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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2677cc5 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68178 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68178) diff --git a/old/68178-0.txt b/old/68178-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 271b5c6..0000000 --- a/old/68178-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,22287 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Joel Chandler Harris' Life of Henry W. -Grady including his writings and speeches, by Joel Chandler Harris - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Joel Chandler Harris' Life of Henry W. Grady including his - writings and speeches - -Editor: Joel Chandler Harris - -Release Date: May 26, 2022 [eBook #68178] - -Language: English - -Produced by: David Edwards, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS' LIFE OF -HENRY W. GRADY INCLUDING HIS WRITINGS AND SPEECHES *** - - - - - - HENRY W. GRADY - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -[Illustration: - - ENGRAVED FROM PHOTOGRAPH BY C. W. MOTES. - H. W. Grady. -] - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS’ - - LIFE OF - - HENRY W. GRADY - - INCLUDING HIS - - WRITINGS AND SPEECHES. - - - --------------------- - - - A Memorial Volume - - COMPILED BY MR. HENRY W. GRADY’S CO-WORKERS ON - - “_THE CONSTITUTION_,” - - AND EDITED BY - - JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS - - (_UNCLE REMUS_). - - THIS MEMORIAL VOLUME IS SOLD ONLY BY SUBSCRIPTION, AND IN THE INTERESTS - OF THE FAMILY AND MOTHER OF MR. GRADY. - - - --------------------- - - - NEW YORK: - - CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY, - - 104 & 106 FOURTH AVENUE. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - COPYRIGHT, - 1890, - By MRS. HENRY W. GRADY. - - - - _All rights reserved_. - - - - - Press W. L. Mershon & Co., - Rahway, N. J. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - LOOKING FORWARD TO THE REALIZATION OF THE LOFTY PURPOSE THAT GUIDED OUR - - _MESSENGER OF PEACE_, - - AND TO THE SPLENDID CLIMAX OF HIS HOPES AND ASPIRATIONS, - - THIS MEMORIAL VOLUME - - OF THE LIFE AND SERVICES OF - - =Henry Woodfin Grady,= - - IS DEDICATED TO THE - - PEACE, UNITY AND FRATERNITY - - OF THE - - NORTH AND SOUTH, AND TO THE PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY OF - - _A RE-UNITED COUNTRY WITH ONE FLAG AND ONE DESTINY_. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CONTENTS. - - - ------- - - PAGE - - IN MEMORIAM—_Henry Watterson_, 5 - - BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH—_Joel Chandler 9 - Harris_, - - MEMORIAL SKETCH—_Marion Verdery_, 69 - - - SPEECHES. - - THE NEW SOUTH—Delivered at the Banquet 83 - of the New England Club, New York, - December 21, 1886, - - THE SOUTH AND HER PROBLEM—At the Dallas, 94 - Texas, State Fair, October 26, 1887, - - AT THE AUGUSTA EXPOSITION—In November, 121 - 1887, - - AGAINST CENTRALIZATION—Before the 142 - Society of the University of Virginia, - June 25, 1889, - - THE FARMER AND THE CITIES—At Elberton, 158 - Georgia, in June, 1889, - - AT THE BOSTON BANQUET—Before the 180 - Merchants’ Association, in December, - 1889, - - BEFORE THE BAY STATE CLUB—1889, 199 - - - WRITINGS. - - “SMALL JANE”—The Story of a Little 211 - Heroine, - - DOBBS—A Thumb-nail Sketch of a Martyr—A 220 - Blaze of Honesty—The Father of - Incongruity—Five Dollars a Week—A - Conscientious Debtor, - - A CORNER LOT, 227 - - THE ATHEISTIC TIDE SWEEPING OVER THE 230 - CONTINENT—The threatened Destruction - of the Simple Faith of the Fathers by - the Vain Deceits of Modern - Philosophers, - - ON THE OCEAN WAVE—An Amateur’s 238 - Experience on a Steamship—How - Sea-Sickness Works—The Sights of the - Sea—The Lovers and the Pilot—Some - Conclusions not Jumped at - - TWO MEN WHO HAVE THRILLED THE STATE—An 245 - Accidental Meeting on the Street, in - which Two Great Men are Recognized as - the Types of Two Clashing - Theories—Toombs’s Successes—Brown’s - Judgment, - - “BOB.” HOW AN OLD MAN “COME HOME”—A 252 - Story Without a Moral, Picked out of a - Busy Life, - - COTTON AND ITS KINGDOM, 272 - - IN PLAIN BLACK AND WHITE—A Reply to Mr. 285 - Cable, - - THE LITTLE BOY IN THE BALCONY, 308 - - - POEMS BY VARIOUS HANDS. - - GRADY—_F. L. Stanton_, 313 - - ATLANTA—_Josephine Pollard_, 316 - - HENRY W. GRADY—_James Whitcombe Riley_, 317 - - A REQUIEM IN MEMORY OF “HIM THAT’S 318 - AWA’”—_Montgomery M. Folsom_, - - HENRY WOODFIN GRADY—_Henry O’Meara_, 320 - - HENRY W. GRADY—_Henry Jerome Stockard_, 322 - - WHO WOULD CALL HIM BACK?—_Belle Eyre_, 323 - - HENRY W. GRADY—_G. W. Lyon_, 324 - - WHAT THE MASTER MADE—_Mel. R. Colquitt_, 326 - - IN ATLANTA, CHRISTMAS, 1889—_Henry Clay 327 - Lukens_, - - IN MEMORY OF HENRY WOODFIN GRADY—_Lee 328 - Fairchild_, - - A SOUTHERN CHRISTMAS DAY—_N.C. 329 - Thompson_, - - IN MEMORY OF HENRY W. GRADY—_Elizabeth 331 - J. Hereford_, - - HENRY W. GRADY—_Mary E. Bryan_, 333 - - THE OLD AND THE NEW—_J. M. Gibson_, 334 - - HENRY W. GRADY—_E. A. B., from the 336 - Boston Globe_, - - AT GRADY’S GRAVE—_Charles W. Hubner_, 338 - - - MEMORIAL MEETINGS. - - THE ATLANTA MEMORIAL MEETING, 345 - The Chi Phi Memorial, 347 - Address of Hon. Patrick Walsh, 350 - Address of Hon. B. H. Hill, 353 - Address of Julius L. Brown, 356 - Address of Hon. Albert Cox, 362 - Address of Walter B. Hill, 365 - Address of Judge Howard Van Epps, 369 - Address of Prof. H. C. White, 373 - Address of Hon. John Temple Graves, 378 - Address of Governor Gordon, 382 - MEMORIAL MEETING AT MACON, GA., 385 - Resolutions, 387 - Alumni Resolutions, 389 - Address of Mr. Richardson, 385 - Address of Mr. Boifeuillet, 391 - Address of Major Hanson, 396 - Address of Judge Speer, 398 - Address of Mr. Washington, 406 - Address of Mr. Patterson, 409 - - - PERSONAL TRIBUTES. - - THOUGHTS ON H. W. GRADY—By _B. H. 417 - Samett_, - - SARGENT S. PRENTISS AND HENRY W. GRADY. 421 - Similarity of Genius and Patriotism—By - _Joseph F. Pon_, - - SERMON—By _Dr. T. DeWitt Talmage_, 428 - - - TRIBUTES OF THE NORTHERN PRESS. - - He was the Embodiment of the Spirit of 443 - the New South—_From the “New York - World,”_ - - A Thoroughly American Journalist—_From 444 - the “New York Herald,”_ - - A Loss to the Whole Country—_From the 445 - “New York Tribune,”_ - - What Henry W. Grady Represented—_From 446 - the “New York Commercial Advertiser,”_ - - A Far-sighted Statesman—_From the “New 448 - York Star,”_ - - An Apostle of the New Faith—_From the 448 - “New York Times,”_ - - The Foremost Leader—_From the “New York 449 - Christian Union,”_ - - A Glorious Mission—_From the “Albany, 450 - N.Y., Argus,”_ - - His Lofty Ideal—_From the “Philadelphia 452 - Press,”_ - - His Patriotism—_From the “Philadelphia 454 - Ledger,”_ - - Oratory and the Press—_From the “Boston 457 - Advertiser,”_ - - The Lesson of Mr. Grady’s Life—_From the 458 - “Philadelphia Times,”_ - - His Loss a General Calamity—_From the 459 - “St. Louis Globe-Democrat,”_ - - Saddest of Sequels—_From the 461 - “Manchester, N.H., Union,”_ - - A Life of Promise—_From the “Chicago 462 - Inter-Ocean,”_ - - Electrified the Whole Country—_From the 464 - “Pittsburg Dispatch,”_ - - A Large Brain and a Large Heart—_From 465 - the “Elmira, N.Y., Advertiser,”_ - - The Model Citizen—_From the “Boston 467 - Globe,”_ - - A Loyal Unionist—_From the “Chicago 468 - Times,”_ - - His Work was Not in Vain—_From the 468 - “Cleveland, O., Plaindealer,”_ - - The Best Representative of the New 469 - South—_From the “Albany, N.Y., - Journal,”_ - - A Lamentable Loss to the Country—_From 470 - the “Cincinnati Commercial Gazette,”_ - - A Sad Loss—_From the “Buffalo, N.Y., 471 - Express,”_ - - Words of Virgin Gold—_From the “Oswego, 473 - N.Y., Palladium,”_ - - Sad News—_From the “Boston Advertiser,”_ 475 - - A Leader of Leaders—_From the 477 - “Philadelphia Times,”_ - - A Forceful Advocate—_From the 479 - “Springfield, Mass., Republican,”_ - - His Great Work—_From the “Boston Post,”_ 480 - - New England’s Sorrow—_From the “Boston 482 - Herald,”_ - - A Noble Life Ended—_From the 484 - “Philadelphia Telegraph,”_ - - A Typical Southerner—_From the “Chicago 486 - Tribune,”_ - - His Name a Household Possession—_From 487 - the “Independence, Mo., Sentinel,”_ - - Editor, Orator, Statesman, Patriot—_From 488 - the “Kansas City Globe,”_ - - A Southern Bereavement—_From the 490 - “Cincinnati Times-Star,”_ - - A Man Who will be Missed, 491 - - At the Beginning of a Great Career—_From 493 - the “Pittsburg Post,”_ - - The Peace-Makers—_From the “New York 494 - Churchman,”_ - - One of the Brightest—_From the “Seattle 495 - Press,”_ - - The South’s Noble Son—_From the 496 - “Rockland, Me., Opinion,”_ - - Brilliant and Gifted—_Dr. H. M. Field in 497 - “New York Evangelist,”_ - - The Death of Henry W. Grady—_John Boyle 499 - O’Reilly in the “Boston Pilot,”_ - - - TRIBUTES OF THE SOUTHERN PRESS. - - A Noble Death—_From the “Jacksonville, 505 - Fla., Times-Union,”_ - - There Was None Greater—_From the 507 - “Birmingham, Mo., Chronicle,”_ - - A Great Leader Has Fallen—_From the 509 - “Raleigh, N.C., State Chronicle,”_ - - N.H._From the “New Orleans 514 - Times-Democrat,”_ - - Second to None—_From the “Louisville 517 - Courier-Journal,”_ - - A Loss to the South—_From the 519 - “Louisville Post,”_ - - The Death of Henry W. Grady, 520 - - Universal Sorrow—_From the “Nashville 522 - American,”_ - - The Highest Place—_From the “Charleston 524 - News and Courier,”_ - - A Brilliant Career—_From the “Baltimore 526 - Sun,”_ - - A Public Calamity—_From the “Selma Times 528 - and Mail,”_ - - Grief Tempers To-day’s Joy—_From the 530 - “Austin, Tex., Statesman,”_ - - Henry Grady’s Death—_From the 532 - “Charleston Evening Sun,”_ - - Two Dead Men—_From the “Greenville, 533 - N.C., News,”_ - - Grady’s Renown—_From the “Birmingham 535 - News,”_ - - Henry W. Grady—_From the “Augusta 537 - Chronicle,”_ - - True and Loyal—_From the “Athens 543 - Banner,”_ - - Mr. Grady’s Death—_From the “Savannah 544 - Times,”_ - - A Great Loss to Georgia—_From the 545 - “Columbia Enquirer-Sun,”_ - - The Man Eloquent—_From the “Rome 547 - Tribune,”_ - - Death of Henry W. Grady—_From the 549 - “Savannah News,”_ - - Henry W. Grady Dead—_From the “Albany 551 - News and Advertiser,”_ - - Stilled is the Eloquent Tongue—_From the 553 - “Brunswick Times,”_ - - A Shining Career—_From the “Macon 554 - Telegraph,”_ - - The Greatest Calamity—_From the “Augusta 557 - News,”_ - - No Ordinary Grief—_From the “Columbus 559 - Ledger,”_ - - A Place Hard to Fill—_From the “Griffin 559 - News,”_ - - “Just Human”—_From the “Thomasville 560 - Enterprise,”_ - - Georgia Weeps—_From the “Union News,”_ 561 - - A Grand Mission—_From the “West Point 563 - Press,”_ - - The South Loved Him—_From the “Darien 564 - Timber Gazette,”_ - - No Sadder News—_From the “Marietta 565 - Journal,”_ - - Georgia’s Noble Son—_From the “Madison 566 - Advertiser,”_ - - The Death of Henry Grady—_From the 569 - “Hawkinsville Dispatch,”_ - - A Measureless Sorrow—_From the “Lagrange 572 - Reporter,”_ - - Grady’s Death—_From the “Oglethorpe 573 - Echo,”_ - - He Loved his Country—_From the “Cuthbert 574 - Liberal,”_ - - A Resplendent Record—_From the “Madison 575 - Madisonian,”_ - - Dedicated to Humanity—_From the 576 - “Sandersville Herald and Georgian,”_ - - The South Laments—_From the “Middle 578 - Georgia Progress,”_ - - His Career—_From the “Dalton Citizen,”_ 579 - - Our Fallen Hero—_From the “Hartwell 581 - Sun,”_ - - A Deathless Name—_From the “Gainesville 582 - Eagle,”_ - - A Great Soul—_From the “Baxley Banner,”_ 583 - - In Memoriam—_From the “Henry Co. 585 - Times,”_ - - A People Mourn—_From the “Warrenton 587 - Clipper,”_ - - Henry W. Grady is No More—_From the 589 - “Valdosta Times,”_ - - “Maybe his Work is Finished”—_From the 590 - “Dalton Argus,”_ - - He Never Offended—_From the “Washington 592 - Chronicle,”_ - - The South in Mourning—_From the 593 - “Elberton Star,”_ - - Stricken at its Zenith—_From the 594 - “Greenesboro Herald and Journal,”_ - - The Southland Mourns—_From the “Griffin 596 - Morning Call,”_ - - THE “CONSTITUTION” AND ITS WORK, 601 - - - LETTERS AND TELEGRAMS FROM DISTINGUISHED PERSONS. - - Hon. Chauncey M. Depew, 623 - Ex-President Cleveland, 624 - Hon. A. S. Colyar, 625 - Hon. Murat Halstead, 626 - Hon. Samuel J. Randall, 627 - Mr. Andrew Carnegie, 627 - Hon. Edward S. Bradford, 628 - Mr. J. H. Parker, 628 - Hon. Alonzo B. Cornell, 628 - Mr. Ballard Smith, 628 - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - IN MEMORIAM. - - - ------- - -IT is within the bounds of entire accuracy to say that the death of no -man ever created a deeper and more universal sorrow than that which -responded to the announcement that HENRY WOODFIN GRADY had paid his -final debt of nature, and was gone to his last account. The sense of -grief and regret attained the dignity of a national bereavement, and was -at one and the same time both public and personal. The young and gifted -Georgian had made a great impression upon his country and his time; -blending an individuality, picturesque, strong and attractive, and an -eloquence as rarely solid as it was rhetorically fine, into a character -of the first order of eminence and brilliancy. In every section of the -Union, the people felt that a noble nature and a splendid intellect had -been subtracted from the nation’s stock of wisdom and virtue. This -feeling was intensified the nearer it approached the region where he was -best known and honored: but it reached the farthest limits of the land, -and was expressed by all classes and parties with an homage equally -ungrudging and sincere. - -In Georgia, and throughout the Southern States, it rose to a -lamentation. He was, indeed, the hope and expectancy of the young South, -the one publicist of the New South, who, inheriting the spirit of the -old, yet had realized the present, and looked into the future, with the -eyes of a statesman and the heart of a patriot. His own future was fully -assured. He had made his place; had won his spurs; and he possessed the -qualities, not merely to hold them, but greatly to magnify their -importance. That he should be cut down upon the threshold of a career, -for whose magnificent development and broad usefulness all was prepared, -seemed a cruel dispensation of Providence and aroused a heart-breaking -sentiment far beyond the bounds compassed by Mr. Grady’s personality. - -Of the details of his life, and of his life-work, others have spoken in -the amplest terms. I shall, in this place, content myself with placing -on the record my own remembrance and estimate of the man as he was known -to me. Mr. Grady became a writer for the press when but little more than -a boy, and during the darkest days of the Reconstruction period. There -was in those days but a single political issue for the South. Our hand -was in the lion’s mouth, and we could do nothing, hope for nothing, -until we got it out. The young Georgian was ardent, impetuous, the son -of a father slain in battle, the offspring of a section, the child of a -province; yet he rose to the situation with uncommon faculties of -courage and perception; caught the spirit of the struggle against -reaction with perfect reach; and threw himself into the liberal and -progressive movements of the time with the genius of a man born for both -oratory and affairs. At first, his sphere of work was confined to the -newspapers of the South. But, not unreasonably or unnaturally, he wished -a wider field of duty, and went East, carrying letters in which he was -commended in terms which might have seemed extravagant then, but which -he more than vindicated. His final settlement in the capital of his -native State, and in a position where he could speak directly and -responsibly, gave him the opportunity he had sought to make a name and -fame for himself, and an audience of his own. Here he carried the policy -with which he had early identified himself to its finest conclusions; -coming at once to the front as a champion of a free South and a united -country, second to none in efficiency, equaled by none in eloquence. - -He was eager and aspiring, and, in the heedlessness of youth, with its -aggressive ambitions, may not have been at all times discriminating and -considerate in the objects of his attacks; but he was generous to a -fault, and, as he advanced upon the highway, he broadened with it and to -it, and, if he had lived, would have realized the fullest measure of his -own promise and the hopes of his friends. The scales of error, when -error he felt he had committed, were fast falling from his eyes, and he -was frank to own his changed, or changing, view. The vista of the way -ahead was opening before him with its far perspective clear to his -mental sight. He had just delivered an utterance of exceeding weight and -value, winning universal applause, and was coming home to be welcomed by -his people with open arms, when the Messenger of Death summoned him to -his God. The tidings of the fatal termination of his disorder, so -startling in their suddenness and unexpectedness, added to the last -scene of all a feature of dramatic interest. - -For my own part, I can truly say that I was from the first and always -proud of him, hailed him as a young disciple who had surpassed his -elders in learning and power, recognized in him a master voice and soul, -followed his career with admiring interest, and recorded his triumphs -with ever-increasing sympathy and appreciation. We had broken a lance or -two between us; but there had been no lick below the belt, and no hurt -which was other than skin-deep, and during considerably more than a year -before his death a most cordial and unreserved correspondence had passed -between us. The telegram which brought the fatal news was a grievous -shock to me, for it told me that I had lost a good friend, and the cause -of truth a great advocate. It is with a melancholy satisfaction that I -indite these lines, thankful for the opportunity afforded me to do so by -the kindness of his associates and family. Such spirits are not of a -generation, but of an epoch; and it will be long before the South will -find one to take the place made conspicuously vacant by his absence. - - HENRY WATTERSON. - -LOUISVILLE, _February 9, 1890_. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - -[Illustration: - - THE HOME OF GRADY’S BOYHOOD, ATHENS. -] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH - OF - HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - BY JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS. - - ------- - - -ORDINARILY, it is not a difficult matter to write a biographical sketch. -Here are the dates, one in faded ink in an old Bible, the other -glistening under the morning sun, or the evening stars, on the cold -gravestone. Here is the business, the occupation, the profession, -success or failure—a little scrap of paper here and there, and beyond -and above everything, the fact of death; of death that, in a pitiful -way, becomes as perfunctory as any other fact or event. Ordinarily, -there is no difficulty in grouping these things, throwing in a word of -eulogy here and there, and sympathizing in a formal way with the friends -and relatives and the community in general. - -But to give adequate shape to even the slightest sketch of the unique -personality and the phenomenal career of Henry Woodfin Grady, who died, -as it were, but yesterday, is well-nigh impossible; for here was a life -that has no parallel in our history, productive as our institutions have -been of individuality. A great many Americans have achieved fame in -their chosen professions,—have won distinction and commanded the popular -approval, but here is a career which is so unusual as to have no -precedent. In recalling to mind the names of those who have been most -conspicuously successful in touching the popular heart, one fact -invariably presents itself—the fact of office. It is not, perhaps, an -American fact peculiarly, but it seems to be so, since the proud and the -humble, the great and the small, all seem willing to surrender to its -influence. It is the natural order of things that an American who is -ambitious—who is willing, as the phrase goes, to serve the people (and -it is a pretty as well as a popular phrase)—should have an eye on some -official position, more or less important, which he would be willing to -accept even at a sacrifice if necessary. This is the American plan, and -it has been so sanctified by history and custom that the modern -reformers, who propose to apply a test of fitness to the office-seekers, -are hooted at as Pharisees. After our long and promiscuous career of -office-seeking and office-holding, a test of fitness seems to be a -monarchical invention which has for its purpose the destruction of our -republican institutions. - -It is true that some of the purest and best men in our history have held -office, and have sought it, and this fact gives additional emphasis to -one feature of Henry Grady’s career. He never sought office, and he was -prompt to refuse it whenever it was brought within his reach. On one -occasion a tremendous effort was made to induce him to become a -candidate for Congress in the Atlanta district. The most prominent -people in the district urged him, his friends implored him, and a -petition largely signed was presented to him. Never before in Georgia -has a citizen been formally petitioned by so large a number of his -fellow-citizens to accept so important an office. Mr. Grady regarded the -petition with great curiosity. He turned it over in his mind and played -with it in a certain boyish and impulsive way that belonged to -everything he did and that was one of the most charming elements of his -character. His response to the petition is worth giving here. He was, as -he said, strongly tempted to improve a most flattering opportunity. He -then goes on to read a lesson to the young men of the South that is -still timely, though it was written in 1882. He says: - - - When I was eighteen years of age, I adopted journalism as my - profession. After thirteen years of service, in which I have had - various fortunes, I can say that I have never seen a day when I - regretted my choice. On the contrary, I have seen the field of - journalism so enlarged, its possibilities so widened, and its - influence so extended, that I have come to believe earnestly - that no man, no matter what his calling, his elevation, or his - opportunity, can equal in dignity, honor and usefulness the - journalist who comprehends his position, fairly measures his - duties, and gives himself entirely and unselfishly to his work. - But journalism is a jealous profession, and demands the fullest - allegiance of those who seek its honors or emoluments. Least of - all things can it be made the aid of the demagogue, or the - handmaid of the politician. The man who uses his journal to - subserve his political ambition, or writes with a sinister or - personal purpose, soon loses his power, and had best abandon a - profession he has betrayed. Within my memory there are frequent - and striking examples of men who have sacrificed the one - profession, only to be sacrificed in the other. History has not - recorded the name of a single man who has been great enough to - succeed in both. Therefore, devoted as I am to my profession, - believing as I do that there is more of honor and usefulness for - me along its way than in another path, and that my duty is clear - and unmistakable, I am constrained to reaffirm in my own mind - and to declare to you the resolution I made when I entered - journalism, namely, that as long as I remain in its ranks I will - never become a candidate for any political office, or draw a - dollar from any public treasury. This rule I have never broken, - and I hope I never shall. As a matter of course, every young man - of health and spirit must have ambition, I think it has been the - curse of the South that our young men have considered little - else than political preferment worthy of an ambitious thought. - There is a fascination about the applause of the hustings that - is hard to withstand. Really, there is no career that brings so - much of unhappiness and discontent—so much of subservience, - sacrifice, and uncertainty as that of the politician. Never did - the South offer so little to her young men in the direction of - politics as she does at present. Never did she offer so much in - other directions. As for me, my ambition is a simple one. I - shall be satisfied with the labors of my life if, when those - labors are over, my son, looking abroad upon a better and - grander Georgia—a Georgia that has filled the destiny God - intended her for—when her towns and cities are hives of - industry, and her country-side the exhaustless fields from which - their stores are drawn—when every stream dances on its way to - the music of spindles, and every forest echoes back the roar of - the passing train—when her valleys smile with abundant harvests, - and from her hillsides come the tinkling of bells as her herds - and flocks go forth from their folds—when more than two million - people proclaim her perfect independence, and bless her with - their love—I shall be more than content, I say, if my son, - looking upon such scenes as these, can stand up and say: - - “My father bore a part in this work, and his name lives in the - memory of this people.” - - While I am forced, therefore, to decline to allow the use of my - name as you request, I cannot dismiss your testimonial, - unprecedented, I believe, in its character and compass, without - renewing my thanks for the generous motives that inspired it. - Life can bring me no sweeter satisfaction than comes from this - expression of confidence and esteem from the people with whom I - live, and among whom I expect to die. You have been pleased to - commend the work I may have done for the old State we love so - well. Rest assured that you have to-day repaid me amply for the - past, and have strengthened me for whatever duty may lie ahead. - - -Brief as it is, this is a complete summary of Mr. Grady’s purpose so far -as politics were concerned. It is the key-note of his career. He was -ambitious—he was fired with that “noble discontent,” born of genius, -that spurs men to action, but he lacked the selfishness that leads to -office-seeking. It is not to be supposed, however, that he scorned -politics. He had unbounded faith in the end and aim of certain -principles of government, and he had unlimited confidence in the honesty -and justice of the people and in the destiny of the American Union—in -the future of the Republic. - -What was the secret of his popularity? By what methods did he win the -affections of people who never saw his face or heard his voice? His -aversion to office was not generally known—indeed, men who regarded him -in the light of rivalry, and who had access to publications neither -friendly nor appreciative, had advertised to the contrary. By them it -was hinted that he was continually seeking office and employing for that -purpose all the secret arts of the demagogue. Yet, in the face of these -sinister intimations, he died the best beloved and the most deeply -lamented man that Georgia has ever produced, and, to crown it all, he -died a private citizen, sacrificing his life in behalf of a purpose that -was neither personal nor sectional, but grandly national in its aims. - -In the last intimate conversation he had with the writer of this, Mr. -Grady regretted that there were people in Georgia who misunderstood his -motives and intentions. We were on the train going from Macon to -Eatonton, where he was to speak. - -“I am going to Eatonton solely because you seem to have your heart set -on it,” he said. “There are people who will say that I am making a -campaign in my own behalf, and you will hear it hinted that I am going -about the State drumming up popularity for the purpose of running for -some office.” - -The idea seemed to oppress him, and though he never bore malice against -a human being, he was keenly hurt at any interpretation of his motives -that included selfishness or self-seeking among them. In this way, he -was often deeply wounded by men who ought to have held up his hands. - -When he died, those who had wronged him, perhaps unintentionally, by -attributing to him a selfish ambition that he never had, were among the -first to do justice to his motives. Their haste in this matter (there -are two instances in my mind) has led me to believe that their instinct -at the last was superior to their judgment. I have recently read again -nearly all the political editorials contributed to the _Constitution_ by -Mr. Grady during the last half-dozen years. Taken together, they make a -remarkable showing. They manifest an extraordinary growth, not in style -or expression—for all the graces of composition were fully developed in -Mr. Grady’s earliest writings—but in lofty aim, in the high and -patriotic purpose that is to be found at its culmination in his Boston -speech. I mention the Boston speech because it is the last serious -effort he made. Reference might just as well have been made to the New -England speech, or to the Elberton speech, or to the little speech he -delivered at Eatonton, and which was never reported. In each and all of -these there is to be found the qualities that are greater than literary -nimbleness or rhetorical fluency—the qualities that kindle the fires of -patriotism and revive and restore the love of country. - -In his Eatonton speech, Mr. Grady was particularly happy in his -references to a restored Union and a common country, and his earnestness -and his eloquence were as conscientious there as if he were speaking to -the largest and most distinguished audience in the world, and as if his -address were to be printed in all the newspapers of the land. I am -dwelling on these things in order to show that there was nothing -affected or perfunctory in Mr. Grady’s attitude. He had political -enemies in the State—men who, at some turn in their career, had felt the -touch and influence of his hand, or thought they did—and these men were -always ready, through their small organs and mouthpieces, to belittle -his efforts and to dash their stale small beer across the path of this -prophet of the New South, who strove to impress his people with his own -brightness and to lead them into the sunshine that warmed his own life -and made it beautiful. Perhaps these things should not be mentioned in a -sketch that can only be general in its nature; and yet they afford a key -to Mr. Grady’s character; they supply the means of getting an intimate -glimpse of his motives. That the thoughtless and ill-tempered criticisms -of his contemporaries wounded him is beyond question. They troubled him -greatly, and he used to talk about them to his co-workers with the -utmost freedom. But they never made him malicious. He always had some -excuse to offer for those who misinterpreted him, and no attack, however -bitter, was ever made on his motives, that he could not find a -reasonable excuse for in some genial and graceful way. - -The great point about this man was that he never bore malice. His heart -was too tender and his nature too generous. The small jealousies, and -rivalries, and envies that appertain to life, and, indeed, are a -definite part of it, never touched him in the slightest degree. He was -conscious of the growth of his powers, and he watched their development -with the curiosity and enthusiasm of a boy, but the egotism that is -based on arrogance or self-esteem he had no knowledge of. The -consciousness of the purity of his motives gave him strength and power -in a direction where most other public men are weak. This same -consciousness gave a breadth, an ardor, and an impulsiveness to his -actions and utterances that seem to be wholly lacking in the lives of -other public men who have won the applause of the public. The secret of -this it would be difficult to define. When his companions in the office -insisted that it was his duty to prepare at least an outline of his -speeches so that the newspapers could have the benefit of such a basis, -the suggestion fretted him. His speech at the annual banquet of the New -England Society, which created such a tremendous sensation, was an -impromptu effort from beginning to end. It was the creature of the -occasion. Fortunately, a reporter of the New York _Tribune_ was present, -and he has preserved for us something of the flavor and finish of the -words which the young Southerner uttered on his first introduction to a -Northern audience. The tremendous impression that he made, however, has -never been recorded. There was a faint echo of it in the newspapers, a -buzz and a stir in the hotel lobbies, but all that was said was -inadequate to explain why these sons of New England, accustomed as they -were to eloquence of the rarer kind, as the volumes of their proceedings -show, rose to their feet and shouted themselves hoarse over the simple -and impromptu effort of this young Georgian. - -Mr. Grady attended the New England banquet for the purpose of making a -mere formal response to the toast of “The South,” but, as he said -afterwards, there was something in the scene that was inspiring. Near -him sat General Tecumseh Sherman, who marched through Georgia with fire -and sword, and all around him were the fat and jocund sons of New -England who had prospered by the results of the war while his own people -had had the direst poverty for their portion. “When I found myself on my -feet,” he said, describing the scene on his return, “every nerve in my -body was strung as tight as a fiddle-string, and all tingling. I knew -then that I had a message for that assemblage, and as soon as I opened -my mouth it came rushing out.” - -That speech, as we all know, was an achievement in its way. It stirred -the whole country from one end to the other, and made Mr. Grady famous. -Invitations to speak poured in upon him from all quarters, and he at -last decided to deliver an address at Dallas, Texas. His friends advised -him to prepare the speech in advance, especially as many of the -newspapers of the country would be glad to have proofs of it to be used -when it was delivered. He saw how essential this would be, but the -preparation of a speech in cold blood (as he phrased it) was irksome to -him, and failed to meet the approval of his methods, which were as -responsive to the occasion as the report of the thunder-clap is to the -lightning’s flash. He knew that he could depend on these methods in all -emergencies and under all circumstances, and he felt that only by -depending on them could he do himself justice before an audience. The -one characteristic of all his speeches, as natural to his mind as it was -surprising to the minds of others, was the ease and felicity with which -he seized on suggestions born of the moment and growing out of his -immediate surroundings. It might be some incident occurring to the -audience, some failure in the programme, some remark of the speaker -introducing him, or some unlooked-for event; but, whatever it was, he -seized it and compelled it to do duty in pointing a beautiful moral, or -he made it the basis of that swift and genial humor that was a feature -not only of his speeches, but of his daily life. - -He was prevailed on, however, to prepare his Dallas speech in advance. -It was put in type in the _Constitution_ office, carefully revised, and -proof slips sent out to a number of newspapers. Mr. Grady’s journey from -Atlanta to Dallas, which was undertaken in a special car, was in the -nature of an ovation. He was met at every station by large crowds, and -his appearance created an enthusiasm that is indescribable. No such -tribute as this has ever before been paid, under any circumstances, to -any private American citizen, and it is to be doubted whether even any -public official, no matter how exalted his station, has ever been -greeted with such hearty and spontaneous enthusiasm. His reception in -Dallas was the culmination of the series of ovations through which he -had passed. Some sort of programme had been arranged by a committee, but -the crowds trampled on this, and the affair took the shape of an -American hullaballoo, so to speak, and, as such, it was greatly enjoyed -by Mr. Grady. - -Meanwhile, the programme that had been arranged for the speech-making -was fully carried out. The young editor completely captured the vast -crowd that had assembled to hear him. This information had been promptly -carried to the _Constitution_ office by private telegrams, and -everything was made ready for giving the speech to the public the next -morning; but during the afternoon this telegram came: - - - “_Suppress speech: It has been entirely changed. Notify other - papers._” - - -At the last moment, his mind full of the suggestions of his -surroundings, he felt that the prepared speech could not be depended on, -and he threw it away. It was a great relief to him, he told me -afterward, to be able to do this. Whatever in the prepared speech seemed -to be timely he used, but he departed entirely from the line of it at -every point, and the address that the Texans heard was mainly an -impromptu one. It created immense enthusiasm, and confirmed the promise -of the speech before the New England Society. - -The speech before the University of Virginia was also prepared -beforehand, but Mr. Grady made a plaything of the preparation before his -audience. “I was never so thoroughly convinced of Mr. Grady’s power,” -said the Hon. Guyton McLendon, of Thomasville, to the writer, “as when I -heard him deliver this speech.” Mr. McLendon had accompanied him on his -journey to Charlottesville. “We spent a day in Washington,” said Mr. -McLendon, recalling the incidents of the trip. “The rest of the party -rode around the capital looking at the sights, but Mr. Grady, myself, -and one or two others remained in the car. While we were waiting there, -Mr. Grady read me the printed slips of his speech, and I remember that -it made a great impression on me. I thought it was good enough for any -occasion, but Mr. Grady seemed to have his doubts about it. He examined -it critically two or three times, and made some alterations. Finally he -laid it away. When he did come to deliver the speech, I was perhaps the -most astonished person you ever saw. I expected to hear again the speech -that had been read to me in the Pullman coach, but I heard a vastly -different and a vastly better one. He used the old speech only where it -was most timely and most convenient. The incident of delivering the -prize to a young student who had won it on a literary exercise of some -sort, started Mr. Grady off in a new vein and on a new line, and after -that he used the printed speech merely to fill out with here and there. -It was wonderful how he could break away from it and come back to it, -fitting the old with the new in a beautiful and harmonious mosaic. If -anybody had told me that the human mind was capable of such a -performance as this on the wing and in the air, so to speak, I shouldn’t -have believed it. To me it was a wonderful manifestation of genius, and -I knew then, for the first time, that there was no limit to Mr. Grady’s -power and versatility as a speaker.” - -In his speeches in the country towns of Georgia and before the farmers, -Mr. Grady made no pretense of preparation. His private secretary, Mr. -James R. Holliday, caught and wrote out the pregnant paragraphs that go -to make up his Elberton speech, which was the skeleton and outline on -which he based his speeches to the farmers. Each speech, as might be -supposed, was a beautiful variation of this rural theme to which he was -wedded, but the essential part of the Elberton speech was the bone and -marrow of all. I think there is no passage in our modern literature -equal in its effectiveness and pathos to his picture of a Southern -farmer’s home. It was a matter on which his mind dwelt. There was that -in his nature to which both sun and soil appealed. The rain falling on a -fallow field, the sun shining on the bristling and waving corn, and the -gentle winds of heaven blowing over all—he was never tired of talking of -these, and his talk always took the shape of a series of picturesque -descriptions. He appreciated their spiritual essence as well as their -material meaning, and he surrendered himself entirely to all the -wholesome suggestions that spring from the contemplation of rural -scenes. - -I suppose it is true that all men—except those who are brought in daily -contact with the practical and prosy side of it—have a longing for a -country life. Mr. Grady’s longing in that direction took the shape of a -passion that was none the less serious and earnest because he knew it -was altogether romantic. In the Spring of 1889, the matter engaged his -attention to such an extent, that he commissioned a compositor in the -_Constitution_ office to purchase a suburban farm. He planned it all out -beforehand, and knew just where the profits were to come in. His -descriptions of his imaginary farm were inimitable, and the details, as -he gave them out, were marked by the rare humor with which he treated -the most serious matters. There was to be an old-fashioned spring in a -clump of large oak-trees on the place, meadows of orchard grass and -clover, through which mild-eyed Jerseys were to wander at will, and in -front of the house there was to be a barley patch gloriously green, and -a colt frolicking and capering in it. The farm was of course a dream, -but it was a very beautiful one while it lasted, and he dwelt on it with -an earnestness that was quite engaging to those who enjoyed his -companionship. The farm was a dream, but he no doubt got more enjoyment -and profit out of it than a great many prosy people get out of the farms -that are real. Insubstantial as it was, Mr. Grady’s farm served to -relieve the tension of a mind that was always busy with the larger -affairs of this busy and stirring age, and many a time when he grew -tired of the incessant demands made on his time and patience he would -close the door of his room with a bang and instruct the office-boy to -tell all callers that he had “gone to his farm.” The fat cows that -grazed there lowed their welcome, the chickens cackled to see him come, -and the colt capered nimbly in the green expanse of barley—children of -his dreams all, but all grateful and restful to a busy mind. - - - II. - -In this hurriedly written sketch, which is thrown together to meet the -modern exigencies of publishing, the round, and full, and complete -biography cannot be looked for. There is no time here for the selection -and arrangement in an orderly way of the details of this busy and -brilliant life. Under the circumstances, even the hand of affection can -only touch it here and there so swiftly and so lightly that the random -result must be inartistic and unsatisfactory. It was at such moments as -these—moments of hurry and high-pressure—that Mr. Grady was at his best. -His hand was never surer,—the machinery of his mind was never more -responsive to the tremendous demands he made on it,—than when the huge -press of the _Constitution_ was waiting his orders; when the forms were -waiting to be closed, when the compositors were fretting and fuming for -copy, and when, perhaps, an express train was waiting ten minutes over -its time to carry the _Constitution_ to its subscribers. All his -faculties were trained to meet emergencies; and he was never happier -than when meeting them, whether in a political campaign, in conventions, -in local issues, or in the newspaper business as correspondent or -managing editor. Pressed by the emergency of his death, which to me was -paralyzing, and by the necessity of haste, which, at this juncture, is -confusing, these reminiscences have taken on a disjointed shape sadly at -variance with the demands of literary art. Let me, therefore, somewhere -in the middle, begin at the beginning. - -Henry Woodfin Grady was born in Athens, Georgia, on the 24th of April, -1850. As a little boy he was the leader of all the little boys of his -acquaintance—full of that moral audacity that takes the lead in all -innocent and healthy sports. An old gentleman, whose name I have -forgotten, came into the _Constitution_ editorial rooms shortly after -Mr. Grady delivered the New England banquet speech, to say that he knew -Henry when a boy. I listened with interest, but the memory of what he -said is vague. I remember that his reminiscences had a touch of -enthusiasm, going to show that the little boy was attractive enough to -make a deep impression on his elders. He had, even when a child, all -those qualities that draw attention and win approval. It is easy to -believe that he was a somewhat boisterous boy. Even after he had a -family of his own, and when he was supposed (as the phrase is) to have -settled down, he still remained a boy to all intents and purposes. His -vitality was inexhaustible, and his flow of animal spirits unceasing. In -all athletic sports and out-door exercises he excelled while at school -and college, and it is probable that his record as a boxer, wrestler, -sprinter, and an all-around athlete is more voluminous than his record -for scholarship. To the very last, his enthusiasm for these sports was, -to his intimate friends, one of the most interesting characteristics of -this many-sided man. - -One of his characteristics as a boy, and it was a characteristic that -clung to him through all his life, was his love and sympathy for the -poor and lowly, for the destitute and the forlorn. This was one of the -problems of life that he could never understand,—why, in the economy of -Providence, some human beings should be rich and happy, and others poor -and friendless. When a very little child he began to try to solve the -problem in his own way. It was a small way, indeed, but if all who are -fortunately situated should make the same effort charity would cause the -whole world to smile, and Heaven could not possibly withhold the rich -promise of its blessings. From his earliest childhood, Mr. Grady had a -fondness for the negro race. He was fond of the negroes because they -were dependent, his heart went out to them because he understood and -appreciated their position. When he was two years old, he had a little -negro boy named Isaac to wait on him. He always called this negro -“Brother Isaac,” and he would cry bitterly, if any one told him that -Isaac was not his brother. As he grew older his interest in the negroes -and his fondness for them increased. Until he was eight or nine years -old he always called his mother “Dear mother,” and when the weather was -very cold, he had a habit of waking in the night and saying: “Dear -mother, do you think the servants have enough cover? It’s so cold, and I -want them to be warm.” His first thought was always for the destitute -and the lowly—for those who were dependent on him or on others. At home -he always shared his lunch with the negro children, and after the slaves -were freed, and were in such a destitute condition, scarcely a week -passed that some forlorn-looking negro boy did not bring his mother a -note something like this: “DEAR MOTHER: Please give this child something -to eat. He looks so hungry. H. W. G.” It need not be said that no one -bearing credentials signed by this thoughtful and unselfish boy was ever -turned away hungry from the Grady door. It may be said, too, that his -love and sympathy for the negroes was fully appreciated by that race. -His mother says that she never had a servant during all his life that -was not devoted to him, and never knew one to be angry or impatient with -him. He could never bear to see any one angry or unhappy about him. As a -child he sought to heal the wounds of the sorrowing, and to the last, -though he was worried by the vast responsibilities he had taken on his -shoulders and disturbed by the thoughtless demands made on his time and -patience, he suffered more from the sorrows of others than from any -troubles of his own. When he went to school, he carried the same -qualities of sympathy and unselfishness that had made him charming as a -child. If, among his school-mates, there was to be found a poor or a -delicate child, he took that child under his especial care, and no one -was allowed to trouble it in any way. - -Shortly after he graduated at the State University, an event occurred -that probably decided Mr. Grady’s future career. In an accidental way he -went on one of the annual excursions of the Georgia Press Association as -the correspondent of the _Constitution_. His letters describing the -incidents of the trip were written over the signature of “King Hans.” - -They were full of that racy humor that has since become identified with -a large part of Mr. Grady’s journalistic work. They had a flavor of -audacity about them, and that sparkling suggestiveness that goes first -by one name and then another, but is chiefly known as individuality. The -letters created a sensation among the editors. There was not much that -was original or interesting in Georgia journalism in that day and time. -The State was in the hands of the carpet-baggers, and the newspapers -reflected in a very large degree the gloom and the hopelessness of that -direful period. The editors abused the Republicans in their editorial -columns day after day, and made no effort to enlarge their news service, -or to increase the scope of their duties or their influence. Journalism -in Georgia, in short, was in a rut, and there it was content to jog. - -Though the “King Hans” letters were the production of a boy, their -humor, their aptness, their illuminating power (so to say), their light -touch, and their suggestiveness, showed that a new star had arisen. They -created a lively diversion among the gloomy-minded editors for a while, -and then the procession moved sadly forward in the old ruts. But the -brief, fleeting, and humorous experience that Mr. Grady had as the -casual correspondent of the _Constitution_ decided him. Perhaps this was -his bent after all, and that what might be called a happy accident was -merely a fortunate incident that fate had arranged, for to this -beautiful and buoyant nature fate seemed to be always kind. Into his -short life it crowded its best and dearest gifts. All manner of -happiness was his—the happiness of loving and of being beloved—the -happiness of doing good in directions that only the Recording Angel -could follow—and before he died Fame came and laid a wreath of flowers -at his feet. Fate or circumstance carried him into journalism. His “King -Hans” letters had attracted attention to him, and it seemed natural that -he should follow this humorous experiment into a more serious field. - -He went to Rome not long afterwards, and became editor of the Rome -_Courier_. The _Courier_ was the oldest paper in the city, and therefore -the most substantial. It was, in fact, a fine piece of property. But the -town was a growing town, and the _Courier_ had rivals, the Rome _Daily_, -if my memory serves me, and the Rome _Commercial_. Just how long Mr. -Grady edited the _Courier_, I have no record of; but one fine morning, -he thought he discovered a “ring” of some sort in the village. I do not -know whether it was a political or a financial ring. We have had so many -of these rings in one shape or another that I will not trust my memory -to describe it; but it was a ring, and probably one of the first that -dared to engage in business. Mr. Grady wrote a fine editorial denouncing -it, but when the article was submitted to the proprietor, he made some -objection. He probably thought that some of his patrons would take -offense at the strong language Mr. Grady had used. After some -conversation on the subject, the proprietor of the _Courier_ flatly -objected to the appearance of the editorial in his paper. Mr. Grady was -about eighteen years old then, with views and a little money of his own. -In the course of a few hours he had bought out the two opposing papers, -consolidated them, and his editorial attack on the ring appeared the -next morning in the Rome _Daily Commercial_. It happened on the same -morning that the two papers, the _Courier_ and the _Daily Commercial_, -both appeared with the name of Henry W. Grady as editor. The ring, or -whatever it was, was smashed. Nobody heard anything more of it, and the -_Commercial_ was greeted by its esteemed contemporaries as a most -welcome addition to Georgia journalism. It was bright and lively, and -gave Rome a new vision of herself. - -It was left to the _Commercial_ to discover that Rome was a city set on -the hills, and that she ought to have an advertising torch in her hands. -The _Commercial_, however, was only an experiment. It was run, as Mr. -Grady told me long afterwards, as an amateur casual. He had money to -spend on it, and he gave it a long string to go on. Occasionally he -would fill it up with his bright fancies, and then he would neglect it -for days at a time, and it would then be edited by the foreman. It was -about this time that I met Mr. Grady. We had had some correspondence. He -was appreciative, and whatever struck his fancy he had a quick response -for. Some foolish paragraph of mine had appealed to his sense of humor, -and he pursued the matter with a sympathetic letter that made a lasting -impression. The result of that letter was that I went to Rome, pulled -him from his flying ponies, and had a most enjoyable visit. From Rome we -went to Lookout Mountain, and it is needless to say that he was the life -of the party. He was its body, its spirit, and its essence. We found, in -our journey, a dissipated person who could play on the zither. Just how -important that person became, those who remember Mr. Grady’s pranks can -imagine. The man with the zither took the shape of a minstrel, and in -that guise he went with us, always prepared to make music, which he had -often to do in response to Mr. Grady’s demands. - -Rome, however, soon ceased to be large enough for the young editor. -Atlanta seemed to offer the widest field, and he came here, and entered -into partnership with Colonel Robert A. Alston and Alex St. -Clair-Abrams. It was a queer partnership, but there was much that was -congenial about it. Colonel Alston was a typical South Carolinian, and -Abrams was a Creole. It would be difficult to get together three more -impulsive and enterprising partners. Little attention was paid to the -business office. The principal idea was to print the best newspaper in -the South, and for a time this scheme was carried out in a magnificent -way that could not last. Mr. Grady never bothered himself about the -finances, and the other editors were not familiar with the details of -business. The paper they published attracted more attention from -newspaper men than it did from the public, and it was finally compelled -to suspend. Its good will—and it had more good will than capital—was -sold to the _Constitution_, which had been managed in a more -conservative style. It is an interesting fact, however, that Mr. Grady’s -experiments in the _Herald_, which were failures, were successful when -tried on the _Constitution_, whose staff he joined when Captain Evan P. -Howell secured a controlling interest. And yet Mr. Grady’s development -as a newspaper man was not as rapid as might be supposed. He was -employed by the _Constitution_ as a reporter, and his work was -intermittent. - -One fact was fully developed by Mr. Grady’s early work on the -_Constitution_,—namely, that he was not fitted for the routine work of a -reporter. One day he would fill several columns of the paper with his -bright things, and then for several days he would stand around in the -sunshine talking to his friends, and entertaining them with his racy -sayings. I have seen it stated in various shapes in books and magazines -that the art of conversation is dead. If it was dead before Mr. Grady -was born, it was left to him to resurrect it. Charming as his pen was, -it could bear no reasonable comparison with his tongue. I am not -alluding here to his eloquence, but to his ordinary conversation. When -he had the incentive of sympathetic friends and surroundings, he was the -most fascinating talker I have ever heard. General Toombs had large -gifts in that direction, but he bore no comparison in any respect to Mr. -Grady, whose mind was responsive to all suggestions and to all subjects. -The men who have made large reputations as talkers have had the habit of -selecting their own subjects and treating them dogmatically. We read of -Coleridge buttonholing an acquaintance and talking him to death on the -street, and of Carlyle compelling himself to be heard by sheer -vociferousness. Mr. Grady could have made the monologue as interesting -as he did his orations, but this was not his way. What he did was to -take up whatever commonplace subject was suggested, and so charge it -with his nimble wit and brilliant imagination as to give it a new -importance. - -It was natural, under the circumstances, that his home in Atlanta should -be the center of the social life of the city. He kept open house, and, -aided by his lovely wife and two beautiful children, dispensed the most -charming hospitality. There was nothing more delightful than his -home-life. Whatever air or attitude he had to assume in business, at -home he was a rollicking and romping boy. He put aside all dignity -there, and his most distinguished guest was never distinguished enough -to put on the airs of formality that are commonly supposed to be a part -of social life. His home was a typical one,—the center of his affections -and the fountain of all his joys—and he managed to make all his friends -feel what a sacred place it was. It was the headquarters of all that is -best and brightest in the social and intellectual life of Atlanta, and -many of the most distinguished men of the country have enjoyed the -dispensation of his hospitality, which was simple and homelike, having -about it something of the flavor and ripeness of the old Southern life. - -In writing of the life and career of a man as busy in so many directions -as Mr. Grady, one finds it difficult to pursue the ordinary methods of -biographical writing. One finds it necessary, in order to give a clear -idea of his methods, which were his own in all respects, to be -continually harking back to some earlier period of his career. I have -alluded to his distaste for the routine of reportorial work. The daily -grind—the treadmill of trivial affairs—was not attractive to him; but -when there was a sensation in the air—when something of unusual -importance was happening or about to happen—he was in his element. His -energy at such times was phenomenal. He had the faculty of grasping all -the details of an event, and the imagination to group them properly so -as to give them their full force and effect. The result of this is shown -very clearly in his telegrams to the New York _Herald_ and the -_Constitution_ from Florida during the disputed count going on there in -1876 and the early part of 1877. Mr. Tilden selected Senator Joseph E. -Brown, among other prominent Democrats, to proceed to Florida, and look -after the Democratic case there. Mr. Grady went as the special -correspondent of the New York _Herald_ and the Atlanta _Constitution_, -and though he had for his competitors some of the most famous special -writers of the country, he easily led them all in the brilliancy of his -style, in the character of his work, and in his knack of grouping -together gossip and fact. He was always proud of his work there; he was -on his mettle, as the saying is, and I think there is no question that, -from a journalist’s point of view, his letters and telegrams, covering -the history of what is known politically as the Florida fraud, have no -equal in the newspaper literature of the day. There is no phase of that -important case that his reports do not cover, and they represent a vast -amount of rapid and accurate work—work in which the individuality of the -man is as prominent as his accuracy and impartiality. One of the results -of Mr. Grady’s visit to Florida, and his association with the prominent -politicians gathered there, was to develop a confidence in his own -powers and resources that was exceedingly valuable to him when he came -afterwards to the management of the leading daily paper in the South. He -discovered that the men who had been successful in business and in -politics had no advantage over him in any of the mental qualities and -attributes that appertain to success, and this discovery gave purpose -and determination to his ambition. - -Another fruitful fact in his career, which he used to dwell on with -great pleasure, was his association while in Florida with Senator -Brown—an association that amounted to intimacy. Mr. Grady always had a -very great admiration for Senator Brown, but in Florida he had the -opportunity of working side by side with the Senator and of studying the -methods by which he managed men and brought them within the circle of -his powerful influence. Mr. Grady often said that it was one of the most -instructive lessons of his life to observe the influence which Senator -Brown, feeble as he was in body, exerted on men who were almost total -strangers. The contest between the politicians for the electoral vote of -Florida was in the nature of a still hunt, where prudence, judgment, -skill, and large knowledge of human nature were absolutely essential. In -such a contest as this, Senator Brown was absolutely master of the -situation, and Mr. Grady took great delight in studying his methods, and -in describing them afterwards. - -Busy as Mr. Grady was in Florida with the politicians and with his -newspaper correspondence, he nevertheless found time to make an -exhaustive study of the material resources of the State, and the result -of this appeared in the columns of the _Constitution_ at a later date in -the shape of a series of letters that attracted unusual attention -throughout the country. This subject, the material resources of the -South, and the development of the section, was always a favorite one -with Mr. Grady. He touched it freely from every side and point of view, -and made a feature of it in his newspaper work. To his mind there was -something more practical in this direction than in the heat and fury of -partisan politics. Whatever would aid the South in a material way, -develop her resources and add to her capital, population, and -industries, found in him not only a ready, but an enthusiastic and a -tireless champion. He took great interest in politics, too, and often -made his genius for the management of men and issues felt in the affairs -of the State; but the routine of politics—the discussion that goes on, -like Tennyson’s brook, forever and forever—were of far less importance -in his mind than the practical development of the South. This seemed to -be the burthen of his speeches, as it was of all his later writings. He -never tired of this subject, and he discussed it with a brilliancy, a -fervor, a versatility, and a fluency marvelous enough to have made the -reputation of half a dozen men. Out of his contemplation of it grew the -lofty and patriotic purpose which drew attention to his wonderful -eloquence, and made him famous throughout the country—the purpose to -draw the two sections together in closer bonds of union, fraternity, -harmony, and good-will. The real strength and symmetry of his career can -only be properly appreciated by those who take into consideration the -unselfishness with which he devoted himself to this patriotic purpose. -Instinctively the country seemed to understand something of this, and it -was this instinctive understanding that caused him to be regarded with -affectionate interest and appreciation from one end of the country to -the other by people of all parties, classes, and interests. It was this -instinctive understanding that made him at the close of his brief career -one of the most conspicuous Americans of modern times, and threw the -whole country into mourning at his death. - - - III. - -When in 1880 Mr. Grady bought a fourth interest in the _Constitution_, -he gave up, for the most part, all outside newspaper work, and proceeded -to devote his time and attention to his duties as managing editor, for -which he was peculiarly well fitted. His methods were entirely his own. -He borrowed from no one. Every movement he made in the field of -journalism was stamped with the seal of his genius. He followed no -precedent. He provided for every emergency as it arose, and some of his -strokes of enterprise were as bold as they were startling. He had a -rapid faculty of organization. This was shown on one occasion when he -determined to print official reports of the returns of the congressional -election in the seventh Georgia district. Great interest was felt in the -result all over the State. An independent candidate was running against -the Democratic nominee, and the campaign was one of the liveliest ever -had in Georgia. Yet it is a district that lies in the mountains and -winds around and over them. Ordinarily, it was sometimes a fortnight and -frequently a month before the waiting newspapers and the public knew the -official returns. Mr. Grady arranged for couriers with relays of horses -at all the remote precincts, and the majority of them are remote from -the lines of communication, and his orders to these were to spare -neither horse-flesh nor money in getting the returns to the telegraph -stations. At important points, he had placed members of the -_Constitution’s_ editorial and reportorial staff, who were to give the -night couriers the assistance and directions which their interest and -training would suggest. It was a tough piece of work, but all the -details and plans had been so perfectly arranged that there was no -miscarriage anywhere. One of the couriers rode forty miles over the -mountains, fording rushing streams and galloping wildly over the rough -roads. It was a rough job, but he had been selected by Mr. Grady -especially for this piece of work; he was a tough man and he had tough -horses under him, and he reached the telegraph station on time. This -sort of thing was going on all over the district, and the next morning -the whole State had the official returns. Other feats of modern -newspaper enterprise have been more costly and as successful, but there -is none that I can recall to mind showing a more comprehensive grasp of -the situation or betraying a more daring spirit. It was a feat that -appealed to the imagination, and therefore on the Napoleonic order. - -And yet it is a singular fact that all his early journalistic ventures -were in the nature of failures. The Rome _Commercial_, which he edited -before he had attained his majority, was a bright paper, but not -financially successful. Mr. Grady did some remarkably bold and brilliant -work on the Atlanta _Daily Herald_, but it was expensive work, too, and -the _Herald_ died for lack of funds. Mr. Marion J. Verdery, in his -admirable memorial of Mr. Grady, prepared for the Southern Society of -New York (which I have taken the liberty of embodying in this volume) -alludes to these failures of Mr. Grady, and a great many of his admirers -have been mystified by them. I think the explanation is very simple. Mr. -Grady was a new and a surprising element in the field of journalism, and -his methods were beyond the comprehension of those who had grown gray -watching the dull and commonplace politicians wielding their heavy pens -as editors, and getting the news accidentally, if at all. There are a -great many people in this world of ours—let us say the average people, -in order to be mathematically exact—who have to be educated up to an -appreciation of what is bright and beautiful, or bold and interesting. -Some of Mr. Grady’s methods were new even in American journalism, and it -is no wonder that his dashing experiments with the _Daily Herald_ were -failures, or that commonplace people regarded them as crude and reckless -manifestations of a purpose and a desire to create a sensation. -Moreover, it should be borne in mind that when the _Daily Herald_ was -running its special locomotives up and down the railroads of the State, -the field of journalism in Atlanta was exceedingly narrow and -provincial. The town had been rescued from the village shape, but -neither its population nor its progress warranted the experiments on the -_Herald_. They were mistakes of time and place, but they were not -mistakes of conception and execution. They helped to educate and -enlighten the public, and to give that dull, clumsy, and slow-moving -body a taste of the spirit and purpose of modern journalism. The public -liked the taste that it got, and smacked its lips over it and remembered -it, and was always ready after that to respond promptly to the efforts -of Mr. Grady to give it the work of his head and hands. - -Bright and buoyant as he was, his early failures in journalism dazed and -mortified him, but they did not leave him depressed. If he had his hours -of depression and gloom he reserved them for himself. Even when all his -resources had been exhausted, he was the same genial, witty, and -appreciative companion, the center of attraction wherever he went. The -year 1876 was the turning-point in his career in more ways than one. In -the fall of that year, Captain Evan P. Howell bought a controlling -interest in the _Constitution_. The day after the purchase was made, -Captain Howell met Mr. Grady, who was on his way to the passenger -station. - -“I was just hunting for you,” said Captain Howell. “I want to have a -talk with you.” - -“Well, you’ll have to talk mighty fast,” said Mr. Grady. “Atlanta’s -either too big for me, or I am too big for Atlanta.” - -It turned out that the young editor, discomfited in Atlanta, but not -discouraged, was on his way to Augusta to take charge of the -_Constitutionalist_ of that city. Captain Howell offered him a position -at once, which was promptly accepted. There was no higgling or -bargaining; the two men were intimate friends; there was something -congenial in their humor, in their temperaments, and in a certain fine -audacity in political affairs that made the two men invincible in -Georgia politics from the day they began working together. Before the -train that was to bear Mr. Grady to Augusta had steamed out of the -station, he was on his way to the _Constitution_ office to enter on his -duties, and then and there practically began between the two men a -partnership as intimate in its relations of both friendship and business -as it was important on its bearings on the wonderful success of the -_Constitution_ and on the local history and politics of Georgia. It was -an ideal partnership in many respects, and covered almost every -movement, with one exception, that the two friends made. That exception -was the prohibition campaign in Atlanta, that attracted such widespread -attention throughout the country. Mr. Grady represented the -prohibitionists and Captain Howell the anti-prohibitionists, and it was -one of the most vigorous and amusing campaigns the town has ever -witnessed. Each partner was the chief speaker of the side he -represented, and neither lost an opportunity to tell a good-humored joke -at the other’s expense. Thus, while the campaign was an earnest one in -every respect, and even embittered to some small extent by the -thoughtless utterances of those who seem to believe that moral issues -can best be settled by a display of fanaticism, the tension was greatly -relieved by the wit, the humor, the good nature and the good sense which -the two leaders injected into the canvas. - -The sentimental side of Mr. Grady’s character was more largely and more -practically developed than that of any other person I have ever seen. In -the great majority of cases sentiment develops into a sentimentality -that is sometimes maudlin, sometimes officious, and frequently -offensive. In most people it develops as the weakest and least -attractive side of their character. It was the stronghold of Mr. Grady’s -nature. It enveloped his whole career, to use Matthew Arnold’s phrase, -in sweetness and light, and made his life a real dispensation in behalf -of the lives of others. Wherever he found suffering and sorrow, no -matter how humble—wherever he found misery, no matter how coarse and -degraded, he struck hands with them then and there, and wrapped them -about and strengthened them with his abundant sympathy. Until he could -give them relief in some shape, he became their partner, and a very -active and energetic partner he was. I have often thought that his words -of courage and cheer, always given with a light and humorous touch to -hide his own feelings, was worth more than the rich man’s grudging gift. -It was this side of Mr. Grady’s nature that caused him to turn with such -readiness to the festivities of Christmas. He was a great admirer of -Charles Dickens, especially of that writer’s Christmas literature. It -was an ideal season with Mr. Grady, and it presented itself to his mind -less as a holiday time than as an opportunity to make others happy—the -rich as well as the poor. He had a theory that the rich who have become -poor by accident or misfortune suffer the stings of poverty more keenly -than the poor who have always been poor, for the reason that they are -not qualified to fight against conditions that are at once strange and -crushing. Several Christmases ago, I had the pleasure of witnessing a -little episode in which he illustrated his theory to his own -satisfaction as well as to mine. - -On that particular Christmas eve, there was living in Atlanta an old -gentleman who had at one time been one of the leading citizens of the -town. He had in fact been a powerful influence in the politics of the -State, but the war swept away his possessions, and along with them all -the conditions and surroundings that had enabled him to maintain himself -comfortably. His misfortunes came on him when he was too old to begin -the struggle with life anew with any reasonable hope of success. He gave -way to a disposition that had been only convivial in his better days -when he had hope and pride to sustain him, and he sank lower until he -had nearly reached the gutter. - -I joined Mr. Grady as he left the office, and we walked slowly down the -street enjoying the kaleidoscopic view of the ever-shifting, ever -hurrying crowd as it swept along the pavements. In all that restless and -hastening throng there seemed to be but one man bent on no message of -enjoyment or pleasure, and he was old and seedy-looking. He was gazing -about him in an absent-minded way. The weather was not cold, but a -disagreeable drizzle was falling. - -“Yonder is the Judge,” said Mr. Grady, pointing to the seedy-looking old -man. “Let’s go and see what he is going to have for Christmas.” - -I found out long afterwards that the old man had long been a pensioner -on Mr. Grady’s bounty, but there was nothing to suggest this in the way -in which the young editor approached the Judge. His manner was the very -perfection of cordiality and consideration, though there was just a -touch of gentle humor in his bright eyes. - -“It isn’t too early to wish you a merry Christmas, I hope,” said Mr. -Grady, shaking hands with the old man. - -“No, no,” replied the Judge, straightening himself up with dignity; “not -at all. The same to you, my boy.” - -“Well,” remarked Mr. Grady lightly, “you ought to be fixing up for it. -I’m not as old as you are, and I’ve got lots of stirring around and -shopping to do if I have any fun at home.” - -The eyes of the Judge sought the ground. “No. I was—ah—just -considering.” Then he looked up into the laughing but sympathetic eyes -of the boyish young fellow, and his dignity sensibly relaxed. “I was -only—ah—Grady, let me see you a moment.” - -The two walked to the edge of the pavement, and talked together some -little time. I did not overhear the conversation, but learned afterwards -that the Judge told Mr. Grady that he had no provisions at home, and no -money to buy them with, and asked for a small loan. - -“I’ll do better than that,” said Mr. Grady. “I’ll go with you and buy -them myself. Come with us,” he remarked to me with a quizzical smile. -“The Judge here has found a family in distress, and we are going to send -them something substantial for Christmas.” - -We went to a grocery store near at hand, and I saw, as we entered, that -the Judge had not only recovered his native dignity, but had added a -little to suit the occasion. I observed that his bearing was even -haughty. Mr. Grady had observed it, too, and the humor of the situation -so delighted him that he could hardly control the laughter in his voice. - -“Now, Judge,” said Mr. Grady, as we approached the counter, “we must be -discreet as well as liberal. We must get what you think this suffering -family most needs. You call off the articles, the clerk here will check -them off, and I will have them sent to the house.” - -The Judge leaned against the counter with a careless dignity quite -inimitable, and glanced at the well-filled shelves. - -“Well,” said he, thrumming on a paper-box, and smacking his lips -thoughtfully, “we will put down first a bottle of chow-chow pickles.” - -“Why, of course,” exclaimed Mr. Grady, his face radiant with mirth; “it -is the very thing. What next?” - -“Let me see,” said the Judge, closing his eyes reflectively—“two -tumblers of strawberry jelly, three pounds of mince-meat, and two pounds -of dates, if you have real good ones, and—yes—two cans of deviled ham.” - -Every article the Judge ordered was something he had been used to in his -happier days. The whole episode was like a scene from one of Dickens’s -novels, and I have never seen Mr. Grady more delighted. He was delighted -with the humor of it, and appreciated in his own quaint and charming way -and to the fullest extent the pathos of it. He dwelt on it then and -afterwards, and often said that he envied the broken-down old man the -enjoyment of the luxuries of which he had so long been deprived. - -On a memorable Christmas day not many years after, Mr. Grady stirred -Atlanta to its very depths by his eloquent pen, and brought the whole -community to the heights of charity and unselfishness on which he always -stood. He wrought the most unique manifestation of prompt and thoughtful -benevolence that is to be found recorded in modern times. The day before -Christmas was bitter cold, and the night fell still colder, giving -promise of the coldest weather that had been felt in Georgia for many -years. The thermometer fell to zero, and it was difficult for -comfortably clad people to keep warm even by the fires that plenty had -provided, and it was certain that there would be terrible suffering -among the poor of the city. The situation was one that appealed in the -strongest manner to Mr. Grady’s sympathies. It appealed, no doubt, to -the sympathies of all charitably-disposed people; but the shame of -modern charity is its lack of activity. People are horrified when -starving people are found near their doors, when a poor woman wanders -about the streets until death comes to her relief; they seem to forget -that it is the duty of charity to act as well as to give. Mr. Grady was -a man of action. He did not wait for the organization of a relief -committee, and the meeting of prominent citizens to devise ways and -means for dispensing alms. He was his own committee. His plans were -instantly formed and promptly carried out. The organization was complete -the moment he determined that the poor of Atlanta should not suffer for -lack of food, clothing, or fuel. He sent his reporters out into the -highways and byways, and into every nook and corner of the city. He took -one assignment for himself, and went about through the cold from house -to house. He had a consultation with the Mayor at midnight, and cases of -actual suffering were relieved then and there. The next morning, which -was Sunday, the columns of the _Constitution_ teemed with the results of -the investigation which Mr. Grady and his reporters had made. A stirring -appeal was made in the editorial columns for aid for the poor—such an -appeal as only Mr. Grady could make. The plan of relief was carefully -made out. The _Constitution_ was prepared to take charge of whatever the -charitably disposed might feel inclined to send to its office—and -whatever was sent should be sent early. - -The effect of this appeal was astonishing—magical, in fact. It seemed -impossible to believe that any human agency could bring about such a -result. By eight o’clock on Christmas morning—the day being Sunday—the -street in front of the _Constitution_ office was jammed with wagons, -drays, and vehicles of all kinds, and the office itself was transformed -into a vast depot of supplies. The merchants and business men had opened -their stores as well as their hearts, and the coal and wood dealers had -given the keys of their establishments into the gentle hands of charity. -Men who were not in business subscribed money, and this rose into a -considerable sum. When Mr. Grady arrived on the scene, he gave a shout -of delight, and cut up antics as joyous as those of a schoolboy. Then he -proceeded to business. He had everything in his head, and he organized -his relief trains and put them in motion more rapidly than any general -ever did. By noon, there was not a man, woman, or child, white or black, -in the city of Atlanta that lacked any of the necessaries of life, and -to such an extent had the hearts of the people been stirred that a large -reserve of stores was left over after everybody had been supplied. It -was the happiest Christmas day the poor of Atlanta ever saw, and the -happiest person of all was Henry Grady. - -It is appropriate to his enjoyment of Christmas to give here a beautiful -editorial he wrote on Christmas day a year before he was buried. It is a -little prose poem that attracted attention all over the country. Mr. -Grady called it - - - A PERFECT CHRISTMAS DAY. - - No man or woman now living will see again such a Christmas day - as the one which closed yesterday, when the dying sun piled the - western skies with gold and purple. - - A winter day it was, shot to the core with sunshine. It was - enchanting to walk abroad in its prodigal beauty, to breathe its - elixir, to reach out the hands and plunge them open-fingered - through its pulsing waves of warmth and freshness. It was June - and November welded and fused into a perfect glory that held the - sunshine and snow beneath tender and splendid skies. To have - winnowed such a day from the teeming winter was to have found an - odorous peach on a bough whipped in the storms of winter. One - caught the musk of yellow grain, the flavor of ripening nuts, - the fragrance of strawberries, the exquisite odor of violets, - the aroma of all seasons in the wonderful day. The hum of bees - underrode the whistling wings of wild geese flying southward. - The fires slept in drowsing grates, while the people, marveling - outdoors, watched the soft winds woo the roses and the lilies. - - Truly it was a day of days. Amid its riotous luxury surely life - was worth living to hold up the head and breathe it in as - thirsting men drink water; to put every sense on its gracious - excellence; to throw the hands wide apart and hug whole armfuls - of the day close to the heart, till the heart itself is - enraptured and illumined. God’s benediction came down with the - day, slow dropping from the skies. God’s smile was its light, - and all through and through its supernal beauty and stillness, - unspoken but appealing to every heart and sanctifying every - soul, was His invocation and promise, “Peace on earth, good will - to men.” - - - IV. - -Mr. Grady took great interest in children and young people. It pleased -him beyond measure to be able to contribute to their happiness. He knew -all the boys in the _Constitution_ office, and there is quite a little -army of them employed there in one way and another; knew all about their -conditions, their hopes and their aspirations, and knew their histories. -He had favorites among them, but his heart went out to all. He -interested himself in them in a thousand little ways that no one else -would have thought of. He was never too busy to concern himself with -their affairs. A year or two before he died he organized a dinner for -the newsboys and carriers. It was at first intended that the dinner -should be given by the _Constitution_, but some of the prominent people -heard of it, and insisted in making contributions. Then it was decided -to accept contributions from all who might desire to send anything, and -the result of it was a dinner of magnificent proportions. The tables -were presided over by prominent society ladies, and the occasion was a -very happy one in all respects. - -This is only one of a thousand instances in which Mr. Grady interested -himself in behalf of young people. Wherever he could find boys who were -struggling to make a living, with the expectation of making something of -themselves; wherever he could find boys who were giving their earnings -to widowed mothers—and he found hundreds of them—he went to their aid as -promptly and as effectually as he carried out all his schemes, whether -great or small. It was his delight to give pleasure to all the children -that he knew, and even those he didn’t know. He had the spirit and the -manner of a boy, when not engrossed in work, and he enjoyed life with -the zest and enthusiasm of a lad of twelve. He was in his element when a -circus was in town, and it was a familiar and an entertaining sight to -see him heading a procession of children—sometimes fifty in line—going -to the big tents to see the animals and witness the antics of the -clowns. At such times, he considered himself on a frolic, and laid his -dignity on the shelf. His interest in the young, however, took a more -serious shape, as I have said. When Mr. Clark Howell, the son of Captain -Evan Howell, attained his majority, Mr. Grady wrote him a letter, which -I give here as one of the keys to the character of this many-sided man. -Apart from this, it is worth putting in print for the wholesome advice -it contains. The young man to whom it was written has succeeded Mr. -Grady as managing editor of the _Constitution_. The letter is as -follows: - - - ATLANTA, GA., _Sept. 20, 1884_. - - MY DEAR CLARK:—I suppose that just about the time I write this - to you—a little after midnight—you are twenty-one years old. If - you were born a little later than this hour it is your mother’s - fault (or your father’s), and I am not to blame for it. I - assume, therefore, that this is your birthday, and I send you a - small remembrance. I send you a pen (that you may wear as a - cravat-pin) for several reasons. In the first place, I have no - money, my dear boy, with which to buy you something new. In the - next place, it is the symbol of the profession to which we both - belong, in which each has done some good work, and will, God - being willing, do much more. Take the pen, wear it, and let it - stand as a sign of the affection I have for you. - - Somehow or other (as the present is a right neat one I have the - right to bore you a little) I look upon you as my own boy. My - son will be just about your age when you are about mine, and he - will enter the paper when you are about where I am. I have got - to looking at you as a sort of prefiguring of what my son may - be, and of looking over you, and rejoicing in your success, as I - shall want you to feel toward him. Let me write to you what I - would be willing for you to write to him. - - _Never Gamble._ Of all the vices that enthrall men, this is the - worst, the strongest, and the most insidious. Outside of the - morality of it, it is the poorest investment, the poorest - business, and the poorest fun. No man is safe who plays at all. - It is easiest _never_ to play. I never knew a man, a gentleman - and man of business, who did not regret the time and money he - had wasted in it. A man who plays poker is unfit for every other - business on earth. - - _Never Drink._ I love liquor and I love the fellowship involved - in drinking. My safety has been that I never drink at all. It is - much easier not to drink at all than to drink a little. If I had - to attribute what I have done in life to any one thing, I should - attribute it to the fact that I am a teetotaler. As sure as you - are born, it is the pleasantest, the easiest, and the safest - way. - - _Marry Early._ There is nothing that steadies a young fellow - like marrying a good girl and raising a family. By marrying - young your children grow up when they are a pleasure to you. You - feel the responsibility of life, the sweetness of life, and you - avoid bad habits. - - If you never drink, never gamble, and marry early, there is no - limit to the useful and distinguished life you may live. You - will be the pride of your father’s heart, and the joy of your - mother’s. - - I don’t know that there is any happiness on earth worth having - outside of the happiness of knowing that you have done your duty - and that you have tried to do good. You try to build up,—there - are always plenty others who will do all the tearing down that - is necessary. You try to live in the sunshine,—men who stay in - the shade always get mildewed. - - I will not tell you how much I think of you or how proud I am of - you. We will let that develop gradually. There is only one thing - I am a little disappointed in. You don’t seem to care quite - enough about base-ball and other sports. Don’t make the mistake - of standing aloof from these things and trying to get old too - soon. Don’t underrate out-door athletic sports as an element of - American civilization and American journalism. I am afraid you - inherit this disposition from your father, who has never been - quite right on this subject, but who is getting better, and will - soon be all right, I think. - - Well, I will quit. May God bless you, my boy, and keep you happy - and wholesome at heart, and in health. If He does this, we’ll - try and do the rest. - - Your friend, H. W. GRADY. - - -Mr. Grady’s own boyishness led him to sympathize with everything that -appertains to boyhood. His love for his own children led him to take an -interest in other children. He wanted to see them enjoy themselves in a -boisterous, hearty, health-giving way. The sports that men forget or -forego possessed a freshness for him that he never tried to conceal. His -remarks, in the letter just quoted, in regard to out-door sports, are -thoroughly characteristic. In all contests of muscle, strength, -endurance and skill he took a continual and an absorbing interest. At -school he excelled in all athletic sports and out-door games. He had a -gymnasium of his own, which was thrown open to his school-mates, and -there he used to practice for hours at a time. His tastes in this -direction led a great many people, all his friends, to shake their heads -a little, especially as he was not greatly distinguished for -scholarship, either at school or college. They wondered, too, how, after -neglecting the text-books, he could stand so near the head of his -classes. He did not neglect his books. During the short time he devoted -to them each day, his prodigious memory and his wonderful powers of -assimilation enabled him to master their contents as thoroughly as boys -that had spent half the night in study. Even his family were astonished -at his standing in school, knowing how little time he devoted to his -text-books. He found time, however, in spite of his devotion to out-door -sports and athletic exercises, to read every book in Athens, and in -those days every family in town had a library of more or less value. - -He had a large library of his own, and, by exchanging his books with -other boys and borrowing, he managed to get at the pith and marrow of -all the English literature to be found in the university town. Not -content with this, he became, during one of his vacation periods, a -clerk in the only bookstore in Athens. The only compensation that he -asked was the privilege of reading when there were no customers to be -waited on. This was during his eleventh year, and by the time he was -twelve he was by far the best-read boy that Athens had ever known. This -habit of reading he kept up to the day of his death. He read all the new -books as they came out, and nothing pleased him better than to discuss -them with some congenial friend. He had no need to re-read his old -favorites—the books he loved as boy and man—for these he could remember -almost chapter by chapter. He read with amazing rapidity; it might be -said that he literally absorbed whatever interested him, and his -sympathies were so wide and his taste so catholic that it was a poor -writer indeed in whom he could not find something to commend. He was -fond of light literature, but the average modern novel made no -impression on him. He enjoyed it to some extent, and was amazed as well -as amused at the immense amount of labor expended on the trivial affairs -of life by the writers who call themselves realists. He was somewhat -interested in Henry James’s “Portrait of a Lady,” mainly, I suspect, -because it so cleverly hits off the character of the modern female -newspaper correspondent in the person of Miss Henrietta Stackpole. Yet -there was much in the book that interested him—the dreariness of parts -of it was relieved by Mrs. Touchett. “Dear old Mrs. Touchett!” he used -to say. “Such immense cleverness as hers does credit to Mr. James. She -refuses to associate with any of the other characters in the book. I -should like to meet her, and shake hands with her, and talk the whole -matter over.” - -When a school-boy, and while devouring all the stories that fell in his -way, young Grady was found one day reading Blackstone. His brother asked -him if he thought of studying law. “No,” was the reply, “but I think -everyone ought to read Blackstone. Besides, the book interests me.” With -the light and the humorous he always mixed the solids. He was fond of -history, and was intensely interested in all the social questions of the -day. He set great store by the new literary development that has been -going on in the South since the war, and sought to promote it by every -means in his power, through his newspaper and by his personal influence. -He looked forward to the time when the immense literary field, as yet -untouched in the South, would be as thoroughly worked and developed as -that of New England has been; and he thought that this development might -reasonably be expected to follow, if it did not accompany, the progress -of the South in other directions. This idea was much in his mind, and in -the daily conversations with the members of his editorial staff, he -recurred to it time and again. One view that he took of it was entirely -practical, as, indeed, most of his views were. He thought that the -literature of the South ought to be developed, not merely in the -interest of belles-lettres, but in the interest of American history. He -regarded it as in some sort a weapon of defense, and he used to refer in -terms of the warmest admiration to the oftentimes unconscious, but -terribly certain and effective manner in which New England had fortified -herself by means of the literary genius of her sons and daughters. He -perceived, too, that all the talk about a distinctive Southern -literature, which has been in vogue among the contributors of the Lady’s -Books and annuals, was silly in the extreme. He desired it to be -provincial in a large way, for, in this country, provinciality is only -another name for the patriotism that has taken root in the rural -regions, but his dearest wish was that it should be purely and truly -American in its aim and tendency. It was for this reason that he was -ready to welcome any effort of a Southern writer that showed a spark of -promise. For such he was always ready with words of praise. - -He was fond, as I have said, of Dickens, but his favorite novel, above -all others, was Victor Hugo’s “Les Misérables.” His own daring -imagination fitted somewhat into the colossal methods of Hugo, and his -sympathies enabled him to see in the character of Jean Valjean a type of -the pathetic struggle for life and justice that is going on around us -every day. Mr. Grady read between the lines and saw beneath the surface, -and he was profoundly impressed with the strong and vital purpose of -Hugo’s book. Its almost ferocious protest against injustice, and its -indignant arraignment of the inhumanity of society, stirred him deeply. -Not only the character of Jean Valjean, but the whole book appealed to -his sense of the picturesque and artistic. The large lines on which the -book is cast, the stupendous nature of the problem it presents, the -philanthropy, the tenderness—all these moved him as no other work of -fiction ever did. Mr. Grady’s pen was too busy to concern itself with -matters merely literary. He rarely undertook to write what might be -termed a literary essay; the affairs of life—the demands of the hour—the -pressure of events—precluded this; but all through his lectures and -occasional speeches (that were never reported), there are allusions to -Jean Valjean, and to Victor Hugo. I have before me the rough notes of -some of his lectures, and in these appear more than once picturesque -allusions to Hugo’s hero struggling against fate and circumstance. - - - V. - -The home-life of Mr. Grady was peculiarly happy. He was blessed, in the -first place, with a good mother, and he never grew away from her -influence in the smallest particular. When his father was killed in the -war, his mother devoted herself the more assiduously to the training of -her children. She molded the mind and character of her brilliant son, -and started him forth on a career that has no parallel in our history. -To that mother his heart always turned most tenderly. She had made his -boyhood bright and happy, and he was never tired of bringing up -recollections of those wonderful days. On one occasion, the Christmas -before he died, he visited his mother at the old home in Athens. He -returned brimming over with happiness. To his associates in the -_Constitution_ office he told the story of his visit, and what he said -has been recorded by Mrs. Maude Andrews Ohl, a member of the editorial -staff. - -“Well do I remember,” says Mrs. Ohl, “how he spent his last year’s -holiday season, and the little story he told me of it as I sat in his -office one morning after New Year’s. - -“He had visited his mother in Athens Christmas week, and he said: ‘I -don’t think I ever felt happier than when I reached the little home of -my boyhood. I got there at night. She had saved supper for me and she -had remembered all the things I liked. She toasted me some cheese over -the fire. Why, I hadn’t tasted anything like it since I put off my round -jackets. And then she had some home-made candy, she knew I used to love -and bless her heart! I just felt sixteen again as we sat and talked, and -she told me how she prayed for me and thought of me always, and what a -brightness I had been to her life, and how she heard me coming home in -every boy that whistled along the street. When I went to bed she came -and tucked the covers all around me in the dear old way that none but a -mother’s hands know, and I felt so happy and so peaceful and so full of -tender love and tender memories that I cried happy, grateful tears until -I went to sleep.’ - -“When he finished his eyes were full of tears and so were mine. He -brushed his hands across his brow swiftly and said, laughingly: ‘Why, -what are you crying about? What do you know about all this sort of -feeling!’ - -“He never seemed brighter than on that day. He had received an ovation -of loving admiration from the friends of his boyhood at his old home, -and these honors from the hearts that loved him as a friend were dearer -than all others. It was for these friends, these countrymen of his own, -that his honors were won and his life was sacrificed.” - -From the home-life of his boyhood he stepped into the fuller and richer -home-life that followed his marriage. He married the sweetheart of his -early youth, Miss Julia King, of Athens, and she remained his sweetheart -to the last. The first pseudonym that he used in his contributions to -the _Constitution_, “King Hans,” was a fanciful union of Miss King’s -name with his, and during his service in Florida, long after he was -married, he signed his telegrams “Jule.” In the office not a day passed -that he did not have something to say of his wife and children. They -were never out of his thoughts, no matter what business occupied his -mind. In his speeches there are constant allusions to his son, and in -his conversation the gentle-eyed maiden, his daughter, was always -tenderly figuring. His home-life was in all respects an ideal one; ideal -in its surroundings, in its influences, and in its purposes. I think -that the very fact of his own happiness gave him a certain restlessness -in behalf of the happiness of others. His writings, his speeches, his -lectures—his whole life, in fact—teem with references to home-happiness -and home-content. Over and over again he recurs to these things—always -with the same earnestness, always with the same enthusiasm. He never -meets a man on the street, but he wonders if he has a happy home—if he -is contented—if he has children that he loves. To him home was a shrine -to be worshiped at—a temple to be happy in, no matter how humble, or how -near to the brink of poverty. - -One of his most successful lectures, and the one that he thought the -most of, was entitled “A Patchwork Palace: The story of a Home.” The -Patchwork Palace still exists in Atlanta, and the man who built it is -living in it to-day. Mr. Grady never wrote out the lecture, and all that -can be found of it is a few rough and faded notes scratched on little -sheets of paper. On one occasion, however, he condensed the opening of -his lecture for the purpose of making a newspaper sketch of the whole. -It is unfinished, but the following has something of the flavor of the -lecture. He called the builder of the Palace Mr. Mortimer Pitts, though -that is not his name: - - - Mr. Mortimer Pitts was a rag-picker. After a patient study of - the responsibility that the statement carries, I do not hesitate - to say that he was the poorest man that ever existed. He lived - literally from hand to mouth. His breakfast was a crust; his - dinner a question; his supper a regret. His earthly wealth, - beyond the rags that covered him, was—a cow that I believe gave - both butter-milk and sweet-milk—a dog that gave neither—and a - hand-cart in which he wheeled his wares about. His wife had a - wash-tub that she held in her own title, a wash-board similarly - possessed, and two chairs that came to her as a dowry. - - In opposition to this poverty, my poor hero had—first, a name - (Mortimer Pitts, Esq.) which his parents, whose noses were in - the air when they christened him, had saddled upon him - aspiringly, but which followed him through life, his condition - being put in contrast with its rich syllables, as a sort of - standing sarcasm. Second, a multitude of tow-headed children - with shallow-blue eyes. The rag-picker never looked above the - tow-heads of his brats, nor beyond the faded blue eyes of his - wife. His world was very small. The cricket that chirped beneath - the hearthstone of the hovel in which he might chance to live, - and the sunshine that crept through the cracks, filled it with - music and light. Trouble only strengthened the bonds of love and - sympathy that held the little brood together, and whenever the - Wolf showed his gaunt form at the door, the white faces, and the - blue eyes, and the tow-heads only huddled the closer to each - other, until, in very shame, the intruder would take himself - off. - - Mr. Pitts had no home. With the restlessness of an Arab he - flitted from one part of the city to another. He was famous for - frightening the early market-maids by pushing his white round - face, usually set in a circle of smaller white round faces, - through the windows of long-deserted hovels. Wherever there was - a miserable shell of a house that whistled when the wind blew, - and wept when the rain fell, there you might be sure of finding - Mr. Pitts at one time or another. I do not care to state how - many times my hero, with an uncertain step and a pitifully - wandering look—his fertile wife, in remote or imminent process - of fruitage—his wan and sedate brood of young ones—his cow, a - thoroughly conscientious creature, who passed her scanty diet to - milk to the woeful neglect of tissue—and his dog, too honest for - any foolish pride, ambling along in an unpretending, - bench-legged sort of way,—I do not care to state, I say, how - many times this pale and melancholy procession passed through - the streets, seeking for a shelter in which it might hide its - wretchedness and ward off the storms. - - During these periods of transition, Mr. Pitts was wonderfully - low-spirited. “Even a bird has its nest; and the poorest animal - has some sort of a hole in the ground, or a roost where it can - go when it is a-weary,” he said to me once, when I caught him - fluttering aimlessly out of a house which, under the influence - of a storm, had spit out its western wall, and dropped its upper - jaw dangerously near to the back of the cow. And from that time - forth, I fancied I noticed my poor friend’s face growing whiter, - and the blue in his eye deepening, and his lips becoming more - tremulous and uncertain. The shuffling figure, begirt with the - rag-picker’s bells, and dragging the wobbling cart, gradually - bended forward, and the look of childish content was gone from - his brow, and a great dark wrinkle had knotted itself there. - - And now let me tell you about the starting of the Palace. - - One day in the springtime, when the uprising sap ran through - every fibre of the forest, and made the trees as drunk as - lords—when the birds were full-throated, and the air was woven - thick with their songs of love and praise—when the brooks kissed - their uttermost banks, and the earth gave birth to flowers, and - all nature was elastic and alert, and thrilled to the core with - the ecstasy of the sun’s new courtship—a divine passion fell - like a spark into Mr. Mortimer Pitts’s heart. How it ever broke - through the hideous crust of poverty that cased the man about, I - do not know, nor shall we ever know ought but that God put it - there in his own gentle way. But there it was. It dropped into - the cold, dead heart like a spark—and there it flared and - trembled, and grew into a blaze, and swept through his soul, and - fed upon its bitterness until the scales fell off and the eyes - flashed and sparkled, and the old man was illumined with a - splendid glow like that which hurries youth to its love, or a - soldier to the charge. You would not have believed he was the - same man. You would have laughed had you been told that the old - fellow, sweltering in the dust, harnessed like a dog to a cart, - and plying his pick into the garbage heaps like a man worn down - to the stupidity of a machine, was burning and bursting with a - great ambition—that a passion as pure and as strong as ever - kindled blue blood, or steeled gentle nerves was tugging at his - heart-strings. And yet, so it was. The rag-picker was filled - with a consuming fire—and as he worked, and toiled, and starved, - his soul sobbed, and laughed, and cursed, and prayed. - - Mr. Pitts wanted a home. A man named Napoleon once wanted - universal empire. Mr. Pitts was vastly the more daring dreamer - of the two. - - I do not think he had ever had a home. Possibly, away back - beyond the years a dim, sweet memory of a hearthstone and a - gable roof with the rain pattering on it, and a cupboard and a - clock, and a deep, still well, came to him like an echo or a - dream. Be this as it may, our hero, crushed into the very mud - by poverty—upon knees and hands beneath his burden—fighting - like a beast for his daily food—shut out inexorably from all - suggestions of home—embittered by starvation—with his - faculties chained down apparently to the dreary problem of - to-day—nevertheless did lift his eyes into the gray future, - and set his soul upon a home. - - -This is a mere fragment—a bare synopsis of the opening of what was one -of the most eloquent and pathetic lectures ever delivered from the -platform. It was a beautiful idyll of home—an appeal, a eulogy—a -glimpse, as it were, of the passionate devotion with which he regarded -his own home. Here is another fragment of the lecture that follows -closely after the foregoing: - - - After a month’s struggle, Mr. Pitts purchased the ground on - which his home was to be built. It was an indescribable - hillside, bordering on the precipitous. A friend of mine - remarked that “it was such an aggravating piece of profanity - that the owner gave Mr. Pitts five dollars to accept the land - and the deed to it.” This report I feel bound to correct. Mr. - Pitts purchased the land. He gave three dollars for it. The deed - having been properly recorded, Mr. Pitts went to work. He - borrowed a shovel, and, perching himself against his hillside, - began loosening the dirt in front of him, and spilling it out - between his legs, reminding me, as I passed daily, of a giant - dirt-dauber. At length (and not very long either, for his - remorseless desire made his arms fly like a madman’s) he - succeeded in scooping an apparently flat place out of the - hillside and was ready to lay the foundation of his house. - - There was a lapse of a month, and I thought that my hero’s soul - had failed him—that the fire, with so little of hope to feed - upon, had faded and left his heart full of ashes. But at last - there was a pile of dirty second-hand lumber placed on the - ground. I learned on inquiry that it was the remains of a small - house of ignoble nature which had been left standing in a vacant - lot, and which had been given him by the owner. Shortly - afterwards there came some dry-goods boxes; then three or four - old sills; then a window-frame; then the wreck of another little - house; and then the planks of an abandoned show-bill board. - Finally the house began to grow. The sills were put together by - Mr. Pitts and his wife. A rafter shot up toward the sky and - stood there, like a lone sentinel, for some days, and then - another appeared, and then another, and then the fourth. Then - Mr. Pitts, with an agility born of desperation, swarmed up one - of them, and began to lay the cross-pieces. God must have - commissioned an angel especially to watch over the poor man and - save his bones, for nothing short of a miracle could have kept - him from falling while engaged in the perilous work. The frame - once up, he took the odds and ends of planks and began to fit - them. The house grew like a mosaic. No two planks were alike in - size, shape, or color. Here was a piece of a dry-goods box, with - its rich yellow color, and a mercantile legend still painted on - it, supplemented by a dozen pieces of plank; and there was an - old door nailed up bodily and fringed around with bits of board - picked up at random. It was a rare piece of patchwork, in which - none of the pieces were related to or even acquainted with each - other. A nose, an eye, an ear, a mouth, a chin picked up at - random from the ugliest people of a neighborhood, and put - together in a face, would not have been odder than was this - house. The window was ornamented with panes of three different - sizes, and some were left without any glass at all, as Mr. Pitts - afterwards remarked, “to see through.” The chimney was a piece - of old pipe that startled you by protruding unexpectedly through - the wall, and looked as if it were a wound. The entire absence - of smoke at the outer end of this chimney led to a suspicion, - justified by the facts, that there was no stove at the other - end. The roof, which Mrs. Pitts, with a recklessness beyond the - annals, mounted herself and attended to, was partially shingled - and partially planked, this diversity being in the nature of a - plan, as Mr. Pitts confidentially remarked, “to try which style - was the best.” - - Such a pathetic travesty on house-building was never before - seen. It started a smile or a tear from every passer-by, as it - reared its homely head there, so patched, uncouth, and poor. And - yet the sun of Austerlitz never brought so much happiness to the - heart of Napoleon as came to Mr. Pitts, as he crept into this - hovel, and, having a blanket before the doorless door, dropped - on his knees and thanked God that at last he had found a home. - - The house grew in a slow and tedious way. It ripened with the - seasons. It budded in the restless and rosy spring; unfolded and - developed in the long summer; took shape and fullness in the - brown autumn; and stood ready for the snows and frost when - winter had come. It represented a year of heroism, desperation, - and high resolve. It was the sum total of an ambition that, - planted in the breast of a king, would have shaken the world. - - To say that Mr. Pitts enjoyed it would be to speak but a little - of the truth. I have a suspicion that the older children do not - appreciate it as they should. They have a way, when they see a - stranger examining their home with curious and inquiring eyes, - of dodging away from the door shamefacedly, and of reappearing - cautiously at the window. But Mr. Pitts is proud of it. There is - no foolishness about him. He sits on his front piazza, which, I - regret to say, is simply a plank resting on two barrels, and - smokes his pipe with the serenity of a king; and when a stroller - eyes his queer little home curiously, he puts on the air that - the Egyptian gentleman (now deceased) who built the pyramids - might have worn while exhibiting that stupendous work. I have - watched him hours at a time enjoying his house. I have seen him - walk around it slowly, tapping it critically with his knife, as - if to ascertain its state of ripeness, or pressing its corners - solemnly as if testing its muscular development. - - -Here ends this fragment—a delicious bit of description that only seems -to be exaggerated because the hovel was seen through the eyes of a -poet—of a poet who loved all his fellow men from the greatest to the -smallest, and who was as much interested in the home-making of Mr. Pitts -as he was in the making of Governors and Senators, a business in which -he afterwards became an adept. From the fragments of one of his -lectures, the title of which I am unable to give, I have pieced together -another story as characteristic of Mr. Grady as the Patchwork Palace. It -is curious to see how the idea of home and of home-happiness runs -through it all: - - - One of the happiest men that I ever knew—one whose serenity was - unassailable, whose cheerfulness was constant, and from whose - heart a perennial spring of sympathy and love bubbled up—was a - man against whom all the powers of misfortune were centered. He - belonged to the tailors—those cross-legged candidates for - consumption. He was miserably poor. Fly as fast as it could - through the endless pieces of broadcloth, his hand could not - always win crusts for his children. But he walked on and on; his - thin white fingers faltered bravely through their tasks as the - hours slipped away, and his serene white face bended forward - over the tedious cloth into which, stitch after stitch, he was - working his life—and, with once in a while a wistful look at the - gleaming sunshine and the floating clouds, he breathed heavily - and painfully of the poisoned air of his work-room, from which a - score of stronger lungs had sucked all the oxygen. And when, at - night, he would go home, and find that there were just crusts - enough for the little ones to eat, the capricious old fellow - would dream that he was not hungry; and when pressed to eat of - the scanty store by his sad and patient wife, would with an air - of smartness pretend a sacred lie—that he had dined with a - friend—and then, with a heart that swelled almost to bursting, - turn away to hide his glistening eyes. Hungry? Of course he was, - time and again. As weak as his body was, as faltering as was the - little fountain that sent the life-blood from his heart—as - meagre as were his necessities, I doubt if there was a time in - all the long years when he was not hungry. - - Did you ever think of how many people have died out of this - world through starvation. Thousands! Not recorded in the books - as having died of starvation,—ah, no? Sometimes it is a thin and - watery sort of apoplexy—sometimes it is dyspepsia, and often - consumption. These terms read better. But there are thousands of - them, sensitive, shy gentlemen—too proud to beg and too honest - to steal—too straightforward to scheme or maneuver—too refined - to fill the public with their griefs—too heroic to whine—that - lock their sorrows up in their own hearts, and go on starving in - silence, weakening day after day from the lack of proper - food—the blood running slower and slower through their - veins—their pulse faltering as they pass through the various - stages of inanition, until at last, worn out, apathetic, - exhausted, they are struck by some casual illness, and lose - their hold upon life as easily and as naturally as the autumn - leaf, juiceless, withered and dry, parts from the bough to which - it has clung, and floats down the vast silence of the forest. - - But my tailor was cheerful. Nothing could disturb his serenity. - His thin white face was always lit with a smile, and his eyes - shone with a peace that passed my understanding. Hour after hour - he would sing an asthmatic little song that came in wheezes from - his starved lungs—a song that was pitiful and cracked, but that - came from his heart so freighted with love and praise that it - found the ears of Him who softens all distress and sweetens all - harmonies. I wondered where all this happiness came from. How - gushed this abundant stream from this broken reed—how sprung - this luxuriant flower of peace from the scant soil of poverty? - From these hard conditions, how came this ever-fresh felicity? - - After he had been turned out of his home, the tailor was taken - sick. His little song gave way to a hectic cough. His place at - the work-room was vacant, and a scanty bed in wretched lodgings - held his frail and fevered frame. The thin fingers clutched the - cover uneasily, as if they were restless of being idle while the - little ones were crying for bread. The tired man tossed to and - fro, racked by pain,—but still his face was full of content, and - no word of bitterness escaped him. And the little song, though - the poor lungs could not carry it to the lips, and the trembling - lips could not syllable its music, still lived in his heart and - shone through his happy eyes. “I will be happy soon,” he said in - a faltering way; “I will be better soon—strong enough to go to - work like a man again, for Bessie and the babies.” And he did - get better—better until his face had worn so thin that you could - count his heart-beats by the flush of blood that came and died - in his cheeks—better until his face had sharpened and his smiles - had worn their deep lines about his mouth—better until the poor - fingers lay helpless at his side, and his eyes had lost their - brightness. And one day, as his wife sat by his side, and the - sun streamed in the windows, and the air was full of the - fragrance of spring—he turned his face toward her and said: “I - am better now, my dear.” And, noting a rapturous smile playing - about his mouth, and a strange light kindling in his eyes, she - bended her head forward to lay her wifely kiss upon his face. - Ah! a last kiss, good wife, for thy husband! Thy kiss caught his - soul as it fluttered from his pale lips, and the flickering - pulse had died in his patient wrist, and the little song had - faded from his heart and gone to swell a divine chorus,—and at - last, after years of waiting, the old man was well! - - -There was nothing strained or artificial in the sentiment that led him -to dwell so constantly on the theme of home and home happiness. The -extracts I have given are merely the rough lecture notes which he wrote -down in order to confirm and congeal his ideas. On the platform, while -following the current of these notes, he injected into them the quality -of his rare and inimitable humor, the contrast serving to give greater -strength and coherence to the pathos that underlay it all. I do not know -that I have dwelt with sufficient emphasis on his humor. He could be -witty enough on occasion, but the sting of it seemed to leave a bad -taste in his mouth. The quality of his humor was not greatly different -from that of Charles Lamb. It was gentle and perennial—a perpetual -wonder and delight to his friends—irrepressible and unbounded—as antic -and as tricksy as that of a boy, as genial and as sweet as the smile of -a beautiful woman. Mr. Grady depended less on anecdote than any of our -great talkers and speakers, though the anecdote, apt, pat, and pointed, -was always ready at the proper moment. He depended rather on the -originality of his own point of view—on the results of his own -individuality. The charm of his personal presence was indescribable. In -every crowd and on every occasion he was a marked man. Quite -independently of his own intentions, he made his presence and his -influence felt. What he said, no matter how light and frivolous, no -matter how trivial, never failed to attract attention. He warmed the -hearts of the old and fired the minds of the young. He managed, in some -way, to impart something of the charm of his personality to his written -words, so that he carried light, and hope, and courage to many hearts, -and when he passed away, people who had never seen him fell to weeping -when they heard of his untimely death. - - - VI. - -There are many features and incidents in Mr. Grady’s life that cannot be -properly treated in this hurriedly written and altogether inadequate -sketch. His versatility was such that it would be difficult, even in a -deliberately written biography, to deal with its manifestations and -results as they deserve to be dealt with. At the North, the cry is, who -shall take his place as a peacemaker? At the South, who shall take his -place as a leader, as an orator, and as a peacemaker? In Atlanta, who -shall take his place as all of these, and as a builder-up of our -interests, our enterprises, and our industries! Who is to make for us -the happy and timely suggestion? Who is to speak the right word at the -right time! The loss the country has sustained in Mr. Grady’s death can -only be measurably estimated when we examine one by one the manifold -relations he bore to the people. - -I have spoken of the power of organization that he possessed. There is -hardly a public enterprise in Georgia or in Atlanta—begun and completed -since 1880—that does not bear witness to his ability, his energy, and -his unselfishness. His busy brain and prompt hand were behind the great -cotton exposition held in Atlanta in 1881. Late in the spring of 1887, -one of the editorial writers of the _Constitution_ remarked that the -next fair held in Atlanta should be called the Piedmont Exposition. -“That shall be its name,” said Mr. Grady, “and it will be held this -fall.” That was the origin of the Piedmont Exposition. Within a month -the exposition company had been organized, the land bought, and work on -the grounds begun. It seemed to be a hopeless undertaking—there was so -much to be done, and so little time to do it in. But Mr, Grady was equal -to the emergency. He so infused the town with his own energy and -enthusiasm that every citizen came to regard the exposition as a -personal matter, and the _Constitution_ hammered away at it with -characteristic iteration. There was not a detail of the great show from -beginning to end that was not of Mr. Grady’s suggestion. When it seemed -to him that he was taking too prominent a part in the management, he -would send for other members of the fair committee, pour his suggestions -into their ears, and thus evade the notoriety of introducing them -himself and prevent the possible friction that might be caused if he -made himself too prominent. He understood human nature perfectly, and -knew how to manage men. - -The exposition was organized and the grounds made ready in an incredibly -short time, and the fair was the most successful in every respect that -has ever been held in the South. Its attractions, which were all -suggested by Mr. Grady, appealed either to the interest or the curiosity -of the people, and the result was something wonderful. It is to be very -much doubted whether any one in this country, in time of peace, has seen -an assemblage of such vast and overwhelming proportions as that which -gathered in Atlanta on the principal day of the fair. Two years later, -the Piedmont Exposition was reorganized, and Mr. Grady once more had -practical charge of all the details. The result was an exhibition quite -as attractive as the first, to which the people responded as promptly as -before. The Exposition Company cleared something over $20,000, a result -unprecedented in the history of Southern fairs. - -In the interval of the two fairs, Mr. Grady organized the Piedmont -Chautauqua at a little station on the Georgia Pacific road, twenty miles -from Atlanta. Beautiful grounds were laid out and commodious buildings -put up. In all this work Mr. Grady took the most profound interest. The -intellectual and educational features of such an institution appealed -strongly to his tastes and sympathies, and to that active missionary -spirit which impelled him to be continually on the alert in behalf of -humanity. He expended a good deal of energy on the Chautauqua and on the -programme of exercises, but the people did not respond heartily, and the -session was not a financial success. And yet there never was a -Chautauqua assembly that had a richer and a more popular programme of -exercises. The conception was a success intellectually, and it will -finally grow into a success in other directions. Mr. Grady, with his -usual unselfishness, insisted on bearing the expenses of the lecturers -and others, though it crippled him financially to do so. He desired to -protect the capitalists who went into the enterprise on his account, -and, as is usual in such cases, the capitalists were perfectly willing -to be protected. Mr. Grady was of the opinion that his experience with -the Chautauqua business gave him a deeper and a richer knowledge of -human nature than he had ever had before. - -One morning Mr. Grady saw in a New York newspaper that a gentleman from -Texas was in that city making a somewhat unsuccessful effort to raise -funds for a Confederate veterans’ home. The comments of the newspaper -were not wholly unfriendly, but something in their tone stirred Mr. -Grady’s blood. “I will show them,” he said, “what can be done in -Georgia,” and with that he turned to his stenographer and dictated a -double-leaded editorial that stirred the State from one end to the -other. He followed it up the next day, and immediately subscriptions -began to flow in. He never suffered interest in the project to flag -until sufficient funds for a comfortable home for the Confederate -veterans had been raised. - -Previously, he had organized a movement for putting up a building for -the Young Men’s Christian Association, and that building now stands a -monument to his earnestness and unselfishness. Years ago, shortly after -he came to Atlanta, he took hold of the Young Men’s Library, which was -in a languishing condition, and put it on its feet. It was hard work, -for he was comparatively unknown then. Among other things, he organized -a lecture course for the benefit of the library, and he brought some -distinguished lecturers to Atlanta—among others the late S. S. Cox. Mr. -Cox telegraphed from New York that he would come to Atlanta, and also -the subject of the lecture, so that it could be properly advertised. The -telegram said that the title of the lecture was “Just Human,” and large -posters, bearing that title, were placed on the bill-boards and -distributed around town. As Mr. Grady said, “the town broke into a -profuse perspiration of placards bearing the strange device, while -wrinkles gathered on the brow of the public intellect and knotted -themselves hopelessly as it pondered over what might be the elucidation -of such a strangely-named subject. At last,” Mr. Grady goes on to say, -“the lecturer came, and a pleasant little gentleman he was, who beguiled -the walk to the hotel with the airiest of jokes and the brightest of -comment. At length, when he had registered his name in the untutored -chirography of the great, he took me to one side, and asked in an -undertone what those placards meant.” - -“That,” I replied, looking at him in astonishment, “is the subject of -your lecture.” - -“‘My lecture!’ he shrieked, ‘whose lecture? What lecture? My subject! -Whose subject? Why, sir,’ said he, trying to control himself, ‘my -subject is ‘Irish Humor,’ while this is ‘Just Human,’ and he put on his -spectacles and glared into space as if he were determined to wring from -that source some solution of this cruel joke.” - -By an error of transmission, “Irish Humor” had become “Just Human.” Mr. -Grady does not relate the sequel, but what followed was as -characteristic of him as anything in his unique career. - -“Well,” said he, turning to Mr. Cox, his bright eyes full of laughter, -“you stick to your subject, and I’ll take this ready-made one; you -lecture on ‘Irish Humor’ and I’ll lecture on ‘Just Human.’” - -And he did. He took the telegraphic error for a subject, and delivered -in Atlanta one of the most beautiful lectures ever heard here. There was -humor in it and laughter, but he handled his theme with such grace and -tenderness that the vast audience that sat entranced under his magnetic -oratory went home in tears. - -The lecture course that Mr. Grady instituted was never followed up, -although it was a successful one. It was his way, when he had organized -an enterprise and placed it on its feet, to turn his attention to -something else. Sometimes his successors were equal to the emergency, -and sometimes they were not. The Young Men’s Library has been in good -hands, and it is what may be termed a successful institution, but it is -not what it was when Mr. Grady was booming the town in its behalf. When -he put his hand to any enterprise or to any movement the effect seemed -to be magical. It was not his personal influence, for there were some -enterprises beyond the range of that, that responded promptly to his -touch. It was not his enthusiasm, for there have been thousands of men -quite as enthusiastic. Was it his methods? Perhaps the secret lies -hidden there; but I have often thought, while witnessing the results he -brought about, that he had at his command some new element, or quality, -or gift not vouchsafed to other men. Whatever it was, he employed it -only for the good of his city, his State, his section, and his country. -His patriotism was as prominent and as permanent as his unselfishness. -His public spirit was unbounded, and, above all things, restless and -eager. - -I have mentioned only a few of the more important enterprises in Atlanta -that owe their success to Mr. Grady. He was identified with every public -movement that took shape in Atlanta, and the people were always sure -that his interest and his influence were on the side of honesty and -justice. But his energies took a wider range. He was the very embodiment -of the spirit that he aptly named “the New South,”—the New South that, -reverently remembering and emulating the virtues of the old, and -striving to forget the bitterness of the past, turns its face to the -future and seeks to adapt itself to the conditions with which an -unsuccessful struggle has environed it, and to turn them to its profit. -Of the New South Mr. Grady was the prophet, if not the pioneer. He was -never tired of preaching about the rehabilitation of his section. Much -of the marvelous development that has taken place in the South during -the past ten years has been due to his eager and persistent efforts to -call the attention of the world to her vast resources. In his newspaper, -in his speeches, in his contributions to Northern periodicals, this was -his theme. No industry was too small to command his attention and his -aid, and none were larger than his expectations. His was the pen that -first drew attention to the iron fields of Alabama, and to the wonderful -marble beds and mineral wealth of Georgia. Other writers had preceded -him, perhaps, but it is due to his unique methods of advertising that -the material resources of the two States are in their present stage of -development. He had no individual interest in the development of the -material wealth of the South. During the past ten years there was not a -day when he was alive that he could not have made thousands of dollars -by placing his pen at the disposal of men interested in speculative -schemes. He had hundreds of opportunities to write himself rich, but he -never fell below the high level of unselfishness that marked his career -as boy and man. - -There was no limit to his interest in Southern development. The -development of the hidden wealth of the hills and valleys, while it -appealed strongly to an imagination that had its practical and -common-sense side, but not more strongly than the desperate struggle of -the farmers of the South in their efforts to recover from the disastrous -results of the war while facing new problems of labor and conditions -wholly strange. Mr. Grady gave them the encouragement of his voice and -pen, striving to teach them the lessons of hope and patience. He was -something more than an optimist. He was the embodiment, the very -essence, as it seemed—of that smiling faith in the future that brings -happiness and contentment, and he had the faculty of imparting his faith -to other people. For him the sun was always shining, and he tried to -make it shine for other men. At one period, when the farmers of Georgia -seemed to be in despair, and while there was a notable movement from -this State to Georgia, Mr. Grady caused the correspondents of the -_Constitution_ to make an investigation into the agricultural situation -in Georgia. The result was highly gratifying in every respect. The -correspondents did their work well, as, indeed, they could hardly fail -to do under the instructions of Mr. Grady. The farmers who had been -despondent took heart, and from that time to the present there has been -a steady improvement in the status of agriculture in Georgia. - -It would be difficult to describe or to give an adequate idea of the -work—remarkable in its extent as well as in its character—that Mr. Grady -did for Georgia and for the South. It was his keen and hopeful eyes that -first saw the fortunes that were to be made in Florida oranges. He wrote -for the _Constitution_ in 1877 a series of glowing letters that were -full of predictions and figures based on them. The matter was so new at -that time, and Mr. Grady’s predictions and estimates seemed to be so -extravagant, that some of the editors, irritated by his optimism, as -well as by his success as a journalist, alluded to his figures as -“Grady’s facts,” and this expression had quite a vogue, even among those -who were not unfriendly. - -Nevertheless there is not a prediction to be found in Mr. Grady’s -Florida letters that has not been fulfilled, and his figures appear to -be tame enough when compared with the real results that have been -brought about by the orange-growers. Long afterwards he alluded publicly -to “Grady’s facts,” accepted its application, and said he was proud that -his facts always turned out to be facts. - -It would be impossible to enumerate the practical subjects with which -Mr. Grady dealt in the _Constitution_. In the editorial rooms he was -continually suggesting the exhaustive treatment of some matter of real -public interest, and in the majority of instances, after making the -suggestion to one of his writers, he would treat the subject himself in -his own inimitable style. His pleasure trips were often itineraries in -behalf of the section he was visiting. He went on a pleasure trip to -Southern Georgia on one occasion, and here are the headlines of a few of -the letters he sent back: “Berries and Politics,” “The Savings of the -Georgia Farmers,” “The Largest Strawberry Farm in the State,” “A -Wandering Bee, and How it Made the LeConte Pear,” “The Turpentine -Industries.” All these are suggestive. Each letter bore some definite -relation to the development of the resources of the State. - -To Mr. Grady, more than to any other man, is due the development of the -truck gardens and watermelon farms of southern and southwest Georgia. -When he advised in the _Constitution_ the planting of watermelons for -shipment to the North, the proposition was hooted at by some of the -rival editors, but he “boomed” the business, as the phrase is, and -to-day the watermelon business is an established industry, and thousands -of farmers are making money during what would otherwise be a dull season -of the year. And so with hundreds of other things. His suggestions were -always practicable, though they were sometimes so unique as to invite -the criticism of the thoughtless, and they were always for the benefit -of others—for the benefit of the people. How few men, even though they -live to a ripe old age, leave behind them such a record of usefulness -and unselfish devotion as that of this man, who died before his prime! - - - VII. - -Mr. Grady’s editorial methods were as unique as all his other methods. -They can be described, but they cannot be explained. He had an -instinctive knowledge of news in its embryonic state; he seemed to know -just where and when a sensation or a startling piece of information -would develop itself, and he was always ready for it. Sometimes it -seemed to grow and develop under his hands, and his insight and -information were such that what appeared to be an ordinary news item -would suddenly become, under his manipulation and interpretation, of the -first importance. It was this faculty that enabled him to make the -_Constitution_ one of the leading journals of the country in its method -of gathering and treating the news. - -Mr. Grady was not as fond of the editorial page as might be supposed. -Editorials were very well in their way—capital in an emergency—admirable -when a nail was to be clinched, so to speak—but most important of all to -his mind was the news and the treatment of it. The whirl of events was -never too rapid for him. The most startling developments, the most -unexpected happenings, always found him ready to deal with them -instantly and in just the right way. - -He magnified the office of reporting, and he had a great fancy for it -himself. There are hundreds of instances where he voluntarily assumed -the duties of a reporter after he became managing editor. A case in -point is the work he did on the occasion of the Charleston earthquake. -The morning after that catastrophe he was on his way to Charleston. He -took a reporter with him, but he preferred to do most of the work. His -graphic descriptions of the disaster in all its phases—his picturesque -grouping of all the details—were the perfection of reporting, and were -copied all over the country. The reporter who accompanied Mr. Grady had -a wonderful tale to tell on his return. To the people of that desolate -town, the young Georgian seemed to carry light and hope. Hundreds of -citizens were encamped on the streets. Mr. Grady visited these camps, -and his sympathetic humor brought a smile to many a sad face. He went -from house to house, and from encampment to encampment, wrote two or -three columns of telegraphic matter on his knee, went to his room in the -hotel in the early hours of morning, fell on the bed with his clothes -on, and in a moment was sound asleep. The reporter never knew the amount -of work Mr. Grady had done until he saw it spread out in the columns of -the _Constitution_. Working at high-pressure there was hardly a limit to -the amount of copy Mr. Grady could produce in a given time, and it -sometimes happened that he dictated an editorial to his stenographer -while writing a news article. - -He did a good deal of his more leisurely newspaper work at home, with -his wife and children around him. He never wrote on a table or desk, but -used a lapboard or a pad, leaning back in his chair with his feet as -high as his head. His house was always a centre of attraction, and when -visitors came in Mrs. Grady used to tell them that they needn’t mind -Henry. The only thing that disturbed him on such occasions was when the -people in the room conversed in a tone so low that he failed to hear -what they were saying. When this happened he would look up from his -writing with a quick “What’s that?” This often happened in the editorial -rooms, and he would frequently write while taking part in a -conversation, never losing the thread of his article or of the talk. - -As I have said, he reserved his editorials for occasions or emergencies, -and it was then that his luminous style showed at its best. He employed -always the apt phrase; he was, in fact a phrase-builder. His gift of -expression was something marvelous, and there was something melodious -and fluent about his more deliberate editorials that suggested the -movement of verse. I was reading awhile ago his editorial appealing to -the people of Atlanta on the cold Christmas morning which has already -been alluded to in this sketch. It is short—not longer than the pencil -with which he wrote it, but there is that about it calculated to stir -the blood, even now. Above any other man I have ever known Mr. Grady -possessed the faculty of imparting his personal magnetism to cold type; -and even such a statement as this is an inadequate explanation of the -swift and powerful effect that his writings had on the public mind. - -He had a keen eye for what, in a general way, may be called climaxes. -Thus he was content to see the daily _Constitution_ run soberly and -sedately along during the week if it developed into a great paper on -Sunday. He did more editorial work for the Sunday paper than for any -other issue, and bent all his energies toward making an impression on -that day. There was nothing about the details of the paper that he did -not thoroughly understand. He knew more about the effects of type -combinations than the printers did; he knew as much about the business -department as the business manager; and he could secure more -advertisements in three hours than his advertising clerks could solicit -in a week. It used to be said of him that he lacked the business -faculty. I suppose the remark was based on the fact that, in the midst -of all the tremendous booms he stirred up, and the enterprises he -fostered, he remained comparatively poor. I think he purposely neglected -the opportunities for private gain that were offered him. There can be -no more doubt of his business qualification than there can be of the -fact that he neglected opportunities for private gain; but his business -faculties were given to the service of the public—witness his faultless -management of two of the greatest expositions ever held in the South. -Had he served his own interests one-half as earnestly as he served those -of the people, he would have been a millionaire. As it was, he died -comparatively poor. - -Mr. Grady took great pride in the _Weekly Constitution_, and that paper -stands to-day a monument to his business faculty and to his wonderful -methods of management. When Mr. Grady took hold of the weekly edition, -it had about seven thousand subscribers, and his partners thought that -the field would be covered when the list reached ten thousand. To-day -the list of subscribers is not far below two hundred thousand, and is -larger than that of the weekly edition of any other American newspaper. -Just how this result has been brought about it is impossible to say. His -methods were not mysterious, perhaps, but they did not lie on the -surface. The weekly editions of newspapers that have reached large -circulations depend on some specialty—as, for instance, the Detroit -_Free Press_ with the popular sketches of M. Quad, and the Toledo -_Blade_, with the rancorous, but still popular, letters of Petroleum V. -Nasby. The _Weekly Constitution_ has never depended on such things. It -has had, and still has, the letters of Bill Arp, of Sarge Wier, and of -Betsey Hamilton, homely humorists all, but Mr. Grady took great pains -never to magnify these things into specialties. Contributions that his -assistants thought would do for the weekly, Mr. Grady would cut out -relentlessly. - -It sometimes happened that subscribers would begin to fall off. Then Mr. -Grady would send for the manager of the weekly department, and proceed -to caucus with him, as the young men around the office termed the -conference. During the next few days there would be a great stir in the -weekly department, and in the course of a fortnight the list of -subscribers would begin to grow again. Once, when talking about the -weekly, Mr. Grady remarked in a jocular way that when subscriptions -began to flow in at the rate of two thousand a day, he wanted to die. -Singularly enough, when he was returning from Boston, having been seized -with the sickness that was so soon to carry him off, the business -manager telegraphed him that more than two thousand subscribers had been -received the day before. - -In the midst of the manifold duties and responsibilities that he had -cheerfully taken on his shoulders, there came to Mr. Grady an ardent -desire to aid in the reconciliation of the North and South, and to bring -about a better understanding between them. This desire rapidly grew into -a fixed and solemn purpose. His first opportunity was an invitation to -the banquet of the New England Society, which he accepted with great -hesitation. The wonderful effect of his speech at that banquet, and the -tremendous response of applause and approval that came to him from all -parts of the country, assured him that he had touched the key-note of -the situation, and he knew then that his real mission was that of -Pacificator. There was a change in him from that time forth, though it -was a change visible only to friendly and watchful eyes. He put away -something of his boyishness, and became, as it seemed, a trifle more -thoughtful. His purpose developed into a mission, and grew in his mind, -and shone in his eyes, and remained with him day and night. He made many -speeches after that, frequently in little out-of-the-way country places, -but all of them had a national significance and national bearing. He was -preaching the sentiments of harmony, fraternity, and good will to the -South as well as to the North. - -He prepared his Boston speech with great care, not merely to perfect its -form, but to make it worthy of the great cause he had at heart, and in -its preparation he departed widely from his usual methods of -composition. He sent his servants away, locked himself in Mrs. Grady’s -room, and would not tolerate interruptions from any source. His memory -was so prodigious that whatever he wrote was fixed in his mind, so that -when he had once written out a speech, he needed the manuscript no more. -Those who were with him say that he did not confine himself to the -printed text of the Boston speech, but made little excursions suggested -by his surroundings. Nevertheless, that speech, as it stands, reaches -the high-water mark of modern oratory. It was his last, as it was his -best, contribution to the higher politics of the country—the politics -that are above partisanry and self-seeking. - - - VIII. - -From Boston Mr. Grady came home to die. It was known that he was -critically ill, but his own life had been so hopeful and so bright, that -when the announcement of his death was made the people of Atlanta were -paralyzed, and the whole country shocked. It was a catastrophe so sudden -and so far-reaching that even sorrow stood dumb for a while. The effects -of such a calamity were greater than sorrow could conceive or affection -contemplate. Men who had only a passing acquaintance with him wept when -they heard of his death. Laboring men spoke of him with trembling lips -and tearful eyes, and working-women went to their tasks in the morning -crying bitterly. Never again will there come to Atlanta a calamity that -shall so profoundly touch the hearts of the people—that shall so -encompass the town with the spirit of mourning. - -I feel that I have been unable, in this hastily written sketch, to do -justice to the memory of this remarkable man. I have found it impossible -to describe his marvelous gifts, his wonderful versatility, or the -genius that set him apart from other men. The new generations that arise -will bring with them men who will be fitted to meet the emergencies that -may arise, men fitted to rule and capable of touching the popular heart; -but no generation will ever produce a genius so versatile, a nature so -rare and so sweet, a character so perfect and beautiful, a heart so -unselfish, and a mind of such power and vigor, as those that combined to -form the unique personality of Henry W. Grady. Never again, it is to be -feared, will the South have such a wise and devoted leader, or sectional -unity so brilliant a champion, or the country so ardent a lover, or -humanity so unselfish a friend, or the cause of the people so eloquent -an advocate. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - MEMORIAL OF HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - PREPARED BY MARION J. VERDERY, AT THE REQUEST OF THE NEW YORK SOUTHERN - SOCIETY. - - ------- - - -HENRY WOODFIN GRADY was born in Athens, Georgia, May 17, 1851, and died -in Atlanta, Georgia, December 23, 1889. - -His father, William S. Grady, was a native of North Carolina, and lived -in that State until about the year 1846, when he moved to Athens, -Georgia. He was a man of vigorous energy, sterling integrity, and great -independence of character. He was not literary by profession, but -devoted himself to mercantile pursuits, and accumulated what was in -those days considered a handsome fortune. Soon after moving to Georgia -to live, he married Miss Gartrell, a woman of rare strength of character -and deep religious nature. Their married life was sanctified by love of -God, and made happy by a consistent devotion to each other. - -They had three children, Henry Woodfin, William S., Jr., and Martha. -Henry Grady’s father was an early volunteer in the Confederate Army. He -organized and equipped a company, of which he was unanimously elected -captain, and went at once to Virginia, where he continued in active -service until he lost his life in one of the battles before Petersburg. -During his career as a soldier he bore himself with such conspicuous -valor, that he was accorded the rare distinction of promotion on the -field for gallantry. - -He fought in defense of his convictions, and fell “a martyr for -conscience’ sake.” - -His widow, bereft of her helpmate, faced alone the grave responsibility -of rearing her three young children. - -She led them in the ways of righteousness and truth, and always -sweetened their lives with the tenderness of indulgence, and the beauty -of devotion. Two of them still live to call her blessed. - -If memorials were meant only for the day and generation in which they -are written, who would venture upon the task of preparing one to Henry -W. Grady? His death occasioned such wide grief, and induced such -unprecedented demonstrations of sorrow, that nothing can be commensurate -with those impressive evidences of the unrivaled place he held in the -homage of his countrymen. - -No written memorial can indicate the strong hold he had upon the -Southern people, nor portray that peerless personality which gave him -his marvelous power among men. He had a matchless grace of soul that -made him an unfailing winner of hearts. His translucent mind pulsated -with the light of truth and beautified all thought. He grew flowers in -the garden of his heart and sweetened the world with the perfume of his -spirit. His endowments were so superior, and his purposes so unselfish, -that he seemed to combine all the best elements of genius, and live -under the influence of Divine inspiration. - -As both a writer and a speaker, he was phenomenally gifted. There was no -limit, either to the power or witchery of his pen. In his masterful -hand, it was as he chose, either the mighty instrument which Richelieu -described, or the light wand of a poet striking off the melody of song, -though not to the music of rhyme. In writing a political editorial, or -an article on the industrial development of the South, or anything else -to which he was moved by an inspiring sense of patriotism or conviction -of duty, he was logical, aggressive, and unanswerable. When building an -air-castle over the framework of his fancy, or when pouring out his soul -in some romantic dream, or when sounding the depth of human feeling by -an appeal for Charity’s sake, his command of language was as boundless -as the realm of thought, his ideas as beautiful as pictures in the sky, -and his pathos as deep as the well of tears. As an orator, he had no -equal in the South. He literally mastered his audience regardless of -their character, chaining them to the train of his thought and carrying -them captive to conviction. He moved upon their souls like the Divine -Spirit upon the waters, either lashing them into storms of enthusiasm, -or stilling them into the restful quiet of sympathy. He was like no -other man—he was a veritable magician. He could invest the most trifling -thing with proportions of importance not at all its own. He could -transform a homely thought into an expression of beauty beneath his -wondrous touch. From earliest childhood he possessed that indefinable -quality which compels hero-worship. - -In the untimely ending of his brilliant and useful career—an ending too -sudden to be called less than tragic—there came an affliction as broad -as the land he loved, and a grief well-nigh universal. Atlanta lamented -her foremost citizen; Georgia mourned her peerless son; the New South -agonized over the fall of her intrepid leader; and the heart of the -nation was athrob with sorrow when the announcement went forth—“Henry W. -Grady is dead.” - -The power of his personality, the vital force of his energy, and the -scope of his genius, had always precluded the thought that death could -touch him, and hence, when he fell a victim to the dread destroyer, -there was a terrible shock felt, and sorrow rolled like a tempest over -the souls of the Southern people. - -The swift race he ran, and the lofty heights he attained, harmonized -well with God’s munificent endowment of him. In every field that he -labored, his achievements were so wonderful, that a faithful account of -his career sounds more like the extravagance of eulogy, than like a -record of truth. Of his very early boyhood no account is essential to -the purposes of this sketch. It is unnecessary to give any details of -him prior to the time when he was a student in the University of -Georgia, at Athens. From that institution he was graduated in 1868. - -During his college days, he was a boy of bounding spirit, who, by an -inexplicable power over his associates, made for himself an unchallenged -leadership in all things with which he concerned himself. He was not a -close student. He never studied his text-books more than was necessary -to guarantee his rising from class to class, and to finally secure his -diploma. He had no fondness for any department of learning except -belles-lettres. In that branch of study he stood well, simply because it -was to his liking. The sciences, especially mathematics, were really -distasteful to him. He was an omnivorous reader. Every character of -Dickens was as familiar to him as a personal friend. That great novelist -was his favorite author. He read widely of history, and had a great -memory for dates and events. He reveled in poetry as a pastime, but -never found anything that delighted him more than “Lucile.” He learned -that love-song literally by heart. - -While at college his best intellectual efforts were made in his literary -and debating society. He aspired to be anniversarian of his society, and -his election seemed a foregone conclusion. He was, however, -over-confident of success in the last days of the canvass, and when the -election came off was beaten by one vote. This was his first -disappointment, and went hard with him. He could not bring himself to -understand how anything toward the accomplishment of which he had bent -his energy could fail. His defeat proved a blessing in disguise, for the -following year a place of higher honor, namely that of “commencement -orator” was instituted at the University, and to that he was elected by -acclamation. This was the year of his graduation, and the speech he made -was the sensation of commencement. His subject was “Castles in Air,” and -in the treatment of his poetic theme he reveled in that wonderful power -of word painting for which he afterwards became so famous. Even in those -early days, he wrote and spoke with a fluency of expression, and -brilliancy of fancy, that were incomparable. - -In all the relations of college life he was universally popular. He had -a real genius for putting himself _en rapport_ with all sorts and -conditions of men. His sympathy was quick-flowing and kind. Any sight or -story of suffering would touch his heart and make the tears come. His -generosity, like a great river, ran in ceaseless flow and broadening -course toward the wide ocean of humanity. He lived in the realization of -its being “more blessed to give than to receive.” He never stopped to -consider the worthiness of an object, but insisted that a man was -entitled to some form of selfishness, and said his was the -self-indulgence which he experienced in giving. - -There was an old woman in Athens, who was a typical professional beggar. -She wore out everybody’s charity except Grady’s. He never tired helping -her. One day he said, just after giving her some money, “I do hope old -Jane will not die as long as I live in Athens. If she does, my most -unfailing privilege of charity will be cut off.” A princely liberality -marked everything he did. His name never reduced the average of a -subscription list, but eight times out of ten it was down for the -largest amount. - -By his marked individuality of character, and evidences of genius, even -as a boy he impressed himself upon all those with whom he came in -contact. - -Immediately after his graduation at Athens, he went to the University of -Virginia, not so much with a determination to broaden his scholastic -attainments, as with the idea that in that famous institution he would -be inspired to a higher cultivation of his inborn eloquence. From the -day he entered the University of Virginia, he had only one ambition, and -that was to be “society orator.” He made such a profound impression in -the Washington Society that his right to the honor he craved was -scarcely disputed. In the public debates, he swept all competitors -before him. About two weeks before the Society’s election of its orator, -he had routed every other aspirant from the field, and it seemed he -would be unanimously chosen. However, when election day came, that same -over-confidence which cost him defeat at Athens lost him victory at -Charlottesville. This disappointment nearly broke his heart. He came -back home crestfallen and dispirited, and but for the wonderful buoyancy -of his nature, he might have succumbed permanently to the severe blow -which had been struck at his youthful aspirations and hopes. - -It was not long after his return to Georgia before he determined to make -journalism his life-work. At once he began writing newspaper letters on -all sorts of subjects, trusting to his genius to give interest to purely -fanciful topics, which had not the slightest flavor of news. Having thus -felt his way out into the field of his adoption, he soon went regularly -into newspaper business. - -Just about this time, and before he had attained his majority, he -married Miss Julia King, of Athens. She was the first sweetheart of his -boyhood, and kept that hallowed place always. Her beauty and grace of -person, united to her charms of character, made her the queen of his -life and the idol of his love. She, with two children (a boy and girl), -survive him. - -In his domestic life he was tender and indulgent to his family, and -generously hospitable to his friends. The very best side of him was -always turned toward his hearthstone, and there he dispensed the richest -treasures of his soul. His home was his castle, and in it his friends -were always made happy by the benediction of his welcome. - -Soon after marriage he moved to Rome, Georgia, and established himself -in the joint ownership, and editorial management of the Rome -_Commercial_, which paper, instead of prospering, was soon enveloped in -bankruptcy, costing Mr. Grady many thousands of dollars. Shortly after -this he moved to Atlanta, and formed a partnership with Col. Robert -Alliston in founding the Atlanta _Herald_. The conduct of that paper was -a revelation in Georgia journalism. Grady and Alliston combined probably -more genius than any two men who have ever owned a paper together in -that State. They made the columns of the _Herald_ luminous. They also -put into it more push and enterprise than had ever been known in that -section. They sacrificed everything to daily triumph, regardless of cost -or consequences. They went so far as to charter an engine in order that -they might put their morning edition in Macon, Georgia, by breakfast -time. This was a feat never before dreamed of in Georgia. They -accomplished the unprecedented undertaking, but in doing that, and other -things of unwarranted extravagance, it was not long before the Atlanta -_Herald_ went “lock, stock and barrel,” into the wide-open arms of the -Sheriff. In this venture Mr. Grady not only sunk all of his personal -fortune which remained after the Rome wreck, but involved himself -considerably in debt. Thus at twenty-three years of age, he was a victim -to disappointment in the only two pronounced ambitions he had ever had, -and was depressed by the utter failure of the only two business -enterprises in which he had ever engaged. - -He made another effort, and started a weekly paper called the _Atlanta -Capital_. This, however, soon went the sorrowing way of his other hopes. - -While those failures and disappointments seemed cruel set-backs in that -day, looked at now they may be counted to have been no more than -healthful discipline to him. They served to stir his spirit the deeper, -and fill him with nobler resolve. Bravely he trampled misfortune under -his feet, and climbed to the high place of honor and usefulness for -which he was destined. - -In the day of his extreme poverty, instead of despairing he took on new -strength and courage that equipped him well for future triumphs. When it -is remembered that his vast accomplishments and national reputation were -compassed within the next fourteen years, the record is simply amazing. - -Fourteen years ago, Henry W. Grady stood in Atlanta, Georgia, bankrupt -and almost broken-hearted. Everything behind him was blotted by failure, -and nothing ahead of him was lighted with promise. In that trying day he -borrowed fifty dollars, and giving twenty of it to his faithful wife, -took the balance and determined to invest it in traveling as far as it -would carry him from the scene of his discouragements. He had one offer -then open to him, namely, the editorial management of the Wilmington -(North Carolina) _Star_, at a salary of twelve hundred dollars a year. -It was the only thing that seemed a guarantee against actual want, and -he had about determined to accept it, when yielding to the influence of -pure presentiment, instead of buying a ticket to Wilmington with his -thirty dollars, he bought one to New York City. - -He landed here with three dollars and seventy-five cents, and registered -at the Astor House in order to be in easy reach of Newspaper Row. - -He used to tell the story of his experience on that occasion in this -way: “After forcing down my unrelished breakfast on the morning of my -arrival in New York, I went out on the sidewalk in front of the Astor -House, and gave a bootblack twenty-five cents, one-fifth of which was to -pay for shining my shoes, and the balance was a fee for the privilege of -talking to him. I felt that I would die if I did not talk to somebody. -Having stimulated myself at that doubtful fountain of sympathy, I went -across to the _Herald_ office, and the managing editor was good enough -to admit me to his sanctum. It happened that just at that time several -of the Southern States were holding constitutional conventions. The -_Herald_ manager asked me if I knew anything about politics, I replied -that I knew very little about anything else. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘sit at -this desk and write me an article on State conventions in the South.’ -With these words he tossed me a pad and left me alone in the room. When -my task-master returned, I had finished the article and was leaning back -in the chair with my feet up on the desk. ‘Why, Mr. Grady, what is the -matter?’ asked the managing editor. ‘Nothing,’ I replied, ‘except that I -am through.’ ‘Very well, leave your copy on the desk, and if it amounts -to anything I will let you hear from me. Where are you stopping?’ ‘I am -at the Astor House.’ Early the next morning before getting out of bed, I -rang for a hall-boy and ordered the _Herald_. I actually had not -strength to get up and dress myself, until I could see whether or not my -article had been used. I opened the _Herald_ with a trembling hand, and -when I saw that ‘State Conventions in the South’ was on the editorial -page, I fell back on the bed, buried my face in the pillow, and cried -like a child. When I went back to the _Herald_ office that day the -managing editor received me cordially and said, ‘You can go back to -Georgia, Mr. Grady, and consider yourself in the employ of the -_Herald_.’” - -Almost immediately after his return to Atlanta, he was tendered, and -gladly accepted, a position on the editorial staff of the Atlanta -_Constitution_. He worked vigorously for the New York _Herald_ for five -years as its Southern correspondent, and in that time did some of the -most brilliant work that has ever been done for that excellent journal. - -Notable among his achievements were the graphic reports he made of the -South Carolina riots in 1876. But the special work which gave him -greatest fame was his exposure of the election frauds in Florida that -same year. He secured the memorable confession of Dennis and his -associates, and _his_ report of it to the _Herald_ was exclusive. For -that piece of work alone, Mr. Bennett paid him a thousand dollars. His -attachment to the editorial staff of the Atlanta _Constitution_ gave him -an opportunity to impress himself upon the people of Georgia, which he -did with great rapidity and power. - -In 1879, he came to New York, partly for recreation and partly for the -purpose of writing a series of topical letters from Gotham. While here -he was introduced by Governor John B. Gordon to Cyrus W. Field. Mr. -Field was instantly impressed by him, and liked him so much that he -loaned him twenty thousand dollars with which to buy one-fourth interest -in the Atlanta _Constitution_. He made the purchase promptly, and that -for which he paid twenty thousand dollars in 1880, was at the time of -his death in 1889 worth at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. -The enormous increase in the value of the _Constitution_ during his -identification with it shows nothing more plainly than the value of his -marvelous work in its service. - -Securing an interest in the Atlanta _Constitution_ may be said to have -fixed his noble destiny. It emancipated his genius from the bondage of -poverty, quickened his sensitive spirit with a new consciousness of -power for good, and inspired him to untiring service in the widest -fields of usefulness. He saw the hand of God in the favor that had -blessed him, and in acknowledgment of the Divine providence dedicated -his life to the cause of truth, and the uplifting of humanity. Atlanta -was his home altar, and there he poured out the best libations of his -heart. That thriving city to-day has no municipal advantage, no public -improvement, no educational institution, no industrial enterprise which -does not either owe its beginning to his readiness of suggestion, or its -mature development to his sustaining influence. Its streets are paved -with his energy and devotion, its houses are built in the comeliness and -fashion that he inspired, and its vast business interests are -established in the prosperity and strength that he foretold. - -Georgia was the pride of his life, and for the increase of her peace and -prosperity, the deepening brotherhood of her people, the development of -her vast mineral resources, and the enrichment of her varied harvests, -he wrote, and talked, and prayed. - -The whole South was to him sacred ground, made so both by the heroic -death of his father and the precious birth of his children. By the -former, he felt all the memories and traditions of the Old South to have -been sanctified, and by the latter he felt all the hopes and aspirations -of the New South to have been beautified. And thus with a personality -altogether unique, and a genius thoroughly rare, he stood like a magical -link between the past and the future. Turning toward the days that were -gone, he sealed them with a holy kiss; and then looking toward the time -that had not yet come, he conjured it with a voice of prophecy. - -In politics he was an undeniable leader, and yet never held office. High -places were pressed for his acceptance times without number, but he -always resolutely put them away from him, insisting that office had no -charm for him. He could have gone to Congress, as representative from -the State at large, if he would only have consented to serve. His name -was repeatedly suggested for the governorship of Georgia, but he -invariably suppressed the idea promptly, urging his friends to leave him -at peace in his private station. - -In spite of his indifference to all political preferment, it is -universally believed in Georgia, that had he lived, he would have soon -been sent to the United States Senate. Although he had no love of office -for himself, he was the incomparable Warwick of his day. He was almost -an absolute dictator in Georgia politics. No man cared to stand for -election to any place, high or low, unless he felt Grady was with him. -He certainly was the most powerful factor in the election of two -Governors, and practically gave more than one United States Senator his -seat. His power extended all over the State. - -Such a man could not be held within the narrow limits of local -reputation. It mattered not how far he traveled from home, he made -himself quickly known by the power of his impressive individuality, or -by some splendid exhibition of his genius. - -By two speeches, one made at a banquet of the New England Society in New -York City, and the other at a State fair at Dallas, Texas, he achieved -for himself a reputation which spanned the continent. The most -magnificent effort of eloquence which he ever made was the soul-stirring -speech delivered in Boston on “The Race Problem,” just ten days before -he died. These three speeches were enough to confirm and perpetuate his -fame as a surpassing orator. - -It is impossible to give any adequate idea of Henry Grady’s largeness of -heart, nobility of soul, and brilliancy of mind. Those three elements -combined in royal abundance to make his princely nature. - -When Georgia’s great triumvirate died, their spirits seemed to linger on -earth in the being of Henry W. Grady. While he lived he perpetuated the -political sagacity of Alexander H. Stephens, the consummate genius of -Robert Toombs, and the impassioned eloquence of Benjamin H. Hill. - -True greatness is immortal. Real patriotic purposes are never swallowed -up in death. Good works well begun live long after their praiseworthy -originators have ascended in glory. If there is any truth in these -reflections, they are precious and priceless to all who mourn the -untimely taking off of Henry Woodfin Grady. - -His sudden death struck grief to all true-hearted American citizens. In -him was combined such breadth of usefulness and brilliancy of genius, -that he illumined the critical period of American history in which he -lived, and set the firmament of our national glory with many a new and -shining star of promise. This century, though old in its last quarter, -has given birth to but one Henry Woodfin Grady, and it will close its -eyes long before his second self is seen. - -A hundred years hence, when sweet charity is stemming the tides of -suffering in the world, if truth is not dumb, she will say: This blessed -work is an echo from Henry Grady’s life on earth. A hundred years hence, -when friendship is building high her altars of self-sacrifice in the -name of love and loyalty, if truth is not dumb, she will say: This -beautiful service is going on as a perpetual memorial to Henry Grady’s -life on earth. A hundred years hence, when all the South shall have been -enriched by the development of her vast natural resources, if truth is -not dumb, she will say: This is the legitimate fruit of Henry Grady’s -labor of love while he lived on earth. A hundred years hence, when -patriotism shall have beaten down all sectional and partisan prejudice, -and the burning problems that press upon our national heart to-day shall -have been “solved in patience and fairness,” if truth is not dumb, she -will say: This is the glorious verification of Henry Grady’s prophetic -utterances while on earth. And when in God’s own appointed time this -nation shall lead all other nations of the earth in the triumphal march -of prosperous peoples under perfect governments, if truth is not dumb, -she will say: This is the free, full and complete answer to Henry -Grady’s impassioned prayer while on earth. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - SPEECHES. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE NEW SOUTH. - - ------- - -ON THE 21ST OF DECEMBER, 1886, MR. GRADY, IN RESPONSE TO AN URGENT - INVITATION, DELIVERED THE FOLLOWING ADDRESS AT THE BANQUET OF THE - NEW ENGLAND CLUB, NEW YORK: - - -“There was a South of slavery and secession—that South is dead. There is -a South of union and freedom—that South, thank God, is living, -breathing, growing every hour.” These words, delivered from the immortal -lips of Benjamin H. Hill, at Tammany Hall, in 1866, true then and truer -now, I shall make my text to-night. - -Mr. President and Gentlemen: Let me express to you my appreciation of -the kindness by which I am permitted to address you. I make this abrupt -acknowledgment advisedly, for I feel that if, when I raise my provincial -voice in this ancient and august presence, I could find courage for no -more than the opening sentence, it would be well if in that sentence I -had met in a rough sense my obligation as a guest, and had perished, so -to speak, with courtesy on my lips and grace in my heart. Permitted, -through your kindness, to catch my second wind, let me say that I -appreciate the significance of being the first Southerner to speak at -this board, which bears the substance, if it surpasses the semblance, of -original New England hospitality—and honors the sentiment that in turn -honors you, but in which my personality is lost, and the compliment to -my people made plain. - -I bespeak the utmost stretch of your courtesy to-night. I am not -troubled about those from whom I come. You remember the man whose wife -sent him to a neighbor with a pitcher of milk, and who, tripping on the -top step, fell with such casual interruptions as the landings afforded -into the basement, and, while picking himself up, had the pleasure of -hearing his wife call out: “John, did you break the pitcher?” - -“No, I didn’t,” said John, “but I’ll be dinged if I don’t.” - -So, while those who call me from behind may inspire me with energy, if -not with courage, I ask an indulgent hearing from you. I beg that you -will bring your full faith in American fairness and frankness to -judgment upon what I shall say. There was an old preacher once who told -some boys of the Bible lesson he was going to read in the morning. The -boys, finding the place, glued together the connecting pages. The next -morning he read on the bottom of one page, “When Noah was one hundred -and twenty years old he took unto himself a wife, who was”—then turning -the page—“140 cubits long—40 cubits wide, built of gopher wood—and -covered with pitch inside and out.” He was naturally puzzled at this. He -read it again, verified it, and then said: “My friends, this is the -first time I ever met this in the Bible, but I accept this as an -evidence of the assertion that we are fearfully and wonderfully made.” -If I could get you to hold such faith to-night I could proceed -cheerfully to the task I otherwise approach with a sense of -consecration. - -Pardon me one word, Mr. President, spoken for the sole purpose of -getting into the volumes that go out annually freighted with the rich -eloquence of your speakers—the fact that the Cavalier as well as the -Puritan was on the continent in its early days, and that he was “up and -able to be about.” I have read your books carefully and I find no -mention of that fact, which seems to me an important one for preserving -a sort of historical equilibrium if for nothing else. - -Let me remind you that the Virginia Cavalier first challenged France on -the continent—that Cavalier, John Smith, gave New England its very name, -and was so pleased with the job that he has been handing his own name -around ever since—and that while Myles Standish was cutting off men’s -ears for courting a girl without her parents’ consent, and forbade men -to kiss their wives on Sunday, the Cavalier was courting everything in -sight, and that the Almighty had vouchsafed great increase to the -Cavalier colonies, the huts in the wilderness being as full as the nests -in the woods. - -But having incorporated the Cavalier as a fact in your charming little -books, I shall let him work out his own salvation, as he has always -done, with engaging gallantry, and we will hold no controversy as to his -merits. Why should we? Neither Puritan nor Cavalier long survived as -such. The virtues and good traditions of both happily still live for the -inspiration of their sons and the saving of the old fashion. But both -Puritan and Cavalier were lost in the storm of the first Revolution, and -the American citizen, supplanting both and stronger than either, took -possession of the republic bought by their common blood and fashioned to -wisdom, and charged himself with teaching men government and -establishing the voice of the people as the voice of God. - -My friends, Dr. Talmage has told you that the typical American has yet -to come. Let me tell you that he has already come. Great types, like -valuable plants, are slow to flower and fruit. But from the union of -these colonists, Puritans and Cavaliers, from the straightening of their -purposes and the crossing of their blood, slow perfecting through a -century, came he who stands as the first typical American, the first who -comprehended within himself all the strength and gentleness, all the -majesty and grace of this republic—Abraham Lincoln. He was the sum of -Puritan and Cavalier, for in his ardent nature were fused the virtues of -both, and in the depths of his great soul the faults of both were lost. -He was greater than Puritan, greater than Cavalier, in that he was -American, and that in his honest form were first gathered the vast and -thrilling forces of his ideal government—charging it with such -tremendous meaning and elevating it above human suffering that -martyrdom, though infamously aimed, came as a fitting crown to a life -consecrated from the cradle to human liberty. Let us, each cherishing -the traditions and honoring his fathers, build with reverent hands to -the type of this simple but sublime life, in which all types are -honored, and in our common glory as Americans there will be plenty and -to spare for your forefathers and for mine. - -Dr. Talmage has drawn for you, with a master’s hand, the picture of your -returning armies. He has told you how, in the pomp and circumstance of -war, they came back to you, marching with proud and victorious tread, -reading their glory in a nation’s eyes! Will you bear with me while I -tell you of another army that sought its home at the close of the late -war—an army that marched home in defeat and not in victory—in pathos and -not in splendor, but in glory that equaled yours, and to hearts as -loving as ever welcomed heroes home! Let me picture to you the footsore -Confederate soldier, as buttoning up in his faded gray jacket the parole -which was to bear testimony to his children of his fidelity and faith, -he turned his face southward from Appomattox in April, 1865. Think of -him as ragged, half-starved, heavy-hearted, enfeebled by want and -wounds, having fought to exhaustion, he surrenders his gun, wrings the -hands of his comrades in silence, and lifting his tear-stained and -pallid face for the last time to the graves that dot old Virginia hills, -pulls his gray cap over his brow and begins the slow and painful -journey. What does he find—let me ask you who went to your homes eager -to find, in the welcome you had justly earned, full payment for four -years’ sacrifice—what does he find when, having followed the -battle-stained cross against overwhelming odds, dreading death not half -so much as surrender, he reaches the home he left so prosperous and -beautiful? He finds his house in ruins, his farm devastated, his slaves -free, his stock killed, his barns empty, his trade destroyed, his money -worthless, his social system, feudal in its magnificence, swept away; -his people without law or legal status; his comrades slain, and the -burdens of others heavy on his shoulders. Crushed by defeat, his very -traditions are gone. Without money, credit, employment, material, or -training; and beside all this, confronted with the gravest problem that -ever met human intelligence—the establishing of a status for the vast -body of his liberated slaves. - -What does he do—this hero in gray with a heart of gold? Does he sit down -in sullenness and despair? Not for a day. Surely God, who had stripped -him of his prosperity, inspired him in his adversity. As ruin was never -before so overwhelming, never was restoration swifter. The soldier -stepped from the trenches into the furrow; horses that had charged -Federal guns marched before the plow, and fields that ran red with human -blood in April were green with the harvest in June; women reared in -luxury cut up their dresses and made breeches for their husbands, and, -with a patience and heroism that fit women always as a garment, gave -their hands to work. There was little bitterness in all this. -Cheerfulness and frankness prevailed. “Bill Arp” struck the key-note -when he said: “Well, I killed as many of them as they did of me, and now -I’m going to work.” Of the soldier returning home after defeat and -roasting some corn on the roadside, who made the remark to his comrades: -“You may leave the South if you want to, but I am going to Sandersville, -kiss my wife and raise a crop, and if the Yankees fool with me any more, -I’ll whip ’em again.” I want to say to General Sherman, who is -considered an able man in our parts, though some people think he is a -kind of careless man about fire, that from the ashes he left us in 1864 -we have raised a brave and beautiful city; that somehow or other we have -caught the sunshine in the bricks and mortar of our homes, and have -builded therein not one ignoble prejudice or memory. - -But what is the sum of our work? We have found out that in the summing -up the free negro counts more than he did as a slave. We have planted -the schoolhouse on the hilltop and made it free to white and black. We -have sowed towns and cities in the place of theories, and put business -above politics. We have challenged your spinners in Massachusetts and -your iron-makers in Pennsylvania. We have learned that the $400,000,000 -annually received from our cotton crop will make us rich when the -supplies that make it are home-raised. We have reduced the commercial -rate of interest from 24 to 6 per cent., and are floating 4 per cent. -bonds. We have learned that one northern immigrant is worth fifty -foreigners; and have smoothed the path to southward, wiped out the place -where Mason and Dixon’s line used to be, and hung out latchstring to you -and yours. We have reached the point that marks perfect harmony in every -household, when the husband confesses that the pies which his wife cooks -are as good as those his mother used to bake; and we admit that the sun -shines as brightly and the moon as softly as it did before the war. We -have established thrift in city and country. We have fallen in love with -work. We have restored comfort to homes from which culture and elegance -never departed. We have let economy take root and spread among us as -rank as the crabgrass which sprung from Sherman’s cavalry camps, until -we are ready to lay odds on the Georgia Yankee as he manufactures relics -of the battle-field in a one-story shanty and squeezes pure olive oil -out of his cotton seed, against any down-easter that ever swapped wooden -nutmegs for flannel sausage in the valleys of Vermont. Above all, we -know that we have achieved in these “piping times of peace” a fuller -independence for the South than that which our fathers sought to win in -the forum by their eloquence or compel in the field by their swords. - -It is a rare privilege, sir, to have had part, however humble, in this -work. Never was nobler duty confided to human hands than the uplifting -and upbuilding of the prostrate and bleeding South—misguided, perhaps, -but beautiful in her suffering, and honest, brave and generous always. -In the record of her social, industrial and political illustration we -await with confidence the verdict of the world. - -But what of the negro? Have we solved the problem he presents or -progressed in honor and equity toward solution? Let the record speak to -the point. No section shows a more prosperous laboring population than -the negroes of the South, none in fuller sympathy with the employing and -land-owning class. He shares our school fund, has the fullest protection -of our laws and the friendship of our people. Self-interest, as well as -honor, demand that he should have this. Our future, our very existence -depend upon our working out this problem in full and exact justice. We -understand that when Lincoln signed the emancipation proclamation, your -victory was assured, for he then committed you to the cause of human -liberty, against which the arms of man cannot prevail—while those of our -statesmen who trusted to make slavery the corner-stone of the -Confederacy doomed us to defeat as far as they could, committing us to a -cause that reason could not defend or the sword maintain in sight of -advancing civilization. - -Had Mr. Toombs said, which he did not say, “that he would call the roll -of his slaves at the foot of Bunker Hill,” he would have been foolish, -for he might have known that whenever slavery became entangled in war it -must perish, and that the chattel in human flesh ended forever in New -England when your fathers—not to be blamed for parting with what didn’t -pay—sold their slaves to our fathers—not to be praised for knowing a -paying thing when they saw it. The relations of the southern people with -the negro are close and cordial. We remember with what fidelity for four -years he guarded our defenseless women and children, whose husbands and -fathers were fighting against his freedom. To his eternal credit be it -said that whenever he struck a blow for his own liberty he fought in -open battle, and when at last he raised his black and humble hands that -the shackles might be struck off, those hands were innocent of wrong -against his helpless charges, and worthy to be taken in loving grasp by -every man who honors loyalty and devotion. Ruffians have maltreated him, -rascals have misled him, philanthropists established a bank for him, but -the South, with the North, protests against injustice to this simple and -sincere people. To liberty and enfranchisement is as far as law can -carry the negro. The rest must be left to conscience and common sense. -It must be left to those among whom his lot is cast, with whom he is -indissolubly connected, and whose prosperity depends upon their -possessing his intelligent sympathy and confidence. Faith has been kept -with him, in spite of calumnious assertions to the contrary by those who -assume to speak for us or by frank opponents. Faith will be kept with -him in the future, if the South holds her reason and integrity. - -But have we kept faith with you? In the fullest sense, yes. When Lee -surrendered—I don’t say when Johnson surrendered, because I understand -he still alludes to the time when he met General Sherman last as the -time when he determined to abandon any further prosecution of the -struggle—when Lee surrendered, I say, and Johnson quit, the South -became, and has since been, loyal to this Union. We fought hard enough -to know that we were whipped, and in perfect frankness accept as final -the arbitrament of the sword to which we had appealed. The South found -her jewel in the toad’s head of defeat. The shackles that had held her -in narrow limitations fell forever when the shackles of the negro slave -were broken. Under the old régime the negroes were slaves to the South; -the South was a slave to the system. The old plantation, with its simple -police regulations and feudal habit, was the only type possible under -slavery. Thus was gathered in the hands of a splendid and chivalric -oligarchy the substance that should have been diffused among the people, -as the rich blood, under certain artificial conditions, is gathered at -the heart, filling that with affluent rapture but leaving the body chill -and colorless. - -The old South rested everything on slavery and agriculture, unconscious -that these could neither give nor maintain healthy growth. The new South -presents a perfect democracy, the oligarchs leading in the popular -movement—a social system compact and closely knitted, less splendid on -the surface, but stronger at the core—a hundred farms for every -plantation, fifty homes for every palace—and a diversified industry that -meets the complex need of this complex age. - -The new South is enamored of her new work. Her soul is stirred with the -breath of a new life. The light of a grander day is falling fair on her -face. She is thrilling with the consciousness of growing power and -prosperity. As she stands upright, full-statured and equal among the -people of the earth, breathing the keen air and looking out upon the -expanded horizon, she understands that her emancipation came because -through the inscrutable wisdom of God her honest purpose was crossed, -and her brave armies were beaten. - -This is said in no spirit of time-serving or apology. The South has -nothing for which to apologize. She believes that the late struggle -between the States was war and not rebellion; revolution and not -conspiracy, and that her convictions were as honest as yours. I should -be unjust to the dauntless spirit of the South and to my own convictions -if I did not make this plain in this presence. The South has nothing to -take back. In my native town of Athens is a monument that crowns its -central hill—a plain, white shaft. Deep cut into its shining side is a -name dear to me above the names of men—that of a brave and simple man -who died in brave and simple faith. Not for all the glories of New -England, from Plymouth Rock all the way, would I exchange the heritage -he left me in his soldier’s death. To the foot of that I shall send my -children’s children to reverence him who ennobled their name with his -heroic blood. But, sir, speaking from the shadow of that memory which I -honor as I do nothing else on earth, I say that the cause in which he -suffered and for which he gave his life was adjudged by higher and -fuller wisdom than his or mine, and I am glad that the omniscient God -held the balance of battle in His Almighty hand and that human slavery -was swept forever from American soil, the American Union was saved from -the wreck of war. - -This message, Mr. President, comes to you from consecrated ground. Every -foot of soil about the city in which I live is as sacred as a -battle-ground of the republic. Every hill that invests it is hallowed to -you by the blood of your brothers who died for your victory, and doubly -hallowed to us by the blow of those who died hopeless, but undaunted, in -defeat—sacred soil to all of us—rich with memories that make us purer -and stronger and better—silent but staunch witnesses in its red -desolation of the matchless valor of American hearts and the deathless -glory of American arms—speaking an eloquent witness in its white peace -and prosperity to the indissoluble union of American States and the -imperishable brotherhood of the American people. - -Now, what answer has New England to this message? Will she permit the -prejudice of war to remain in the hearts of the conquerors, when it has -died in the hearts of the conquered? Will she transmit this prejudice to -the next generation, that in their hearts which never felt the generous -ardor of conflict it may perpetuate itself? Will she withhold, save in -strained courtesy, the hand which straight from his soldier’s heart -Grant offered to Lee at Appomattox? Will she make the vision of a -restored and happy people, which gathered above the couch of your dying -captain, filling his heart with grace; touching his lips with praise, -and glorifying his path to the grave—will she make this vision on which -the last sigh of his expiring soul breathed a benediction, a cheat and -delusion? If she does, the South, never abject in asking for -comradeship, must accept with dignity its refusal; but if she does not -refuse to accept in frankness and sincerity this message of good will -and friendship, then will the prophecy of Webster, delivered in this -very society forty years ago amid tremendous applause, become true, be -verified in its fullest sense, when he said: “Standing hand to hand and -clasping hands, we should remain united as we have been for sixty years, -citizens of the same country, members of the same government, united, -all united now and united forever.” There have been difficulties, -contentions, and controversies, but I tell you that in my judgment, - - “Those opened eyes, - Which like the meteors of a troubled heaven, - All of one nature, of one substance bred, - Did lately meet in th’ intestine shock, - Shall now, in mutual well beseeming ranks, - March all one way.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE SOUTH AND HER PROBLEMS. - - ------- - -AT THE DALLAS, TEXAS, STATE FAIR, ON THE 26TH OF OCTOBER, 1887, MR. -GRADY WAS THE ORATOR OF THE DAY. HE SAID: - - - “Who saves his country, saves all things, and all things saved - will bless him. Who lets his country die, lets all things die, - and all things dying curse him.” - - -These words are graven on the statue of Benjamin H. Hill in the city of -Atlanta, and in their spirit I shall speak to you to-day. - -Mr. President and Fellow-Citizens: I salute the first city of the -grandest State of the greatest government on this earth. In paying -earnest compliment to this thriving city, and this generous multitude, I -need not cumber speech with argument or statistics. It is enough to say -that my friends and myself make obeisance this morning to the chief -metropolis of the State of Texas. If it but holds this pre-eminence—and -who can doubt in this auspicious presence that it will—the uprising -tides of Texas’s prosperity will carry it to glories unspeakable. For I -say in soberness, the future of this marvelous and amazing empire, that -gives broader and deeper significance to statehood by accepting its -modest naming, the mind of man can neither measure nor comprehend. - -I shall be pardoned for resisting the inspiration of this presence and -adhering to-day to blunt and rigorous speech—for there are times when -fine words are paltry, and this seems to me to be such a time. So I -shall turn away from the thunders of the political battle upon which -every American hangs intent, and repress the ardor that at this time -rises in every American heart—for there are issues that strike deeper -than any political theory has reached, and conditions of which -partisanry has taken, and can take, but little account. Let me, -therefore, with studied plainness, and with such precision as is -possible—in a spirit of fraternity that is broader than party -limitations, and deeper than political motive—discuss with you certain -problems upon the wise and prompt solution of which depends the glory -and prosperity of the South. - -But why—for let us make our way slowly—why “the South.” In an -indivisible union—in a republic against the integrity of which sword -shall never be drawn or mortal hand uplifted, and in which the rich -blood gathering at the common heart is sent throbbing into every part of -the body politic—why is one section held separated from the rest in -alien consideration? We can understand why this should be so in a city -that has a community of local interests; or in a State still clothed in -that sovereignty of which the debates of peace and the storm of war has -not stripped her. But why should a number of States, stretching from -Richmond to Galveston, bound together by no local interests, held in no -autonomy, be thus combined and drawn to a common center? That man would -be absurd who declaimed in Buffalo against the wrongs of the Middle -States, or who demanded in Chicago a convention for the West to consider -the needs of that section. If then it be provincialism that holds the -South together, let us outgrow it; if it be sectionalism, let us root it -out of our hearts; but if it be something deeper than these and -essential to our system, let us declare it with frankness, consider it -with respect, defend it with firmness, and in dignity abide its -consequence. What is it that holds the southern States—though true in -thought and deed to the Union—so closely bound in sympathy to-day? For a -century these States championed a governmental theory—but that, having -triumphed in every forum, fell at last by the sword. They maintained an -institution—but that, having been administered in the fullest wisdom of -man, fell at last in the higher wisdom of God. They fought a war—but the -prejudices of that war have died, its sympathies have broadened, and its -memories are already the priceless treasure of the republic that is -cemented forever with its blood. They looked out together upon the ashes -of their homes and the desolation of their fields—but out of pitiful -resource they have fashioned their homes anew, and plenty rides on the -springing harvests. In all the past there is nothing to draw them into -essential or lasting alliance—nothing in all that heroic record that -cannot be rendered unfearing from provincial hands into the keeping of -American history. - -But the future holds a problem, in solving which the South must stand -alone; in dealing with which, she must come closer together than -ambition or despair have driven her, and on the outcome of which her -very existence depends. This problem is to carry within her body politic -two separate races, and nearly equal in numbers. She must carry these -races in peace—for discord means ruin. She must carry them -separately—for assimilation means debasement. She must carry them in -equal justice—for to this she is pledged in honor and in gratitude. She -must carry them even unto the end, for in human probability she will -never be quit of either. - -This burden no other people bears to-day—on none hath it ever rested. -Without precedent or companionship, the South must bear this problem, -the awful responsibility of which should win the sympathy of all human -kind, and the protecting watchfulness of God—alone, even unto the end. -Set by this problem apart from all other peoples of the earth, and her -unique position emphasized rather than relieved, as I shall show -hereafter, by her material conditions, it is not only fit but it is -essential that she should hold her brotherhood unimpaired, quicken her -sympathies, and in the light or in the shadows of this surpassing -problem work out her own salvation in the fear of God—but of God alone. - -What shall the South do to be saved? Through what paths shall she reach -the end? Through what travail, or what splendors, shall she give to the -Union this section, its wealth garnered, its resources utilized, and its -rehabilitation complete—and restore to the world this problem solved in -such justice as the finite mind can measure, or finite hands administer? - -In dealing with this I shall dwell on two points. - -First, the duty of the South in its relation to the race problem. - -Second, the duty of the South in relation to its no less unique and -important industrial problem. - -I approach this discussion with a sense of consecration. I beg your -patient and cordial sympathy. And I invoke the Almighty God, that having -showered on this people His fullest riches has put their hands to this -task, that He will draw near unto us, as He drew near to troubled -Israel, and lead us in the ways of honor and uprightness, even through a -pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night. - -What of the negro? This of him. I want no better friend than the black -boy who was raised by my side, and who is now trudging patiently with -downcast eyes and shambling figure through his lowly way in life. I want -no sweeter music than the crooning of my old “mammy,” now dead and gone -to rest, as I heard it when she held me in her loving arms, and bending -her old black face above me stole the cares from my brain, and led me -smiling into sleep. I want no truer soul than that which moved the -trusty slave, who for four years while my father fought with the armies -that barred his freedom, slept every night at my mother’s chamber door, -holding her and her children as safe as if her husband stood guard, and -ready to lay down his humble life on her threshold. History has no -parallel to the faith kept by the negro in the South during the war. -Often five hundred negroes to a single white man, and yet through these -dusky throngs the women and children walked in safety, and the -unprotected homes rested in peace. Unmarshaled, the black battalions -moved patiently to the fields in the morning to feed the armies their -idleness would have starved, and at night gathered anxiously at the big -house to “hear the news from marster,” though conscious that his victory -made their chains enduring. Everywhere humble and kindly; the bodyguard -of the helpless; the rough companion of the little ones; the observant -friend; the silent sentry in his lowly cabin; the shrewd counselor. And -when the dead came home, a mourner at the open grave. A thousand torches -would have disbanded every Southern army, but not one was lighted. When -the master going to a war in which slavery was involved said to his -slave, “I leave my home and loved ones in your charge,” the tenderness -between man and master stood disclosed. And when the slave held that -charge sacred through storm and temptation, he gave new meaning to faith -and loyalty. I rejoice that when freedom came to him after years of -waiting, it was all the sweeter because the black hands from which the -shackles fell were stainless of a single crime against the helpless ones -confided to his care. - -From this root, imbedded in a century of kind and constant -companionship, has sprung some foliage. As no race had ever lived in -such unresisting bondage, none was ever hurried with such swiftness -through freedom into power. Into hands still trembling from the blow -that broke the shackles, was thrust the ballot. In less than twelve -months from the day he walked down the furrow a slave, the negro -dictated in legislative halls from which Davis and Calhoun had gone -forth, the policy of twelve commonwealths. When his late master -protested against his misrule, the federal drum-beat rolled around his -strong-holds, and from a hedge of federal bayonets he grinned in -good-natured insolence. From the proven incapacity of that day has he -far advanced? Simple, credulous, impulsive—easily led and too often -easily bought, is he a safer, more intelligent citizen now than then? Is -this mass of votes, loosed from old restraints, inviting alliance or -awaiting opportunity, less menacing than when its purpose was plain and -its way direct? - -My countrymen, right here the South must make a decision on which very -much depends. Many wise men hold that the white vote of the South should -divide, the color line be beaten down, and the southern States ranged on -economic or moral questions as interest or belief demands. I am -compelled to dissent from this view. The worst thing in my opinion that -could happen is that the white people of the South should stand in -opposing factions, with the vast mass of ignorant or purchasable negro -votes between. Consider such a status. If the negroes were skillfully -led,—and leaders would not be lacking,—it would give them the balance of -power—a thing not to be considered. If their vote was not compacted, it -would invite the debauching bid of factions, and drift surely to that -which was the most corrupt and cunning. With the shiftless habit and -irresolution of slavery days still possessing him, the negro voter will -not in this generation, adrift from war issues, become a steadfast -partisan through conscience or conviction. In every community there are -colored men who redeem their race from this reproach, and who vote under -reason. Perhaps in time the bulk of this race may thus adjust itself. -But, through what long and monstrous periods of political debauchery -this status would be reached, no tongue can tell. - -The clear and unmistakable domination of the white race, dominating not -through violence, not through party alliance, but through the integrity -of its own vote and the largeness of its sympathy and justice through -which it shall compel the support of the better classes of the colored -race,—that is the hope and assurance of the South. Otherwise, the negro -would be bandied from one faction to another. His credulity would be -played upon, his cupidity tempted, his impulses misdirected, his -passions inflamed. He would be forever in alliance with that faction -which was most desperate and unscrupulous. Such a state would be worse -than reconstruction, for then intelligence was banded, and its speedy -triumph assured. But with intelligence and property divided—bidding and -overbidding for place and patronage—irritation increasing with each -conflict—the bitterness and desperation seizing every heart—political -debauchery deepening, as each faction staked its all in the miserable -game—there would be no end to this, until our suffrage was hopelessly -sullied, our people forever divided, and our most sacred rights -surrendered. - -One thing further should be said in perfect frankness. Up to this point -we have dealt with ignorance and corruption—but beyond this point a -deeper issue confronts us. Ignorance may struggle to enlightenment, out -of corruption may come the incorruptible. God speed the day when,—every -true man will work and pray for its coming,—the negro must be led to -know and through sympathy to confess that his interests and the -interests of the people of the South are identical. The men who, from -afar off, view this subject through the cold eye of speculation or see -it distorted through partisan glasses, insist that, directly or -indirectly, the negro race shall be in control of the affairs of the -South. We have no fears of this; already we are attaching to us the best -elements of that race, and as we proceed our alliance will broaden; -external pressure but irritates and impedes. Those who would put the -negro race in supremacy would work against infallible decree, for the -white race can never submit to its domination, because the white race is -the superior race. But the supremacy of the white race of the South must -be maintained forever, and the domination of the negro race resisted at -all points and at all hazards—because the white race is the superior -race. This is the declaration of no new truth. It has abided forever in -the marrow of our bones, and shall run forever with the blood that feeds -Anglo-Saxon hearts. - -In political compliance the South has evaded the truth, and men have -drifted from their convictions. But we cannot escape this issue. It -faces us wherever we turn. It is an issue that has been, and will be. -The races and tribes of earth are of Divine origin. Behind the laws of -man and the decrees of war, stands the law of God. What God hath -separated let no man join together. The Indian, the Malay, the Negro, -the Caucasian, these types stand as markers of God’s will. Let not man -tinker with the work of the Almighty. Unity of civilization, no more -than unity of faith, will never be witnessed on earth. No race has -risen, or will rise, above its ordained place. Here is the pivotal fact -of this great matter—two races are made equal in law, and in political -rights, between whom the caste of race has set an impassable gulf. This -gulf is bridged by a statute, and the races are urged to cross thereon. -This cannot be. The fiat of the Almighty has gone forth, and in eighteen -centuries of history it is written. We would escape this issue if we -could. From the depths of its soul the South invokes from heaven “peace -on earth, and good will to man.” She would not, if she could, cast this -race back into the condition from which it was righteously raised. She -would not deny its smallest or abridge its fullest privilege. Not to -lift this burden forever from her people, would she do the least of -these things. She must walk through the valley of the shadow, for God -has so ordained. But he has ordained that she shall walk in that -integrity of race, that created in His wisdom has been perpetuated in -His strength. Standing in the presence of this multitude, sobered with -the responsibility of the message I deliver to the young men of the -South, I declare that the truth above all others to be worn unsullied -and sacred in your hearts, to be surrendered to no force, sold for no -price, compromised in no necessity, but cherished and defended as the -covenant of your prosperity, and the pledge of peace to your children, -is that the white race must dominate forever in the South, because it is -the white race, and superior to that race by which its supremacy is -threatened. - -It is a race issue. Let us come to this point, and stand here. Here the -air is pure and the light is clear, and here honor and peace abide. -Juggling and evasion deceives not a man. Compromise and subservience has -carried not a point. There is not a white man North or South who does -not feel it stir in the gray matter of his brain and throb in his heart. -Not a negro who does not feel its power. It is not a sectional issue. It -speaks in Ohio, and in Georgia. It speaks wherever the Anglo-Saxon -touches an alien race. It has just spoken in universally approved -legislation in excluding the Chinaman from our gates, not for his -ignorance, vice or corruption, but because he sought to establish an -inferior race in a republic fashioned in the wisdom and defended by the -blood of a homogeneous people. - -The Anglo-Saxon blood has dominated always and everywhere. It fed Alfred -when he wrote the charter of English liberty; it gathered about Hampden -as he stood beneath the oak; it thundered in Cromwell’s veins as he -fought his king; it humbled Napoleon at Waterloo; it has touched the -desert and jungle with undying glory; it carried the drumbeat of England -around the world and spread on every continent the gospel of liberty and -of God: it established this republic, carved it from the wilderness, -conquered it from the Indians, wrested it from England, and at last, -stilling its own tumult, consecrated it forever as the home of the -Anglo-Saxon, and the theater of his transcending achievement. Never one -foot of it can be surrendered while that blood lives in American veins, -and feeds American hearts, to the domination of an alien and inferior -race. - -And yet that is just what is proposed. Not in twenty years have we seen -a day so pregnant with fate to this section as the sixth of next -November. If President Cleveland is then defeated, which God forbid, I -believe these States will be led through sorrows compared to which the -woes of reconstruction will be as the fading dews of morning to the -roaring flood. To dominate these States through the colored vote, with -such aid as federal patronage may debauch or federal power deter, and -thus through its chosen instruments perpetuate its rule, is in my -opinion the settled purpose of the Republican party. I am appalled when -I measure the passion in which this negro problem is judged by the -leaders of the party. Fifteen years ago Vice-President Wilson said—and I -honor his memory as that of a courageous man: “We shall not have -finished with the South until we force its people to change their -thought, and think as we think.” I repeat these words, for I heard them -when a boy, and they fell on my ears as the knell of my people’s -rights—“to change their thought, and make them think as we think.” Not -enough to have conquered our armies—to have decimated our ranks, to have -desolated our fields and reduced us to poverty, to have struck the -ballot from our hands and enfranchised our slaves—to have held us -prostrate under bayonets while the insolent mocked and thieves -plundered—but their very souls must be rifled of their faiths, their -sacred traditions cudgeled from memory, and their immortal minds beaten -into subjection until thought had lost its integrity, and we were forced -“to think as they think.” And just now General Sherman has said, and I -honor him as a soldier: - - - “The negro must be allowed to vote, and his vote must be - counted; otherwise, so sure as there is a God in heaven, you - will have another war, more cruel than the last, when the torch - and dagger will take the place of the muskets of well-ordered - battalions. Should the negro strike that blow, in seeming - justice, there will be millions to assist them.” - - -And this General took Johnston’s sword in surrender! He looked upon the -thin and ragged battalions in gray, that for four years had held his -teeming and heroic legions at bay. Facing them, he read their courage in -their depleted ranks, and gave them a soldier’s parole. When he found it -in his heart to taunt these heroes with this threat, why—careless as he -was twenty years ago with fire, he is even more careless now with his -words. If we could hope that this problem would be settled within our -lives I would appeal from neither madness nor unmanliness. But when I -know that, strive as I may, I must at last render this awful heritage -into the untried hands of my son, already dearer to me than my life, and -that he must in turn bequeath it unsolved to his children, I cry out -against the inhumanity that deepens its difficulties with this -incendiary threat, and beclouds its real issue with inflaming passion. - -This problem is not only enduring, but it is widening. The exclusion of -the Chinese is the first step in the revolution that shall save liberty -and law and religion to this land, and in peace and order, not enforced -on the gallows or at the bayonet’s end, but proceeding from the heart of -an harmonious people, shall secure in the enjoyment of these rights, and -the control of this republic, the homogeneous people that established -and has maintained it. The next step will be taken when some brave -statesman, looking Demagogy in the face, shall move to call to the -stranger at our gates, “Who comes here?” admitting every man who seeks a -home, or honors our institutions, and whose habit and blood will run -with the native current; but excluding all who seek to plant anarchy or -to establish alien men or measures on our soil; and will then demand -that the standard of our citizenship be lifted and the right of -acquiring our suffrage be abridged. When that day comes, and God speed -its coming, the position of the South will be fully understood, and -everywhere approved. Until then, let us—giving the negro every right, -civil and political, measured in that fullness the strong should always -accord the weak—holding him in closer friendship and sympathy than he is -held by those who would crucify us for his sake—realizing that on his -prosperity ours depends—let us resolve that never by external pressure, -or internal division, shall he establish domination, directly or -indirectly, over that race that everywhere has maintained its supremacy. -Let this resolution be cast on the lines of equity and justice. Let it -be the pledge of honest, safe and impartial administration, and we shall -command the support of the colored race itself, more dependent than any -other on the bounty and protection of government. Let us be wise and -patient, and we shall secure through its acquiescence what otherwise we -should win through conflict, and hold in insecurity. - -All this is no unkindness to the negro—but rather that he may be led in -equal rights and in peace to his uttermost good. Not in sectionalism—for -my heart beats true to the Union, to the glory of which your life and -heart is pledged. Not in disregard of the world’s opinion—for to render -back this problem in the world’s approval is the sum of my ambition, and -the height of human achievement. Not in reactionary spirit—but rather to -make clear that new and grander way up which the South is marching to -higher destiny, and on which I would not halt her for all the spoils -that have been gathered unto parties since Catiline conspired, and Cæsar -fought. Not in passion, my countrymen, but in reason—not in narrowness, -but in breadth—that we may solve this problem in calmness and in truth, -and lifting its shadows let perpetual sunshine pour down on two races, -walking together in peace and contentment. Then shall this problem have -proved our blessing, and the race that threatened our ruin work our -salvation as it fills our fields with the best peasantry the world has -ever seen. Then the South—putting behind her all the achievements of her -past—and in war and in peace they beggar eulogy—may stand upright among -the nations and challenge the judgment of man and the approval of God, -in having worked out in their sympathy, and in His guidance, this last -and surpassing miracle of human government. - -What of the South’s industrial problem? When we remember that amazement -followed the payment by thirty-seven million Frenchmen of a billion -dollars indemnity to Germany, that the five million whites of the South -rendered to the torch and sword three billions of property—that thirty -million dollars a year, or six hundred million dollars in twenty years, -has been given willingly of our poverty as pensions for Northern -soldiers, the wonder is that we are here at all. There is a figure with -which history has dealt lightly, but that, standing pathetic and heroic -in the genesis of our new growth, has interested me greatly—our -soldier-farmer of ’65. What chance had he for the future as he wandered -amid his empty barns, his stock, labor, and implements gone—gathered up -the fragments of his wreck—urging kindly his borrowed mule—paying sixty -per cent. for all that he bought, and buying all on credit—his crop -mortgaged before it was planted—his children in want, his neighborhood -in chaos—working under new conditions and retrieving every error by a -costly year—plodding all day down the furrow, hopeless and adrift, save -when at night he went back to his broken home, where his wife, cheerful -even then, renewed his courage, while she ministered to him in loving -tenderness. Who would have thought as during those lonely and terrible -days he walked behind the plow, locking the sunshine in the glory of his -harvest, and spreading the showers and the verdure of his field—no -friend near save nature that smiled at his earnest touch, and God that -sent him the message of good cheer through the passing breeze and the -whispering leaves—that he would in twenty years, having carried these -burdens uncomplaining, make a crop of $800,000,000. Yet this he has -done, and from his bounty the South has rebuilded her cities, and -recouped her losses. While we exult in his splendid achievement, let us -take account of his standing. - -Whence this enormous growth? For ten years the world has been at peace. -The pioneer has now replaced the soldier. Commerce has whitened new -seas, and the merchant has occupied new areas. Steam has made of the -earth a chess-board, on which men play for markets. Our western -wheat-grower competes in London with the Russian and the East Indian. -The Ohio wool grower watches the Australian shepherd, and the bleat of -the now historic sheep of Vermont is answered from the steppes of Asia. -The herds that emerge from the dust of your amazing prairies might hear -in their pauses the hoof-beats of antipodean herds marching to meet -them. Under Holland’s dykes, the cheese and butter makers fight American -dairies. The hen cackles around the world. California challenges -vine-clad France. The dark continent is disclosed through meshes of -light. There is competition everywhere. The husbandman, driven from his -market, balances price against starvation, and undercuts his rival. This -conflict often runs to panic, and profit vanishes. The Iowa farmer -burning his corn for fuel is not an unusual type. - -Amid this universal conflict, where stands the South? While the producer -of everything we eat or wear, in every land, is fighting through glutted -markets for bare existence, what of the southern farmer? In his -industrial as in his political problem he is set apart—not in doubt, but -in assured independence. Cotton makes him king. Not the fleeces that -Jason sought can rival the richness of this plant, as it unfurls its -banners in our fields. It is gold from the instant it puts forth its -tiny shoot. The shower that whispers to it is heard around the world. -The trespass of a worm on its green leaf means more to England than the -advance of the Russians on her Asiatic outposts. When its fibre, current -in every bank, is marketed, it renders back to the South $350,000,000 -every year. Its seed will yield $60,000,000 worth of oil to the press -and $40,000,000 in food for soil and beast, making the stupendous total -of $450,000,000 annual income from this crop. And now, under the -Tompkins patent, from its stalk—news paper is to be made at two cents -per pound. Edward Atkinson once said: “If New England could grow the -cotton plant, without lint, it would make her richest crop; if she held -monopoly of cotton lint and seed she would control the commerce of the -world.” - -But is our monopoly, threatened from Egypt, India and Brazil, sure and -permanent? Let the record answer. In ’72 the American supply of cotton -was 3,241,000 bales,—foreign supply 3,036,000. We led our rivals by less -than 200,000 bales. This year the American supply is 8,000,000 -bales—from foreign sources, 2,100,000, expressed in bales of four -hundred pounds each. In spite of new areas elsewhere, of fuller -experience, of better transportation, and unlimited money spent in -experiment, the supply of foreign cotton has decreased since ’72 nearly -1,000,000 bales, while that of the South has increased nearly 5,000,000. -Further than this: Since 1872, population in Europe has increased 13 per -cent., and cotton consumption in Europe has increased 50 per cent. Still -further: Since 1880 cotton consumption in Europe has increased 28 per -cent., wool only 4 per cent., and flax has decreased 11 per cent. As for -new areas, the uttermost missionary woos the heathen with a cotton shirt -in one hand and the Bible in the other, and no savage I believe has ever -been converted to one, without adopting the other. To summarize: Our -American fibre has increased its product nearly three-fold, while it has -seen the product of its rival decrease one-third. It has enlarged its -dominion in the old centers of population, supplanting flax and wool, -and it peeps from the satchel of every business and religious evangelist -that trots the globe. In three years the American crop has increased -1,400,000 bales, and yet there is less cotton in the world to-day than -at any time for twenty years. The dominion of our king is established; -this princely revenue assured, not for a year, but for all time. It is -the heritage that God gave us when he arched our skies, established our -mountains, girt us about with the ocean, tempered the sunshine, and -measured the rain—ours and our children’s forever. - -Not alone in cotton, but in iron, does the South excel. The Hon. Mr. -Norton, who honors this platform with his presence, once said to me: “An -Englishman of the highest character predicted that the Atlantic will be -whitened within our lives with sails carrying American iron and coal to -England.” When he made that prediction the English miners were -exhausting the coal in long tunnels above which the ocean thundered. -Having ores and coal stored in exhaustless quantity, in such richness, -and in such adjustment, that iron can be made and manufacturing done -cheaper than elsewhere on this continent, is to now command, and at last -control, the world’s market for iron. The South now sells iron, through -Pittsburg, in New York. She has driven Scotch iron first from the -interior, and finally from American ports. Within our lives she will -cross the Atlantic, and fulfill the Englishman’s prophecy. In 1880 the -South made 212,000 tons of iron. In 1887, 845,000 tons. She is now -actually building, or has finished this year, furnaces that will produce -more than her entire product of last year. Birmingham alone will produce -more iron in 1889 than the entire South produced in 1887. Our coal -supply is exhaustless, Texas alone having 6000 square miles. In marble -and granite we have no rivals, as to quantity or quality. In lumber our -riches are even vaster. More than fifty per cent. of our entire area is -in forests, making the South the best timbered region of the world. We -have enough merchantable yellow pine to bring, in money, -$2,500,000,000—a sum the vastness of which can only be understood when I -say it nearly equaled the assessed value of the entire South, including -cities, forests, farms, mines, factories and personal property of every -description whatsoever. Back of this our forests of hard woods, and -measureless swamps of cypress and gum. Think of it. In cotton a -monopoly. In iron and coal establishing swift mastery. In granite and -marble developing equal advantage and resource. In yellow pine and hard -woods the world’s treasury. Surely the basis of the South’s wealth and -power is laid by the hand of the Almighty God, and its prosperity has -been established by divine law which work in eternal justice and not by -taxes levied on its neighbors through human statutes. Paying tribute for -fifty years that under artificial conditions other sections might reach -a prosperity impossible under natural laws, it has grown apace—and its -growth shall endure if its people are ruled by two maxims, that reach -deeper than legislative enactment, and the operation of which cannot be -limited by artificial restraint, and but little hastened by artificial -stimulus. - -First. No one crop will make a people prosperous. If cotton held its -monopoly under conditions that made other crops impossible—or under -allurements that made other crops exceptional—its dominion would be -despotism. - -Whenever the greed for a money crop unbalances the wisdom of husbandry, -the money crop is a curse. When it stimulates the general economy of the -farm, it is the profiting of farming. In an unprosperous strip of -Carolina, when asked the cause of their poverty, the people say, -“Tobacco—for it is our only crop.” In Lancaster, Pa., the richest -American county by the census, when asked the cause of their prosperity, -they say, “Tobacco—for it is the golden crown of a diversified -agriculture.” The soil that produces cotton invites the grains and -grasses, the orchard and the vine. Clover, corn, cotton, wheat, and -barley thrive in the same inclosure; the peach, the apple, the apricot, -and the Siberian crab in the same orchard. Herds and flocks graze ten -months every year in the meadows over which winter is but a passing -breath, and in which spring and autumn meet in summer’s heart. -Sugar-cane and oats, rice and potatoes, are extremes that come together -under our skies. To raise cotton and send its princely revenues to the -west for supplies, and to the east for usury, would be misfortune if -soil and climate forced such a curse. When both invite independence, to -remain in slavery is a crime. To mortgage our farms in Boston for money -with which to buy meat and bread from western cribs and smokehouses, is -folly unspeakable. I rejoice that Texas is less open to this charge than -others of the cotton States. With her eighty million bushels of grain, -and her sixteen million head of stock, she is rapidly learning that -diversified agriculture means prosperity. Indeed, the South is rapidly -learning the same lesson; and learned through years of debt and -dependence it will never be forgotten. The best thing Georgia has done -in twenty years was to raise her oat crop in one season from two million -to nine million bushels, without losing a bale of her cotton. It is more -for the South that she has increased her crop of corn—that best of -grains, of which Samuel J. Tilden said, “It will be the staple food of -the future, and men will be stronger and better when that day comes”—by -forty-three million bushels this year, than to have won a pivotal battle -in the late war. In this one item she keeps at home this year a sum -equal to the entire cotton crop of my State that last year went to the -west. - -This is the road to prosperity. It is the way to manliness and -sturdiness of character. When every farmer in the South shall eat bread -from his own fields and meat from his own pastures, and disturbed by no -creditor, and enslaved by no debt, shall sit amid his teeming gardens, -and orchards, and vineyards, and dairies, and barnyards, pitching his -crops in his own wisdom, and growing them in independence, making cotton -his clean surplus, and selling it in his own time, and in his chosen -market, and not at a master’s bidding—getting his pay in cash and not in -a receipted mortgage that discharges his debt, but does not restore his -freedom—then shall be breaking the fullness of our day. Great is King -Cotton! But to lie at his feet while the usurer and grain-raiser bind us -in subjection, is to invite the contempt of man and the reproach of God. -But to stand up before him and amid the crops and smokehouses wrest from -him the magna charta of our independence, and to establish in his name -an ample and diversified agriculture, that shall honor him while it -enriches us—this is to carry us as far in the way of happiness and -independence as the farmer, working in the fullest wisdom, and in the -richest field, can carry any people. - -But agriculture alone—no matter how rich or varied its resources—cannot -establish or maintain a people’s prosperity. There is a lesson in this -that Texas may learn with profit. No commonwealth ever came to greatness -by producing raw material. Less can this be possible in the future than -in the past. The Comstock lode is the richest spot on earth. And yet the -miners, gasping for breath fifteen hundred feet below the earth’s -surface, get bare existence out of the splendor they dig from the earth. -It goes to carry the commerce and uphold the industry of distant lands, -of which the men who produce it get but dim report. Hardly more is the -South profited when, stripping the harvest of her cotton fields, or -striking her teeming hills, or leveling her superb forests, she sends -the raw material to augment the wealth and power of distant communities. - -Texas produces a million and a half bales of cotton, which yield her -$60,000,000. That cotton, woven into common goods, would add $75,000,000 -to Texas’s income from this crop, and employ 220,000 operatives, who -would spend within her borders more than $30,000,000 in wages. -Massachusetts manufactures 575,000 bales of cotton, for which she pays -$31,000,000, and sells for $72,000,000, adding a value nearly equal to -Texas’s gross revenue from cotton, and yet Texas has a clean advantage -for manufacturing this cotton of one per cent a pound over -Massachusetts. The little village of Grand Rapids began manufacturing -furniture simply because it was set in a timber district. It is now a -great city and sells $10,000,000 worth of furniture every year, in -making which 125,000 men are employed, and a population of 40,000 people -supported. The best pine districts of the world are in eastern Texas. -With less competition and wider markets than Grand Rapids has, will she -ship her forests at prices that barely support the wood-chopper and -sawyer, to be returned in the making of which great cities are built or -maintained? When her farmers and herdsmen draw from her cities -$126,000,000 as the price of their annual produce, shall this enormous -wealth be scattered through distant shops and factories, leaving in the -hands of Texas no more than the sustenance, support, and the narrow -brokerage between buyer and seller? As one-crop farming cannot support -the country, neither can a resource of commercial exchange support a -city. Texas wants immigrants—she needs them—for if every human being in -Texas were placed at equi-distant points through the State no Texan -could hear the sound of a human voice in your broad areas. - -So how can you best attract immigration? By furnishing work for the -artisan and mechanic if you meet the demand of your population for -cheaper and essential manufactured articles. One-half million workers -would be needed for this, and with their families would double the -population of your State. In these mechanics and their dependents -farmers would find a market for not only their staple crops but for the -truck that they now despise to raise or sell, but is at least the cream -of the farm. Worcester county, Mass., takes $720,000,000 of our material -and turns out $87,000,000 of products every year, paying $20,000,000 in -wages. The most prosperous section of this world is that known as the -Middle States of this republic. With agriculture and manufacturers in -the balance, and their shops and factories set amid rich and ample -acres, the result is such deep and diffuse prosperity as no other -section can show. Suppose those States had a monopoly of cotton and coal -so disposed as to command the world’s markets and the treasury of the -world’s timber, I suppose the mind is staggered in contemplating the -majesty of the wealth and power they would attain. What have they that -the South lacks?—and to her these things were added, and climate, ampler -acres and rich soil. It is a curious fact that three-fourths of the -population and manufacturing wealth of this country is comprised in a -narrow strip between Iowa and Massachusetts, comprising less than -one-sixth of our territory, and that this strip is distant from the -source of raw materials on which its growth is based, of hard climate -and in a large part of sterile soil. Much of this forced and unnatural -development is due to slavery, which for a century fenced enterprise and -capital out of the South. Mr. Thomas, who in the Lehigh Valley owned a -furnace in 1845 that set that pattern for iron-making in America, had at -that time bought mines and forest where Birmingham now stands. Slavery -forced him away. He settled in Pennsylvania. I have wondered what would -have happened if that one man had opened his iron mines in Alabama and -set his furnaces there at that time. I know what is going to happen -since he has been forced to come to Birmingham and put up two furnaces -nearly forty years after his survey. - -Another cause that has prospered New England and the Middle States while -the South languished, is the system of tariff taxes levied on the -unmixed agriculture of these States for the protection of industries to -our neighbors to the North, a system on which the Hon. Roger Q. -Mills—that lion of the tribe of Judah—has at last laid his mighty paw -and under the indignant touch of which it trembles to its center. That -system is to be revised and its duties reduced, as we all agree it -should be, though I should say in perfect frankness I do not agree with -Mr. Mills in it. Let us hope this will be done with care and industrious -patience. Whether it stands or falls, the South has entered the -industrial list to partake of his bounty if it stands, and if it falls -to rely on the favor with which nature has endowed her, and from this -immutable advantage to fill her own markets and then have a talk with -the world at large. - -With amazing rapidity she has moved away from the one-crop idea that was -once her curse. In 1880 she was esteemed prosperous. Since that time she -has added 393,000,000 bushels to her grain crops, and 182,000,000 head -to her live stock. This has not lost one bale of her cotton crop, which, -on the contrary, has increased nearly 200,000 bales. With equal -swiftness has she moved away from the folly of shipping out her ore at -$2 a ton and buying it back in implements from $20 to $100 per ton; her -cotton at 10 cents a pound and buying it back in cloth at 20 to 80 cents -per pound; her timber at $8 per thousand and buying it back in furniture -at ten to twenty times as much. In the past eight years $250,000,000 -have been invested in new shops and factories in her States; 225,000 -artisans are now working that eight years ago were idle or worked -elsewhere, and these added $227,000,000 to the value of her raw -material—more than half the value of her cotton. Add to this the value -of her increased grain crops and stock, and in the past eight years she -has grown in her fields or created in her shops manufactures more than -the value of her cotton crop. The incoming tide has begun to rise. Every -train brings manufacturers from the East and West seeking to establish -themselves or their sons near the raw material and in this growing -market. Let the fullness of the tide roll in. - -It will not exhaust our materials, nor shall we glut our markets. When -the growing demand of our southern market, feeding on its own growth, is -met, we shall find new markets for the South. Under our new condition -many indirect laws of commerce shall be straightened. We buy from Brazil -$50,000,000 worth of goods, and sell her $8,500,000. England buys only -$29,000,000, and sells her $35,000,000. Of $65,000,000 in cotton goods -bought by Central and South America, over $50,000,000 went to England. -Of $331,000,000 sent abroad by the southern half of our hemisphere, -England secures over half, although we buy from that section nearly -twice as much as England. Our neighbors to the south need nearly every -article we make; we need nearly everything they produce. Less than 2,500 -miles of road must be built to bind by rail the two American continents. -When this is done, and even before, we shall find exhaustless markets to -the South. Texas shall command, as she stands in the van of this new -movement, its richest rewards. - -The South, under the rapid diversification of crops and diversification -of industries, is thrilling with new life. As this new prosperity comes -to us, it will bring no sweeter thought to me, and to you, my -countrymen, I am sure, than that it adds not only to the comfort and -happiness of our neighbors, but that it makes broader the glory and -deeper the majesty, and more enduring the strength, of the Union which -reigns supreme in our hearts. In this republic of ours is lodged the -hope of free government on earth. Here God has rested the ark of his -covenant with the sons of men. Let us—once estranged and thereby closer -bound,—let us soar above all provincial pride and find our deeper -inspirations in gathering the fullest sheaves into the harvest and -standing the staunchest and most devoted of its sons as it lights the -path and makes clear the way through which all the people of this earth -shall come in God’s appointed time. - -A few words for the young men of Texas. I am glad that I can speak to -them at all. Men, especially young men, look back for their inspiration -to what is best in their traditions. Thermopylæ cast Spartan sentiments -in heroic mould and sustained Spartan arms for more than a century. -Thermopylæ had survivors to tell the story of its defeat. The Alamo had -none. Though voiceless it shall speak from its dumb walls. Liberty cried -out to Texas, as God called from the clouds unto Moses. Bowie and -Fanning, though dead still live. Their voices rang above the din of -Goliad and the glory of San Jacinto, and they marched with the Texas -veterans who rejoiced at the birth of Texas independence. It is the -spirit of the Alamo that moved above the Texas soldiers as they charged -like demigods through a thousand battle-fields, and it is the spirit of -the Alamo that whispers from their graves held in every State of the -Union, ennobling their dust, their soil, that was crimsoned with their -blood. - -In this spirit of this inspiration and in the thrill of the amazing -growth that surrounds you, my young friends, it will be strange if the -young men of Texas do not carry the lone star into the heart of the -struggle. The South needs her sons to-day more than when she summoned -them to the forum to maintain her political supremacy, more than when -the bugle called them to the field to defend issues put to the -arbitrament of the sword. Her old body is instinct with appeal calling -on us to come and give her fuller independence than she has ever sought -in field or forum. It is ours to show that as she prospered with slaves -she shall prosper still more with freemen; ours to see that from the -lists she entered in poverty she shall emerge in prosperity; ours to -carry the transcending traditions of the old South from which none of us -can in honor or in reverence depart, unstained and unbroken into the -new. Shall we fail? Shall the blood of the old South—the best strain -that ever uplifted human endeavor—that ran like water at duty’s call and -never stained where it touched—shall this blood that pours into our -veins through a century luminous with achievement, for the first time -falter and be driven back from irresolute heat, when the old South, that -left us a better heritage in manliness and courage than in broad and -rich acres, calls us to settle problems? A soldier lay wounded on a -hard-fought field, the roar of the battle had died away, and he rested -in the deadly stillness of its aftermath. Not a sound was heard as he -lay there, sorely smitten and speechless, but the shriek of wounded and -the sigh of the dying soul, as it escaped from the tumult of earth into -the unspeakable peace of the stars. Off over the field flickered the -lanterns of the surgeons with the litter bearers, searching that they -might take away those whose lives could be saved and leave in sorrow -those who were doomed to die with pleading eyes through the darkness. -This poor soldier watched, unable to turn or speak as the lanterns grew -near. At last the light flashed in his face, and the surgeon, with -kindly face, bent over him, hesitated a moment, shook his head, and was -gone, leaving the poor fellow alone with death. He watched in patient -agony as they went on from one part of the field to another. As they -came back the surgeon bent over him again. “I believe if this poor -fellow lives to sundown to-morrow he will get well.” And again leaving -him, not to death but with hope; all night long these words fell into -his heart as the dews fell from the stars upon his lips, “if he but -lives till sundown, he will get well.” He turned his weary head to the -east and watched for the coming sun. At last the stars went out, the -east trembled with radiance, and the sun, slowly lifting above the -horizon, tinged his pallid face with flame. He watched it inch by inch -as it climbed slowly up the heavens. He thought of life, its hopes and -ambitions, its sweetness and its raptures, and he fortified his soul -against despair until the sun had reached high noon. It sloped down its -slow descent, and his life was ebbing away and his heart was faltering, -and he needed stronger stimulants to make him stand the struggle until -the end of the day had come. He thought of his far-off home, the blessed -house resting in tranquil peace with the roses climbing to its door, and -the trees whispering to its windows, and dozing in the sunshine, the -orchard and the little brook running like a silver thread through the -forest. - -“If I live till sundown I will see it again. I will walk down the shady -lane: I will open the battered gate, and the mocking-bird shall call to -me from the orchard, and I will drink again at the old mossy spring.” - -And he thought of the wife who had come from the neighboring farmhouse -and put her hand shyly in his, and brought sweetness to his life and -light to his home. - -“If I live till sundown I shall look once more into her deep and loving -eyes and press her brown head once more to my aching breast.” - -And he thought of the old father, patient in prayer, bending lower and -lower every day under his load of sorrow and old age. - -“If I but live till sundown I shall see him again and wind my strong arm -about his feeble body, and his hands shall rest upon my head while the -unspeakable healing of his blessing falls into my heart.” - -And he thought of the little children that clambered on his knees and -tangled their little hands into his heart-strings, making to him such -music as the world shall not equal or heaven surpass. - -“If I live till sundown they shall again find my parched lips with their -warm mouths, and their little fingers shall run once more over my face.” - -And he then thought of his old mother, who gathered these children about -her and breathed her old heart afresh in their brightness and attuned -her old lips anew to their prattle, that she might live till her big boy -came home. - -“If I live till sundown I will see her again, and I will rest my head at -my old place on her knees, and weep away all memory of this desolate -night.” And the Son of God, who had died for men, bending from the -stars, put the hand that had been nailed to the cross on ebbing life and -held on the staunch until the sun went down and the stars came out, and -shone down in the brave man’s heart and blurred in his glistening eyes, -and the lanterns of the surgeons came and he was taken from death to -life. - -The world is a battle-field strewn with the wrecks of government and -institutions, of theories and of faiths that have gone down in the -ravage of years. On this field lies the South, sown with her problems. -Upon the field swings the lanterns of God. Amid the carnage walks the -Great Physician. Over the South he bends. “If ye but live until -to-morrow’s sundown ye shall endure, my countrymen.” Let us for her sake -turn our faces to the east and watch as the soldier watched for the -coming sun. Let us staunch her wounds and hold steadfast. The sun mounts -the skies. As it descends to us, minister to her and stand constant at -her side for the sake of our children, and of generations unborn that -shall suffer if she fails. And when the sun has gone down and the day of -her probation has ended, and the stars have rallied her heart, the -lanterns shall be swung over the field and the Great Physician shall -lead her up, from trouble into content, from suffering into peace, from -death to life. Let every man here pledge himself in this high and ardent -hour, as I pledge myself and the boy that shall follow me; every man -himself and his son, hand to hand and heart to heart, that in death and -earnest loyalty, in patient painstaking and care, he shall watch her -interest, advance her fortune, defend her fame and guard her honor as -long as life shall last. Every man in the sound of my voice, under the -deeper consecration he offers to the Union, will consecrate himself to -the South. Have no ambition but to be first at her feet and last at her -service. No hope but, after a long life of devotion, to sink to sleep in -her bosom, and as a little child sleeps at his mother’s breast and rests -untroubled in the light of her smile. - -With such consecrated service, what could we not accomplish; what riches -we should gather for her; what glory and prosperity we should render to -the Union; what blessings we should gather unto the universal harvest of -humanity. As I think of it, a vision of surpassing beauty unfolds to my -eyes. I see a South, the home of fifty millions of people, who rise up -every day to call from blessed cities, vast hives of industry and of -thrift; her country-sides the treasures from which their resources are -drawn; her streams vocal with whirring spindles; her valleys tranquil in -the white and gold of the harvest; her mountains showering down the -music of bells, as her slow-moving flocks and herds go forth from their -folds; her rulers honest and her people loving, and her homes happy and -their hearthstones bright, and their waters still, and their pastures -green, and her conscience clear; her wealth diffused and poor-houses -empty, her churches earnest and all creeds lost in the gospel. Peace and -sobriety walking hand in hand through her borders; honor in her homes; -uprightness in her midst; plenty in her fields; straight and simple -faith in the hearts of her sons and daughters; her two races walking -together in peace and contentment; sunshine everywhere and all the time, -and night falling on her generally as from the wings of the unseen dove. - -All this, my country, and more can we do for you. As I look the vision -grows, the splendor deepens, the horizon falls back, the skies open -their everlasting gates, and the glory of the Almighty God streams -through as He looks down on His people who have given themselves unto -Him and leads them from one triumph to another until they have reached a -glory unspeaking, and the whirling stars, as in their courses through -Arcturus they run to the milky way, shall not look down on a better -people or happier land. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - AT THE AUGUSTA EXPOSITION. - - ------- - -IN NOVEMBER, 1887, AT THE AUGUSTA EXPOSITION, MR. GRADY DELIVERED THE -FOLLOWING ADDRESS: - - - “When my eyes for the last time behold the sun in the heavens, - may they rest upon the glorious ensign of this republic, still - full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in original - lustre, not a star obscured or a stripe effaced, but everywhere - blazing in characters of living light all over its ample folds - as they wave over land and sea, and in every wind under heaven, - that sentiment dear to every American heart, liberty and union - now and forever, one and inseparable!” - - -These words of Daniel Webster, whose brain was the temple of wisdom and -whose soul the temple of liberty, inspire my heart as I speak to you -to-day. - -Ladies and gentlemen: This day is auspicious. Set apart by governor and -president for universal thanksgiving, our grateful hearts confirm the -consecration. Though we have not been permitted to parade our democratic -roosters in jubilant print, we may now lead them from their innocuous -desuetude, and making them the basis of this day’s feast, gather about -them a company that in cordial grace shall be excelled by none—not even -that which invests the republican turkey, whose steaming thighs shall be -slipped to-day in Indianapolis, and attacking them with an appetite that -comes from abounding health, consign them to that digestion that waits -on a conscience void of offense. - -We give thanks to-day that the Lord God Almighty, having led us from -desolation into plenty, from poverty into substance, from passion into -reason, and from estrangement into love—having brought the harvests from -the ashes, and raised us homes from our ruins, and touched our scarred -land all over with beauty and with peace—permits us to assemble here -to-day and rejoice amid the garnered heaps of our treasure. Your -visitors give thanks because, coming to a city that from deep disaster -has risen with energy and courage unequaled, and witnessing an -exposition that in the sweep of its mighty arms and the splendor of its -gathered riches surpasses all we have attempted, they find all sense of -rivalry blotted out in wondering admiration, and from hearts that know -not envy or criticism, bid you God-speed to even higher achievement, and -to full and swift harvesting of the prosperity to gain which you have -builded so bravely and so wisely. - -I am thankful, if you will pardon this personal digression, because I -now meet face to face, and can render service to a people whose generous -words on a late occasion touched my heart more deeply than I shall -attempt here to express. I simply say to you now, and I would that my -voice could reach every man in Georgia to whom I am in like indebted, -that your kindness left no room for resentment or regret; but a heart -filled with gratitude and love steadier in its resolution to deserve the -approval you so unstintingly gave, and more deeply consecrated to the -service of the people, that in giving me their love have given all that -I have dared to hope for, and more than I had dared to ask. I know not -what the future may hold for the life that recent events have jostled -from its accustomed path. It would be affectation to say that I am -careless—for, in touching it with your loving confidence, you have -kindled inspirations that cherished without guile, may be confessed in -frankness. But if it be given to man to read the human heart, and plumb -the quicksands of human ambition, I know that I speak the truth when I -say that if ever I hold in my grasp any honor, in the winning or wearing -of which my State is disadvantaged, and my hand refuses to surrender it, -I pray God that in remembrance of this hour He will strike it from me -forever; and if my ambitious heart rebels, that He will lead it, even -through sorrow and humiliation, to know that unworthy laurels will fade -on the brow, and that no honor can ennoble, no triumph advance, and no -victory satisfy that is not won and worn in the weal of the people and -the prosperity of the State. - -It gives us pleasure to meet to-day our neighbors from Carolina, and by -the banks of this river, more bond than boundary, give them cordial -welcome to Georgia. The people of these States, sir, are ancient and -honorable friends. When the infant colony that settled Georgia landed -from its long voyage it was the hands of Carolinians that helped them -ashore, and Carolina’s hospitality that gave them food and shelter. A -banquet was served at Beaufort, the details of which proved our -ancestors to have been doughty trenchermen, and at which we are not -surprised to learn a goodly quantity of most excellent wine was served, -nor to learn—for scribes extenuated then as now—that, though the affair -was conducted in the most agreeable manner, no one became intoxicated. -When the Georgians took up their march to Savannah they carried with -them herds from the Carolinians’ folds, and food from their granaries, -and an offer from Mr. Whitaker—blessed be his memory!—of a silver spoon -for the first male child born on Georgia soil, the first instance, I -believe, of a bounty offered or protection guaranteed to an infant -industry on this continent. When they settled, it was Carolina gentlemen -with their servants that builded the huts and sheltered them, and -Carolina captains with their picket men that guarded them from the -Indians. As from your slender and pitiful store you gave then -bountifully to us, we invite you to-day to share with us our plenty and -rejoice with us that what you planted in neighborly kindness hath grown -into such greatness. - -I am stirred with the profoundest emotion when I reflect upon what the -peoples of these two States have endured together. Shoulder to shoulder -they have fought through two revolutions. Side by side they have fallen -on the field of battle, and, brothers even in death, have rested in -common graves. Hand clasped in hand, they enjoyed victory together, and -together reaped in honor and dignity the fruits of their triumph. Heart -locked in heart, they have stood undaunted in the desolation of defeat -and, fortified by unfailing comradeship, have wrought gladness and peace -from the tumult and bitterness of despair. Of them it may be truly said, -they have known no rivalry save that emulation which inspires each, and -embitters neither. If we match your Calhoun, one of that trinity that -hath most been and shall not be equaled in political record, with our -Stephens, who was as acute in expounding, and as devoted in defending -the constitution as he; your Hayne, who maintained himself valiantly -against the great mastodon in American politics, with our Hill (would -that he might be given back to us to-day), who took the ablest debater -of the age by the throat and shook him until his eager tongue was -stilled and the lips that had slandered the South were livid in shame -and confusion; if against McDuffie, eloquent and immortal tribune, we -put our Toombs, the Mirabeau of his day, surpassing the Frenchman in -eloquence, and stainless of his crimes; if against Legare, both scholar -and statesman, we put our Wilde, not surpassed as either; if we proffer -Lanier, Barick and Harris, when the praises of Sims, and Hayne, and -Timrod are sung, it is only because we rejoice in the strength of each -which has honored both, and glorified our great republic. Let the glory -of our past history incite us to the future; let the trials we have -endured nerve us for trials yet to come, and let Georgia and Carolina, -that in prosperity united, in adversity have not been divided, strike -hands here to-day in a new compact that shall hold them bound together -in comradeship and love as long as the Savannah, laying its lips on the -cheeks of either, runs down to the sea. - -The South is now confronted by two dangers. - -First, that by remaining solid it will force a permanent sectional -alignment, under which being in minority it has nothing to gain, and -everything to lose. - -Second, that by dividing it will debauch its political system, destroy -the defenses of its social integrity, and put the balance of power in -the hands of an ignorant and dangerous class. - -Let us discuss these dangers for a moment. - -As to the first. I do not doubt that every day the South remains solid, -the drift toward a solid North is deepening. The South is solid now in a -sense not dreamed of in ante-bellum days. Then we divided on every -question save one, that of preserving equal representation in the -Senate. Clay championed the protective tariff. Jackson flew at Calhoun’s -throat when Carolina threatened to nullify. Polk, of Tennessee, was made -president over Clay, of Kentucky. In 1852, Pierce received the vote of -twenty-seven States out of thirty-one, though this period marked the -height of slavery disturbance. The South was solid then on one thing -alone. On all other questions national suffrage knew no sectional lines. -To-day the South is a mass of States merged into one; every issue fused -in the ardor of one great question, and our 153 electoral votes hurled -as a rifle-ball into the electoral college. The tendency of this must be -to solidify the North. Indeed, this is already being done. Seymour and -Blair, in 1868, on a platform declaring the amendments null and void, -were beaten in the North by Grant, the hero of the war, by less than -100,000 votes. Mr. Harrison, twenty years later, beat Cleveland with a -flawless record and a careful platform, over 450,000 votes in the -northern States. The solid South invites the solid North. From this -status the South has little to hope. The North is already in the -majority. More than five million immigrants have poured into her States -in the past ten years, and will be declared in the next census. Four new -States will give her eight new senators and twelve electoral votes. In -the South but one State has kept pace with the West—and that one, Texas, -has largely gained at the expense of the Atlantic States. The South had -thirty-eight per cent. of the electoral vote in 1880. It is doubtful if -she will have over twenty-five per cent. in 1890. To remain solid, -therefore, is to incur the danger of being placed in perpetual minority, -and practically shut out from participation in the government, into -which Georgia and Massachusetts came as equals—that was fashioned in -their common wisdom, defended in their common blood, and bought of their -common treasure. - -But what of the other danger? Can we risk that to avoid the first? I am -sure we cannot. The very worst thing that could happen to the South is -to have her white vote divided into factions, and each faction bidding -for the negro who holds the balance of power. What is this negro vote? -In every southern State it is considerable, and I fear it is increasing. -It is alien, being separated by racial differences that are deep and -permanent. It is ignorant—easily deluded or betrayed. It is -impulsive—lashed by a word into violence. It is purchasable, having the -incentive of poverty and cupidity, and the restraint of neither pride -nor conviction. It can never be merged through logical or orderly -currents into either of two parties, if two should present themselves. -We cannot be rid of it. There it is, a vast mass of impulsive, ignorant -and purchasable votes. With no factions between which to swing it has no -play or dislocation; but thrown from one faction to another it is the -loosed cannon on the storm-tossed ship. There is no community that would -deliberately tempt this danger; no social or political fabric that could -stand its strain. The Tweed ring, backed by a similar and less -irresponsible following than a shrewd clique could rally and control in -every southern State, and daring less of plunder and insolence than that -following would sanction or support, blotted out party lines in New -York, and made its intelligence and integrity as solid as the South ever -was. Party lines were promptly recast because New York had to deal with -the vicious, who once punished may be trusted to sulk in quiet while -their wounds heal. We deal with the ignorant, that scourged from power -to-day, may be deluded to-morrow into assaulting the very position from -which they have been lashed. Never did robbers find followers more to -their mind than the emancipated slaves of reconstruction days. Ignorant -and confiding, they could be committed to any excess, led to any -outrage. Deep as was the degradation to which these sovereign States -were carried, and heavy as is the burden they left on this impoverished -people, it was only when the white race, rallying from the graves of its -dead and the ashes of its homes, closed its decimated ranks, and -fronting federal bayonets, and defying federal power, stood like a stone -wall before the uttermost temples of its liberty and credit, and the -hideous drama closed, that the miserable assault was checked. - -Shall those ranks be broken while the danger still threatens? - -Let the whites divide, what happens? Here is this dangerous and alien -influence that holds the balance of power. It cannot be won by argument, -for it is without information, understanding or traditions—hence without -convictions. It must be bought by race privileges granted as such, or by -money paid outright. Let us follow this in its twofold aspect. One -faction gives the negro certain privileges and wins. The other offers -more. The first bids under, and so the sickening work goes on until the -barriers that now protect the social integrity and peace of both races -are swept away. The negro gains nothing, for he secures these spoils and -privileges not by deserving them, or qualifying himself for them, but as -the plunder of an irritating struggle in which he loses that largeness -of sympathy and tolerance that is at last essential to his well-being -and advancement. The other aspect is as bad. One side puts up five -thousand dollars for the purchase of the negro vote and wins. The other, -declining at first to corrupt the suffrage, but realizing at last that -the administration on which his life and property depends is at stake, -doubles this, and so the debauching deepens until at last such enormous -sums are spent that they must be recouped from the public treasuries. -Good men disgusted go to the rear. The shrewd and unscrupulous are put -to the front, and the negro, carrying with him the balance of power, -falls at last into the grasp of the faction which is most cunning and -conscienceless. National parties, finding here their cheapest market and -widest field, will pour millions into the South, adding to the -corruption funds of municipal and State factions until the ballot-box -will be hopelessly debauched, all the approaches thereto corrupt, and -all the results therefrom tainted. - -I understand perfectly that this is not the largest view of this -question to take. The larger interests of this section and of the Union -do not rest here. I deplore this fact. I would that the South, fettered -by no circumstances and embarrassed by no problem, could take her place -by the side of her sister States, making alliance as her interest or -patriotism suggested. - -Let me say here that I yield to no man in my love for this Union. I was -taught from my cradle to love it, and my father, loving it to the last, -nevertheless gave his life for Georgia when she asked it at his hands. -Loving the Union as he did, yet would I do unto Georgia even as he did. -I said once in New York, and I repeat it here, honoring his memory as I -do nothing on this earth, I still thank God that the American conflict -was adjudged by higher wisdom than his or mine, that the honest purposes -of the South were crossed, her brave armies beaten, and the American -Union saved from the storm of war. I love this Union because I am an -American citizen. I love it because it stands in the light while other -nations are groping in the dark. I love it because here, in this -republic of a homogeneous people, must be worked out the great problems -that perplex the world and established the axioms that must uplift and -regenerate humanity. I love it because it is my country, and my State -stood by when its flag was once unfurled, and uplifted her stainless -sword, and pledged “her life, her property and her sacred honor,” and -when the last star glittered from the silken folds, and with her -precious blood wrote her loyalty in its crimson bars. I love it, because -I know that its flag, fluttering from the misty heights of the future, -followed by a devoted people once estranged and thereby closer bound, -shall blaze out the way, and make clear the path up which all the -nations of the earth shall come in God’s appointed time. - -I know the ideal status is that every State should vote without regard -to sectional lines. The reconciliation of the people will never be -complete until Iowa and Georgia, Texas and Massachusetts may stand side -by side without surprise. I would to God that status could be reached! -If any man can define a path on which the whites of the South, though -divided, can walk in honor and peace, I shall take that path, though I -walk down it alone—for at the end of that path, and nowhere else, lies -the full emancipation of my section and the full restoration of this -Union. - -But it cannot be. When the negro was enfranchised, the South was -condemned to solidity as surely as self-preservation is the first law of -nature. A State here or there may drift away, but it will come back -assuredly—and come through such travail, and bearing such burden, as -neither war nor pestilence can bring. This problem is not of our -seeking. It was thrust upon us not in the orderly unfolding of a -preordained plan, but in hot impulse and passion, against the judgment -of the world and the lessons of history, and to the peril of popular -government, which rests at last on a pure and unsullied suffrage as a -building rests on its cornerstone. If it be urged that it was the -inexorable result of our course in 1860, we reply that we took that -course in deliberation, maintained it in sincerity, sealed it with the -blood of our best and bravest—and we accept without complaint, and abide -in dignity, its direct and ultimate results, and shall hold it to be, in -spite of defeat, forever honorable and sacred. This much I add. No king -that ever sat on a throne, though backed by autocratic power, would have -dared to subject his kingdom to the strain, and his people to the burden -that the North put on the prostrate, impoverished, and helpless South -when it enfranchised the body of our late slaves. We would not undo this -if we could. We know that this step, though taken in haste, shall never -be retraced. Posterity will judge of the wisdom and patriotism in which -it was ordered, and the order and equity in which it was worked out. - -To that judgment we appeal with confidence. From that judgment Mr. -Blaine has already appealed by shrewdly urging in his written history, -that the North did not intend to enfranchise the negro, but was forced -to do it by the stubborn attitude of the South. Be that as it may, it is -our problem now, and with resolute hands and unfailing hearts we must -carry it to the end. It dominates, and will dominate, all other issues -with us. Political spoils are not to be considered. The administration -of our affairs is secondary, and patronage is less. Economic issues are -as naught, and even great moral reforms must wait on the settlement of -this question. To quarrel over other issues while this is impending is -to imitate the mother quail that thrums the leaves afar from her nest, -or recall the finesse of the Spartan boy who smiled in his mother’s face -while he hid the fox that was gnawing at his vitals. - -What then is the duty of the South? Simply this. To maintain the -political as well as the social integrity of her white race, and to -appeal to the world for patience and justice. Let us show that it is not -sectional prejudice, but a sectional problem that keeps us compacted; -that it is not the hope of dominion or power, but an abiding -necessity—not spoils or patronage, but plain self-preservation that -holds the white race together in the South. Let us make this so plain -that a community anywhere, searching its own heart, would say: “The -necessity that binds our brothers in the South would bind us as closely -were the necessity here.” Let us invite immigrants and meet them with -such cordial welcome that they will abide with us in brotherhood, and so -enlarge the body of intelligence and integrity, that divided it may -carry the burden of ignorance without danger. Let us be loyal to the -Union, and not only loyal but loving. Let the republic know that in -peace it hath nowhere better citizens, nor in war braver soldiers, than -in these States. Though set apart by this problem which God permits to -rest upon us, and which therefore is right, let us garner our sheaves -gladly into the harvest of the Union, and find joy in our work and -progress, because it makes broader the glory and deeper the majesty of -this republic that is cemented with our blood. Let us love the flag that -waved over Marion and Jasper, that waves over us, and which when we are -gathered to our fathers shall be a guarantee of liberty and prosperity -to our children, and our children’s children, and know that what we do -in honor shall deepen, and what we do in dishonor shall dim, the luster -of its fixed and glittering stars. - -As for the negro, let us impress upon him what he already knows, that -his best friends are the people among whom he lives, whose interests are -one with his, and whose prosperity depends on his perfect contentment. -Let us give him his uttermost rights, and measure out justice to him in -that fullness the strong should always give to the weak. Let us educate -him that he may be a better, a broader, and more enlightened man. Let us -lead him in steadfast ways of citizenship, that he may not longer be the -sport of the thoughtless, and the prey of the unscrupulous. Let us -inspire him to follow the example of the worthy and upright of his race, -who may be found in every community, and who increase steadily in -numbers and influence. Let us strike hands with him as friends—and as in -slavery we led him to heights which his race in Africa had never -reached, so in freedom let us lead him to a prosperity of which his -friends in the North have not dreamed. Let us make him know that he, -depending more than any other on the protection and bounty of -government, shall find in alliance with the best elements of the whites -the pledge of safe and impartial administration. And let us remember -this—that whatever wrong we put on him shall return to punish us. -Whatever we take from him in violence, that is unworthy and shall not -endure. What we steal from him in fraud, that is worse. But what we win -from him in sympathy and affection, what we gain in his confiding -alliance and confirm in his awakening judgment, that is precious and -shall endure—and out of it shall come healing and peace. - -What is the attitude of the North on this issue? Two propositions appear -to be universally declared by the Republicans. First, that the negro -vote of the South is suppressed by violence, or miscounted by fraud. -Second, that it shall be freely cast and fairly counted. While -Republicans agree on these declarations, there are those who hold them -sincerely, but would be glad to see the first disapproved, and the -second thereby wiped out—and those who hold them in malignity, and who -will maintain the first that they may justify the storm that lies hid in -the second. - -Let us send to-day a few words to the fair-minded Republicans of the -North. Here is a fundamental assertion—the negroes of the South can -never be kept in antagonism with their white neighbors—for the intimacy -and friendliness of the relation forbids. This friendliness, the most -important factor of the problem—the saving factor now as always—the -North has never, and it appears will never, take account of. It explains -that otherwise inexplicable thing—the fidelity and loyalty of the negro -during the war to the women and children left in his care. Had Uncle -Tom’s Cabin portrayed the habit rather than the exception of slavery, -the return of the Confederate armies could not have stayed the horrors -of arson and murder their departure would have invited. Instead of that, -witness the miracle of the slave in loyalty closing the fetters about -his own limbs—maintaining the families of those who fought against his -freedom—and at night on the far-off battle-field searching among the -carnage for his young master, that he might lift the dying head to his -humble breast and with rough hands wipe the blood away, and bend his -tender ear to catch the last words for the old ones at home, wrestling -meanwhile in agony and love, that in vicarious sacrifice he would have -laid down his life in his master’s stead. This friendliness, thank God, -has survived the lapse of years, the interruption of factions, and the -violence of campaigns, in which the bayonet fortified, and the drum-beat -inspired. Though unsuspected in slavery, it explains the miracle of -’64—though not yet confessed, it must explain the miracle of 1888. - -Can a Northern man dealing with casual servants, querulous, sensitive, -and lodged for a day in a sphere they resent, understand the close -relations of the races of the South? Can he comprehend the open-hearted, -sympathetic negro, contented in his place, full of gossip and -comradeship, the companion of the hunt, the frolic, the furrow, and the -home, standing in kindly dependence that is the habit of his blood, and -lifting not his eyes beyond the narrow horizon that shuts him in with -his neighbors? This relation may be interrupted, but permanent -estrangement can never come between these two races. It is upon this -that the South depends. By fair dealing and by sympathy to deepen this -friendship and add thereto the moral effect of the better elements -compacted, with the wealth and intelligence and influence lodged -therein—it is this upon which the South has relied for years, and upon -which she will rest in future. - -Against this no outside power can prevail. That there has been violence -is admitted. There has also been brutality in the North. But I do not -believe there was a negro voter in the South kept away from the polls by -fear of violence in the late election. I believe there were fewer votes -miscounted in the South than in the North. Even in those localities -where violence once occurred, wiser counsels have prevailed, and -reliance is placed on those higher and legitimate and inexorable methods -by which the superior race always dominates, and by which intelligence -and integrity always resist the domination of ignorance and corruption. -If the honest Republicans of the North permit a scheme of federal -supervision, based on the assumption of intimidated voters and a false -count, they will blunder from the start, for, beginning in error, they -will end in worse. This whole matter should be left now with the people, -with whom it must be left at last—that people most interested in its -honorable settlement. External pressure but irritates and delays. The -South has voluntarily laid down the certainty of power which dividing -her States would bring, that she might solve this problem in the -deliberation and the calmness it demands. She turns away from spoils, -knowing that to struggle for them would bring irritation to endanger -greater things. She postpones reforms and surrenders economic -convictions, that unembarrassed she may deal with this great issue. And -she pledges her sacred honor—by all that she has won, and all that she -has suffered—that she will settle this problem in such full and exact -justice as the finite mind can measure, or finite hands administer. On -this pledge she asks the patience and waiting judgment of the world, and -especially of the people—her brothers and her kindred—that in passion -forced this problem into the keeping of her helpless hands. - -Shall she have it? - -Let us see. Was there a pistol shot through the South on election day? -Was there a riot? Was there anything to equal the disturbance and -arrests in President Harrison’s own city? If so, diligent search has not -found it. Where then was the vote suppressed through violence? In the -12,000 election precincts of the South, where was a ballot-box rifled, -or a registry list altered? Thirteen Republican congressmen were -elected, many of them by majorities so slender that the vote of a single -precinct would have changed the result. In West Virginia, with its wild -and lawless districts, the governorship hangs on less than three hundred -votes, and this very day the governor of Tennessee and his cabinet are -passing on a legal question in the casting of twenty-three votes that -elects or defeats a congressman. In West Virginia and in Tennessee the -law will be applied as impartially and the official vote held as sacred -as in New York or Ohio. Where, then, is the wholesale fraud of which -complaint is made? - -In the face of this showing, let me quote from an editorial in the -_Chicago Tribune_, one of the most powerful and a usually conservative -journal, charging that the negro vote is suppressed and miscounted. It -says: - - - “The trouble is, the blacks will not fight for themselves. White - men, or Indians, situated as the negroes, would have made the - rivers of the South run red with blood before they would submit - to the usurpations and wrongs with which the black passively - endure. Oppressed by generations of slavery, the negroes are - non-combatants. They will not shoot and burn for their rights.” - - -Mark the unspeakable infamy of this suggestion. The “trouble” is that -the negroes will not rise and shoot and burn. Not the “mercy” is that -they do not—but the “mercy” is that they will not massacre and begin the -strife that would repeat the horrors of Hayti in the various States of -this Republic. Burn and shoot for what? That they may vote in Georgia, -where in front of me in the line stood a negro, whose place was as -sacred as mine, and whose vote as safely counted? That they may vote in -the thirteen districts in which they have elected their congressmen?—in -the 320 counties in which they have elected their representatives, and -in old Virginia, where they came within 1400 votes of carrying the -State? - -As the 60,000 Virginia negroes who did vote did so in admitted peace and -safety, where was the violence that prevented the needed 1400 from -leaving their fields, coming to the ballot-box, and giving the State to -the Republicans? And yet slavery itself, in which the selling of a child -from its mother’s arms and a wife from her husband was permitted, never -brought into reputable print so villainous a suggestion as this, leveled -by a knave at a political condition which he views from afar, and which -it is proved does not exist. To pass by the man who wrote these words, -how shall we judge the temper of a community in which they are -applauded? Are these men blood of our blood that they permit such things -to go unchallenged? Better that they had refused us parole at Appomattox -and had confiscated the ruins of our homes, than twenty years later to -bring us under the dominion of such passion as this. Hear another -witness, General Sherman, not in hot speech but in cold print: - - - “The negro must be allowed to vote, and his vote must be - counted, otherwise, so sure as there is a God in heaven, you - will have another war, more cruel than the last, when the torch - and dagger will take the place of the muskets of well-ordered - battalions. Should the negro strike that blow, in seeming - justice, there will be millions to assist them.” - - -And this is the greatest living soldier of the Union army. He covered -the desolation he sowed in city and country through these States with -the maxim that “cruelty in war, is mercy”—and no one lifted the cloak. -But when he insults the men he conquered, and endangers the renewing -growth of the country he wasted, with this unmanly threat, he puts a -stain on his name the maxims of philosophy and fable from Socrates all -the way cannot cover, and the glory of Marlborough, were it added to his -own, could not efface. - -No answer can be made in passion to these men. If the temper of the -North is expressed in their words, the South can do nothing but rally -her sons for their last defense and await in silence what the future may -bring forth. This much should be said: The negro can never be -established in dominion over the white race of the South. The sword of -Grant and the bayonets of his army could not maintain them in the -supremacy they had won from the helplessness of our people. No sword -drawn by mortal man, no army martialed by mortal hand, can replace them -in the supremacy from which they were cast down by our people, for the -Lord God Almighty decreed otherwise when he created these races, and the -flaming sword of his archangel will enforce his decree and work out his -plan of unchangeable wisdom. - -I do not believe the people of the North will be committed to a violent -policy. I believe in the good faith and fair play of the American -people. These noisy insects of the hour will perish with the heat that -warmed them into life, and when their pestilent cries have ceased, the -great clock of the Republic will strike the slow-moving and tranquil -hours, and the watchmen from the streets will cry, “All’s well—all’s -well!” I thank God that through the mists of passion that already cloud -our northern horizon comes the clear, strong voice of President Harrison -declaring that the South shall not suffer, but shall prosper, in his -election. Happy will it be for us—happy for this country, and happy for -his name and fame, if he has the courage to withstand the demagogues who -clamor for our crucifixion, and the wisdom to establish a path in which -voters of all parties and of all sections may walk together in peace and -prosperity. - -Should the President yield to the demands of the pestilent, the country -will appeal from his decision. In Indiana and New York more than two -million votes were cast. By less than 16,000 majority these States were -given to Harrison, and his election thereby secured. A change of less -than ten thousand in this enormous poll would restore the Democratic -party to power. If President Harrison permits this unrighteous crusade -on the peace of the South, and the prosperity of the people, this change -and more will be made, and the Democratic party restored to power. - -In her industrial growth the South is daily making new friends. Every -dollar of Northern money invested in the South gives us a new friend in -that section. Every settler among us raises up new witnesses to our -fairness, sincerity and loyalty. We shall secure from the North more -friendliness and sympathy, more champions and friends, through the -influence of our industrial growth, than through political aspiration or -achievement. Few men can comprehend—would that I had the time to dwell -on this point to-day—how vast has been the development, how swift the -growth, and how deep and enduring is laid the basis of even greater -growth in the future. Companies of immigrants sent down from the sturdy -settlers of the North will solve the Southern problem, and bring this -section into full and harmonious relations with the North quicker than -all the battalions that could be armed and martialed could do. - -The tide of immigration is already springing this way. Let us encourage -it. But let us see that these immigrants come in well-ordered -procession, and not pell-mell. That they come as friends and -neighbors—to mingle their blood with ours, to build their homes on our -fields, to plant their Christian faith on these red hills, and not -seeking to plant strange heresies of government and faith, but, honoring -our constitution and reverencing our God, to confirm, and not estrange, -the simple faith in which we have been reared, and which we should -transmit unsullied to our children. - -It may be that the last hope of saving the old-fashioned on this -continent will be lodged in the South. Strange admixtures have brought -strange results in the North. The anarchist and atheist walk abroad in -the cities, and, defying government, deny God. Culture has refined for -itself new and strange religions from the strong old creeds. - -The old-time South is fading from observance, and the mellow -church-bells that called the people to the temples of God are being -tabooed and silenced. Let us, my countrymen, here to-day—yet a -homogeneous and God-fearing people—let us highly resolve that we will -carry untainted the straight and simple faith—that we will give -ourselves to the saving of the old-fashioned, that we will wear in our -hearts the prayers we learned at our mother’s knee, and seek no better -faith than that which fortified her life through adversity, and led her -serene and smiling through the valley of the shadow. - -Let us keep sacred the Sabbath of God in its purity, and have no city so -great, or village so small, that every Sunday morning shall not stream -forth over towns and meadows the golden benediction of the bells, as -they summon the people to the churches of their fathers, and ring out in -praise of God and the power of His might. Though other people are led -into the bitterness of unbelief, or into the stagnation of apathy and -neglect—let us keep these two States in the current of the sweet -old-fashioned, that the sweet rushing waters may lap their sides, and -everywhere from their soil grow the tree, the leaf whereof shall not -fade and the fruit whereof shall not die, but the fruit whereof shall be -meat, and the leaf whereof shall be healing. - -In working out our civil, political, and religious salvation, everything -depends on the union of our people. The man who seeks to divide them now -in the hour of their trial, that man puts ambition before patriotism. A -distinguished gentleman said that “certain upstarts and speculators were -seeking to create a new South to the derision and disparagement of the -old,” and rebukes them for so doing. These are cruel and unjust words. -It was Ben Hill—the music of whose voice hath not deepened, though now -attuned to the symphonies of the skies—who said: “There was a South of -secession and slavery—that South is dead; there is a South of union and -freedom—that South, thank God, is living, growing, every hour.” - -It was he who named the New South. One of the “upstarts” said in a -speech in New York: “In answering the toast to the New South, I accept -that name in no disparagement to the Old South. Dear to me, sir, is the -home of my childhood and the traditions of my people, and not for the -glories of New England history from Plymouth Rock all the way, would I -surrender the least of these. Never shall I do, or say, aught to dim the -luster of the glory of my ancestors, won in peace and war.” - -Where is the young man in the South who has spoken one word in -disparagement of our past, or has worn lightly the sacred traditions of -our fathers? The world has not equaled the unquestioning reverence and -undying loyalty of the young man of the South to the memory of our -fathers. History has not equaled the cheerfulness and heroism with which -they bestirred themselves amid the poverty that was their legacy, and -holding the inspiration of their past to be better than rich acres and -garnered wealth, went out to do their part in rebuilding the fallen -fortunes of the South and restoring her fields to their pristine beauty. -Wherever they have driven—in marketplace, putting youth against -experience, poverty against capital—in the shop earning in the light of -their forges and the sweat of their faces the bread and meat for those -dependent upon them—in the forum, eloquent by instinct, able though -unlettered—on the farm, locking the sunshine in their harvests and -spreading the showers on their fields—everywhere my heart has been with -them, and I thank God that they are comrades and countrymen of mine. I -have stood with them shoulder to shoulder as they met new conditions -without surrendering old faiths—and I have been content to feel the -grasp of their hands and the throb of their hearts, and hear the music -of their quick step as they marched unfearing into new and untried ways. -If I should attempt to prostitute the generous enthusiasm of these my -comrades to my own ambition, I should be unworthy. If any man enwrapping -himself in the sacred memories of the Old South, should prostitute them -to the hiding of his weakness, or the strengthening of his failing -fortunes, that man would be unworthy. If any man for his own advantage -should seek to divide the old South from the new, or the new from the -old—to separate these that in love hath been joined together—to estrange -the son from his father’s grave and turn our children from the monuments -of our dead, to embitter the closing days of our veterans with suspicion -of the sons who shall follow them—this man’s words are unworthy and are -spoken to the injury of his people. - -Some one has said in derision that the old men of the South, sitting -down amid their ruins, reminded him “of the Spanish hidalgos sitting in -the porches of the Alhambra, and looking out to sea for the return of -the lost Armada.” There is pathos but no derision in this picture to me. -These men were our fathers. Their lives were stainless. Their hands were -daintily cast, and the civilization they builded in tender and engaging -grace hath not been equaled. The scenes amid which they moved, as -princes among men, have vanished forever. A grosser and material day has -come, in which their gentle hands could garner but scantily, and their -guileless hearts fend but feebly. Let them sit, therefore, in the -dismantled porches of their homes, into which dishonor hath never -entered, to which discourtesy is a stranger—and gaze out to the sea, -beyond the horizon of which their armada has drifted forever. And though -the sea shall not render back for them the Arguses that went down in -their ship, let us build for them in the land they love so well a -stately and enduring temple—its pillars founded in justice, its arches -springing to the skies, its treasuries filled with substance; liberty -walking in its corridors; art adorning its walls; religion filling its -aisles with incense,—and here let them rest in honorable peace and -tranquillity until God shall call them hence to “a house not made with -hands, eternal in the heavens.” - -There are other things I wish to say to you to-day, my countrymen, but -my voice forbids. I thank you for your courteous and patient attention. -And I pray to God—who hath led us through sorrow and travail—that on -this day of universal thanksgiving, when every Christian heart in this -audience is uplifted in praise, that He will open the gates of His glory -and bend down above us in mercy and love! And that these people who have -given themselves unto Him, and who wear His faith in their hearts, that -He will lead them even as little children are led—that He will deepen -their wisdom with the ambition of His words—that He will turn them from -error with the touch of His almighty hand—that he will crown all their -triumphs with the light of His approving smile, and into the heart of -their troubles, whether of people or state, that He will pour the -healing of His mercy and His grace. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - AGAINST CENTRALIZATION. - - ------- - -ADDRESS DELIVERED BEFORE THE SOCIETIES OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA, - JUNE 25, 1889. - - -MR. PRESIDENT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: In thanking you for this -cordial—this Virginia—welcome, let me say that it satisfies my heart to -be with you to-day. This is my alma mater. Kind, in the tolerant -patience with which she winnowed the chaff of idle days and idler nights -that she might find for me the grain of knowledge and of truth, and in -the charity with which she sealed in sorrow rather than in anger my -brief but stormy career within these walls. Kinder yet, that her old -heart has turned lovingly after the lapse of twenty years to her -scapegrace son in a distant State, and recalling him with this honorable -commission, has summoned him to her old place at her knees. Here at her -feet, with the glory of her presence breaking all about me, let me -testify that the years have but deepened my reverence and my love, and -my heart has owned the magical tenderness of the emotions first kindled -amid these sacred scenes. That which was unworthy has faded—that which -was good has abided. Faded the memory of the tempestuous dyke and the -riotous kalathump—dimmed the memory of that society, now happily -extinct, but then famous as “The Nippers from Peru”—forgotten even the -glad exultation of those days when the neighboring mountaineer in the -pride of his breezy heights brought down the bandaged bear to give -battle to the urban dog. Forgotten all these follies, and let us hope -forgiven. But, enduring in heart and in brain, the exhaustless splendor -of those golden days—the deep and pure inspiration of these academic -shades—the kindly admonition and wisdom of the masters—the generous -ardor of our mimic contests—and that loving comradeship that laughed at -separation and has lived beyond the grave. Enduring and hallowed, -blessed be God, the strange and wild ambitions that startled my boyish -heart as amid these dim corridors, oh! my mother, the stirring of unseen -wings in thy mighty past caught my careless ear, and the dazzling ideals -of thy future were revealed to my wondering sight. - -Gentlemen of the literary societies—I have no studied oration for you -to-day. A life busy beyond its capacities has given scanty time for -preparation. But from a loving heart I shall speak to you this morning -in comradely sympathy of that which concerns us nearly. - -Will you allow me to say that the anxiety that always possesses me when -I address my young countrymen is to-day quickened to the point of -consecration. For the first time in man’s responsibility I speak in -Virginia to Virginia. Beyond its ancient glories that made it matchless -among States, its later martyrdom has made it the Mecca of my people. It -was on these hills that our fathers gave new and deeper meaning to -heroism, and advanced the world in honor! It is in these valleys that -our dead lie sleeping. Out there is Appomattox, where on every ragged -gray cap the Lord God Almighty laid the sword of His imperishable -knighthood. Beyond is Petersburg, where he whose name I bear, and who -was prince to me among men, dropped his stainless sword and yielded up -his stainless life. Dear to me, sir, are the people among whom my father -died—sacred to me, sir, the soil that drank his precious blood. From a -heart stirred by these emotions and sobered by these memories, let me -speak to you to-day, my countrymen—and God give me wisdom to speak -aright and the words wherewithal to challenge and hold your attention. - -We are standing in the daybreak of the second century of this Republic. -The fixed stars are fading from the sky, and we grope in uncertain -light. Strange shapes have come with the night. Established ways are -lost—new roads perplex, and widening fields stretch beyond the sight. -The unrest of dawn impels us to and fro—but Doubt stalks amid the -confusion, and even on the beaten paths the shifting crowds are halted, -and from the shadows the sentries cry: “Who comes there?” In the -obscurity of the morning tremendous forces are at work. Nothing is -steadfast or approved. The miracles of the present belie the simple -truths of the past. The church is besieged from without and betrayed -from within. Behind the courts smoulders the rioter’s torch and looms -the gibbet of the anarchists. Government is the contention of partisans -and the prey of spoilsmen. Trade is restless in the grasp of monopoly, -and commerce shackled with limitation. The cities are swollen and the -fields are stripped. Splendor streams from the castle, and squalor -crouches in the home. The universal brotherhood is dissolving, and the -people are huddling into classes. The hiss of the Nihilist disturbs the -covert, and the roar of the mob murmurs along the highway. Amid it all -beats the great American heart undismayed, and standing fast by the -challenge of his conscience, the citizen of the Republic, tranquil and -resolute, notes the drifting of the spectral currents, and calmly awaits -the full disclosures of the day. - -Who shall be the heralds of this coming day? Who shall thread the way of -honor and safety through these besetting problems? Who shall rally the -people to the defense of their liberties and stir them until they shall -cry aloud to be led against the enemies of the Republic? You, my -countrymen, you! The university is the training camp of the future. The -scholar the champion of the coming years. Napoleon over-ran Europe with -drum-tap and bivouac—the next Napoleon shall form his battalions at the -tap of the schoolhouse bell and his captains shall come with cap and -gown. Waterloo was won at Oxford—Sedan at Berlin. So Germany plants her -colleges in the shadow of the French forts, and the professor smiles -amid his students as he notes the sentinel stalking against the sky. The -farmer has learned that brains mix better with his soil than the waste -of seabirds, and the professor walks by his side as he spreads the -showers in the verdure of his field, and locks the sunshine in the glory -of his harvest. A button is pressed by a child’s finger and the work of -a million men is done. The hand is nothing—the brain everything. -Physical prowess has had its day and the age of reason has come. The -lion-hearted Richard challenging Saladin to single combat is absurd, for -even Gog and Magog shall wage the Armageddon from their closets and look -not upon the blood that runs to the bridle-bit. Science is everything! -She butchers a hog in Chicago, draws Boston within three hours of New -York, renews the famished soil, routs her viewless bondsmen from the -electric center of the earth, and then turns to watch the new Icarus as -mounting in his flight to the sun he darkens the burnished ceiling of -the sky with the shadow of his wing. - -Learning is supreme and you are its prophets. Here the Olympic games of -the Republic—and you its chosen athletes. It is yours then to grapple -with these problems, to confront and master these dangers. Yours to -decide whether the tremendous forces of this Republic shall be kept in -balance, or whether unbalanced they shall bring chaos; whether -60,000,000 men are capable of self-government, or whether liberty shall -be lost to them who would give their lives to maintain it. Your -responsibility is appalling. You stand in the pass behind which the -world’s liberties are guarded. This government carries the hopes of the -human race. Blot out the beacon that lights the portals of this Republic -and the world is adrift again. But save the Republic; establish the -light of its beacon over the troubled waters, and one by one the nations -of the earth shall drop anchor and be at rest in the harbor of universal -liberty. Let one who loves this Republic as he loves his life, and whose -heart is thrilled with the majesty of its mission, speak to you now of -the dangers that threaten its peace and prosperity, and the means by -which they may be honorably averted. - -The unmistakable danger that threatens free government in America, is -the increasing tendency to concentrate in the Federal government powers -and privileges that should be left with the States, and to create powers -that neither the State nor Federal government should have. Let it be -understood at once that in discussing this question I seek to revive no -dead issue. We know precisely what was put to the issue of the sword, -and what was settled thereby. The right of a State to leave this Union -was denied and the denial made good forever. But the sovereignty of the -States in the Union was never involved, and the Republic that survived -the storm was, in the words of the Supreme Court, “an indissoluble Union -of indestructible States.” Let us stand on this decree and turn our -faces to the future! - -It is not strange that there should be a tendency to centralization in -our government. This disposition was the legacy of the war. Steam and -electricity have emphasized it by bringing the people closer together. -The splendor of a central government dazzles the unthinking—its opulence -tempts the poor and the avaricious—its strength assures the rich and the -timid—its patronage incites the spoilsmen and its powers inflame the -partisan. - -And so we have paternalism run mad. The merchant asks the government to -control the arteries of trade—the manufacturer asks that his product be -protected—the rich asks for an army, and the unfortunate for help—this -man for schools and that for subsidy. The partisan proclaims, amid the -clamor, that the source of largess must be the seat of power, and -demands that the ballot-boxes of the States be hedged by Federal -bayonets. The centrifugal force of our system is weakened, the -centripetal force is increased, and the revolving spheres are veering -inward from their orbits. There are strong men who rejoice in this -unbalancing and deliberately contend that the center is the true -repository of power and source of privilege—men who, were they charged -with the solar system, would shred the planets into the sun, and, -exulting in the sudden splendor, little reck that they had kindled the -conflagration that presages universal nights! Thus the States are -dwarfed and the nation magnified—and to govern a people, who can best -govern themselves, the central authority is made stronger and more -splendid! - -Concurrent with this political drift is another movement, less formal -perhaps, but not less dangerous—the consolidation of capital. I hesitate -to discuss this phase of the subject, for of all men I despise most -cordially the demagogue who panders to the prejudice of the poor by -abuse of the rich. But no man can note the encroachment in this country -of what may be called “the money power” on the rights of the individual, -without feeling that the time is approaching when the issue between -plutocracy and the people will be forced to trial. The world has not -seen, nor has the mind of man conceived of such miraculous -wealth-gathering as are every-day tales to us. Aladdin’s lamp is dimmed, -and Monte Cristo becomes commonplace when compared to our magicians of -finance and trade. The seeds of a luxury that even now surpasses that of -Rome or Corinth, and has only yet put forth its first flowers, are sown -in this simple republic. What shall the full fruitage be? I do not -denounce the newly rich. For most part their money came under forms of -law. The irresponsibilities of sudden wealth is in many cases steadied -by that resolute good sense which seems to be an American heritage, and -under-run by careless prodigality or by constant charity. Our great -wealth has brought us profit and splendor. But the status itself is a -menace. A home that costs $3,000,000 and a breakfast that cost $5000 are -disquieting facts to the millions who live in a hut and dine on a crust. -The fact that a man ten years from poverty has an income of -$20,000,000—and his two associates nearly as much—from the control and -arbitrary pricing of an article of universal use, falls strangely on the -ears of those who hear it, as they sit empty-handed, while children cry -for bread. The tendency deepens the dangers suggested by the status. -What is to be the end of this swift piling up of wealth? Twenty years -ago but few cities had their millionaires. To-day almost every town has -its dozen. Twenty men can be named who can each buy a sovereign State at -its tax-book value. The youngest nation, America, is vastly the richest, -and in twenty years, in spite of war, has nearly trebled her wealth. -Millions are made on the turn of a trade, and the toppling mass grows -and grows, while in its shadow starvation and despair stalk among the -people, and swarm with increasing legions against the citadels of human -life. - -But the abuse of this amazing power of consolidated wealth is its -bitterest result and its pressing danger. When the agent of a dozen men, -who have captured and control an article of prime necessity, meets the -representatives of a million farmers from whom they have forced -$3,000,000 the year before, with no more moral right than is behind the -highwayman who halts the traveler at his pistol’s point, and insolently -gives them the measure of this year’s rapacity, and tells them—men who -live in the sweat of their brows, and stand between God and Nature—that -they must submit to the infamy because they are helpless, then the first -fruits of this system are gathered and have turned to ashes on the lips. -When a dozen men get together in the morning and fix the price of a -dozen articles of common use—with no standard but their arbitrary will, -and no limit but their greed or daring—and then notify the sovereign -people of this free Republic how much, in the mercy of their masters, -they shall pay for the necessaries of life—then the point of intolerable -shame has been reached. - -We have read of the robber barons of the Rhine who from their castles -sent a shot across the bow of every passing craft, and descending as -hawks from the crags, tore and robbed and plundered the voyagers until -their greed was glutted, or the strength of their victims spent. Shall -this shame of Europe against which the world revolted, shall it be -repeated in this free country? And yet, when a syndicate or a trust can -arbitrarily add twenty-five per cent. to the cost of a single article of -common use, and safely gather forced tribute from the people, until from -its surplus it could buy every castle on the Rhine, or requite every -baron’s debauchery from its kitchen account—where is the difference—save -that the castle is changed to a broker’s office, and the picturesque -river to the teeming streets and the broad fields of this government “of -the people, by the people, and for the people”? I do not overstate the -case. Economists have held that wheat, grown everywhere, could never be -cornered by capital. And yet one man in Chicago tied the wheat crop in -his handkerchief, and held it until a sewing-woman in my city, working -for ninety cents a week, had to pay him twenty cents tax on the sack of -flour she bore home in her famished hands. Three men held the cotton -crop until the English spindles were stopped and the lights went out in -3,000,000 English homes. Last summer one man cornered pork until he had -levied a tax of $3 per barrel on every consumer, and pocketed a profit -of millions. The Czar of Russia would not have dared to do these things. -And yet they are no secrets in this free government of ours! They are -known of all men, and, my countrymen, no argument can follow them, and -no plea excuse them, when they fall on the men who toiling, yet -suffer—who hunger at their work—and who cannot find food for their wives -with which to feed the infants that hang famishing at their breasts. Mr. -Jefferson foresaw this danger and he sought to avert it. When Virginia -ceded the vast Northwest to the government—before the Constitution was -written—Mr. Jefferson in the second clause of the articles of cession -prohibited forever the right of primogeniture. Virginia then nobly said, -and Georgia in the cession of her territory repeated: “In granting this -domain to the government and dedicating it to freedom, we prescribe that -there shall be no classes in the family—no child set up at the expense -of the others, no feudal estates established—but what a man hath shall -be divided equally among his children.” - -We see this feudal tendency, swept away by Mr. Jefferson, revived by the -conditions of our time, aided by the government with its grant of -enormous powers and its amazing class legislation. It has given the -corporation more power than Mr. Jefferson stripped from the individual, -and has set up a creature without soul or conscience or limit of human -life to establish an oligarchy, unrelieved by human charity and -unsteadied by human responsibility. The syndicate, the trust, the -corporation—these are the eldest sons of the Republic for whom the -feudal right of primogeniture is revived, and who inherit its estate to -the impoverishment of their brothers. Let it be noted that the alliance -between those who would centralize the government and the consolidated -money power is not only close but essential. The one is the necessity of -the other. Establish the money power and there is universal clamor for -strong government. The weak will demand it for protection against the -people restless under oppression—the patriotic for protection against -the plutocracy that scourges and robs—the corrupt hoping to buy of one -central body distant from local influences what they could not buy from -the legislatures of the States sitting at their homes—the oligarchs will -demand it—as the privileged few have always demanded it—for the -protection of their privileges and the perpetuity of their bounty. Thus, -hand in hand, will walk—as they have always walked—the federalist and -the capitalist, the centralist and the monopolist—the strong government -protecting the money power, and the money power the political standing -army of the government. Hand in hand, compact and organized, one -creating the necessity, the other meeting it; consolidated wealth and -centralizing government; stripping the many of their rights and -aggrandizing the few; distrusting the people but in touch with the -plutocrats; striking down local self-government and dwarfing the -citizens—and at last confronting the people in the market, in the -courts, at the ballot box—everywhere—with the infamous challenge: “What -are you going to do about it?” And so the government protects and the -barons oppress, and the people suffer and grow strong. And when the -battle for liberty is joined—the centralist and the plutocrat, -entrenched behind the deepening powers of the government, and the -countless ramparts of money bags, oppose to the vague but earnest onset -of the people the power of the trained phalanx and the conscienceless -strength of the mercenary. - -Against this tendency who shall protest? Those who believe that a -central government means a strong government, and a strong government -means repression—those who believe that this vast Republic, with its -diverse interests and its local needs, can better be governed by liberty -and enlightenment diffused among the people than by powers and -privileges congested at the center—those who believe that the States -should do nothing that the people can do themselves and the government -nothing that the States and the people can do—those who believe that the -wealth of the central government is a crime rather than a virtue, and -that every dollar not needed for its economical administration should be -left with the people of the States—those who believe that the -hearthstone of the home is the true altar of liberty and the enlightened -conscience of the citizen the best guarantee of government! Those of you -who note the farmer sending his sons to the city that they may escape -the unequal burdens under which he has labored, thus diminishing the -rural population whose leisure, integrity and deliberation have -corrected the passion and impulse and corruption of the cities—who note -that while the rich are growing richer, and the poor poorer, we are -lessening that great middle class that, ever since it met the returning -crusaders in England with the demand that the hut of the humble should -be as sacred as the castle of the great, has been the bulwark and glory -of every English-speaking community—who know that this Republic, which -we shall live to see with 150,000,000 people, stretching from ocean to -ocean, and almost from the arctic to the torrid zone, cannot be governed -by any laws that a central despotism could devise or controlled by any -armies it could marshal—you who know these things protest with all the -earnestness of your souls against the policy and the methods that make -them possible. - -What is the remedy? To exalt the hearthstone—to strengthen the home—to -build up the individual—to magnify and defend the principle of local -self-government. Not in deprecation of the Federal government, but to -its glory—not to weaken the Republic, but to strengthen it—not to check -the rich blood that flows to its heart, but to send it full and -wholesome from healthy members rather than from withered and diseased -extremities. - -The man who kindles the fire on the hearthstone of an honest and -righteous home burns the best incense to liberty. He does not love -mankind less who loves his neighbor most. George Eliot has said: - - - “A human life should be well rooted in some spot of a native - land where it may get the love of tender kinship for the face of - the earth, for the sounds and accents that haunt it, a spot - where the definiteness of early memories may be inwrought with - affection, and spread, not by sentimental effort and reflection, - but as a sweet habit of the blest.” - - -The germ of the best patriotism is in the love that a man has for the -home he inhabits, for the soil he tills, for the trees that gives him -shade, and the hills that stand in his pathway. I teach my son to love -Georgia—to love the soil that he stands on—the body of my old mother—the -mountains that are her springing breasts, the broad acres that hold her -substance, the dimpling valleys in which her beauty rests, the forests -that sing her songs of lullaby and of praise, and the brooks that run -with her rippling laughter. The love of home—deep rooted and -abiding—that blurs the eyes of the dying soldier with the vision of an -old homestead amid green fields and clustering trees—that follows the -busy man through the clamoring world, persistent though put aside, and -at last draws his tired feet from the highway and leads him through -shady lanes and well-remembered paths until, amid the scenes of his -boyhood, he gathers up the broken threads of his life and owns the soil -his conqueror—this—this lodged in the heart of the citizen is the saving -principle of our government. We note the barracks of our standing army -with its rolling drum and its fluttering flag as points of strength and -protection. But the citizen standing in the doorway of his -home—contented on his threshold—his family gathered about his -hearthstone—while the evening of a well-spent day closes in scenes and -sounds that are dearest—he shall save the Republic when the drum tap is -futile and the barracks are exhausted. - -This love shall not be pent up or provincial. The home should be -consecrated to humanity, and from its roof-tree should fly the flag of -the Republic. Every simple fruit gathered there—every sacrifice endured, -and every victory won, should bring better joy and inspiration in the -knowledge that it will deepen the glory of our Republic and widen the -harvest of humanity! Be not like the peasant of France who hates the -Paris he cannot comprehend—but emulate the example of your fathers in -the South, who, holding to the sovereignty of the States, yet gave to -the Republic its chief glory of statesmanship, and under Jackson at New -Orleans, and Taylor and Scott in Mexico, saved it twice from the storm -of war. Inherit without fear or shame the principle of local -self-government by which your fathers stood! For though entangled with -an institution foreign to this soil, which, thank God, not planted by -their hands, is now swept away, and with a theory bravely defended but -now happily adjusted—that principle holds the imperishable truth that -shall yet save this Republic. The integrity of the State, its rights and -its powers—these, maintained with firmness, but in loyalty—these shall -yet, by lodging the option of local affairs in each locality, meet the -needs of this vast and complex government, and check the headlong rush -to that despotism that reason could not defend, nor the armies of the -Czar maintain, among a free and enlightened people. This issue is -squarely made! It is centralized government and the money power on the -one hand—against the integrity of the States and rights of the people on -the other. At all hazard, stand with the people and the threatened -States. The choice may not be easily made. Wise men may hesitate and -patriotic men divide. The culture, the strength, the mightiness of the -rich and strong government—these will tempt and dazzle. But be not -misled. Beneath this splendor is the canker of a disturbed and oppressed -people. It was from the golden age of Augustus that the Roman empire -staggered to its fall. The integrity of the States and the rights of the -people! Stand there—there is safety—there is the broad and enduring -brotherhood—there, less of glory, but more of honor! Put patriotism -above partisanship—and wherever the principle that protects the States -against the centralists, and the people against the plutocrats, may -lead, follow without fear or faltering—for there the way of duty and of -wisdom lies! - -Exalt the citizen. As the State is the unit of government he is the unit -of the State. Teach him that his home is his castle, and his sovereignty -rests beneath his hat. Make himself self-respecting, self-reliant and -responsible. Let him lean on the State for nothing that his own arm can -do, and on the government for nothing that his State can do. Let him -cultivate independence to the point of sacrifice, and learn that humble -things with unbartered liberty are better than splendors bought with its -price. Let him neither surrender his individuality to government, nor -merge it with the mob. Let him stand upright and fearless—a freeman born -of freemen—sturdy in his own strength—dowering his family in the sweat -of his brow—loving to his State—loyal to his Republic—earnest in his -allegiance wherever it rests, but building his altar in the midst of his -household gods and shrining in his own heart the uttermost temple of its -liberty. - -Go out, determined to magnify the community in which your lot is cast. -Cultivate its small economies. Stand by its young industries. Commercial -dependence is a chain that galls every day. A factory built at home, a -book published, a shoe or a book made, these are steps in that diffusion -of thought and interest that is needed. Teach your neighbors to withdraw -from the vassalage of distant capitalists, and pay, under any sacrifice, -the mortgage on the home or the land. By simple and prudent lives stay -within your own resources, and establish the freedom of your community. -Make every village and cross-roads as far as may be sovereign to its own -wants. Learn that thriving country-sides with room for limbs, -conscience, and liberty are better than great cities with congested -wealth and population. Preserve the straight and simple homogeneity of -our people. Welcome emigrants, but see that they come as friends and -neighbors, to mingle their blood with ours, to build their houses in our -fields, and to plant their Christian faith on our hills, and honoring -our constitution and reverencing our God, to confirm the simple beliefs -in which we have been reared, and which we should transmit unsullied to -our children. Stand by these old-fashioned beliefs. Science hath -revealed no better faith than that you learned at your mother’s knee—nor -has knowledge made a wiser and a better book than the worn old Bible -that, thumbed by hands long since still, and blurred with the tears of -eyes long since closed, held the simple annals of your family and the -heart and conscience of your homes. - -Honor and emulate the virtues and the faith of your forefathers—who, -learned, were never wise above a knowledge of God and His gospel—who, -great, were never exalted above an humble trust in God and His mercy! - -Let me sum up what I have sought to say in this hurried address. Your -Republic—on the glory of which depends all that men hold dear—is menaced -with great dangers. Against these dangers defend her, as you would -defend the most precious concerns of your own life. Against the dangers -of centralizing all political powers, put the approved and imperishable -principle of local self-government. Between the rich and the poor now -drifting into separate camps, build up the great middle class that, -neither drunk with wealth, nor embittered by poverty, shall lift up the -suffering and control the strong. To the jangling of races and creeds -that threaten the courts of men and the temples of God, oppose the home -and the citizen—a homogeneous and honest people—and the simple faith -that sustained your fathers and mothers in their stainless lives and led -them serene and smiling into the valley of the shadow. - -Let it be understood in my parting words to you that I am no pessimist -as to this Republic. I always bet on sunshine in America. I know that my -country has reached the point of perilous greatness, and that strange -forces not to be measured or comprehended are hurrying her to heights -that dazzle and blind all mortal eyes—but I know that beyond the -uttermost glory is enthroned the Lord God Almighty, and that when the -hour of her trial has come He will lift up His everlasting gates and -bend down above her in mercy and in love. For with her He has surely -lodged the ark of His covenant with the sons of men. Emerson wisely -said, “Our whole history looks like the last effort by Divine Providence -in behalf of the human race.” And the Republic will endure. Centralism -will be checked, and liberty saved—plutocracy overthrown and equality -restored. The struggle for human rights never goes backward among -English-speaking peoples. Our brothers across the sea have fought from -despotism to liberty, and in the wisdom of local self-government have -planted colonies around the world. This very day Mr. Gladstone, the -wisest man that has lived since your Jefferson died—with the light of -another world beating in his face until he seems to have caught the -wisdom of the Infinite and towers half human and half divine from his -eminence—this man, turning away from the traditions of his life, begs -his countrymen to strip the crown of its last usurped authority, and -lodge it with the people, where it belongs. The trend of the times is -with us. The world moves steadily from gloom to brightness. And bending -down humbly as Elisha did, and praying that my eyes shall be made to -see, I catch the vision of this Republic—its mighty forces in balance, -and its unspeakable glory falling on all its children—chief among the -federation of English-speaking people—plenty streaming from its borders, -and light from its mountain tops—working out its mission under God’s -approving eye, until the dark continents are opened—and the highways of -earth established, and the shadows lifted—and the jargon of the nations -stilled and the perplexities of Babel straightened—and under one -language, one liberty, and one God, all the nations of the world -hearkening to the American drum-beat and girding up their loins, shall -march amid the breaking of the millennial dawn into the paths of -righteousness and of peace! - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE FARMER AND THE CITIES. - - ------- - -MR. GRADY’S SPEECH AT ELBERTON, GEORGIA, IN JUNE, 1889. - - -MR. PRESIDENT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN:—For the first time in my life I -address an audience in the open air. And as I stand here in this -beautiful morning, so shot through and through with sunshine that the -very air is as molten gold to the touch—under these trees in whose -trunks the rains and suns of years are compacted, and on whose leaves -God has laid His whispering music—here in His majestic temple, with the -brightness of His smile breaking all about us—standing above the soil -instinct with the touch of His life-giving hand, and full of His promise -and His miracle—and looking up to the clouds through which His thunders -roll, and His lightnings cut their way, and beyond that to the dazzling -glory of the sun, and yet beyond to the unspeakable splendor of the -universe, flashing and paling until the separate stars are but as mist -in the skies—even to the uplifted jasper gates through which His -everlasting glory streams, my mind falls back abashed, and I realize how -paltry is human speech, and how idle are the thoughts of men! - -Another thought oppresses me. In front of me sit several thousand -people. Over there, in smelling distance, where we can almost hear the -lisping of the mop as it caresses the barbecued lamb or the pottering of -the skewered pig as he leisurely turns from fat to crackling, is being -prepared a dinner that I verily believe covers more provisions than were -issued to all the soldiers of Lee’s army, God bless them, in their last -campaign. And I shudder when I think that I, a single, unarmed, -defenseless man, is all that stands between this crowd and that dinner. -Here then, awed by God’s majesty, and menaced by man’s appetite, I am -tempted to leave this platform and yield to the boyish impulses that -always stir in my heart amid such scenes, and revert to the days of -boyhood when about the hills of Athens I chased the pacing coon, or -twisted the unwary rabbit, or shot my ramrod at all manner of birds and -beasts—and at night went home to look up into a pair of gentle eyes and -take on my tired face the benediction of a mother’s kiss and feel on my -weary head a pair of loving hands, now wrinkled and trembling, but, -blessed be God, fairer to me yet than the hands of mortal women, and -stronger yet to lead me than the hands of mortal man, as they laid a -mother’s blessing there, while bending at her knees I made my best -confession of faith and worshiped at the truest altar I have yet found -in this world. I had rather go out and lay down on the ground and hug -the grass to my breast and mind me of the time when I builded boyish -ambitions on the wooded hills of Athens, than do aught else to-day. But -I recall the story of Uncle Remus, who when his favorite hero, Brer -Rabbit, was sorely pressed by that arch villain, Brer Fox, said: - -“An’ Brer Rabbit den he climb’d a tree.” “But,” said the little boy, -“Uncle Remus, a rabbit can’t climb a tree.” - -“Doan you min’ dat, honey. Brer Fox pressed dis rabbit so hard he des -bleeged to clim’ a tree.” - -I am pressed so hard to-day by your commands that I am just “bleeged” to -make a speech, and so I proceed. I heartily invoke God’s guidance in -what I say, that I shall utter no word to soil this temple of His, and -no sentiment not approved in His wisdom; and as for you, when the time -comes—as it will come—when you prefer barbecued shote to raw orator, and -feel that you can be happier at that table than in this forum, just say -the word and I will be with you heart and soul! - -I am tempted to yield to the gaiety of this scene, to the flaunting -banners of the trees, the downpouring sunshine, the garnered plenty over -there, this smiling and hospitable crowd, and, throwing serious affairs -aside, to speak to you to-day as the bird sings—without care and without -thought. I should be false to myself and to you if I did, for there are -serious problems that beset our State and our country that no man, -facing, as I do this morning, a great and intelligent audience, can in -honor or in courage disregard. I shall attempt to make no brilliant -speech—but to counsel with you in plain and simple words, beseeching -your attention and your sympathy as to the dangers of the present hour, -and our duties and our responsibilities. - -At Saturday noon in any part of this county you may note the farmer -going from his field, eating his dinner thoughtfully and then saddling -his plow-horse, or starting afoot and making his way to a neighboring -church or schoolhouse. There he finds from every farm, through every -foot-path, his neighbors gathering to meet him. What is the object of -this meeting? It is not social, it is not frolic, it is not a -pic-nic—the earnest, thoughtful faces, the serious debate and council, -the closed doors and the secret session forbid this assumption. It is a -meeting of men who feel that in spite of themselves their affairs are -going wrong—of free and equal citizens who feel that they carry unequal -burdens—of toilers who feel that they reap not the just fruits of their -toil—of men who feel that their labor enriches others while it leaves -them poor, and that the sweat of their bodies, shed freely under God’s -command, goes to clothe the idle and the avaricious in purple and fine -linen. This is a meeting of protest, of resistance. Here the farmer -meets to demand, and organize that he may enforce his demand, that he -shall stand equal with every other class of citizens—that laws -discriminating against him shall be repealed—that the methods oppressing -him shall be modified or abolished—and that he shall be guaranteed that -neither government nor society shall abridge, by statute or custom, his -just and honest proportion of the wealth he created, but that he shall -be permitted to garner in his barns, and enjoy by his hearthstone, the -full and fair fruits of his labor. If this movement were confined to -Elbert, if this disturbing feeling of discontent were shut in the limits -of your county lines, it would still demand the attention of the -thoughtful and patriotic. But, as it is in Elbert, so it is in every -county in Georgia—as in Georgia, so it is in every State in the South—as -in the South, so in every agricultural State in the Union. In every -rural neighborhood, from Ohio to Texas, from Michigan to Georgia, the -farmers, riding thoughtful through field and meadow, seek ten thousand -schoolhouses or churches—the muster grounds of this new army—and there, -recounting their wrongs and renewing their pledges, send up from -neighborhoods to county, from county to State, and State to Republic, -the measure of their strength and the unyielding quality of their -determination. The agricultural army of the Republic is in motion. The -rallying drumbeat has rolled over field and meadow, and from where the -wheat locks the sunshine in its bearded sheaf, and the clover carpets -the earth, and the cotton whitens beneath the stars, and the tobacco -catches the quick aroma of the rains—everywhere that patient man stands -above the soil, or bends about the furrow, the farmers are ready in -squads and companies and battalions and legions to be led against what -they hold to be an oppression that honest men would not deserve, and -that brave men would not endure. Let us not fail to comprehend the -magnitude and the meaning of this movement. It is no trifling cause that -brings the farmers into such determined and widespread organization as -this. It is not the skillful arts of the demagogue that has brought -nearly two million farmers into this perfect and pledge-bound -society—but it is a deep and abiding conviction that, in political and -commercial economy of the day, he is put at a disadvantage that keeps -him poor while other classes grow rich, and that bars his way to -prosperity and independence. General Toombs once said that the farmer, -considered the most conservative type of citizenship, is really the most -revolutionary. That the farmers of France, flocking to the towns and -cities from the unequal burdens of their farms, brought about the French -Revolution, and that about once in every century the French peasant -raided the towns. Three times the farmers of England have captured and -held London. It was the farmers of Mecklenburg that made the first -American declaration, and Putnam left his plow standing in the furrow as -he hurried to lead the embattled farmers who fought at Concord and -Lexington. I realize it is impossible that revolution should be the -outcome of our industrial troubles. The farmer of to-day does not -consider that remedy for his wrongs. I quote history to show that the -farmer, segregated and deliberate, does not move on slight provocation, -but organizes only under deep conviction, and that when once organized -and convinced, he is terribly in earnest, and is not going to rest until -his wrongs are righted. - -Now, here we are confronted with the most thorough and widespread -agricultural movement of this or any other day. It is the duty alike of -farmers and those who stand in other ranks, to get together and consult -as to what is the real status and what is the patriotic duty. Not in -sullenness, but in frankness. Not as opponents, but as friends—not as -enemies, but as brothers begotten of a common mother, banded in common -allegiance, and marching to a common destiny. It will not do to say that -this organization will pass away, for if the discontent on which it is -based survives it, it had better have lived and forced its wrongs to -final issue. There is no room for divided hearts in this State, or in -this Republic. If we shall restore Georgia to her former greatness and -prosperity—if we shall solve the problems that beset the South in honor -and safety—if we shall save this Republic from the dangers that threaten -it—it will require the earnest and united effort of every patriotic -citizen, be he farmer, or merchant, or lawyer, or manufacturer. Let us -consider then the situation, and decide what is the duty that lies -before us. - -In discussing this matter briefly, I beg the ladies to give me their -attention. I have always believed that there are few affairs of life in -which woman should not have a part. Not obtrusive part—for that is -unwomanly. The work falling best to the hand of woman is such work as is -done by the dews of night—that ride not on the boasting wind, and shine -not in the garish sun, but that come when the wind is stilled and the -sun is gone, and night has wrapped the earth in its sacred hush, and -fall from the distillery of the stars upon the parched and waiting -flowers, as a benediction from God. - -Let no one doubt the power of this work, though it lack pomp and -circumstance. Is Bismarck the mightiest power of this earth, who is -attended by martial strains when he walks abroad, and in whose path -thrones are scattered as trophies? Why, the little housewife alone in -her chimney-corner, musing in her happiness with no trophy in her path -save her husband’s loving heart, and no music on her ear save the -chirping of the cricket beneath her hearthstone, is his superior. For, -while he holds the purse-strings of Germany, she holds the heart-strings -of men. She who rocks the cradle rules the world. Give me then your -attention, note the conflict that is gathering about us, and take your -place with seeming modesty in the ranks of those who fight for right. It -is not an abstract political theory that is involved in the contest of -which I speak. It is the integrity and independence of your home that is -at stake. The battle is not pitched in a distant State. Your home is the -battle-field, and by your hearthstones you shall fight for your -household gods. With your husband’s arms so wound around you that you -can feel his anxious heart beating against your cheek—with your sons, -sturdy and loving, holding your old hands in theirs—here on the -threshold of your house, under the trees that sheltered your babyhood, -with the graves of your dead in that plain enclosure yonder—here men and -women, heart to heart, with not a man dismayed, not a woman idle—while -the multiplied wolves of debt and mortgage, and trust and monopoly, -swarm from every thicket; here we must fight the ultimate battle for the -independence of our people and the happiness of our homes. - -Now let us look at the facts: First, the notable movement of the -population in America is from the country to the cities. In 1840—a -generation ago, only one-twelfth of the American people lived in cities -of more than 8000 people. In 1850, one-eighth; in 1860, one-sixth; in -1870, one-fifth; in 1880, one-fourth. In the past half-century the -population of cities has increased more than four times as rapidly as -that of the country. Mind you, when I say that the city population has -increased in one generation from 8 per cent. to 25 per cent. in -population, I mean the population of cities of more than 8000 people. -There is not such a city in this congressional district. It is the -village and town population, as well as that of the farms, that goes to -swell so enormously the population of the great cities. Thus we see -diminishing with amazing rapidity that rural population that is the -strength and the safety of the people—slow to anger and thus a -safeguard, but terrible in its wrath, and thus a tremendous corrective -power. No greater calamity could befall any country than the sacrifice -of its town and village and country life. I rejoice in Atlanta’s growth, -and yet I wonder whether it is worth what it cost when I know that her -population has been drawn largely from rural Georgia, and that back of -her grandeur are thousands of deserted farms and dismantled homes. As -much as I love her—and she is all to me that home can be to any man—if I -had the disposal of 100,000 immigrants at her gates to-morrow, 5000 -should enter there, 75,000 should be located in the shops and factories -in Georgia towns and villages, and 20,000 sent to her farms. It saddens -me to see a bright young fellow come to my office from village or -country, and I shudder when I think for what a feverish and speculative -and uncertain life he has bartered his rural birthright, and surrendered -the deliberation and tranquillity of his life on the farm. It is just -that deliberate life that this country needs, for the fever of the -cities is already affecting its system. Character, like corn, is dug -from the soil. A contented rural population is not only the measure of -our strength, and an assurance of its peace when there should be peace, -and a resource of courage when peace would be cowardice—but it is the -nursery of the great leaders who have made this country what it is. -Washington was born and lived in the country. Jefferson was a farmer. -Henry Clay rode his horse to the mill in the slashes. Webster dreamed -amid the solitude of Marshfield. Lincoln was a rail splitter. Our own -Hill walked between the handles of the plow. Brown peddled barefoot the -product of his patch. Stephens found immortality under the trees of his -country home. Toombs and Cobb and Calhoun were country gentlemen, and -afar from the cities’ maddening strife established that greatness that -is the heritage of their people. The cities produce very few leaders. -Almost every man in our history formed his character in the leisure and -deliberation of village or country life, and drew his strength from the -drugs of the earth even as a child draws his from his mother’s breast. -In the diminution of this rural population, virtuous and competent, -patriotic and honest, living beneath its own roof-tree, building its -altars by its own hearthstone and shrining in its own heart its liberty -and its conscience, there is abiding cause for regret. In the -corresponding growth of our cities—already center spots of danger, with -their idle classes, their sharp rich and poor, their corrupt politics, -their consorted thieves, and their clubs and societies of anarchy and -socialism—I see a pressing and impending danger. Let it be noted that -the professions are crowded, that middlemen are multiplied beyond -reason, that the factories can in six months supply the demand of -twelve—that machinery is constantly taking the place of men—that labor -in every department bids against itself until it is mercilessly in the -hands of the employer, that the new-comers are largely recruits of the -idle and dangerous classes, and we can appreciate something of the -danger that comes with this increasing movement to strip the villages -and the farms and send an increasing volume into the already overcrowded -cities. This is but one phase of that tendency to centralization and -congestion which is threatening the liberties of this people and the -life of this Republic. - -Now, let us go one step further. What is the most notable financial -movement in America? It is the mortgaging of the farm lands of the -country—the bringing of the farmer into bondage to the money-lender. In -Illinois the farms are mortgaged for $200,000,000, in Iowa for -$140,000,000, in Kansas for $160,000,000, and so on through the -Northwest. In Georgia about $20,000,000 of foreign capital holds in -mortgage perhaps one-fourth of Georgia’s farms, and the work is but -started. Every town has its loan agent—a dozen companies are quartered -in Atlanta, and the work goes briskly on. A mortgage is the bulldog of -obligations—a very mud-turtle for holding on. It is the heaviest thing -of its weight in the world. I had one once, and sometimes I used to -feel, as it rested on my roof, deadening the rain that fell there, and -absorbing the sunshine, that it would crush through the shingles and the -rafters and overwhelm me with its dull and persistent weight, and when -at last I paid it off, I went out to look at the shingles to see if it -had not flopped back there of its own accord. Think of it, Iowa strips -from her farmers $14,000,000 of interest every year, and sends it to New -York and Boston to be reloaned on farms in other States, and to support -and establish the dominion of the money-lenders over the people. Georgia -gathers from her languishing fields $2,000,000 of interest every year, -and sends it away forever. Could her farmers but keep it at home, one -year’s interest would build factories to supply at cost every yard of -bagging and every pound of guano the farmers need, establish her -exchanges and their warehouses, and have left more than a million -dollars for the improvement of their farms and their homes. And year -after year this drain not only continues, but deepens. What will be the -end? Ireland has found it. Her peasants in their mud cabins, sending -every tithe of their earnings to deepen the purple luxury of London, -where their landlords live, realize how poor is that country whose farms -are owned in mortgage or fee simple by those who live beyond its -borders. If every Irish landlord lived on his estate, bought of his -tenants the product of their farms, and invested his rents in Irish -industries, this Irish question that is the shame of the world would be -settled without legislation or strife. Georgia can never go to Ireland’s -degradation, but every Georgia farm put under mortgage to a foreign -capitalist is a step in that direction, and every dollar sent out as -interest leaves the State that much poorer. I do not blame the farmers. -It is a miracle that out of their poverty they have done so well. I -simply deplore the result, and ask you to note in the millions of acres -that annually pass under mortgage to the money-lenders of the East, and -in the thousands of independent country homes annually surrendered as -hostages to their hands, another evidence of that centralization that is -drinking up the life-blood of this broad Republic. - -Let us go one step further. All protest as to our industrial condition -is met with the statement that America is startling the world with its -growth and progress. Is this growth symmetrical—is this progress shared -by every class? Let the tax-books of Georgia answer. This year, for the -first time since 1860, our taxable wealth is equal to that with which, -excluding our slaves, we entered the civil war—$368,000,000. There is -cause for rejoicing in this wonderful growth from the ashes and -desolation of twenty years ago, but the tax-books show that while the -towns and cities are $60,000,000 richer than they were in 1860, the -farmers are $50,000,000 poorer. - -Who produced this wealth? In 1865, when our towns and cities were -paralyzed, when not a mine or quarry was open, hardly a mill or a -factory running; when we had neither money or credit, it was the -farmers’ cotton that started the mills of industry and of trade. Since -that desolate year, when, urging his horse down the furrow, plowing -through fields on which he had staggered amid the storm of battle, he -began the rehabilitation of Georgia with no friend near him save nature -that smiled at his kindly touch, and God that sent him the message of -cheer through the rustling leaves, he has dug from the soil of Georgia -more than $1,000,000,000 worth of product. From this mighty resource -great cities have been builded and countless fortunes amassed—but amid -all the splendor he has remained the hewer of wood and the drawer of -water. He had made the cities $60,000,000 richer than they were when the -war began, and he finds himself, in the sweat of whose brow this miracle -was wrought, $50,000,000 poorer than he then was. Perhaps not a farmer -in this audience knew this fact—but I doubt if there is one in the -audience who has not felt in his daily life the disadvantage that in -twenty short years has brought about this stupendous difference. Let the -figures speak for themselves. The farmer—the first figure to stumble -amid the desolate dawn of our new life and to salute the coming -day—hurrying to market with the harvest of his hasty planting that -Georgia might once more enter the lists of the living States and buy the -wherewithal to still her wants and clothe her nakedness—always -apparently the master of the situation, has he not been really its -slave, when he finds himself at the end of twenty hard and faithful -years $110,000,000 out of balance? - -Now, let us review the situation a moment. I have shown you, first, that -the notable drift of population is to the loss of village and country, -and the undue and dangerous growth of the city; second, that the notable -movement of finance is that which is bringing villages and country under -mortgage to the city; and third, that they who handle the products for -sale profit more thereby than those who create them—the difference in -one State in twenty years reaching the enormous sum of $110,000,000. Are -these healthy tendencies? Do they not demand the earnest and thoughtful -consideration of every patriotic citizen? The problem of the day is to -check these three currents that are already pouring against the bulwarks -of our peace and prosperity. To anchor the farmer to his land and the -villager to his home; to enable him to till the land under equal -conditions and to hold that home in independence; to save with his hands -the just proportion of his labor, that he may sow in content and reap in -justice,—this is what we need. The danger of the day is centralization, -its salvation diffusion. Cut that word deep in your heart. This Republic -differs from Russia only because the powers centralized there in one man -are here diffused among the people. Western Ohio is happy and tranquil, -while Chicago is feverish and dangerous, because the people diffused in -the towns and the villages of the one are centralized and packed in the -tenements of the other; but of all centralization that menaces our peace -and threatens our liberties, is the consolidation of capital—and of all -the diffusion that is needed in this Republic, congesting at so many -points, is the leveling of our colossal fortunes and the diffusion of -our gathered wealth amid the great middle classes of this people. As -this question underruns the three tendencies we have been discussing, -let us consider it a moment. - -Few men comprehend the growth of private fortunes in this country, and -the encroachments they have made on the rest of the people. Take one -instance: A man in Chicago that had a private fortune secured control of -all the wheat in the country, and advanced the price until flour went up -three dollars a barrel. When he collected $4,000,000 of this forced -tribute from the people, he opened his corner and released the wheat, -and the world, forgetting the famishing children from whose hungry lips -he had stolen the crust, praised him as the king of finance and trade. -Let us analyze this deal. The farmer who raised the wheat got not one -cent of the added profit. The mills that ground it not one cent. Every -dollar went to swell the toppling fortunes of him who never sowed it to -the ground, nor fed it to the thundering wheels, but who knew it only as -the chance instrument of his infamous scheme. Why, our fathers declared -war against England, their mother country, from whose womb they came, -because she levied two cents a pound on our tea, and yet, without a -murmur, we submit to ten times this tax placed on the bread of our -mouths, and levied by a private citizen for no reason save his greed, -and no right save his might. Were a man to enter an humble home in -England, bind the father helpless, stamp out the fire on the -hearthstone, empty the scanty larder, and leave the family for three -weeks cold and hungry and helpless, he would be dealt with by the law; -and yet four men in New York cornered the world’s cotton crop and held -it until the English spindles were stopped and 14,000,000 operatives -sent idle and empty-handed to their homes, to divide their last crust -with their children, and then sit down and suffer until the greed of the -speculators was filled. The sugar refineries combined their plants at a -cost of $14,000,000, and so raised the price of sugar that they made the -first year $9,500,000 profit, and since then have advanced it rapidly -until we sweeten our coffee absolutely in their caprice. When the -bagging mills were threatened with a reduced tariff, they made a trust -and openly boasted that they intended to make one season’s profits pay -the entire cost of their mills—and these precious villains, whom thus -far the lightnings have failed to blast, having carried out their -infamous boast, organized for a deeper steal this season. And so it -goes. There is not a thing we eat or drink, nor an article we must have -for the comfort of our homes, that may not be thus seized and controlled -and made an instrument for the shameless plundering of the people. It is -a shame—this people patient and cheerful under the rise or fall of -prices that come with the failure of God’s season’s charge as its -compensation—or under the advance at the farm which enriches the farmer, -or under that competitive demand which bespeaks brisk prosperity—this -people made the prey and the sport of plunderers who levy tribute -through a system that mocks at God’s recurring rains, knows not the -farmer, and locks competition in the grasp of monopoly. And the -millions, thus wrung from the people, loaned back to them at usury, -laying the blight of the mortgage on their homes, and the obligation of -debt on their manhood. Talk about the timidity of capital. That is a -forgotten phrase. In the power and irresponsibility of this sudden and -enormous wealth is bred an insolence that knows no bounds. “The public -be damned!” was the sentiment of the plutocrats, speaking through the -voice of Vanderbilt’s millions. In cornering the product and levying the -tribute—in locking up abundant supply until the wheels of industry -stop—in oppressing through trusts, and domineering in the strength of -corporate power, the plutocrats do what no political party would dare -attempt and what no government on this earth would enforce. The Czar of -Russia would not dare hold up a product until the mill-wheels were idle, -or lay an unusual tax on bread and meat to replenish his coffers, and -yet these things our plutocrats, flagrant and irresponsible, do day -after day until public indignation is indignant and shame is lost in -wonder. - -And when an outraged people turn to government for help what do they -find? Their government in the hands of a party that is in sympathy with -their oppressors—that was returned to power with votes purchased with -their money—and whose confessed leaders declared that trusts are largely -private concerns with which the government had naught to do. Not only is -the dominant party the apologist of the plutocrats and the beneficiary -of their crimes, but it is based on that principle of centralization -through which they came into life and on which alone they can exist. It -holds that sovereignty should be taken from the States and lodged with -the nation—that political powers and privileges should be wrested from -the people and guarded at the capital. It distrusts the people, and even -now demands that your ballot-boxes shall be hedged about by its -bayonets. It declares that a strong government is better than a free -government, and that national authority, backed by national armies and -treasury, is a better guarantee of peace and prosperity and liberty and -enlightenment diffused among the people. To defend this policy, that -cannot be maintained by argument or sustained by the love or confidence -of the people, it rallies under its flag the mercenaries of the -Republic, the syndicate, the trust, the monopolist, and the plutocrat, -and strengthening them by grant and protection, rejoices as they grow -richer and the people grow poorer. Confident in the debauching power of -money and the unscrupulous audacity of their creatures, they catch the -spirit of Vanderbilt’s defiance and call aloud from their ramparts, “the -people be damned!” I charge that this party has bought its way for -twenty years. Its nucleus was the passion that survived the war—and -around this it has gathered the protected manufacturer, the pensioned -soldier, the licensed monopolist, the privileged corporation, the -unchallenged trust—all whom power can daunt, or money can buy, and with -these in close and constant phalanx it holds the government against the -people. Not a man in all its ranks that is not influenced by prejudice -or bought by privilege. - -What a spectacle, my countrymen! This free Republic in the hands of a -party that withdraws sovereignty from the people that its own authority -may be made supreme—that fans the smouldering embers of war, and loosing -among the people the dogs of privilege and monopoly to hunt, and harrow -and rend, that its lines may be made stronger and its ramparts -fortified. And now, it is committed to a crime that is without precedent -or parallel in the history of any people, and this crime it is obliged -by its own necessity as well as by its pledge to commit as soon as it -gets the full reins of power. This crime is hidden in the bill known as -the service pension bill, which pensions every man who enlisted for -sixty days for the Union army. Let us examine this pension list. Twelve -years ago it footed $46,000,000. Last year it was $81,000,000. This year -it has already run to over $100,000,000. Of this amount Georgia pays -about $3,500,000 a year. Think of it. The money that her people have -paid, through indirect taxation into the treasury, is given, let us say -to Iowa, for that State just equals Georgia in population. Every year -$3,500,000 wrung from her pockets and sent into Iowa as pensions for her -soldiers. Since 1865, out of her poverty, Georgia has paid $51,000,000 -as pensions to Northern soldiers—one-sixth of the value of her whole -property. And now it is proposed to enlarge the pension list until it -includes every man who enlisted for sixty days. They will not fail. The -last Congress passed a pension bill that Commissioner Black—himself a -gallant Union general—studied deliberately, and then told the President -that if he signed it, it would raise the pension list to $200,000,000, -and had it not been for the love of the people that ran in the veins of -Grover Cleveland and the courage of Democracy which flamed in his heart, -that bill would have been law to-day. A worse bill will be offered. -There is a surplus of $120,000,000 in the treasury. While that remains -it endangers the protective tariff, behind which the trained captains of -the Republican party muster their men. But let the pension list be -lifted to $200,000,000 a year. Then the surplus is gone and a deficiency -created, and the protective tariff must be not only perpetuated but -deepened, and the vigilance of the spies and collectors increased to -meet the demands of the government. And back of it all will be mustered -the army of a million and a half pensioners, drawing their booty from -the Republican party and giving it in turn their purchased allegiance -and support. - -My countrymen, a thousand times I have thought of that historic scene -beneath the apple-tree at Appomattox, of Lee’s 8000 ragged, half-starved -immortals, going home to begin anew amid the ashes of their homes, and -the graves of their dead, the weary struggle for existence, and Grant’s -68,000 splendid soldiers, well fed and equipped, going home to riot amid -the plenty of a grateful and prosperous people, and I have thought how -hard it was that out of our poverty we should be taxed to pay their -pension, and to divide with this rich people the crust we scraped up -from the ashes of our homes. And I have thought when their maimed and -helpless soldiers were sheltered in superb homes, and lapped in luxury, -while our poor cripples limped along the highway or hid their shame in -huts, or broke bitter bread in the county poor-house, how hard it was -that, of all the millions we send them annually, we can save not one -dollar to go to our old heroes, who deserve so much and get so little. -And yet we made no complaint. We were willing that every Union soldier -made helpless by the war should have his pension and his home, and thank -God, without setting our crippled soldiers on the curbstone of distant -Babylons to beg, as blind Belisarius did, from the passing stranger. We -have provided them a home in which they can rest in honorable peace -until God has called them hence to a home not made with hands, eternal -in the heavens. We have not complained that our earnings have gone to -pension Union soldiers—the maimed soldiers of the Union armies. But the -scheme to rob the people that every man who enlisted for sixty days, or -his widow, shall be supported at public expense is an outrage that must -not be submitted to. It is not patriotism—it is politics. It is not -honesty—it is plunder. The South has played a patient and a waiting game -for twenty years, fearing to protest against what she knew to be wrong -in the fear that she would be misunderstood. I fear that she has gained -little by this course save the contempt of her enemies. The time has -come when she should stand upright among the States of this Republic and -declare her mind and stand by her convictions. She must not stand silent -while this crowning outrage is perpetrated. It means that the Republican -party will loot the treasury to recruit its ranks—that $70,000,000 a -year shall be taken from the South to enrich the North, thus building up -one section against another—that the protective tariff shall be -deepened, thus building one class against another, and that the party of -trusts and monopoly shall be kept in power, the autonomy of the Republic -lost, the government centralized, the oligarchs established, and justice -to the people postponed. But this party will not prevail, even though -its pension bill should pass, and its pretorial God be established in -every Northern State. It was Louis XVI. who peddled the taxing -privileges to his friends, and when the people protested surrounded -himself with an army of Swiss mercenaries. His minister, Neckar, said to -him: “Sire, I beseech you send away these Swiss and trust your people”; -but the king, confident in his strength and phalanx, buckled it close -about him and plundered the people until his head paid the penalty of -his crime. So this party, bartering privileges and setting up classes, -may feel secure as it closes the ranks of its mercenaries, but some day -the great American heart will burst with righteous wrath, and the voice -of the people, which is the voice of God, will challenge the traitors, -and the great masses will rise in their might, and breaking down the -defenses of the oligarchs, will hurl them from power and restore this -Republic to the old moorings from which it had been swept by the storm. - -The government can protect its citizens. It is of the people, and it -shall not perish from the face of the earth. It can top off these -colossal fortunes and, by an income tax, retard their growth. It can set -a limit to personal and corporate wealth. It can take trusts and -syndicates by the throat. It can shatter monopoly; it can equalize the -burden of taxation; it can distribute its privileges impartially; it can -clothe with credit its land now discredited at its banks; it can lift -the burdens from the farmer’s shoulders, give him equal strength to bear -them—it can trust the people in whose name this Republic was founded; in -whose courage it was defended; in whose wisdom it has been administered, -and whose stricken love and confidence it can not survive. - -But the government, no matter what it does, does not do all that is -needed, nor the most; that is conceded, for all true reform must begin -with the people at their homes. A few Sundays ago I stood on a hill in -Washington. My heart thrilled as I looked on the towering marble of my -country’s Capitol, and a mist gathered in my eyes as, standing there, I -thought of its tremendous significance and the powers there assembled, -and the responsibilities there centered—its presidents, its congress, -its courts, its gathered treasure, its army, its navy, and its -60,000,000 of citizens. It seemed to me the best and mightiest sight -that the sun could find in its wheeling course—this majestic home of a -Republic that has taught the world its best lessons of liberty—and I -felt that if wisdom, and justice, and honor abided therein, the world -would stand indebted to this temple on which my eyes rested, and in -which the ark of my covenant was lodged for its final uplifting and -regeneration. - -A few days later I visited a country home. A modest, quiet house -sheltered by great trees and set in a circle of field and meadow, -gracious with the promise of harvest—barns and cribs well filled and the -old smoke-house odorous with treasure—the fragrance of pink and -hollyhock mingling with the aroma of garden and orchard, and resonant -with the hum of bees and poultry’s busy clucking—inside the house, -thrift, comfort and that cleanliness that is next to godliness—the -restful beds, the open fireplace, the books and papers, and the old -clock that had held its steadfast pace amid the frolic of weddings, that -had welcomed in steady measure the newborn babes of the family, and kept -company with the watchers of the sick bed, and had ticked the solemn -requiem of the dead; and the well-worn Bible that, thumbed by fingers -long since stilled, and blurred with tears of eyes long since closed, -held the simple annals of the family, and the heart and conscience of -the home. Outside stood the master, strong and wholesome and upright; -wearing no man’s collar; with no mortgage on his roof, and no lien on -his ripening harvest; pitching his crops in his own wisdom, and selling -them in his own time in his chosen market; master of his lands and -master of himself. Near by stood his aged father, happy in the heart and -home of his son. And as they started to the house the old man’s hands -rested on the young man’s shoulder, touching it with the knighthood of -the fourth commandment, and laying there the unspeakable blessing of an -honored and grateful father. As they drew near the door the old mother -appeared; the sunset falling on her face, softening its wrinkles and its -tenderness, lighting up her patient eyes, and the rich music of her -heart trembling on her lips, as in simple phrase she welcomed her -husband and son to their home. Beyond was the good wife, true of touch -and tender, happy amid her household cares, clean of heart and -conscience, the helpmate and the buckler of her husband. And the -children, strong and sturdy, trooping down the lane with the lowing -herd, or weary of simple sport, seeking, as truant birds do, the quiet -of the old home nest. And I saw the night descend on that home, falling -gently as from the wings of the unseen dove. And the stars swarmed in -the bending skies—the trees thrilled with the cricket’s cry—the restless -bird called from the neighboring wood—and the father, a simple man of -God, gathering the family about him, read from the Bible the old, old -story of love and faith, and then went down in prayer, the baby hidden -amid the folds of its mother’s dress, and closed the record of that -simple day by calling down the benediction of God on the family and the -home! - -And as I gazed the memory of the great Capitol faded from my brain. -Forgotten its treasure and its splendor. And I said, “Surely here—here -in the homes of the people is lodged the ark of the covenant of my -country. Here is its majesty and its strength. Here the beginning of its -power and the end of its responsibility.” The homes of the people; let -us keep them pure and independent, and all will be well with the -Republic. Here is the lesson our foes may learn—here is work the -humblest and weakest hands may do. Let us in simple thrift and economy -make our homes independent. Let us in frugal industry make them -self-sustaining. In sacrifice and denial let us keep them free from debt -and obligation. Let us make them homes of refinement in which we shall -teach our daughters that modesty and patience and gentleness are the -charms of woman. Let us make them temples of liberty, and teach our sons -that an honest conscience is every man’s first political law. That his -sovereignty rests beneath his hat, and that no splendor can rob him and -no force justify the surrender of the simplest right of a free and -independent citizen. And above all, let us honor God in our homes—anchor -them close in His love. Build His altars above our hearthstones, uphold -them in the set and simple faith of our fathers and crown them with the -Bible—that book of books in which all the ways of life are made straight -and the mystery of death is made plain. The home is the source of our -national life. Back of the national Capitol and above it stands the -home. Back of the President and above him stands the citizen. What the -home is, this and nothing else will the Capitol be. What the citizen -wills, this and nothing else will the President be. - -Now, my friends, I am no farmer. I have not sought to teach you the -details of your work, for I know little of them. I have not commended -your splendid local advantages, for that I shall do elsewhere. I have -not discussed the differences between the farmer and other classes, for -I believe in essential things there is no difference between them, and -that minor differences should be sacrificed to the greater interest that -depends on a united people. I seek not to divide our people, but to -unite them. I should despise myself if I pandered to the prejudice of -either class to win the applause of the other. - -But I have noted these great movements that destroy the equilibrium and -threaten the prosperity of my country, and standing above passion and -prejudice or demagoguery I invoke every true citizen, fighting from his -hearthstone outward, with the prattle of his children on his ear, and -the hand of his wife and mother closely clasped, to determine here to -make his home sustaining and independent, and to pledge eternal -hostility to the forces that threaten our liberties, and the party that -stands behind it. - -When I think of the tremendous force of the currents against which we -must fight, of the great political party that impels that fight, of the -countless host of mercenaries that fight under its flag, of the enormous -powers of government privilege and monopoly that back them up, I confess -my heart sinks within me, and I grow faint. But I remember that the -servant of Elisha looked abroad from Samaria and beheld the hosts that -encompassed the city, and said in agonized fear: “Alas, master, what -shall we do?” and the answer of Elisha was the answer of every brave man -and faithful heart in all ages: “Fear not, for they that be with us are -more than they that be with them,” and this faith opened the eyes of the -servant of the man of God, and he looked up again, and lo, the air was -filled with chariots of fire, and the mountains were filled with -horsemen, and they compassed the city about as a mighty and -unconquerable host. Let us fight in such faith, and fear not. The air -all about us is filled with chariots of unseen allies, and the mountains -are thronged with unseen knights that shall fight with us. Fear not, for -they that be with us are more than they that be with them. Buckle on -your armor, gird about your loins, stand upright and dauntless while I -summon you to the presence of the immortal dead. Your fathers and mine -yet live, though they speak not, and will consecrate this air with their -wheeling chariots, and above them and beyond them to the Lord God -Almighty, King of the Hosts in whose unhindered splendor we stand this -morning. Look up to them, be of good cheer, and faint not, for they -shall fight with us when we strike for liberty and truth, and all the -world, though it be banded against us, shall not prevail against them. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - AT THE BOSTON BANQUET. - - ------- - -IN HIS SPEECH AT THE ANNUAL BANQUET OF THE BOSTON MERCHANTS’ ASSOCIATION - IN DECEMBER, 1889, MR. GRADY SAID: - - -MR. PRESIDENT: Bidden by your invitation to a discussion of the race -problem—forbidden by occasion to make a political speech—I appreciate in -trying to reconcile orders with propriety the predicament of the little -maid who, bidden to learn to swim, was yet adjured, “Now, go, my -darling, hang your clothes on a hickory limb, and don’t go near the -water.” - -The stoutest apostle of the church, they say, is the missionary, and the -missionary, wherever he unfurls his flag, will never find himself in -deeper need of unction and address than I, bidden to-night to plant the -standard of a Southern Democrat in Boston’s banquet hall, and discuss -the problem of the races in the home of Phillips and of Sumner. But, Mr. -President, if a purpose to speak in perfect frankness and sincerity; if -earnest understanding of the vast interests involved; if a consecrating -sense of what disaster may follow further misunderstanding and -estrangement, if these may be counted to steady undisciplined speech and -to strengthen an untried arm—then, sir, I find the courage to proceed. - -Happy am I that this mission has brought my feet at last to press New -England’s historic soil, and my eyes to the knowledge of her beauty and -her thrift. Here, within touch of Plymouth Rock and Bunker Hill—where -Webster thundered and Longfellow sang, Emerson thought and Channing -preached—here in the cradle of American letters, and almost of American -liberty, I hasten to make the obeisance that every American owes New -England when first he stands uncovered in her mighty presence. Strange -apparition! This stern and unique figure—carved from the ocean and the -wilderness—its majesty kindling and growing amid the storms of winters -and of wars—until at last the gloom was broken, its beauty disclosed in -the sunshine, and the heroic workers rested at its base—while startled -kings and emperors gazed and marveled that from the rude touch of this -handful, cast on a bleak and unknown shore, should have come the -embodied genius of human government, and the perfected model of human -liberty! God bless the memory of those immortal workers—and prosper the -fortunes of their living sons—and perpetuate the inspiration of their -handiwork. - -Two years ago, sir, I spoke some words in New York that caught the -attention of the North. As I stand here to reiterate, as I have done -everywhere, every word I then uttered—to declare that the sentiments I -then avowed were universally approved in the South—I realize that the -confidence begotten by that speech is largely responsible for my -presence here to-night. I should dishonor myself if I betrayed that -confidence by uttering one insincere word, or by withholding one -essential element of the truth. Apropos of this last, let me confess, -Mr. President—before the praise of New England has died on my lips—that -I believe the best product of her present life is the procession of -17,000 Vermont Democrats that for twenty-two years, undiminished by -death, unrecruited by birth or conversion, have marched over their -rugged hills, cast their Democratic ballots, and gone back home to pray -for their unregenerate neighbors, and awake to read the record of 26,000 -Republican majority. May the God of the helpless and the heroic help -them—and may their sturdy tribe increase! - -Far to the south, Mr. President, separated from this section by a line, -once defined in irrepressible difference, once traced in fratricidal -blood, and now, thank God, but a vanishing shadow, lies the fairest and -richest domain of this earth. It is the home of a brave and hospitable -people. There, is centered all that can please or prosper humankind. A -perfect climate, above a fertile soil, yields to the husbandman every -product of the temperate zone. There, by night the cotton whitens -beneath the stars, and by day the wheat locks the sunshine in its -bearded sheaf. In the same field the clover steals the fragrance of the -wind, and the tobacco catches the quick aroma of the rains. There, are -mountains stored with exhaustless treasures; forests, vast and primeval, -and rivers that, tumbling or loitering, run wanton to the sea. Of the -three essential items of all industries—cotton, iron and wool—that -region has easy control. In cotton, a fixed monopoly—in iron, proven -supremacy—in timber, the reserve supply of the Republic. From this -assured and permanent advantage, against which artificial conditions -cannot much longer prevail, has grown an amazing system of industries. -Not maintained by human contrivance of tariff or capital, afar off from -the fullest and cheapest source of supply, but resting in Divine -assurance, within touch of field and mine and forest—not set amid costly -farms from which competition has driven the farmer in despair, but amid -cheap and sunny lands, rich with agriculture, to which neither season -nor soil has set a limit—this system of industries is mounting to a -splendor that shall dazzle and illumine the world. - -That, sir, is the picture and the promise of my home—a land better and -fairer than I have told you, and yet but fit setting, in its material -excellence, for the loyal and gentle quality of its citizenship. Against -that, sir, we have New England, recruiting the Republic from its sturdy -loins, shaking from its overcrowded hives new swarms of workers and -touching this land all over with its energy and its courage. And yet, -while in the Eldorado of which I have told you, but 15 per cent. of -lands are cultivated, its mines scarcely touched and its population so -scant that, were it set equidistant, the sound of the human voice could -not be heard from Virginia to Texas—while on the threshold of nearly -every house in New England stands a son, seeking with troubled eyes some -new land in which to carry his modest patrimony, the strange fact -remains that in 1880 the South had fewer Northern-born citizens than she -had in 1870—fewer in ’70 than in ’60. Why is this? Why is it, sir, -though the sectional line be now but a mist that the breath may dispel, -fewer men of the North have crossed it over to the South than when it -was crimson with the best blood of the Republic, or even when the -slaveholder stood guard every inch of its way? - -There can be but one answer. It is the very problem we are now to -consider. The key that opens that problem will unlock to the world the -fairest half of this Republic, and free the halted feet of thousands -whose eyes are already kindling with its beauty. Better than this, it -will open the hearts of brothers for thirty years estranged, and clasp -in lasting comradeship a million hands now withheld in doubt. Nothing, -sir, but this problem, and the suspicions it breeds, hinders a clear -understanding and a perfect union. Nothing else stands between us and -such love as bound Georgia and Massachusetts at Valley Forge and -Yorktown, chastened by the sacrifices at Manassas and Gettysburg, and -illumined with the coming of better work and a nobler destiny than was -ever wrought with the sword or sought at the cannon’s mouth. - -If this does not invite your patient hearing to-night—hear one thing -more. My people, your brothers in the South—brothers in blood, in -destiny, in all that is best in our past and future—are so beset with -this problem that their very existence depends upon its right solution. -Nor are they wholly to blame for its presence. The slave-ships of the -Republic sailed from your ports—the slaves worked in our fields. You -will not defend the traffic, nor I the institution. But I do hereby -declare that in its wise and humane administration, in lifting the slave -to heights of which he had not dreamed in his savage home, and giving -him a happiness he has not yet found in freedom—our fathers left their -sons a saving and excellent heritage. In the storm of war this -institution was lost. I thank God as heartily as you do that human -slavery is gone forever from the American soil. But the freedman -remains. With him a problem without precedent or parallel. Note its -appalling conditions. Two utterly dissimilar races on the same soil—with -equal political and civil rights—almost equal in numbers, but terribly -unequal in intelligence and responsibility—each pledged against -fusion—one for a century in servitude to the other, and freed at last by -a desolating war—the experiment sought by neither, but approached by -both with doubt—these are the conditions. Under these, adverse at every -point, we are required to carry these two races in peace and honor to -the end. - -Never, sir, has such a task been given to mortal stewardship. Never -before in this Republic has the white race divided on the rights of an -alien race. The red man was cut down as a weed, because he hindered the -way of the American citizen. The yellow man was shut out of this -Republic because he is an alien and inferior. The red man was owner of -the land—the yellow man highly civilized and assimilable—but they -hindered both sections and are gone! But the black man, affecting but -one section, is clothed with every privilege of government and pinned to -the soil, and my people commanded to make good at any hazard, and at any -cost, his full and equal heirship of American privilege and prosperity. -It matters not that every other race has been routed or excluded, -without rhyme or reason. It matters not that wherever the whites and -blacks have touched, in any era or in any clime, there has been -irreconcilable violence. It matters not that no two races, however -similar, have lived anywhere at any time on the same soil with equal -rights in peace! In spite of these things we are commanded to make good -this change of American policy which has not perhaps changed American -prejudice—to make certain here what has elsewhere been impossible -between whites and blacks—and to reverse, under the very worst -conditions, the universal verdict of racial history. And driven, sir, to -this superhuman task with an impatience that brooks no delay—a rigor -that accepts no excuse—and a suspicion that discourages frankness and -sincerity. We do not shrink from this trial. It is so interwoven with -our industrial fabric that we cannot disentangle it if we would—so bound -up in our honorable obligation to the world, that we would not if we -could. Can we solve it? The God who gave it into our hands, He alone can -know. But this the weakest and wisest of us do know; we cannot solve it -with less than your tolerant and patient sympathy—with less than the -knowledge that the blood that runs in your veins is our blood—and that -when we have done our best, whether the issue be lost or won, we shall -feel your strong arms about us and hear the beating of your approving -hearts. - -The resolute, clear-headed, broad-minded men of the South—the men whose -genius made glorious every page of the first seventy years of American -history—whose courage and fortitude you tested in five years of the -fiercest war—whose energy has made bricks without straw and spread -splendor amid the ashes of their war-wasted homes—these men wear this -problem in their hearts and their brains, by day and by night. They -realize, as you cannot, what this problem means—what they owe to this -kindly and dependent race—the measure of their debt to the world in -whose despite they defended and maintained slavery. And though their -feet are hindered in its undergrowth, and their march encumbered with -its burdens, they have lost neither the patience from which comes -clearness, nor the faith from which comes courage. Nor, sir, when in -passionate moments is disclosed to them that vague and awful shadow, -with its lurid abysses and its crimson stains, into which I pray God -they may never go, are they struck with more of apprehension than is -needed to complete their consecration! - -Such is the temper of my people. But what of the problem itself? Mr. -President, we need not go one step further unless you concede right here -the people I speak for are as honest, as sensible, and as just as your -people, seeking as earnestly as you would in their place, to rightly -solve the problem that touches them at every vital point. If you insist -that they are ruffians, blindly striving with bludgeon and shotgun to -plunder and oppress a race, then I shall sacrifice my self-respect and -tax your patience in vain. But admit that they are men of common sense -and common honesty—wisely modifying an environment they cannot wholly -disregard—guiding and controlling as best they can the vicious and -irresponsible of either race—compensating error with frankness, and -retrieving in patience what they lose in passion—and conscious all the -time that wrong means ruin,—admit this, and we may reach an -understanding to-night. - -The President of the United States in his late message to Congress, -discussing the plea that the South should be left to solve this problem, -asks: “Are they at work upon it? What solution do they offer? When will -the black man cast a free ballot? When will he have the civil rights -that are his?” I shall not here protest against the partisanry that, for -the first time in our history in time of peace, has stamped with the -great seal of our government a stigma upon the people of a great and -loyal section, though I gratefully remember that the great dead soldier -who held the helm of state for the eight stormiest years of -reconstruction never found need for such a step; and though there is no -personal sacrifice I would not make to remove this cruel and unjust -imputation on my people from the archives of my country! But, sir, -backed by a record on every page of which is progress, I venture to make -earnest and respectful answer to the questions that are asked. I bespeak -your patience, while with vigorous plainness of speech, seeking your -judgment rather than your applause, I proceed step by step. We give to -the world this year a crop of 7,500,000 bales of cotton, worth -$45,000,000, and its cash equivalent in grain, grasses and fruit. This -enormous crop could not have come from the hands of sullen and -discontented labor. It comes from peaceful fields, in which laughter and -gossip rise above the hum of industry, and contentment runs with the -singing plow. - -It is claimed that this ignorant labor is defrauded of its just hire. I -present the tax-books of Georgia, which show that the negro, 25 years -ago a slave, has in Georgia alone $10,000,000 of assessed property, -worth twice that much. Does not that record honor him, and vindicate his -neighbors? What people, penniless, illiterate, has done so well? For -every Afro-American agitator, stirring the strife in which alone he -prospers, I can show you a thousand negroes, happy in their cabin homes, -tilling their own land by day, and at night taking from the lips of -their children the helpful message their State sends them from the -schoolhouse door. And the schoolhouse itself bears testimony. In Georgia -we added last year $250,000 to the school fund, making a total of more -than $1,000,000—and this in the face of prejudice not yet conquered—of -the fact that the whites are assessed for $368,000,000, the blacks for -$10,000,000, and yet 49 per cent. of the beneficiaries are black -children—and in the doubt of many wise men if education helps, or can -help, our problem. Charleston, with her taxable values cut half in two -since 1860, pays more in proportion for public schools than Boston. -Although it is easier to give much out of much than little out of -little, the South with one-seventh of the taxable property of the -country, with relatively larger debt, having received only one-twelfth -as much public land, and having back of its tax-books none of the half -billion of bonds that enrich the North—and though it pays annually -$26,000,000 to your section as pensions—yet gives nearly one-sixth of -the public-school fund. The South since 1865 has spent $122,000,000 in -education, and this year is pledged to $37,000,000 for state and city -schools, although the blacks paying one-thirtieth of the taxes get -nearly one-half of the fund. - -Go into our fields and see whites and blacks working side by side. On -our buildings in the same squad. In our shops at the same forge. Often -the blacks crowd the whites from work, or lower wages by the greater -need or simpler habits, and yet are permitted because we want to bar -them from no avenue in which their feet are fitted to tread. They could -not there be elected orators of the white universities, as they have -been here, but they do enter there a hundred useful trades that are -closed against them here. We hold it better and wiser to tend the weeds -in the garden than to water the exotic in the window. In the South, -there are negro lawyers, teachers, editors, dentists, doctors, -preachers, multiplying with the increasing ability of their race to -support them. In villages and towns they have their military companies -equipped from the armories of the State, their churches and societies -built and supported largely by their neighbors. What is the testimony of -the courts? In penal legislation we have steadily reduced felonies to -misdemeanors, and have led the world in mitigating punishment for crime, -that we might save, as far as possible, this dependent race from its own -weakness. In our penitentiary record 60 per cent. of the prosecutors are -negroes, and in every court the negro criminal strikes the colored -juror, that white men may judge his case. In the North, one negro in -every 1865 is in jail—in the South only one in 446. In the North the -percentage of negro prisoners is six times as great as native whites—in -the South, only four times as great. If prejudice wrongs him in southern -courts, the record shows it to be deeper in northern courts. - -I assert here, and a bar as intelligent and upright as the bar of -Massachusetts will solemnly indorse my assertion, that in the southern -courts, from highest to lowest, pleading for life, liberty or property, -the negro has distinct advantage because he is a negro, apt to be -over-reached, oppressed—and that this advantage reaches from the juror -in making his verdict to the judge in measuring his sentence. Now, Mr. -President, can it be seriously maintained that we are terrorizing the -people from whose willing hands come every year $1,000,000,000 of farm -crops? Or have robbed a people, who twenty-five years from unrewarded -slavery have amassed in one State $20,000,000 of property? Or that we -intend to oppress the people we are arming every day? Or deceive them -when we are educating them to the utmost limit of our ability? Or outlaw -them when we work side by side with them? Or re-enslave them under legal -forms when for their benefit we have even imprudently narrowed the limit -of felonies and mitigated the severity of law? My fellow countryman, as -you yourself may sometimes have to appeal to the bar of human judgment -for justice and for right, give to my people to-night the fair and -unanswerable conclusion of these incontestible facts. - -But it is claimed that under this fair seeming there is disorder and -violence. This I admit. And there will be until there is one ideal -community on earth after which we may pattern. But how widely it is -misjudged! It is hard to measure with exactness whatever touches the -negro. His helplessness, his isolation, his century of servitude, these -dispose us to emphasize and magnify his wrongs. This disposition, -inflamed by prejudice and partisanry, has led to injustice and delusion. -Lawless men may ravage a county in Iowa and it is accepted as an -incident—in the South a drunken row is declared to be the fixed habit of -the community. Regulators may whip vagabonds in Indiana by platoons, and -it scarcely arrests attention—a chance collision in the South among -relatively the same classes is gravely accepted as evidence that one -race is destroying the other. We might as well claim that the Union was -ungrateful to the colored soldiers who followed its flag, because a -Grand Army post in Connecticut closed its doors to a negro veteran, as -for you to give racial significance to every incident in the South, or -to accept exceptional grounds as the rule of our society. I am not one -of those who becloud American honor with the parade of the outrages of -either section, and belie American character by declaring them to be -significant and representative. I prefer to maintain that they are -neither, and stand for nothing but the passion and the sin of our poor -fallen humanity. If society, like a machine, were no stronger than its -weakest part, I should despair of both sections. But, knowing that -society, sentient and responsible in every fibre, can mend and repair -until the whole has the strength of the best, I despair of neither. -These gentlemen who come with me here, knit into Georgia’s busy life as -they are, never saw, I dare assert, an outrage committed on a negro! And -if they did, not one of you would be swifter to prevent or punish. It is -through them, and the men who think with them—making nine-tenths of -every southern community—that these two races have been carried thus far -with less of violence than would have been possible anywhere else on -earth. And in their fairness and courage and steadfastness—more than in -all the laws that can be passed or all the bayonets that can be -mustered—is the hope of our future. - -When will the black cast a free ballot? When ignorance anywhere is not -dominated by the will of the intelligent; when the laborer anywhere -casts a vote unhindered by his boss; when the vote of the poor anywhere -is not influenced by the power of the rich; when the strong and the -steadfast do not everywhere control the suffrage of the weak and -shiftless—then and not till then will the ballot of the negro be free. -The white people of the South are banded, Mr. President, not in -prejudice against the blacks—not in sectional estrangement, not in the -hope of political dominion—but in a deep and abiding necessity. Here is -this vast ignorant and purchasable vote—clannish, credulous, impulsive -and passionate—tempting every art of the demagogue, but insensible to -the appeal of the statesman. Wrongly started, in that it was led into -alienation from its neighbor and taught to rely on the protection of an -outside force, it cannot be merged and lost in the two great parties -through logical currents, for it lacks political conviction and even -that information on which conviction must be based. It must remain a -faction—strong enough in every community to control on the slightest -division of the whites. Under that division it becomes the prey of the -cunning and unscrupulous of both parties. Its credulity is imposed on, -its patience inflamed, its cupidity tempted, its impulses -misdirected—and even its superstition made to play its part in a -campaign in which every interest of society is jeopardized and every -approach to the ballot-box debauched. It is against such campaigns as -this—the folly and the bitterness and the danger of which every southern -community has drunk deeply—that the white people of the South are banded -together. Just as you in Massachusetts would be banded if 300,000 black -men, not one in a hundred able to read his ballot—banded in race -instinct, holding against you the memory of a century of slavery, taught -by your late conquerors to distrust and oppose you, had already -travestied legislation from your statehouse, and in every species of -folly or villainy had wasted your substance and exhausted your credit. - -But admitting the right of the whites to unite against this tremendous -menace, we are challenged with the smallness of our vote. This has long -been flippantly charged to be evidence, and has now been solemnly and -officially declared to be proof of political turpitude and baseness on -our part. Let us see. Virginia—a State now under fierce assault for this -alleged crime—cast in 1888 75 per cent. of her vote. Massachusetts, the -State in which I speak, 60 per cent. of her vote. Was it suppression in -Virginia and natural causes in Massachusetts? Last month Virginia cast -69 per cent. of her vote, and Massachusetts, fighting in every district, -cast only 49 per cent. of hers. If Virginia is condemned because 31 per -cent. of her vote was silent, how shall this State escape in which 51 -per cent. was dumb? Let us enlarge this comparison. The sixteen southern -States in 1888 cast 67 per cent. of their total vote—the six New England -States but 63 per cent. of theirs. By what fair rule shall the stigma be -put upon one section, while the other escapes? A congressional election -in New York last week, with the polling-place in touch of every voter, -brought out only 6000 votes of 28,000—and the lack of opposition is -assigned as the natural cause. In a district in my State, in which an -opposition speech has not been heard in ten years, and the -polling-places are miles apart—under the unfair reasoning of which my -section has been a constant victim—the small vote is charged to be proof -of forcible suppression. In Virginia an average majority of 10,000, -under hopeless division of the minority, was raised to 42,000; in Iowa, -in the same election, a majority of 32,000 was wiped out, and an -opposition majority of 8000 was established. The change of 42,000 votes -in Iowa is accepted as political revolution—in Virginia an increase of -30,000 on a safe majority is declared to be proof of political fraud. I -charge these facts and figures home, sir, to the heart and conscience of -the American people, who will not assuredly see one section condemned -for what another section is excused! - -If I can drive them through the prejudice of the partisan, and have them -read and pondered at the fireside of the citizen, I will rest on the -judgment there formed and the verdict there rendered! - -It is deplorable, sir, that in both sections a larger percentage of the -vote is not regularly cast, but more inexplicable that this should be so -in New England than in the South. What invites the negro to the -ballot-box? He knows that, of all men, it has promised him most and -yielded him least. His first appeal to suffrage was the promise of -“forty acres and a mule.” His second, the threat that Democratic success -meant his re-inslavement. Both have proved false in his experience. He -looked for a home, and he got the freedman’s bank. He fought under the -promise of the loaf, and in victory was denied the crumbs. Discouraged -and deceived, he has realized at last that his best friends are his -neighbors, with whom his lot is cast, and whose prosperity is bound up -in his—and that he has gained nothing in politics to compensate the loss -of their confidence and sympathy that is at last his best and his -enduring hope. And so, without leaders or organization—and lacking the -resolute heroism of my party friends in Vermont that makes their -hopeless march over the hills a high and inspiring pilgrimage—he -shrewdly measures the occasional agitator, balances his little account -with politics, touches up his mule and jogs down the furrow, letting the -mad world jog as it will! - -The negro vote can never control in the South, and it would be well if -partisans in the North would understand this. I have seen the white -people of a State set about by black hosts until their fate seemed -sealed. But, sir, some brave man, banding them together, would rise, as -Elisha rose in beleaguered Samaria, and touching their eyes with faith, -bid them look abroad to see the very air “filled with the chariots of -Israel and the horsemen thereof.” If there is any human force that -cannot be withstood, it is the power of the banded intelligence and -responsibility of a free community. Against it, numbers and corruption -cannot prevail. It cannot be forbidden in the law or divorced in force. -It is the inalienable right of every free community—and the just and -righteous safeguard against an ignorant or corrupt suffrage. It is on -this, sir, that we rely in the South. Not the cowardly menace of mask or -shotgun; but the peaceful majesty of intelligence and responsibility, -massed and unified for the protection of its homes and the preservation -of its liberty. That, sir, is our reliance and our hope, and against it -all the powers of the earth shall not prevail. It was just as certain -that Virginia would come back to the unchallenged control of her white -race—that before the moral and material power of her people once more -unified, opposition would crumble until its last desperate leader was -left alone vainly striving to rally his disordered hosts—as that night -should fade in the kindling glory of the sun. You may pass force bills, -but they will not avail. You may surrender your own liberties to Federal -election law, you may submit, in fear of a necessity that does not -exist, that the very form of this government may be changed—this old -State that holds in its charter the boast that “it is a free and -independent commonwealth”—it may deliver its election machinery into the -hands of the government it helped to create—but never, sir, will a -single State of this Union, North or South, be delivered again to the -control of an ignorant and inferior race. We wrested our State -government from negro supremacy when the Federal drumbeat rolled closer -to the ballot-box and Federal bayonets hedged it deeper about than will -ever again be permitted in this free government. But, sir, though the -cannon of this Republic thundered in every voting district of the South, -we still should find in the mercy of God the means and the courage to -prevent its re-establishment! - -I regret, sir, that my section, hindered with this problem, stands in -seeming estrangement to the North. If, sir, any man will point out to me -a path down which the white people of the South divided may walk in -peace and honor, I will take that path though I took it alone—for at the -end, and nowhere else, I fear, is to be found the full prosperity of my -section and the full restoration of this Union. But, sir, if the negro -had not been enfranchised, the South would have been divided and the -Republic united. His enfranchisement—against which I enter no -protest—holds the South united and compact. What solution, then, can we -offer for the problem? Time alone can disclose it to us. We simply -report progress and ask your patience. If the problem be solved at -all—and I firmly believe it will, though nowhere else has it been—it -will be solved by the people most deeply bound in interest, most deeply -pledged in honor to its solution. I had rather see my people render back -this question lightly solved than to see them gather all the spoils over -which faction has contended since Catiline conspired and Cæsar fought. -Meantime we treat the negro fairly, measuring to him justice in the -fullness the strong should give to the weak, and leading him in the -steadfast ways of citizenship that he may no longer be the prey of the -unscrupulous and the sport of the thoughtless. We open to him every -pursuit in which he can prosper, and seek to broaden his training and -capacity. We seek to hold his confidence and friendship, and to pin him -to the soil with ownership, that he may catch in the fire of his own -hearthstone that sense of responsibility the shiftless can never know. -And we gather him into that alliance of intelligence and responsibility -that, though it now runs close to racial lines, welcomes the responsible -and intelligent of any race. By this course, confirmed in our judgment -and justified in the progress already made, we hope to progress slowly -but surely to the end. - -The love we feel for that race you cannot measure nor comprehend. As I -attest it here, the spirit of my old black mammy from her home up there -looks down to bless, and through the tumult of this night steals the -sweet music of her croonings as thirty years ago she held me in her -black arms and led me smiling into sleep. This scene vanishes as I -speak, and I catch a vision of an old Southern home, with its lofty -pillars, and its white pigeons fluttering down through the golden air. I -see women with strained and anxious faces, and children alert yet -helpless. I see night come down with its dangers and its apprehensions, -and in a big homely room I feel on my tired head the touch of loving -hands—now worn and wrinkled, but fairer to me yet than the hands of -mortal woman, and stronger yet to lead me than the hands of mortal -man—as they lay a mother’s blessing there while at her knees—the truest -altar I yet have found—I thank God that she is safe in her sanctuary, -because her slaves, sentinel in the silent cabin or guard at her chamber -door, puts a black man’s loyalty between her and danger. - -I catch another vision. The crisis of battle—a soldier struck, -staggering, fallen. I see a slave, scuffling through the smoke, winding -his black arms about the fallen form, reckless of the hurtling -death—bending his trusty face to catch the words that tremble on the -stricken lips, so wrestling meantime with agony that he would lay down -his life in his master’s stead. I see him by the weary bedside, -ministering with uncomplaining patience, praying with all his humble -heart that God will lift his master up, until death comes in mercy and -in honor to still the soldier’s agony and seal the soldier’s life. I see -him by the open grave, mute, motionless, uncovered, suffering for the -death of him who in life fought against his freedom. I see him when the -mound is heaped and the great drama of his life is closed, turn away and -with downcast eyes and uncertain step start out into new and strange -fields, faltering, struggling, but moving on, until his shambling figure -is lost in the light of this better and brighter day. And from the grave -comes a voice saying: “Follow him! Put your arms about him in his need, -even as he puts his about me. Be his friend as he was mine.” And out -into this new world—strange to me as to him, dazzling, bewildering -both—I follow! And may God forget my people—when they forget these! - -Whatever the future may hold for them—whether they plod along in the -servitude from which they have never been lifted since the Cyrenian was -laid hold upon by the Roman soldiers and made to bear the cross of the -fainting Christ—whether they find homes again in Africa, and thus hasten -the prophecy of the psalmist who said: “And suddenly Ethiopia shall hold -out her hands unto God”—whether, forever dislocated and separated, they -remain a weak people beset by stronger, and exist as the Turk, who lives -in the jealousy rather than in the conscience of Europe—or whether in -this miraculous Republic they break through the caste of twenty -centuries and, belying universal history, reach the full stature of -citizenship, and in peace maintain it—we shall give them uttermost -justice and abiding friendship. And whatever we do, into whatever -seeming estrangement we may be driven, nothing shall disturb the love we -bear this Republic, or mitigate our consecration to its service. I stand -here, Mr. President, to profess no new loyalty. When General Lee, whose -heart was the temple of our hopes and whose arm was clothed with our -strength, renewed his allegiance to the government of Appomattox, he -spoke from a heart too great to be false, and he spoke for every honest -man from Maryland to Texas. From that day to this, Hamilcar has nowhere -in the South sworn young Hannibal to hatred and vengeance—but everywhere -to loyalty and to love. Witness the soldier standing at the base of a -Confederate monument above the graves of his comrades, his empty sleeve -tossing in the April wind, adjuring the young men about him, to serve as -honest and loyal citizens the government against which their fathers -fought. This message, delivered from that sacred presence, has gone home -to the hearts of my fellows! And, sir, I declare here, if physical -courage be always equal to human aspiration, that they would die, sir, -if need be, to restore this Republic their fathers fought to dissolve! - -Such, Mr. President, is this problem as we see it; such is the temper in -which we approach it: such the progress made. What do we ask of you? -First, patience; out of this alone can come perfect work. Second, -confidence; in this alone can you judge fairly. Third, sympathy; in this -you can help us best. Fourth, give us your sons as hostages. When you -plant your capital in millions, send your sons that they may help know -how true are our hearts and may help to swell the Anglo-Saxon current -until it can carry without danger this black infusion. Fifth, loyalty to -the Republic—for there is sectionalism in loyalty as in estrangement. -This hour little needs the loyalty that is loyal to one section and yet -holds the other in enduring suspicion and estrangement. Give us the -broad and perfect loyalty that loves and trusts Georgia alike with -Massachusetts—that knows no south, no north, no east, no west; but -endears with equal and patriotic love every foot of our soil, every -State in our Union. - -A mighty duty, sir, and a mighty inspiration impels every one of us -to-night to lose in patriotic consecration whatever estranges, whatever -divides. We, sir, are Americans—and we fight for human liberty. The -uplifting force of the American idea is under every throne on earth. -France, Brazil—these are our victories. To redeem the earth from -kingcraft and oppression—this is our mission. And we shall not fail. God -has sown in our soil the seed of his millennial harvest, and he will not -lay the sickle to the ripening crop until his full and perfect day has -come. Our history, sir, has been a constant and expanding miracle from -Plymouth Rock and Jamestown all the way—aye, even from the hour when, -from the voiceless and trackless ocean, a new world rose to the sight of -the inspired sailor. As we approach the fourth centennial of that -stupendous day—when the old world will come to marvel and to learn, amid -our gathered treasures—let us resolve to crown the miracles of our past -with the spectacle of a Republic compact, united, indissoluble in the -bonds of love—loving from the lakes to the Gulf—the wounds of war healed -in every heart as on every hill—serene and resplendent at the summit of -human achievement and earthly glory—blazing out the path, and making -clear the way up which all the nations of the earth must come in God’s -appointed time! - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - BEFORE THE BAY STATE CLUB. - - ------- - -DURING MR. GRADY’S VISIT TO BOSTON, IN 1889, HE WAS A GUEST OF THE BAY - STATE CLUB, BEFORE WHOM HE DELIVERED THE FOLLOWING SPEECH: - - -MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN: I am confident you will not expect a speech -from me this afternoon, especially as my voice is in such a condition -that I can hardly talk. I am free to say that it is not a lack of -ability to talk, because I am a talker by inheritance. My father was an -Irishman, my mother was a woman; both talked. I came by it honestly. - -I don’t know how I could take up any discussion here on any topic apart -from the incidents of the past two days. I saw this morning Plymouth -Rock. I was pulled up on top of it and was told to make a speech. - -It reminded me of an old friend of mind, Judge Dooley, of Georgia, who -was a very provoking fellow and was always getting challenged to duels, -and never fighting them. He always got out of it by being smarter than -the other fellow. One day he went out to fight a man with one leg, and -he insisted on bringing along a bee gum and sticking one leg into it so -that he would have no more flesh exposed than his antagonist. On the -occasion I am thinking of, however, he went out to fight with a man who -had St. Vitus’s dance, and the fellow stood before him holding the -pistol cocked and primed, his hand shaking. The judge went quietly and -got a forked stick and stuck it up in front of him. - -“What’s that for?” said the man. - -“I want you to shoot with a rest, so that if you hit me you will bore -only one hole. If you shoot that way you will fill me full of holes with -one shot.” - -I was reminded of that and forced to tell my friends that I could not -think of speaking on top of Plymouth Rock without a rest. - -But I said this, and I want to say it here again, for I never knew how -true it was till I had heard myself say it and had taken the evidence of -my voice, as well as my thoughts—that there is no spot on earth that I -had rather have seen than that. I have a boy who is the pride and the -promise of my life, and God knows I want him to be a good citizen and a -good man, and there is no spot in all this broad Republic nor in all -this world where I had rather have him stand to learn the lessons of -right citizenship, of individual liberty, of fortitude and heroism and -justice, than the spot on which I stood this morning, reverent and -uncovered. - -Now, I do not intend to make a political speech, although when Mr. -Cleveland expressed some surprise at seeing me here, I said: “Why, I am -at home now; I was out visiting last night.” I was visiting mighty -clever folks, but still I was visiting. Now I am at home. - -It is the glory and the promise of Democracy, it seems to me, that its -success means more than partisanry can mean. I have been told that what -I said helped the Democratic party in this State. Well, the chief joy -that I feel at that, and that you feel, is that, beyond that and above -it, it helped those larger interests of the Republic, and those -essential interests of humanity that for seventy years the Democratic -party has stood for, being the guarantor and the defender. - -Now, Mr. Cleveland last night made—I trust this will not get into the -papers—one of the best Democratic speeches I ever heard in my life, and -yet all around sat Republicans cheering him to the echo. It was just -simply because he pitched his speech on a high key, and because he said -things that no man, no matter how partisan he was, could gainsay. - -Now it seems to me we do not care much for political success in the -South—for a simple question of spoils or of patronage. We wanted to see -one Democratic administration since General Lee surrendered at -Appomattox, just to prove to the people of this world that the South was -not the wrong-headed and impulsive and passionate section she was -represented to be. I heard last night from Mr. Cleveland, our great -leader, as he sat by me, that he held to be the miracle of modern -history the conservatism and the temperance and the quiet with which the -South accepted his election, and the few office-seekers in comparison -that came from that section to besiege and importune him. - -Now it seems to me that the struggle in this country, the great fight, -the roar and din of which we already hear, is a fight against the -consolidation of power, the concentration of capital, the diminution of -local sovereignty and the dwarfing of the individual citizen. Boston is -the home of the one section of a nationalist party that claims that the -remedy for all our troubles, the way in which Dives, who sits inside the -gate, shall be controlled, and the poor Lazarus who sits outside shall -be lifted up, is for the government to usurp the functions of the -citizen and take charge of all his affairs. It is the Democratic -doctrine that the citizen is the master and that the best guarantee of -this government is not garnered powers at the capital, but diffused -intelligence and liberty among the people. - -My friend, General Collins—who, by the way, captured my whole State and -absolutely conjured the ladies—when he came down there talked about this -to us, and he gave us a train of thought that we have improved to -advantage. - -It is the pride, I believe, of the South, with her simple faith and her -homogeneous people, that we elevate there the citizen above the party, -and the citizen above everything. We teach a man that his best guide at -least is his own conscience, that his sovereignty rests beneath his hat, -that his own right arm and his own stout heart are his best dependence; -that he should rely on his State for nothing that he can do for himself, -and on his government for nothing that his State can do for him; but -that he should stand upright and self-respecting, dowering his family in -the sweat of his brow, loving to his State, loyal to his Republic, -earnest in his allegiance wherever it rests, but building at last his -altars above his own hearthstone, and shrining his own liberty in his -own heart. That is a sentiment that I would not have been afraid to avow -last night. And yet it is mighty good democratic doctrine, too. - -I went to Washington the other day and I stood on the Capitol hill, and -my heart beat quick as I looked at the towering marble of my country’s -Capitol, and a mist gathered in my eyes as I thought of its tremendous -significance, of the armies and the treasury, and the judges and the -President, and the Congress and the courts, and all that was gathered -there; and I felt that the sun in all its course could not look down on -a better sight than that majestic home of a Republic that had taught the -world its best lessons of liberty. And I felt that if honor and wisdom -and justice abided therein, the world would at last owe that great house -in which the ark of the covenant of my country is lodged its final -uplifting and its regeneration. - -But a few days afterwards I went to visit a friend in the country, a -modest man, with a quiet country home. It was just a simple, -unpretentious house, set about with great trees and encircled in meadow -and field rich with the promise of harvest; the fragrance of the pink -and the hollyhock in the front yard was mingled with the aroma of the -orchard and the garden, and the resonant clucking of poultry and the hum -of bees. Inside was quiet, cleanliness, thrift and comfort. - -Outside there stood my friend, the master—a simple, independent, upright -man, with no mortgage on his roof, no lien on his growing crops—master -of his land and master of himself. There was his old father, an aged and -trembling man, but happy in the heart and home of his son. And, as he -started to enter his home, the hand of the old man went down on the -young man’s shoulder, laying there the unspeakable blessing of an -honored and honorable father, and ennobling it with the knighthood of -the fifth commandment. And as we approached the door the mother came, a -happy smile lighting up her face, while with the rich music of her heart -she bade her husband and her son welcome to their home. Beyond was the -housewife, busy with her domestic affairs, the loving helpmate of her -husband. Down the lane came the children after the cows, singing -sweetly, as like birds they sought the quiet of their nest. - -So the night came down on that house, falling gently as the wing from an -unseen dove. And the old man, while a startled bird called from the -forest and the trees thrilled with the cricket’s cry, and the stars were -falling from the sky, called the family around him and took the Bible -from the table and called them to their knees. The little baby hid in -the folds of its mother’s dress while he closed the record of that day -by calling down God’s blessing on that simple home. While I gazed, the -vision of the marble Capitol faded; forgotten were its treasuries and -its majesty; and I said: “Surely here in the homes of the people lodge -at last the strength and the responsibility of this government, the hope -and the promise of this Republic.” - -My friends, that is the democracy in the South; that is the democratic -doctrine we preach; a doctrine, sir, that is writ above our -hearthstones. We aim to make our homes, poor as they are, -self-respecting and independent. We try to make them temples of -refinement, in which our daughters may learn that woman’s best charm and -strength is her gentleness and her grace, and temples of liberty in -which our sons may learn that no power can justify and no treasure repay -for the surrender of the slightest right of a free individual American -citizen. - -Now you do not know how we love you Democrats. Had we better print that? -Yes, we do, of course we do. If a man does not love his home folks, who -should he love? We know how gallant a fight you have made here, not as -hard and hopeless as our friends in Vermont, but still an up-hill fight. -You have been doing better, much better. - -Now, gentlemen, I have some mighty good Democrats here. There is one of -the fattest and best in the world sitting right over there [pointing to -his partner, Mr. Howell]. - -You want to know about the South. My friends, we representative men will -tell you about it. I just want to say that we have had a hard time down -there. - -When my partner came out of the war he didn’t have any breeches. That is -an actual truth. Well, his wife, one of the best women that ever lived, -reared in the lap of luxury, took her old woolen dress that she had worn -during the war—and it had been a garment of sorrow and of consecration -and of heroism—and cut it up and made a good pair of breeches. He -started with that pair of breeches and with $5 in gold as his capital, -and he scraped up boards from amid the ashes of his home, and built him -a shanty of which love made a home and which courtesy made hospitable. -And now I believe he has with him three pairs of breeches and several -pairs at home. We have prospered down there. - -I attended a funeral once in Pickens county in my State. A funeral is -not usually a cheerful object to me unless I could select the subject. I -think I could, perhaps, without going a hundred miles from here, find -the material for one or two cheerful funerals. Still, this funeral was -peculiarly sad. It was a poor “one gallus” fellow, whose breeches struck -him under the armpits and hit him at the other end about the knee—he -didn’t believe in _decollete_ clothes. They buried him in the midst of a -marble quarry: they cut through solid marble to make his grave; and yet -a little tombstone they put above him was from Vermont. They buried him -in the heart of a pine forest, and yet the pine coffin was imported from -Cincinnati. They buried him within touch of an iron mine, and yet the -nails in his coffin and the iron in the shovel that dug his grave were -imported from Pittsburg. They buried him by the side of the best -sheep-grazing country on the earth, and yet the wool in the coffin bands -and the coffin bands themselves were brought from the North. The South -didn’t furnish a thing on earth for that funeral but the corpse and the -hole in the ground. There they put him away and the clods rattled down -on his coffin, and they buried him in a New York coat and a Boston pair -of shoes and a pair of breeches from Chicago and a shirt from -Cincinnati, leaving him nothing to carry into the next world with him to -remind him of the country in which he lived, and for which he fought for -four years, but the chill of blood in his veins and the marrow in his -bones. - -Now we have improved on that. We have got the biggest marble-cutting -establishment on earth within a hundred yards of that grave. We have got -a half-dozen woolen mills right around it, and iron mines, and iron -furnaces, and iron factories. We are coming to meet you. We are going to -take a noble revenge, as my friend, Mr. Carnegie, said last night, by -invading every inch of your territory with iron, as you invaded ours -twenty-nine years ago. - -A voice—I want to know if the tariff built up these industries down -there? - -Mr. Grady—The tariff? Well, to be perfectly frank with you, I think it -helped some; but you can bet your bottom dollar that we are Democrats -straight through from the soles of our feet to the top of our heads, and -Mr. Cleveland will not have if he runs again, which I am inclined to -think he ought to do, a stronger following. - -Now, I want to say one word about the reception we had here. It has been -a constant revelation of hospitality and kindness and brotherhood from -the whole people of this city to myself and my friends. It has touched -us beyond measure. - -I was struck with one thing last night. Every speaker that rose -expressed his confidence in the future and lasting glory of this -Republic. There may be men, and there are, who insist on getting up -fratricidal strife, and who infamously fan the embers of war that they -may raise them again into a blaze. But just as certain as there is a God -in the heavens, when those noisy insects of the hour have perished in -the heat that gave them life, and their pestilent tongues have ceased, -the great clock of this Republic will strike the slow-moving, tranquil -hours, and the watchman from the street will cry, “All is well with the -Republic; all is well.” - -We bring to you, from hearts that yearn for your confidence and for your -love, the message of fellowship from our homes. This message comes from -consecrated ground. The fields in which I played were the battle-fields -of this Republic, hallowed to you with the blood of your soldiers who -died in victory, and doubly sacred to us with the blood of ours who died -undaunted in defeat. All around my home are set the hills of Kennesaw, -all around the mountains and hills down which the gray flag fluttered to -defeat, and through which American soldiers from either side charged -like demigods; and I do not think I could bring you a false message from -those old hills and those sacred fields—witnesses twenty years ago in -their red desolation of the deathless valor of American arms and the -quenchless bravery of American hearts, and in their white peace and -tranquillity to-day of the imperishable Union of the American States and -the indestructible brotherhood of the American people. - -It is likely that I will not again see Bostonians assembled together. I -therefore want to take this occasion to thank you, and my excellent -friends of last night and those friends who accompanied us this morning -for all that you have done for us since we have been in your city, and -to say that whenever any of you come South just speak your name, and -remember that Boston or Massachusetts is the watchword, and we will meet -you at the gates. - - The monarch may forget the crown - That on his head so late hath been; - The bridegroom may forget the bride - Was made his own but yester e’en; - The mother may forget the babe - That smiled so sweetly on her knee; - But forget thee will I ne’er, Glencairn, - And all that thou hast done for me. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -[Illustration: - - HENRY W. GRADY’S ATLANTA HOME. -] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - WRITINGS. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - “SMALL JANE.” - - THE STORY OF A LITTLE HEROINE. - - ------- - -SINCE my experience with the case of “Sallie,” I feel a hesitation in -presenting a new heroine to the attention of the public. - -You see, I do not mind the real sorrow that I experienced when my -sincere efforts to improve the condition of this child came to naught. -But I was staggered and sickened by the fact that most of my friends -were rejoiced at her downfall. - -I do not remember anything that gave more genuine joy to the town than -the relapse of this wretched girl into the slums from which she had been -lifted. It was the occasion of general hilarity—this falling back of an -immortal soul into Death—this terrible spectacle of a child staggering -blindly from sunlight into shame. I was poked in the ribs facetiously. A -perfect shower of chuckles fell on my ear. It was the joke of the -season—this triumph of the Devil over the body of a girl. One mad young -wag, who, with a keen nose for a joke, followed her into her haunts of -crime, came back, his honest face convulsed with laughter, and bearing -on his lips a statement from her, to the literal effect that “I was a -d—d fool.” - -I was staggered, I say, at the enjoyment created by the downfall of this -girl. For myself, I can hardly imagine a more pitiful sight than her -childish figure, as with face averted and hands raised, blinded by the -white light of virtue and bewildered by her new condition, she slipped -back in despair to her old shame. I may be a “d—d fool,” but I cannot -find the heart to laugh at that. - -I don’t know how it is, but I have a mania for looking into cases of -this sort. It is not philanthropy with me; it is a disease. - -At the editorial desk, I sit opposite a young man of a high order of -mind. - -He makes it a point to compass the problems of nations. I dodge them. He -has settled, to his own agreement, every European problem of the past -decade. Those problems have settled me. He soars—I plod. Once in a -while, when he yearns for a listener, he reaches down for my scalp, and -lifts me up to his altitude, where I shiver and blink, until his -talented fingers relax, and I drop home. It delights him to adjust his -powerful mind to the contemplation of contending armies,—I swash around -with the swarm that hangs about me. - -His hero is Bismarck, that phlegmatic miracle that has yoked impulse to -an ox, and having made a chess-board of Europe, plays a quiet game with -the Pope. My hero is a blear-eyed sot, that having for four years waged -a gigantic battle with drink, and alternated between watery Reform and -positive Tremens, is now playing a vague and losing game with -Spontaneous Combustion. My friend discusses Bismarck’s projects with a -vastness of mind that actually makes his discourse dim, and I slip off -to try my hero’s temper, and see whether I shall have him wind his -intoxicated arms about my neck and envelop me in an atmosphere of whisky -and reform, or fall recumbent in the gutter, his weak but honest face -upturned to the sky, and his moist, white hand working vaguely upward -from his placid breast, in token of abject surrender. - -Bismarck is a bigger man than Bob. - -But I can’t help thinking that Bob is engaged in the most thrilling and -desperate conflict. Anyhow, I had rather see his watery eyes grow clear -and his paroxysmal arms grow steadfast, than to see Bismarck wipe out -every potentate in Europe. It’s a grave thing to watch the conflicts of -kings, and see nations embattled rushing against each other. But there -are greater and deeper conflicts waged in our midst every day, when the -legions of Despair swarm against stout hearts, and Hunger and Suffering -storm the citadel of human lives! - -But I started to tell you of my new heroine. - -Her name is Jane. - -She presented herself one morning about three months ago. A trim, -slender figure, the growth of nine years. It was such a small area of -poverty that I felt capable of attending to it myself. But I remembered -that small beggars usually represent productive but prostrated parents -and a brood of children. The smaller the beggar the larger the family. I -therefore summoned the good little woman who guides my household -affairs. - -She claims to be an expert in beggars. She has certain tests that she -applies to all comers. Her fundamental rule is that all applicants are -entitled to cold bread on first call. After this she either grades them -up to cake and preserves, or holds them to scraps. I remember that she -kept Col. Nash on dry biscuit for thirteen months, while other -applicants have gone up to pie in three visits. I never felt any -hesitation in taking her judgment after that, for of all wheedling -mendicants Col. Nash, the alleged scissors-grinder, takes the lead. - -But Jane was not a beggar. She carried on her arm a basket. It was -filled with some useless articles that she wanted to sell. Would the -lady look at them? Oh! of course! They were bits of splints embroidered -with gay worsted. What were they for? Why, she didn’t know. She just -thought somebody would buy them, and she needed some money so badly. - -“Who is your mother?” - -“I haven’t any. She is dead. I have a father, though.” - -“What does he do?” - -“He’s sick most of the time. He works when he is well.” - -“What’s his name?” - -“Robert ——!” - -(Saints! My “Bob!” Sick indeed! The weak rascal!) - -Jane was asked in, and I began to investigate. I learned that this child -was literally alone in the world. She had a sister, a puny two-year-old, -and a drunken father—my flabby friend. They lived in a rickety hovel, -out of which the last chair had been sold to pay rent. The mother, a -year an invalid, had been accustomed to work little trifles in splints -and worsted. She dying, the child picked up the splints, and worked -grotesque baby fancies in wood and worsted. She had no time for weeping. -Her hunger dried her eyes. The cooing baby by her side, crying for -bread, made her forget the dead mother. So she fashioned the splints -together, and with a brave heart went out to sell them. - -Bob reformed at the bedside of his dying wife. Possibly at that moment -the angels that had come to guide the woman home swept away the mist of -the man’s debauch, and gave him a glimpse of the pure life that lay -behind. Certain it is that his moist, uncertain hands crept vaguely up -the cover till they caught the wasted cheeks of his wife, and his shaggy -head bent down till his quivering lips found hers. And the poor wife, -yielding once more to the love that had outlived shame and desertion, -turned her eyes from her children and fixed them on her husband. Ah! how -this earthly hope and this earthly love chased even the serenity of -Heaven from her face, and lighted it with tender rapture! How quickly -this drunkard supplanted God in the dying woman’s soul? “Oh, Bob! my -darling!” she gasped, and raising her face toward him with a masterful -yearning, she died. - -“Mother didn’t seem to know we were there after father came,” Jane told -me. And I wondered if the child had not been hurt, that all her months -of patient love and watching had been forgotten in a tempest of love for -a vagabond husband that had wrought nothing but disaster and death. - -After the funeral, through which he went in a dazed sort of stupor, Bob -got drunk, I don’t know why or how. He seemed tenderer since then than -before. I noticed that he reformed oftener and got over it quicker. A -piece of crape that Jane had fixed about his hat seemed to possess -sacred properties to him. When he touched it and swore abstinence, he -generally held out two or three days. One night, as he lay in the -gutter, a cow, full of respect for his person, and yet unable to utterly -control her hunger, chewed his hat. Since then he seemed to have lost -his moorings, and drifted about on a currentless drunk. - -He was always kind to Jane and the little biddie. In his maudlin way he -would caress them, and cry over them, and reform with them, and promise -to work for them. Even when he ate their last crust of bread, he -accompanied the action with a sort of fumbling pomposity that robbed it -of its horror. He never did it without promising to go out at once and -bring back a sack of flour. Once he went so high as to promise four -sacks. So that the child, in love like her mother with the old rascal, -and like her mother fresh always in faith, was rather rejoiced than -otherwise when he ate the bread. Did he bring the flour? - -“Why, how could he? They had to bring him home. So of course I did not -blame him. Poor father!” - -I must do Bob the justice to say that he never earned a cent in all -these days that he did not intend giving to Jane. Of course he never did -it, but I desire him to have the credit of his intention. If the Lord -held the best of us strictly to performance and ruled out intention, we -wouldn’t be much better in his sight than Bob is in ours. - -One day I was sitting behind a window looking at Jane, who stood in the -kitchen door. Her oldish-looking, chipper little face was turned -straight to me. It was a pretty face. The brown eyes were softened with -suffering, and fear and anxiety had driven all color from her thin -cheeks. I noticed that her mouth was never still. Though she was alone -and silent, her lips quivered and trembled all the time. At times they -would break into a dumb sob. Then she would draw them firmly together. -Again they would twitch convulsively in the terrible semblance of a -smile. Then in that pretty, feminine way she would pucker them together. - -Long suffering had racked the child until she was all awry, and her -nerves were plunging through her tender frame like devils. - -“Jane, were you ever hungry?” - -“Sir!” and she started painfully, while her starved heart managed to -send a thin coating of scarlet into her cheeks. She was a proud little -body, and never talked of her sorrows. - -May the Lord forgive me for repeating the question! - -“Sometimes, sir, when I couldn’t sell anything. Last Saturday we had -only some bread for dinner. We never had anything else until Sunday -night. I wouldn’t have minded it then, but Mary cried so for bread that -I went out, and a lady that I knew gave me some things.” - -Now, think of that. From a crust at Saturday noon, on nothing till -Sunday night. Of all the abundant marketing of Saturday evening; of all -the luxuries of Sunday breakfast and dinner, not a crumb for this poor -child. While we were dressing our children for their trip to -Sunday-school, or their romp over the hills, this poor child, gnawed by -hunger, deserted by her drunken father, holding a starving baby, sat -crouched in a hovel, given up to despair and hopelessness. And that, -too, within the sound of the bells that made the church-steeples thrill -with music, and called God’s people to church! - -A friend who had heard Jane’s story had given me three dollars for her. -I gave it to her, and told her that as her rent was paid, she could with -this lay in some provisions. She was crying then, but she dried her -tears and hurried off. - - * * * * * - -“Will you please come here and look?” called a lady whose call I always -obey, about an hour afterward. - -I went, and there stood Jane, flushed and happy. - -“I declare I am astonished at this child!” said the lady. - -And therewith she displayed Jane’s purchases. A little meal and meat had -been sent home. The rest she had with her. First, there was a goblet of -strained honey; then a bundle of candy “for baby,” a package of tea “for -father,” and a chip straw hat, with three gayly colored ribbons, “for -herself.” And that’s where the money had gone! - -“I am just put out with her,” said the arbitress of my affairs, after -Jane had gathered up her treasures and departed. “To waste her money -like that! I can imagine how the poor, half-starved child couldn’t help -buying the honey-goblet; I should die myself if I didn’t have something -sweet; but how she came to buy that hat and ribbons I can’t see!” - -Ah, blue-eyed woman! There’s a yearning in the feminine soul stronger -than hunger. There’s a passion there that starvation cannot conquer. The -hat and ribbons were bought in response to that craving. The hat, I’ll -bet thee, was bought before the honey,—aye, before the meal or meat. -“Can’t understand it?” Then, my spouse, I’ll explain: Jane is a woman! - -I must confess that I was pleased at the misdirection of Jane’s funds. -Have you ever had a child deep in a long-continued stupor from fever? -How delighted you were then when, tempted by some trifle, he gave signs -of eagerness! So I was rejoiced to see that the long years of suffering -had not crushed hope and emotion out of this girl’s life. - -The tea and the candy showed that her affections, working up to the -father and drawn to the baby, were all right. The honey gave evidence -that the fresh impulses of childhood had not been nipped and chilled. -The hat and ribbons—best and most hopeful purchase of all—proved that -the womanly vanity and love of prettiness still fluttered in her young -soul. Nothing is so charming and so feminine in woman as the passion for -dress. Laugh at it as we may, I think that men will agree that there is -nothing so pathetic as a young woman out of whom all hope of fine -appearance has been pressed. A gay ribbon is the sign in which woman -conquers. I wager that Eve made a neat, many-colored thing of -fig-leaves. - -But to return to Jane. - -I know that this desultory sketch should be closed with something -unusual. Jane should die or get married. But she’s too young for either. -And so her life is running on ever. She plods the streets as she used to -do. She has quit selling the flaming scraps she used to sell, and now -knits her young but resolute brow over crochet work, which she sells at -marvelous prices. Her path is flecked with more sunshine than ever -before, and at Sunday-school she is as smart a little woman as can be -seen. If the shadow of a staggering figure, that falls so often across -her course, could be lifted, she would have little else to grieve over. -Not that she complains of this—not a bit of it. “Poor father is sick so -much. How can he be expected to work?” And so she goes on, with her -woman’s nature clinging to him closer than ever; even as the ivy clings -to the old ruin. Hiding his shame from the world, wrapping him in the -plenitude of her faith, and binding up his shattered resolves with her -heart-strings. - -And as for Bob: - -I am strongly tempted to tell a lie, and say that he is either sober or -dead. But he is neither. He is the same shiftless, irresponsible fellow -that I have known for three years. His face is heavier, his eyes are -smaller, his nose redder, his flesh more moist than ever. But in the -depth of his debauch there seems to have been winged some idea of the -excellence of Jane’s life, and the fineness of her martyrdom. He catches -me anywhere he sees me, and, falling on my shirt-front, weeps copious -tears of praise and pop-skull, while talking of her. He swears by her. - -By the way, I must do him justice. Yesterday he came to me very much -affected. He was white-lipped, and trembling, and hungry. He had spent -the night in the gutter, and the policeman who was scattering the -disinfecting lime, either careless or wise beyond his kind, had powdered -him all over. He seemed to be terribly in earnest. He raised his -trembling hand to his hat and touched the place where the crape used to -be, and swore that he intended to reform, for good and all. “S’elp me -Jane!” he said. - -I have not seen him since. I hope that the iron has at last entered his -soul and will hold him steadfast. Ha! that sounds like him stumbling up -the steps now. Hey! he has rolled back to the bottom! Here he comes -again. That must be him. “Of course!” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - DOBBS! - - A THUMBNAIL SKETCH OF A MARTYR. - - ------- - - -I AM proud of my acquaintance with Dobbs. - -He was a hero, whose deeds were not spread upon any of the books of men, -but whose martyrdom I am sure illustrates a glowing page in God’s great -life book. - -I met him late one night. - -The paper, with its burden of news and gossip, had just been put to -press, and I strolled out of the hot, clanking room to catch a sight of -the cool morning stars, and a whiff of the dew-laden breezes of the -dawn. - -Silhouetted against the intercepted stars, I saw a tall and striking -form, standing like a statue on the corner. - -As I came out of the door the figure approached. - -“Is this the _Herald_ office, sir?” - -“Yes, sir. Can I serve you in any way?” - -“Well—” hesitating for an instant, and then speaking boldly and sharply, -“I wanted to know if you could not trust me for a few papers?” - -“I suppose so; walk in to the light.” - -I shall never forget the impression Dobbs made on me that night, as we -two walked in from the starlight to the glare of the gas-burners. - - - A BLAZE OF HONESTY. - -As I have said before, he had a tall and striking figure. His face was -ugly. He was ungraceful, ragged, and uncouth. Yet there was a splendid -glow of honesty that shone from every feature, and challenged your -admiration. It was not that cheap honesty that suffuses the face of your -average honest man; but a vivid burst of light that, fed by principle, -sent its glow from the heart. It was not the passive honesty that is the -portion of men who have no need to steal, but the triumphant honesty -that has grappled with poverty, with disease, with despair, and -conquered the whole devil’s brood of temptation; the honesty that has -been sorely tried, the honesty of martyrdom; the honesty of heroism. He -was the honestest man I ever knew. - - - THE PATHOS OF INCONGRUITY. - -There was one feature of his dress that was pathetic in its uniqueness. -He wore a superb swallow-tail dress-coat; a gorgeous coat, which was -doubtless christened at some happy wedding (his father’s, I suppose); -had walked side by side with dainty laces; been swept through stately -quadrilles, pressed upon velvet, and to-night came to me upon a -shirtless back, and asked “trust” for a half-dozen newspapers. - -It had that seedy, threadbare look which makes broadcloth, after its -first season, the most melancholy dress that sombre ingenuity ever -invented. It was scrupulously brushed and buttoned close up to the chin, -whether to hide the lack of a shirt, I never in the course of six -months’ intimate acquaintance had the audacity to inquire. In the -sleeve, on which rosy wrists had, in days gone by, laid in loving -confidence, a shriveled arm hung loosely, and from its outlet three -decrepit fingers driveled. His hat was old, and fell around his ears. - -His breeches, of a whitish material, which had the peculiarity of -leaving the office perfectly dirty one evening and coming back pure and -clean the next morning. What amount of midnight scrubbing this required -from my hero Dobbs, I will not attempt to tell. Neither will I guess how -he became possessed of that wonderful coat. Whether in the direst days -of the poverty which had caught him, his old mother, pitying her boy’s -rags, had fished it up from the bottom of a trunk where, with mayhaps an -orange-wreath or a bit of white veil, it had lain for years, the last -token of a happy bridal night, and, baptizing it with her tears, had -thrown it around his bare shoulders, I cannot tell. All I know is, that -taken in connection with the rest of his attire, it was startling in its -contrast; and that I honored the brave dignity with which he buttoned -this magnificent coat against his honest rags, and strode out to meet -the jeers of the world and work out a living. - - - FIVE DOLLARS A WEEK. - -I knew Dobbs for six months! Day after day I saw him come at three -o’clock in the morning. I saw his pale face, and that coat so audacious -in its fineness, go to the press-room, fold his papers, and hurry out -into the weather. One night I stopped him. - -“Dobbs,” says I, “how much do you make a week?” - -“I average five dollars and twenty cents, sir. I have twenty-seven -regular customers. I get the paper at fifteen cents a week from you, and -sell it to them at twenty-five cents. I make two dollars and seventy -cents off of them, and then I sell about twenty-five extra papers a -morning.” - -“What do you do with your money?” - -“It takes nearly all of it to support me and mother.” - -“You don’t mean to tell me that you and your mother live on five dollars -and twenty cents a week?” - -“Yes, sir, we do, and pay five dollars a month rent out of that. We live -pretty well, too,” with a smile, possibly induced by the vision of some -of those luxuries which were included under the head of “living pretty -well.” I was crushed! - -_Five dollars and twenty-five cents a week!_ The sum which I waste per -week upon cigars. The paltry amount which I pay almost any night at the -theater. The sum that I spend any night I may chance to strike a -half-dozen boon companions. This sum, so contemptible to me—wasted so -lightly—I find to be the sum total of the income of a whole family—the -whole support of two human beings. - -I left Dobbs, humiliated and crushed. I pulled my hat over my eyes, -strolled down to Mercer’s, and bought a twenty-five cent cigar and sat -down to think over my duty in the premises. - - * * * * * - -... One morning the book-keeper of the _Herald_, to whom my admiration -for Dobbs was well known (I having frequently delivered glowing lectures -upon his character from the mailing table to an audience of carriers, -clerks, and printers), approached me and with a devilish smack of joy in -his voice, says: - -“I am afraid your man Dobbs is a fraud. Some time ago he persuaded the -clerk to give him credit on papers. He ran up a bill of about seven -dollars, and then melted from our view. We have not seen or heard of him -since—expect he’s gone to trading with the _Constitution_ now, to bilk -them out of a bill.” - -This looked bad—but somehow or other I still had a firm faith in my -hero. God had written “honesty” too plain in his face for my confidence -in him to be shaken. I knew that if he had sinned or deceived, that it -was starvation or despair that had driven him to it, and I forgave him -even before I knew he was guilty.... - - * * * * * - -About a week after this happened, a bombazine female—one of those -melancholy women that occasionally arise like some Banquo’s ghost in my -pathway, and always, I scarce know why, put remorse to twitching at my -heart-strings—came into my sanctum and asked for me. - -“I am the mother,” says she, in a voice which sorrow (or snuff) had -filled with tears and quavers—“of Mr. Dobbs, a young man who used to buy -papers from you. He left owing you a little, and asked me to see you -about it.” - -“Left? Where has he gone?” - -“To heaven, I hope, sir! He is dead!” - -“Dead?” - - - A CONSCIENTIOUS DEBTOR. - -“Yes, sir; my poor boy went last Thursday. He were all I had on earth, -but he suffered so it seemed like a mercy to let him go. He were worried -to the last about a debt he was owin’ of you. He said you had been -clever to him, and would think hard ef he didn’t pay you. He wanted you -to come and see him so he could explain as how he were took down with -the rheumatizum, but that were no one to nuss him while I come for you. -He had owin’ to him when he were took, about three dollars, which he -have an account of in this little book. He told me with his last breath -to cullect this money, and not to use a cent tell I had paid you, and if -I didn’t git enough, to turn you over the book. I hev took in one dollar -and tirty cents, and”—with the air of one who has fought the good -fight—“here it is!” So saying, she ran her hand into a gash in the -bombazine, which looked like a grievous wound, and pulled out one of -those long cloth purses that always reminded me of the entrails of some -unfortunate dead animal, and counted out the money. This she handed me -with the book. - -I ran my eye over the ruggedly kept accounts and found that each man -owed from a dime up to fifty cents. - -“Why, madam,” says I, “these accounts are not worth collecting.” - -“That’s what he was afraid of,” says she, moving toward a bundle that -lay upon the floor; “he told me if you said so, to give you this, and -ask you to sell it if you could, and make your money. It’s all he had, -sir, or me, either, and he wouldn’t die easy ’til I told him I wud do -it! God knows”—and the tears rolled down her thin and hollow cheeks—“God -knows it were a struggle to promise to give it up. He wore it, and his -father before him. How many times it has covered ’em both! I had hoped -to carry it to the end with me, and wrap my old body in it when I died. -But it was all we had which was fine, and he wouldn’t rest ’til I told -him I wud give it to you. Then he smiled as pert-like as a child, and -kissed me, and says, ‘Now I am ready to go!’ He were a good boy, sir, as -ever lived”—and she rocked her old body to and fro with her grief. Need -I say that she had offered me the old dress-coat? That sacred garment, -blessed with the memory of her son and his father, and which, rather -than give up, she would willingly pluck either of the withered arms that -hung at her sides from its socket! - -I dropped my eyes to the account book again—for what purpose I am not -ashamed that the reader may guess. - -In a few moments I spoke: - -“Madam, I was mistaken in the value of these accounts; most of the -debtors on this book, I find upon a second look, are capitalists. The -$11 worth of accounts will sell for $12 anywhere. Your son owed me $7. -Leave the book with me; I will pay myself, and here is $5 balance which -I hand to you. Your son was a good boy, and I feel honored that I can -serve his mother.” - -She folded the old coat up and departed. - -I kept the book. - -It was a simple record of Dobbs’s life. Here ran his expense list—a -dreary trickle of “bacon” and “meal” and “rent,” enlivened only once -with “sugar”; a saccharine suggestion that I am unable to account for, -as it surely did not comport with either of the staples that formed the -basis of his life. Probably, on some grand occasion, he and his mother -ate it in the lump. - -Here were his accounts, of say fifty cents each, on men accounted -responsible in the world’s eye—accounts for papers furnished through -snow, and sleet, and rain! Some of them showed signs of having been -called for a dozen times, being frescoed with such notes as “Call -Tuesday,” “Call Wednesday,” “Call Thursday,” etc. - -On another page was a pathetic list of delusive liniments and medicines, -with which he had attacked his stubborn disease. Such as, “King of -Pane—kored a man in Maryetti in 2 days, $1.00”; “Magic Linament—kores in -10 minnits, $2.00 a bottel”; and so on through the whole catalogue of -snares which the patent office turns out year after year. Poor fellow! -the only relief he got from his racking pains was when God laid his -healing hand on him. - -I shall keep the book as long as I live. - -In its thumbed and greasy leaves is written the record of a heroism more -lofty and a martyrdom more lustrous than ever lit the page of book -before or since. - -I think I shall have it printed in duplicate, and scattered as leaven -throughout the lumpy Sunday-school libraries of the land. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - A CORNER LOT. - - ------- - -“HE has been at that for thirteen years.” - -And the speaker laughed as he watched an old man gathering up a bucket -of stones and broken bricks. The old man continued his work until his -bucket was filled, and then started back toward Spring Street, stopping -on the way to resurrect a rusted old hoop that was nearly buried in the -gutter. - -After walking about three blocks he stopped at the corner of Spring and -James streets, and laying the rusty hoop carefully upon a great heap of -hoops of all kinds and sizes, he carried the bucket to the back of his -lot, a part of which was considerably lower than the front, and emptied -the bucketful of bricks and stones. - -He was a very old man—about seventy years old, apparently—in his -shirt-sleeves, and wearing a dingy straw hat. He was feeble, too, and -his steps were slow, but he stopped only to get a drink of water at the -back door, and then ambled off with the empty bucket. - -The little frame structure is half store and half residence. Just inside -the door to the store sat a portly old lady of sixty or thereabouts. -“Who is that old man yonder with that empty bucket?” - -“Him! Why that’s old man Lewis Powell, and he’s my husband. I thought -everybody knowed him.” - -“Is that all he does?” - -“Fill up the lot, you mean? No, no, he puts hoops on barrels and kegs, -and raises calves and such like, but that’s his main business. He’s been -at it now for nigh on to fourteen years.” - -“And how much has he filled in?” - -“Oh, from the sidewalk on back. The lot is fifty by eighty, and it used -to be just one big hole. Now here on Spring Street where the front is, -the bank went nearly straight down ’cause the eye of the sewer was right -there. Then the sewer was open and run in a gully the whole length of -the lot, and just about in the middle of the lot. Here on James Street, -at the side there, it wasn’t so steep. The front of the old house was -about half-way down the bank, and the pillars at the back was over ten -feet high. The house wasn’t more’n twelve feet that way, either, so you -can tell how steep it was. And right at the back door the sewer passed.” - -“How deep was it?” - -“Well, right here at the front the city men measured to the sewer once, -and it was a little over twenty feet below the sidewalk. The back of the -lot was a little lower. It was one big hole fifty by eighty, and almost -in the bottom of it was the old house.” - -“Fourteen years ago.” - -“Fourteen years ago we bought it from Jack Smith on time. It wasn’t -much, but me and Jenny and Joe and Stella just buckled down and worked -like tigers. The neighbors made fun of us at first, and even the niggers -thought it was funny. Now, I aint telling you this because I’m stuck up -about it, but it just shows what the Powell family has done, and it -shows what any poor folks can do if they just stick at it.” - -“Didn’t the old man help?” - -“Yes, a little. But we had to live, and then he spent lots of his time -a-fillin’ up, so the brunt of the money part fell on me and the -children. We bought the mudhole, and he made the mudhole what it is now. -Right here where the mudhole was there is a corner lot, and them what -used to laugh at us would like mighty well to own it now.” - -And the old lady smiled as though the thought was a very pleasant one. - -“Yes, sir,” she continued, “it’s worth a good deal now, and the first -thing you know, when the streets get paved along here, it will be worth -a lot more than it is now.” - -“And the old man?” - -“The old man has worked mighty faithful. Little at a time he has fetched -dirt, and rocks, and bricks, and trash. Then the city put a pipe there -for the sewer, and he begun at the sidewalk on Spring Street and filled -back. The bank kept getting further and further, and after, I don’t know -how long, we built this little house on the filled-in part. The old man -kept fillin’ back till we’ve got a pretty big back yard; and there’s -only a little part left to fill back there. You see, he never tore up -the old house—the patchwork palace of ’77—just throwed in around it and -in it till he has almost buried it.” - -“Why?” - -“Oh, it’s just a notion of his. He didn’t want to see the old house tore -up, and there it is now, with just the roof stickin’ out. In a little -while it will be one level yard, fifty by eighty, and a corner lot, too. -And by the time it all gets filled up—well, me and the old man is -gettin’ feeble now, and we won’t last much longer. But, now that we are -all out of debt, and just enough left to do to keep the old man’s hand -in, it does me good to think of that old mudhole, and how we had to save -and slave and pinch to pay for it. And I think the old man likes to -stand there at the corner and look back how level and smooth it is, and -think how it was done, a handful at a time, through the rain and the -snow and the sunshine. Fourteen years! It was a big job, but we stuck to -it, and I’m restin’ now, for my work is done. The old man don’t work -like he used to, but he says his job aint finished yet, and he keeps -fillin’ up.” - -“And when his work is done—” - -“Then he’ll rest, too.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE ATHEISTIC TIDE SWEEPING OVER THE CONTINENT. - - ------- - -THE THREATENED DESTRUCTION OF THE SIMPLE FAITH OF THE FATHERS BY THE - VAIN DECEITS OF MODERN PHILOSOPHERS.—AN ATTACK CHRISTIANS MUST MEET. - - - ------- - - [WRITTEN FOR THE CONSTITUTION, 1881.] - -NEW YORK, January 26.—The dread of the times, as I see it, is the -growing skepticism in the leading circles of thought and action -throughout the country—a swelling tide of atheism and unbelief that has -already swept over the outposts of religion. - -I am not alarmed by the fact that Henry Ward Beecher shook hands with -Ingersoll on a public stand, and has since swung beyond the limit of -orthodoxy, any more than I am reassured by the fact that Stephen H. Tyng -has, by indorsing the miracles at Lourdes, swung back into the -stronghold of superstition. These are mere personal expressions that may -mean much or little. They may be classed with the complaint of Dr. -Talmage that he found religion dead in a circuit of 3000 miles of travel -last year, which complaint is balanced by the assertion of Dr. Hall that -the growth of religious sentiment was never so decisive as at present. - -I have noted, in the first place, that the latter-day writers—novelists, -scientists and essayists—are arraying themselves in great force either -openly on the side of skepticism, or are treating religious sentiment -with a readiness of touch and lack of reverence, that is hardly less -dangerous. I need not run over the lists of scientists, beginning with -Tyndall, Huxley and Stephens, that have raised the banner of -negation—nor recount the number of novelists who follow the lead of -sweet George Eliot, this sad and gentle woman, who allied sentiment to -positivism so subtly, and who died with the promise on her lips that her -life would “be gathered like a scroll in the tomb, unread forever”—who -said that she “wanted no future that broke the ties of the past,” and -has gone to meet the God whose existence she denied. We all know that -within the past twenty years there has been an alarming increase of -atheism among the leading writers in all branches. But it is the growth -of skepticism among the people that has astonished me. - -I am not misled by the superb eloquence of Ingersoll nor the noisy -blasphemy of his imitators. I was with five journalists, and I found -that every one of them were skeptics, two of them in the most emphatic -sense. In a sleeping-car with eight passengers, average people I take -it, I found that three were confirmed atheists, three were doubtful -about it, and two were old-fashioned Christians. A young friend of mine, -a journalist and lecturer, asked me a few months ago what I thought of -his preparing a lecture that would outdo Ingersoll—his excuse being that -he found Ingersoll so popular. I asked Henry Watterson once what effect -Ingersoll’s lectures had on the Louisville public. “No more than a -theatrical representation,” was the quick reply. Watterson was wrong. I -have never seen a man who came away from an Ingersoll lecture as stout -of faith and as strong in heart as he was when he went there. - -I do not know that this spirit of irreligion and unbelief has made much -inroad on the churches. It is as yet simply eating away the material -upon which the churches must recruit and perpetuate themselves. There is -a large body of men and women, the bulk probably of our population, that -is between the church and its enemies; not members of the church or open -professors of religion, they have yet had reverence for the religious -beliefs, have respected the rule of conscience, and believed in the -existence of one Supreme Being. These men and women have been useful to -the cause of religion, in that they held all the outposts about the camp -of the church militant, and protected it with enwrapping conservatism -and sympathy. It is this class of people that are now yielding to the -assaults of the infidel. Having none of the inspiration of religion, and -possessing neither the enthusiasm of converts nor the faith of veterans, -they are easily bewildered and overcome. It is a careless and unthinking -multitude on which the atheists are working, and the very inertia of a -mob will carry thousands if the drift of the mass once floats to the -ocean. And the man or woman who rides on the ebbing tide goes never to -return. Religious beliefs once shattered are hardly mended. The church -may reclaim its sinners, but its skeptics, never. - -It is not surprising that this period of critical investigation into all -creeds and beliefs has come. It is a logical epoch, come in its -appointed time. It is one of the penalties of progress. We have stripped -all the earth of mystery, and brought all its phenomena under the square -and compass, so that we might have expected science to doubt the mystery -of life itself, and to plant its theodolite for a measurement of the -Eternal, and pitched its crucible for an analysis of the soul. It was -natural that the Greek should be led to the worship of his physical -gods, for the earth itself was a mystery that he could not divine—a -vastness and vagueness that he could not comprehend. But we have -fathomed its uttermost secret; felt its most secret pulse, girdled it -with steel, harnessed it and trapped it to our liking. What was mystery -is now demonstrated; what was vague is now apparent. Science has -dispelled illusion after illusion, struck down error after error, made -plain all that was vague on earth, and reduced every mystery to -demonstration. It is little wonder then that, at last having reduced all -the illusions of matter to an equation, and anchored every theory to a -fixed formula, it should assail the mystery of life itself, and warn the -world that science would yet furnish the key to the problem of the soul. -The obelisk, plucked from the heart of Egypt, rests upon a shore that -was as vaguely and infinitely beyond the knowledge or aspiration of its -builders as the shores of a star that lights the space beyond our vision -are to us to-day; the Chinaman jostles us in the streets, and the -centuries that look through his dreamy eyes have lost all sense of -wonder; ships that were freighted from the heart of Africa lie in our -harbor, and our market-places are vocal with more tongues than -bewildered the builders at Babel; a letter slips around the earth in -ninety days, and the messages of men flash along the bed of the ocean; -we tell the secrets of the universe as a woman tells her beads, and the -stars whirl serenely through orbits that science has defined; we even -read of the instant when the comet that plunged in dim illimitable -distance, where even the separate stars are lost in mist and vapor, -shall whirl again into the vision of man, a wanderer that could not -shake off the inexorable supervision of science, even in the chill and -measureless depths of the universe. Fit time is this, then, for science -to make its last and supreme assault—to challenge the last and supreme -mystery—defy the last and supreme force. And the church may gird itself -for the conflict! As the Pope has said, “It is no longer a rebel that -threatens the church. It is a belligerent!” It is no longer a shading of -creed. It is the upsettal of all creeds that is attempted. - -It is impossible to conceive the misery and the blindness that will come -in the wake of the spreading atheism. The ancients witnessed the fall of -a hundred creeds, but still had a hundred left. The vast mystery of life -hung above them, but was lit with religions that were sprinkled as stars -in its depths. From a host of censers was their air made rich with -fragrance, and warmed from a field of altars. No loss was irreparable. -But with us it is different. We have reached the end. Destroy our one -belief and we are left hopeless, helpless, blind. Our air will be -odorless, chill, colorless. Huxley, the leader of the positivists, -himself confesses—I quote from memory: “Never, in the history of man, -has a calamity so terrific befallen the race, as this advancing deluge, -black with destruction, uprooting our most cherished hopes, engulfing -our most precious creed, and burying our highest life in mindless -desolation.” And yet Mr. Huxley urges on this deluge with furious -energy. The aggressiveness of the atheists is inexplicable to me. Why -they should insist on destroying a system that is pure and ennobling, -when they have nothing to replace it with; why they should shatter a -faith that colors life, only to leave it colorless; why they should rob -life of all that makes life worth living; why they should take away the -consolation that lifts men and women from the despair of bereavement and -desolation, or the light that guides the feet of struggling humanity, or -the hope that robs even the grave of its terror,—why they should do all -this, and then stand empty-handed and unresponsive before the yearning -and supplicating people they have stripped of all that is precious, is -more than I can understand. The best atheist, to my mind, that I ever -knew, was one who sent his children to a convent for their education. “I -cannot lift the blight of unbelief from my own mind,” he said, “but it -shall never fall upon the minds of my children if I can help it. As for -me, I would give all I have on earth for the old faith that I wore so -lightly and threw off so carelessly.” - -The practical effects of the growth of atheism are too terrible to -contemplate. A vessel on an unknown sea that has lost its rudder and is -tossed in a storm—that’s the picture. It will not do for Mr. Ingersoll -to say that a purely human code of right and wrong can be established to -which the passions of men can be anchored and from which they can swing -with safety. It will not do for him to cite his own correct life or the -correct lives of the skeptical scientists, or of leading skeptics, as -proof that unbelief does not bring license. These men are held to -decency by a pride of position and by a sense of special responsibility. -It is the masses that atheism will demoralize and debauch. It is -thousands of simple men and women, who, loosed of the one restraint that -is absolute and imperious, will drift upon the current of their -passions, colliding everywhere, and bringing confusion and ruin. The -vastly greatest influence that religion has exercised, as far as the -world goes, has been the conservative pressure that it has put upon the -bulk of the people, who are outside of the church. With the pressure -barely felt and still less acknowledged, it has preserved the integrity -of society, kept the dangerous instincts within bounds, repressed -savagery, and held the balance. Conscience has dominated men who never -confessed even to themselves its power, and the dim, religious memories -of childhood, breathing imperceptibly over long wastes of sin and -brutality, have dissolved clouds of passion in the souls of veterans. -Atheism will not work its full effect on this class of men. Even after -they have murdered conscience by withholding the breath upon which it -lives, its ghost will grope through the chambers of their brain, -menacing and terrible, and to the last,— - - Creeping on a broken wing - Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear! - -It is on the young men and women—the generation bred in the chill -atmosphere of unbelief—that atheism will do its worst. With no -traditions in which to guide their faith, no altar before which they can -do reverence, no ideal to which their eyes can turn, no standard lofty -enough to satisfy, or steadfast enough to assure—with no uplifting that -is not limited, no aspiration that has wings, and no enthusiasm that is -not absurd—with life but a fever that kindles in the cradle and dies in -the grave,—truly atheism meets youth with a dread prospect, sullen, -storm-swept, hopeless. - -In the conflict that is coming, the church is impregnable, because the -church is right; because it is founded on a rock. The scientists boast -that they have evolved everything logically from the first particles of -matter; that from the crystal rock to sentient man is a steady way, -marked by natural gradations. They even say that, if a new bulk were -thrown off from the sun to-morrow it would spin into the face of the -earth, and the same development that has crowned the earth with life -would take place in the new world. And yet Tyndall says: “We have -exhausted physics, and reached its very rim, and yet a mighty mystery -looms up before us.” And this mystery is the kindling of the atoms of -the brain with the vital spark. There science is baffled, for there is -the supreme force that is veiled eternally from the vision of man. - -The church is not bound to the technicalities of argument in this -contest. It has the perfect right to say, and say logically, that -something must rest on faith—that there must be something in the heart -or soul before conviction can be made perfect. Just as we cannot impress -with the ecstasies and transports of earthly love a man who has never -loved, or paint a rainbow to a man who has never seen. And yet the time -has passed when religion can dismiss the skeptic with a shriek or a -sneer. I read one little book a year ago, gentle, firm, decisive; a book -that demonstrated the necessity and existence of the Supreme Being, as -clearly and as closely as a mathematical proposition was worked out. But -the strength of the church is, after all, the high-minded consistency of -its members; the warmth and earnestness of its evangelism; the purity -and gentleness of its apostles. If the creeds are put at peace, and -every man who wears the Christian armor will go forth to plead the cause -of the meek and lowly Nazarene, whose love steals into the heart of man -as the balm of flowers into the pulses of a summer evening—then we shall -see the hosts of doubt and skepticism put to rout. - -Of course I have no business to write all this. It is the province of -the preachers to talk of these things, and many no doubt will resent as -impertinent even the suggestion of a worldling. And yet it seems so sure -to me that in the swift and silent marshaling of the hosts of unbelief -and irreligion there is presaged the supremest test that the faith of -Christians has ever undergone, that I felt impelled to write. There are -men, outside of the active workers of the church, who have all reverence -for its institutions and love for its leaders; whose hearts are stirred -now and then by a faith caught at a mother’s knee, or the memory of some -rapt and happy moment; who want to live, if not in the fold of the -chosen, at least in the shadow of the Christian sentiment, and among the -people dominated by Christian faith; and who hope to die at last, in the -same trust and peace that moved the dying Shakespeare—wisest, sweetest -mind ever clothed in mortal flesh—when he said: “I commend my soul into -the hands of God, my Creator, hoping and assuredly believing, through -the only merits of Jesus Christ, my Saviour, to be made partaker of life -everlasting.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ON THE OCEAN WAVE. - - ------- - - AN AMATEUR’S EXPERIENCE ON A STEAMSHIP. - - ------- - -A VERY TALL STORY.—THE FIRST IMPRESSIONS.—A SIDE VIEW OF - SEA-SICKNESS.—THE SIGHT OF THE OCEAN.—LAND AT LAST AND GLAD OF IT. - - - ------- - - [SPECIAL CORRESPONDENCE OF THE COURIER.] - -PHILADELPHIA, Feb. 20, 1876.—The ocean is a greatly exaggerated affair. -About four years ago, my friend Charles I. Graves and myself were -sitting on a country fence, in Floyd County, after the manner of -lizards, drinking in the sunshine, when a wagon containing a small box -wheeled past us. It had hardly got abreast us when my friend dropped -from his comfortable perch as if he were shot, and rushed to the wagon. -Then ensued a remarkable scene. You have all seen a well-bred country -dog meet a city dog on some green highway. You know with what hurried -circumspection he smells the stranger at all points. So did my friend -approach the little square box on the wagon. He sniffed at it as if “he -would draw his soul through his nose.” I examined the ugly little box -closely. It was marked - - TO MR. BERCKMANS, - - MONT ALTO, NEAR ROME, - - GA., U.S.A. - -It was Rhenish wine shipped from Paris. - -My friend explained to me, after his rhapsody was over, that the box -having been brought across the ocean in the hold of a steamer, retained -a subtle scent of bilge-water, that brought the sea with all its -dangerous fascination back to him—he having served all his young life -before the mast. He was, at this writing, a plain, staid farmer, content -among his cattle and clover. And yet that sharp, briny, saline flavor, -thrown on the bosom of the still country breeze, put a restless devil in -his breast. It was as if a born gallant, exiled for a decade to the -heart of some desert, should, near the expiration of his sentence, -stumble upon a cambric handkerchief, redolent with the perfume of a -lady’s boudoir. In less than two years after the sight or rather the -smell of that box my friend had sold his plantation, convinced his wife, -and gone to the ocean again. Had Dr. Berckmans been content to drink -native wine, Mr. Graves would yet be alternating cotton with clover, in -the peaceful valley of the Etowah. - -After this strong proof of the fascination that the sea has for its -votaries, I achieved a strong desire to try it for myself. It renewed in -my mature days the wild ambition that put turmoil into my schoolboy -life, after I had read “Lafitte, or the Pirate of the Gulf.” - -I have longed for many a day to run a “gore” into each leg of my -pantaloons, roll back my collar, tousle my hair, fold my cloak about my -shoulders, and stand before the mast in a stiff breeze, and there read -Byron with one eye, and with the other watch the effect of the tableau -on the female passengers. - -I never had a chance to gratify the desire until lately. I never saw the -ocean until the trip that results in this letter; I shall never forget -the impression it made on me. - -I had imagined that it would be a moment of ecstasy. I had believed that -my soul, in the glad recognition of something as infinite, as -illimitable as itself, would laugh with joy, and leap to my lips, and -burn in my fingers, and tingle in my veins. I wisely reserved the first -sight until we had steamed out beyond the land, and then with the air of -one who unchains himself, I raised my head and looked out to the future. -There, as far as the eye could reach, aye, and way beyond, as if mocking -the finiteness of sight, stretched the blue waters. Ah! how my fine-spun -fancies crumbled and came tumbling back on me in dire confusion! My soul -literally shriveled! My very imagination was cowed and driven to its -corner, and I sat there dumb and trembling! - -No tenant of a cradle was ever more simple or more trusting than I -became at that moment. I literally rejoiced in the abrogation of all the -pride and manliness that I had boasted of two hours before. I flung away -my self-dependence, and my soul ran abashed into the hollow of His hand, -even as a frightened child runs to its father’s arms. As I looked -shuddering upon the vast and restless waste of waters in front of me, I -felt as if some person had taken me to the confines of that time which -human calculation can compass, and holding me on the chill edge of that -gulf called the Eternal, had asked me to translate its meaning, and -pronounce its uttermost boundary. - -I suppose the truth of the matter is that I was about scared to death; -certain it is that I crouched there for hours, trembling, and yet gazing -out beyond me upon the lapping waters, from where they parted before our -ship to where they curled up against the half-consenting sky! At last I -arose, shook myself, as if throwing off some nightmare, and sought the -crowd again. - -I can never forget how dissonant and inopportune the flippant -conversation of the voyagers seemed to me to be at that time. It was as -if some revelers should jest and shout in a great church. With the awful -abyss in front, and these prattlers to the rear, one had the two -extremes. There was God in the deep and awful stillness ahead, and the -world behind in the chatter and gayety that rang out “like a man’s -cracked laughter heard way down in hell.” - -The first man’s voice that I heard, as I turned away from the solemn -hush of the Eternal that yawned before us, was that of a young fellow -who remarked to his chum rhapsodically (evidently alluding to some -female acquaintance), “Why, she had a leg on her like a government -mule.” These words bit into my memory as if they were cut there by -white-hot pincers. - - - HOW SEA-SICKNESS WORKS. - -I believe I have said somewhere in this letter that my soul didn’t leap -to my lips when I went out to meet the ocean. I regret to say that my -breakfast did. I do not know whether any writer has addressed himself to -sea-sickness. I am certain that no writer of sacred or profane -literature can do it sufficient injustice. Walt Whitman might do it. -He’s better on the yawp than any poet I know. Never tell me again that -hell is a lake of fire and brimstone. Eternal punishment means riding on -a rough sea, in a steamer that don’t roll well, without a -copper-bottomed stomach, and a self-acting stop-valve in the throat. To -have been jostled about in a lake of fire would have been real cheerful -business compared to the unutterable anguish that I suffered for three -days. I do believe that if I had tied a cannon-ball to a crumb of bread -and swallowed them both, the crumb would have come prancing to the front -again, and brought the cannon-ball with it. It at last became a sort of -dismal joke to send anything down. But this was not what made it so hard -to bear. It was the abject degradation that it brought upon me. The -absolute prostration of every mental, moral and physical activity, of -every emotion, impulse and ambition; the reduction of a system that -boasted of some nervous power and of excessive tone, to the condition of -a wet dish-clout,—these were the things that made sea-sickness a misery -beyond the power of words. For three days I lay like an old volcano, -still, desolate and haggard; but with an exceedingly active crater. I -was brought to that condition which Chesterfield says is the finest -pitch to which a gentleman can be brought, that sublime pitch of -indifference that enables him to hear of the loss of an estate, or a -poodle dog, with the same feeling. Nothing disturbs the man who is -sea-sick. He blinks in the face of disaster, and yawps at death itself. -He actually longs for sensation. To stick him with a pin, or drop ice -down his back, would be a mercy. He spraddles madly over the ship, -flabbing himself like a mollusk over everything he stumbles on, and -knows not night or morning. As far as I was concerned, I was seized with -a yawning that came very near proving fatal. I was taken with a longing -to turn myself wrong-side outwards, and hang myself on the taffrail. -Several times I was on the point of doing it; but I struggled against it -and saved myself. - - - THE SIGHTS OF THE SEA. - -The “sights” of the sea are not what they are cracked up to be. Some -writer, Lowell, I believe, who was seduced into going seaward, had a -sovereign contempt for everything connected with the sea. With a -charming abandon, he says, “A whale looks like a brown paper parcel—the -white stripes down his back resembling the pack-thread.” It is not hard -to bring everything down to this standard. - -The very motion of the waves, the cause of rhymes unnumbered, becomes -terribly monotonous after the first day or two. The rise and relapse of -the tinted water glistening in the sun, and blooming lilies on the -wave-crest, is a pretty enough sight at first; but before long one longs -to shiver the surface of the deep, and calm its eternal restlessness. -The waves, wriggling up like a woman’s regrets from nowhere, come -dragging themselves over the weary waste, and, plashing back upon each -other, spring off on another uneasy remonstrance, until the brain of the -looker-on is actually addled. I would have given a great deal to have -had the power to have settled the upheaving waters for one hour, just as -a schoolboy has the power, and the inclination, too, to break the -inexorable calm of a mill-pond by splashing it with rocks. Nothing tires -us like sameness; sameness, inactivity, is intolerable. - -We saw some flying-fish. And we saw, what I valued much more, on board -with us a man who knew a man whose cousin had seen the great -sea-serpent. I have a great respect for a man who knows somebody that -has seen the sea-serpent. He is a link between us and the supernatural -in the ocean. He is a relic, stranded by the shore of science, of that -world of wonders that began with the syrens, was modernized with the -mermaids, and that ends in the devil-fish and sea-serpent. While he -lives I want to be near him. When he dies I want his tooth set on my -mantel-piece; it will be a sort of guarantee, under which I can read the -weird stories of the old, unexplored ocean, that made boyhood joyous. -Give me the sea-serpent as a fact, and I will swear to the mermaids, bet -on the phantom ship, and pin my faith to the syrens. - - - THE LOVERS AND THE PILOT. - -The intercourse between the passengers was not pleasant. We got tired of -each other. The fact that none of us could get on or off, gave us a sort -of feeling that we were prisoners; or, when locked up at night in our -berths, that we were animals traveling in the same menagerie; brought -together by chance, and held together through necessity. - -There was one couple on board that won my attention. It was a man, -full-grown, handsome and accomplished, but with the deep furrows in his -brow that always come after a man has wrestled with the world; and the -girl not more than fifteen years of age. The girl had not worn off the -subtle bloom of childhood that gave her grace and glow, as the -dew-chrism of early dawn graces the lily. She was not beautiful, after -the approved models, but there was an elastic freshness, a bright charm -that would have put beauty to the blush. She was brimming with the -splendid and tender divinity that fills the odorous buds just before -they burst into life’s beauty. She was full of spring. She carried its -balms about with her, its aroma hung about her skirts, and its auroral -light illuminated her very being. She was April, with all its joys and -all its happy tears—its dear restlessness, and its thrills. I marveled -to see how the man of affairs loved her. It annoyed me to see how this -man, with all his vast concerns, his rugged schemes, his vaulting -ambition, bowed down at the feet of a child. It was a very miracle of -love that centered all the impulses, aspirations, hopes, and endeavors -of this man of the world in a bright slip of a girl. She understood her -power, too; and taking the reins of affairs in her little fingers, -carried herself with a pretty imperiousness. Not always was she -mistress, though. Once in awhile I noticed, when he held her beneath his -words, her eyes softened and fell, and she sat half absorbed and -trembling, thrilling under an ecstasy that stirred her soul to its very -depths, and yet left her unconscious of what it meant or from what it -came. I watched this couple with a strange interest, and my heart went -out to the child. But beyond this there was nothing interesting on -shipboard. The people were all tame. They seemed to have been planted on -the ship, and grown there. They were all indigenous; and hence, when the -pilot—a breezy fellow, by the way—jumped on board just outside of New -York, he brought with him the charm of a rare exotic, and actually -acquired a sort of game flavor, by being a stranger. - - - SOME CONCLUSIONS NOT JUMPED AT. - -Altogether, a trip on the ocean is a very great bore. It does not -compare to the cozy and bustling comforts of an inland trip, especially -if one have the benefits of a Pullman. - -The ocean is meant to be looked at and enjoyed—from the shore, or -through books. You may see more of it by going on board a ship. It is -pretty apt to see more of you, though, than you do of it. There are many -moments during the first day or two, when, leaning over the taffrail, -you yawp into its face, that it can see clear through to your boots. -That’s the way it was with - - JOHN, JR. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TWO MEN WHO HAVE THRILLED THE STATE. - -AN ACCIDENTAL MEETING ON THE STREET, IN WHICH TWO GREAT MEN ARE - RECOGNIZED AS THE TYPES OF TWO CLASHING THEORIES—TOOMBS’S - SUCCESSES—BROWN’S JUDGMENT. - - -THE other day I saw two men meet on the street, bow cordially, and pass. -I was struck by the contrast between them—by the difference in their -walk, appearance and manner. This suggested that the contrast in their -lives, in their lineage and their methods, was even greater than their -physical make-up. And then, forgetting for the moment that a -gubernatorial campaign of great fierceness was raging, I fell to -wondering if there had ever been two masterful men whose paths lay near -each other, and whose performance was so nearly equal, who had been born -in such dissimilar conditions, and moved by such dissimilar motives. Joe -Brown and Bob Toombs! Both illustrious and great—both powerful and -strong—and yet at every point, and from every view, the perfect -opposites of each other. - -Through two centuries have two strains of blood, two conflicting lines -of thought, two separate theories of social, religious and political -life, been working out the two types of men, which have in our day -flowered into the perfection of contrast—vivid, thorough pervasive. For -seven generations the ancestors of Joe Brown have been aggressive -rebels; for a longer time the Toombs have been dauntless and intolerant -followers of the king and kingliness. At the siege of Londonderry—the -most remarkable fasting match beyond Tanner—Margaret and James Brown, -grandparents of the James Brown who came to America and was grandparent -of Joe Brown, were within the walls starving and fighting for William -and Mary; and I have no doubt there were hard-riding Toombs outside the -walls charging in the name of the peevish and unhappy James. Certain it -is that forty years before, the direct ancestors of General Toombs on -the Toombs estate were hiding good King Charles in the oak at Boscabel, -where, I have no doubt, the father and uncles of the Londonderry Brown, -with cropped hair and severe mien, were proguing about the place with -their pikes, searching every bush, in the name of Cromwell and the -psalm-singers. From these initial points sprang the two strains of -blood—the one affluent, impetuous, prodigal, the other slow, resolute, -forceful. From these ancestors came the two men—the one superb, ruddy, -fashioned with incomparable grace and fulness; the other pale, -thoughtful, angular, stripped down to bone and sinew. From these -opposing theories came the two types—the one patrician, imperious, swift -in action and brooking no stay; the other democratic, sagacious, jealous -of rights and submitting to no imposition. The one for the king; the -other for the people. It does not matter that the elder Toombs was a -rebel in Virginia against the fat George, for that revolt was kingly of -itself, and the Virginian cavaliers went into it with love-locks flying -and care cast to the winds, feeling little of the patient spirit of -James Brown, who, by his Carolina fireside, fashioned his remonstrance -slowly, and at last put his life upon the issue. - -Governor Brown and General Toombs started under circumstances in -accordance with the suggestions of the foregoing. General Toombs’s -father had a fine estate, given him by the State of Georgia, and his son -had a fine education and started in life in liberal trim. Governor Brown -had nothing, and for years hauled wood to Dahlonega; and sold vegetables -from a basket to the hotel and what others would buy. Young Toombs made -money rapidly, his practice for the first five years amounting to much -over $50,000. He conquered by the grace of his genius, and went easily -from triumph to triumph. Young Brown moved ahead laboriously but -steadily. He made only about $1200 his first year, and then pushed his -practice to $2000 or $3000. He made no brilliant reputation, but never -lost a client, and added to his income and practice. His progress was -the result of hard labor and continuous work. He lived moderately and -his habits were simple. General Toombs has lived in princely style all -his life, and has always been fond of wine and cards. Both men are rich, -and both are well preserved for their time of life. General Toombs is -seventy-one and Governor Brown fifty-nine. Each had a lucky stroke early -in life, and in both cases it was in a land investment. General Toombs -bought immense tracts of Texas land, of which he has sold perhaps -$100,000 profit and still holds enough to yield double or treble that -much more. Governor Brown, when very young, paid $450 for a piece of -land, and afterward sold a half interest in a copper mine thereon for -$25,000. This he invested in farms, and thus laid the basis of his -fortune. - -The first time these men met was in Milledgeville, in 1851 or ’52, when -Governor Brown was a young Democratic State Senator and General Toombs -was a Whig Congressman—then the idol of his party and the most eloquent -man in Georgia. They were then just such men physically as one who had -never seen them would imagine from reading their lives. General Toombs -was, as Governor Brown has told me, “the handsomest man he ever saw.” -His physique was superb, his grand head fit for a crown, his presence -that of a king, overflowing with vitality, his majestic face illumined -with his divine genius. Governor Brown was then pallid, uncomely—his -awkward frame packed closely with nerve and sinew, and fed with a -temperate flow of blood. They met next at Marietta, where Toombs had a -fiery debate with that rare master of discussion, the late Robert -Cowart. Governor Brown was deeply impressed with the power and genius of -that wonderful man, but General Toombs thought but little of the awkward -young mountaineer. For later, when in Texas, hearing that Joe Brown was -nominated for Governor, he did not even remember his name, and had to -ask a Georgia-Texan “who the devil it was.” - -But the next time he met him he remembered it. Of course we all remember -when the “Know-Nothings” took possession of the Whig party, and Toombs -and Stephens seceded. Stephens having a campaign right on him, and being -pressed to locate himself, said he was neither Whig nor Democrat, but -“was toting his own skillet,” thus introducing that homely but -expressive phrase into our political history. Toombs was in the Senate -and had time for reflection. It ended by his marching into the -Democratic camp. Shortly afterward he was astounded at seeing the -standard of his party, upon the success of which his seat in the Senate -depended, put in the hands of Joe Brown, a new campaigner, while the -opposition was led by Ben Hill, then as now an audacious and eloquent -speaker, incomparable on the stump. Hill and Brown had had a meeting at -Athens, I believe, and it was reported that Brown had been worsted. -Howell Cobb wrote Toombs that he must take the canvass in hand at once, -at least until Brown could learn how to manage himself. Toombs wrote to -Brown to come to his home at Washington, which he did. General Toombs -told me that he was not hopeful when he met the new candidate, but after -talking to him awhile, found that he had wonderful judgment and -sagacity. After coquetting with Mr. Hill a while, they started on a tour -together, going to south Georgia. General Toombs has talked to me often -about this experience. He says that after two or three speeches Governor -Brown was as fully equipped as if he had been in public for forty years, -and he was amazed at the directness with which he would get to the -hearts of the masses. He talked in simple style, using the homeliest -phrases, but his words went home every time. There was a sympathy -between the speaker and the people that not even the eloquence of Toombs -could emphasize, or the matchless skill of Mr. Hill disturb. In Brown -the people saw one of themselves, lifted above them by his superior -ability, and his unerring sagacity, but talking to them common sense in -a sensible way. General Toombs soon saw that the new candidate was more -than able to take care of himself, and left him to make his tour -alone—impressed with the fact that a new element had been introduced -into our politics and that a new leader had arisen. - -It is hard to say which has been the more successful of the two men. -Neither has ever been beaten before the people. General Toombs has won -his victories with the more ease. He has gone to power as a king goes to -his throne, and no one has gainsaid him. Governor Brown has had to fight -his way through. It has been a struggle all the time, and he has had to -summon every resource to carry his point. Each has made unsurpassed -records in his departments. As Senator, General Toombs was not only -invincible, he was glorious. As Governor, was not only invincible, he -was wise. General Toombs’s campaigns have been unstudied and careless, -and were won by his presence, his eloquence, his greatness. His canvass -was always an ovation, his only caucusing was done on the hustings. With -Governor Brown it was different. He planned his campaigns and then went -faithfully through them. His victories were none the less sure, because -his canvass was more laborious. His nomination as Governor, while -unexpected, was not accidental. It was the inevitable outcome of his -young life, disciplined so marvelously, so full of thought, sagacity and -judgment. If he had not been nominated Governor then, his time would -have come at last, just as sure as cause produces result. His record as -Governor proves that he was prepared for the test—just as his brilliant -record in the Senate proves that he is fitted for any sphere to which he -might be called. - -To sum it up: Toombs is the embodiment of genius, and Brown is the -embodiment of common sense. One is brilliant, the other unerring; one is -eloquent, the other sagacious. Toombs moves by inspiration; Brown is -governed by judgment. The first is superb; the latter is sage. Despite -the fact that Governor Brown is by instinct and by inheritance a rebel, -he is prudent, conservative, and has a turn for building things up. -General Toombs, despite his love for kingliness and all that implies, -has an almost savage instinct for overturning systems and tearing things -down. It must not be understood that I depreciate General Toombs’s -wisdom. Genius often flies as true to its mark as judgment can go. The -wisest speech, and the ablest ever made by an American, in my opinion, -is Mr. Toombs’s speech on slavery, delivered in Boston about ten years -before the war. In that speech he showed a prescience almost divine, and -clad in the light of thirty years of confirmation, it is simply -marvelous. His leadership of the southern Whigs in the House during the -contest of 1850 was a masterpiece of brilliancy, and even his Hamilcar -speech, delivered after the most exasperating insults, was sublime in -its lofty eloquence and courage. Safer as a leader, Governor Brown is -more sagacious on material points—truer to the practical purposes of -government: but no man but Toombs could have represented Georgia as he -did for the decade preceding 1860. - -Messrs. Brown and Toombs have disagreed since the war. That Governor -Brown may have been wiser in “reconstruction” than Mr. Toombs, many wise -men believe, and events may have proved. In that matter my heart was -with Mr. Toombs, and I have never seen reason to recall it. That -Governor Brown was honest and patriotic in his advice, my knowledge of -the man would not permit me to doubt. The trouble between these -gentlemen came very near resulting in a duel. While I join with all good -men that this duel was arrested, I confess that I have been wicked -enough to speculate on its probable result—had it occurred. In the first -place, General Toombs made no preparation for the duel. He went along in -his careless and kingly way, trusting, presumably, to luck and quick -shot. Governor Brown, on the contrary, made the most careful and -deliberate preparation. He made his will, put his estate in order, -withdrew from the church, and then clipped all the trees in his orchard -practicing with the pistol. Had the duel come off—which fortunately it -did not—General Toombs would have fired with his usual magnificence and -his usual disregard of rule. I do not mean to imply that he would not -have hit Governor Brown; on the contrary, he might have perforated him -in a dozen places at once. But one thing is sure—Governor Brown would -have clasped his long white fingers around the pistol butt, adjusted it -to his gray eye, and sent his bullet within the eighth of an inch of the -place he had selected. I should not be surprised if he drew a diagram of -General Toombs, and marked off with square and compass the exact spot he -wanted to hit. - -General Toombs has always been loose and prodigal in his money matters. -Governor Brown has been precise and economical all his life, and gives -$50,000 to a Baptist college—not a larger amount probably than General -Toombs has dispensed casually, but how much more compact and useful! -This may be a good fact to stop on, as it furnishes a point of view from -which the two lives may be logically surveyed. Two great lives they are, -illustrious and distinguished—utterly dissimilar. Georgia could have -spared neither and is jealous of both. I could write of them for hours, -but the people are up and the flags are flying, and the journalist has -no time for moralizing or leisurely speculation. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - “_BOB_.” - - HOW AN OLD MAN “COME HOME.” - - ------- - - A STORY WITHOUT A MORAL, PICKED OUT OF A BUSY LIFE. - - ------- - - [WRITTEN FOR THE SUNDAY GAZETTE.] - -“YOU are the no-countest, laziest, meanest dog that ever wore breeches! -Never let me see you again!” - -Thus Mrs. Tag to Mr. Tag, her husband; she standing in the door, her -arms akimbo, and, cat-like, spitting the words at him. - -Mr. Tag made no reply. He did not even put up his hands in evasion. He -stood dazed and bewildered, as one who hesitates in a sudden shower, and -then turning, pulled his old hat down over his shoulders, as if she was -throwing rocks at him instead of words, and shambled off in silence, -quickening his retreat by a pitiful little jerk, every time she launched -a new volley at him. - -This she did as often as her brains could forge them and her tongue send -them. She stood there, the very picture of fury. And at length, with -disgust on every feature, she turned, sprawled a weevilly little child -that was clinging to her skirts, and went into the house. - -As for Mr. Tag, he hurried on, never once looking back until he had -reached a hill, against which the sun was setting. He then slowed up a -little, lifted the flap of his hat cautiously, as if to be sure he was -out of ear-shot—then stopped. He pulled off his hat, shook it to and -fro—unconsciously, I think—in his hand as one who comes out of the -storm. He looked about him a while, as if undetermined, and then browsed -about vaguely in the sunset, until his bent, shambling figure seemed -melting into the golden glory that enveloped it; and his round, chubby -head was tipped with light. - -I thought probably he wanted to see me, so I climbed up the hill. He -seemed to approve of my coming, and walked down in the shade to meet me. - -“Ann was sorter rough to me, wan’t she?” he said, with a chuckle of -deprecation. - -I assented quietly to the lack of smoothness in Ann’s remarks. - -“You aint know’d me long,” he said, with a sudden flicker of -earnestness; “and you’ve knowed the worst part of me. You’ve knowed the -trouble and the fag-end. You warn’t in at the good part of my life!” - -I should think not, poor fellow. Ever since I had known him he had been -the same shabby, good-for-nothing that he is now. He had grown a bit -more serious of late, and his long face—it was abnormally long between -the eyes and the chin—had whitened somewhat, but otherwise he was about -the same shabby, ragged, half-starved old fellow I had known for a year -or so. Yes, Bob, I had clearly known the worst of you! - -“I was a better man once; not a better man, either, as I know of, but I -had luck. When me and Ann married, there warn’t a happier couple -nowhere. I remember just as well when I courted her. She didn’t think -about me then as she does now. We had a buggy to ourselves, and we -turned down a shady road. I fetched it on soon after we left the crowd, -and she was about as well pleased as me. It seemed like that road was -the road to heaven, and we was so happy that we wasn’t in no hurry to -get to the end of it. Ann was handsome then. Oh yes, she was!”—as I -winced at this,—“and at first as good a wife to me as ever a man had. - -“It may a-been me that started the trouble. I was unfortnit in -everything I touched. My fingers slipped off o’ everything and -everything slipped off o’ them. I could get no grip on nothin’. I worked -hard, but something harder agin me. Ann was ambitious and uppish, and I -used to think when I come home at night, most tired to death, she was -gettin’ to despise me. She’d snap me up and abuse me till actually I was -afraid to come home. I never misused her or give her a back word. I -thought maybe she wasn’t to blame, and that what she said about me was -true. Things kept a-gitten worse, and we sold off pretty much what we -had. Five years ago a big surprise came to us. It was a baby—a boy—him!” -nodding toward the hut. “It was a surprise to both of us. We’d been -married fourteen years. It made Ann harder on me than ever. She never -let me rest; it was all the time hard words and hard looks. I never -raised even a look against her, o’ course. I thought she was right about -me. He never had a cross word with me. Him and me knowed each other from -the start. We had a langwidge of our own. Ther wasn’t no words in -it—just looks and grunts. I never could git ‘nough, nuther could he. He -know’d more an’ me. Ther was a kinder way-off look in his eyes that was -solemn and deep, I tell you. At last Ann got to breaking me up. Whenever -she catch me with him she’d drive me off. I’d always hurry off, ’cause I -never wanted him to hear her ’spressin herself ’bout me. ’Peared like he -understood every word of it. Mos’t two years ago, and I ain’t had one -since. I couldn’t git one. Ann commenced takin’ in washing, and one day -she said I shouldn’t hang around no more a-eatin’ him and her out of -house and home. That was more’n a year ago, and I seen him since to talk -to him. Every time I go about she hustles me about like she did to-day. -I never make no fuss. She’s right about me, I reckon. I am powerful no -’count. But he has stirred things in me I ain’t felt movin’ for many a -year!” - -“What’s his name, Bob?” - -“Got none. She never would let me talk to her ’bout it, and I ain’t got -no right to name him. I ast her once how it would do to call him little -Bob, and she said I better git him sumpin’ to eat; he couldn’t eat a -name, nor dress in it neither; which was true. But he’s got my old face -on him, and my look. I know that, and he knows it too.” - -“Did you ever drink, Bob?” - -“Me? You know I didn’t. I did get drunk once. The boys give me the wine. -They say liquor makes a man savage, and makes him beat his wife. It -didn’t take me that way. I was the happiest fellow you ever see. I felt -light and free. My blood was warm, and just jumped along—and beat Ann? -why, all the old love come back to me, as I went to’ards home, feelin’ -big as a king. I made as how I’d go up to Ann and put arm aroun’ her -neck in the old way, and tell her if she’d only encourage me a little, -I’d get about for her and him and make ’em both rich. I couldn’t hardly -wait to get home, I was so full of it. She was just settin’ down a pail -of water when I come in. I made for her, gentle like, and had just got -my arms to her neck, when she drawed back, with a few words like them -this evening, and dosed the pail of water full in my face. As I -scrambled out o’ the door, sorter blind like, I struck the edge o’ the -gulley there, rolled down head over heels, and fotch up squar’ at the -bottom, as sober a man as ever you see!” - - * * * * * - -I met Bob a few days after that in a state of effusive delight. He would -not disclose himself at first. He followed me through several blocks, -and at length, diving into an alley, beckoned me cautiously to him. He -took off his old hat, always with him a preliminary to conversation, and -glancing cautiously around, said in a hoarse whisper: - -“Had a pic-nic to-day.” - -“A pic-nic! Who?” - -“Me and him!” - -And his wrinkled, weather-beaten old face was broken by smiles and -chuckles, that struggled to the surface, as porpoises do, and then -shrunk back into the depths from whence they came. - -“You don’t know Phenice—the neighbor’s gal as nusses him sometimes? -Well, I seed her out with him, to-day, and I tolled her off kinder, till -she got beyant the hill, and then I give her a quarter I had got, and -purposed as how she should gi’ me a little time with him. She sciddled -off to town to git her quarter spent, and I took him and made for the -woods, to meet her thar agin, by sun!” - -“He’s a deep one, I tell you!” he said, drawing a breath of admiration; -“as deep a one as I ever see. He’d never been in the woods before, but -he jest knowed it all! You orter seed him when a jay-bird come and sot -on a high limb, and flung him some sass, and tried to sorter to make -free with him. The look that boy give him couldn’t a’ been beat by -nobody. The jay tried to hold up to it and chaffered a little, but he -finally had to skip, the wust beat bird you ever saw!” - -And so the old fellow went on, telling me about that wonderful pic-nic; -how he had gathered flowers for the baby, and made little bouquets, -which the baby received with a critical air, as if he had spent his life -in a florist’s shop, and being a connoisseur in flowers, couldn’t afford -to become enthusiastic over pied daisies; how a gray squirrel scampering -down a near tree had startled him out of his wits, while the baby, -seated still nearer the disturbance than he, remained a marvel of -stolidity and presence of mind; how the baby was finally coaxed out of -his wise reserve by a group of yellow butterflies pulsating in the -golden sunshine, and by the flashing of the silvery brook that ran -beneath them; how all the birds in the county seemed to have entered -into a conspiracy to upset that baby’s dignity; and how they would -assail him with pert bursts of song and rapid curvetings about his head, -while Bob sat off at a distance, “and let ’em fight it out, not helping -one side or t’other,” always to see the chatterers retire in -good-humored defeat before the serene impassibility of the youngster; -how the only drawback to the pic-nic was that there was not a thing to -eat, and besides its being in violation of all pic-nic precedent, there -was danger of the little one getting very hungry; and how, in the -evening—what would have been after dinner if they’d had any dinner—the -baby, who was sitting opposite Bob on the grass, suddenly assumed an air -of deeper solemnity, even than he had worn before, and gazed at Bob with -a dense and inscrutable gaze, until he was actually embarrassed by the -searching and fixed character of this look; and how the round, grave -head suddenly keeled to one side as if it were so heavy with ideas that -it could not be held upright any longer; and how then, suddenly, and -without a sign or hint of warning, this self-possessed baby tumbled over -in the grass, shot his little toes upward, and, before Bob could reach -him, was dead asleep! And Bob told me then, with the glittering tears -gathering in his eyes and rolling down his old cheeks, how he had picked -the baby up and cuddled him close to his old bosom, and listened to his -soft breathing, and stroked his chubby face, and almost guessed the wise -dreams that were flitting through his round fuzzy head,—hugged him so -close, and pressed him to his bosom with such hungry, tender love, that -he felt as if he had him “layin’ agin’ my naked heart, and warmin’ it -up, and stirrin’ all its strings with his little fingers!” - -It was late that night when I went home—after one o’clock; a fearful -night, too. The rain was pouring in torrents and the wind howled like -mad. Taking a near cut home, I passed by the hut where Bob’s wife lived. -Through the drifting rain, I saw a dark figure against the side of the -house. Stepping closer, I saw that it was Bob, mounted on a barrel, -flattened out against the planks, his old felt hat down about his ears, -and the rain pouring from it in streams—his face glued to the window. - -Poor old follow! there he was! oblivious to the storm, to hunger and -everything else—clinging like some homeless night-bird, drifting and -helpless, to the outside of his own home; gazing in stealthily at the -bed where the little one slept, and warming his old heart up with the -memory of that wondrous pic-nic—of the solemn contest with the -impertinent jay-bird, and the grave rapture over the butterflies that -swung lazily about in their rift of sunshine. - -One morning, many months after the pic-nic, Bob came to me sideways. His -right arm hung limp and inert by his side, and his right leg dragged -helplessly after the left. The yielding muscles of the neck had -stiffened and drawn his head awry. He stumbled clumsily to where I was -standing, and received my look of surprise shamefacedly. - -“I’ve had a stroke,” he said. “Paralysis? It’s most used me up. I reckon -I’ll never be able to do anything for him! It came on me sudden,” he -said, as if to say that if it had given him any sort of notice, he could -have dodged it. - -After that Bob went on from worse to worse. His face, all save that -fixed in the rigid grasp of the paralysis, became tremulous, pitiful and -uncertain. He had lost all the chirrupy good-humor of the other days, -and became shy and silent. There was a wistfulness and yearning in his -face that would have made your heart ache; a hungry passion had -struggled from the depth of his soul, and peered out of his blue eyes, -and tugged at the corners of his mouth. There was, too, a pitiful, scary -look about him. He had the air of one who is pursued. At the slightest -sigh he would pluck at his lame leg sharply, and shamble off, turning -full around at intervals to see if he was followed. I learned that his -wife had become even harder on him since his trouble, and that he was -even more than ever afraid of her. - -He had never had another “pic-nic.” He had snatched a furtive interview -with the baby, under protection of the occasional nurse, from each of -which he came to me with a new idea of the “deepness” of that infant. -“He’s too much for me, that baby is!” he would say. “If I just had his -sense!” He was rapidly getting shabbier, and thinner and more -woe-begone. He became a slink. He hid about in the day-time, avoiding -everybody, and seeming to carry off his love and his passion, as a dog -with a bone, seeking an alley. At night he would be seen hanging like a -guilty thief about the hut in which his treasure was hid. - -“I’ve a mind,” he said one morning, “to go home. I don’t think she” (he -had quit calling her “Ann” now) “could drive me out now. All I’d want -would be to just sit in a corner o’ the house and be with him. That’s -all.” - -“Bob,” I said to him one morning, “you rascal, you are starving!” - -He couldn’t deny it. He tried to put it off, but he couldn’t. His face -told on him. - -“Have you had anything to eat to-day?” - -“No, sir.” - -“Nor yesterday?” - -“No, sir.” - -I gave him a half-dollar. A wolfish glare of hunger shot into his eyes -as he saw the money. He clutched it with a spasm of haste and started -off. I watched his side-long walk down the street, and then went to -work, satisfied that he would go off and pack himself full. - -It was hardly an hour before he came back, his face brighter than I had -seen it in months. He carried a bundle in his live hand. He laid it on -my desk, and then fell back on his dead leg while I opened it. I found -in the bundle a red tin horse, attached to a blue tin wagon, on which -was seated a green tin driver. I looked up in blank astonishment. - -“For him!” he said simply. And then he broke down. He turned slowly on -his live leg as an axis and leaned against the wall. - -“Could you send it to him?” he said at last. “If she knew I sent it, she -mightn’t let him have it. He’s never had nothin’ o’ this kind, and I -thought it might pearten him up.” - -“Bob, is this the money I gave you?” - -“Yes, sir.” - -“And you were starving when you left here?” - -“Oh, I got some bread!” - - * * * * * - -I suppose every man, woman and child remembers that terrible night three -years ago when we had lightning while the snow was on the ground. The -flashes plowed great yellow seams through the gray of the day, and at -night a freezing storm of sleet and rain came. - -It was a terrible night. I staggered home through it to where a big -fire, and blue eyes and black, and slippers, and roasting apples were -awaiting me. I thought of Bob—my old night-owl, with a heart in him, and -wondered whether he was keeping his silent, but uncomplaining vigil -about the little hut on the hillside. I even went so far as to speculate -on this point with a certain blue-eyed youngster on my knee, to whom -Bob’s life was a romance and a wonder. - -Bless me! and all the time I was pitying him, I didn’t know that he had -“gone home” and was all right. - -His wife slept uneasily that night, as she has since said. She rolled in -her sleep a long time, and at last got up and went to the window and -looked out. She shuddered at the sound of the whizzing sleet and -pitiless hum of the rain on the roof. Then she stumbled sleepily back to -her couch, and dreamed of a long shady lane, and a golden-green -afternoon in May, and a bright-faced young fellow that looked into her -heart, and held her face in his soft fingers. How this dream became -tangled in her thoughts that night of all nights, she never could tell. -But there it was gleaming like a thread of gold through the dismal warp -and woof of her life. - -It was full day when she awoke. As she turned lazily upon her side she -started up in affright. There was a man, dripping wet, silent, kneeling -by her bedside. An old felt hat lay upon the floor. The man’s head was -bowed deep down over the bed and his hands were bundled tenderly about -one of the baby’s fists that had been thrown above its head. - -The worn, weatherbeaten figure was familiar to her. But there was -something that stopped her, as she started forward angrily. She stood -posed like a statue for a moment, then bent down, curiously and -tenderly, and with trembling fingers pulled the cover back from the bed, -and looked up into the man’s face steadily. Then she put her fingers on -his hand furtively and shrinkingly. And then a strange look crept into -her face—the dream of the night came to her like a flash—and she sank -back upon the floor, and dropped her head between her knees. - -Ah, yes, Bob had “come home.” - -And the poor fellow had come to stay. Not even his place in the corner -would he want now! No place about the scanty board! Just to stay—that -was all; not to offend by his laziness, or to annoy with his ugly, -shambling figure, and his no-count ways. Just “come home to stay!” - -And there the baby slept quietly, all unconscious of the shadow and the -mystery that hung above his wise little head—unconscious of the shabby -old watcher, and the woman on the floor, dreaming, perhaps, of the -swinging butterflies and the chaffing birds and the brook flashing in -the sunshine. And there was old Bob—brave, at last, through love—“come -home.” - -Out of the storm like a night-bird! In the door stealthily like a thief! -Groping his way to the bedside through the dark like a murderer! But -there was no danger in him—no ill-omen about him. It was only old Bob, -come home, “come home to stay!” - -He had clasped the little hand he loved so well in his rough palm and -cuddled it close, as if he hoped to hold it always—fondled it in his -hands, as if he hoped to ride his own life on the spring-tide that -gathered in its rosy palm, or to catch that young life in the ebbing -billows that wasted from his cold fingers. But no; the baby was “too -much for him!” And the young heart, all unconscious and all perverse, -sent the rich blood through the little arm, down the slender wrist, and -into the dimpled fist, where it pulsed and throbbed uneasily, as it -broke against the chill, stark presence of Death! - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - COTTON AND ITS KINGDOM.[1] - -Footnote 1: - - Reprinted from Harper’s Magazine, Oct., 1881. - -IT has long been the fortune of the South to deal with special -problems—slavery, secession, reconstruction. For fifty years has the -settlement of these questions engaged her people, and challenged the -attention of the world. As these issues are set aside finally, after -stubborn and bloody conflict, during which she maintained her position -with courage, and abided results with fortitude, she finds herself -confronted with a new problem quite as important as either of those that -have been disposed of. In the cultivation and handling, under the new -order of things, of the world’s great staple, cotton, she is grappling -with a matter that involves essentially her own welfare, and is of the -greatest interest to the general public. To the slaveholder the growing -of cotton was straight and easy, as the product of his land was -supplemented by the increase of his slaves, and he prospered in spite of -himself. To the Southern farmer of _post-bellum_ days, impoverished, -unsettled, and thrown upon free labor, working feverishly with untried -conditions, poorly informed as to the result of experiments made by his -neighbors, and too impatient to wait upon his own experience, it is -quite a different affair. After sixteen years of trial, everything is -yet indeterminate. And whether this staple is cultivated in the South as -a profit or a passion, and whether it shall bring the South to -independence or to beggary, are matters yet to be settled. Whether its -culture shall result in a host of croppers without money or credit, -appealing to the granaries of the West against famine, paying toll to -usurers at home, and mortgaging their crops to speculators abroad even -before it is planted—a planting oligarchy of money-lenders, who have -usurped the land through foreclosure, and hold by the ever-growing -margin between a grasping lender and an enforced borrower—or a -prosperous self-respecting race of small farmers, cultivating their own -lands, living upon their own resources, controlling their crops until -they are sold, and independent alike of usurers and provision -brokers—which of these shall be the outcome of cotton culture the future -must determine. It is certain only in the present that the vigor of the -cotton producers and the pace at which they are moving are rapidly -forcing a settlement of these questions, and that the result of the -experiments now swiftly working out in the South will especially concern -a large part of the human race, from the farmer who plods down the -cotton row, cutting through his doubts with a hoe, to the spinner in -Manchester who anxiously balances the totals of the world’s crop. - -It may be well to remark at the outset that the production of cotton in -the South is practically without limit. It was 1830 before the American -crop reached 1,000,000 bales, and the highest point ever reached in the -days of slavery was a trifle above 4,500,000 bales. The crop of 1880-81 -is about 2,000,000 in excess of this, and there are those who believe -that a crop of 8,000,000 bales is among the certainties of the next few -years. The heavy increase in the cotton crop is due entirely to the -increase of cotton acreage brought about by the use of fertilizers. -Millions of acres of land, formerly thought to be beyond the possible -limit of the cotton belt, have been made the best of cotton lands by -being artificially enriched. In North Carolina alone the limit of cotton -production has been moved twenty miles northward and twenty miles -westward, and the half of Georgia on which no cotton was grown twenty -years ago now produces fully half the crop of the State. The “area of -low production” as the Atlantic States are brought to the front by -artificial stimulation is moving westward, and is now central in Alabama -and Florida. But the increase in acreage, large as it is, will be but a -small factor in the increase of production, compared to the intensifying -of the cultivation of the land now in use. Under the present loose -system of planting, the average yield is hardly better than one bale to -three acres. This could be easily increased to a bale an acre. In -Georgia five bales have been raised on one acre, and a yield of three -bales to the acre is credited to several localities. President Morehead, -of the Mississippi Valley Cotton Planters’ Association, says that the -entire cotton crop of the present year might have been easily raised in -fourteen counties along the Mississippi River. It will be seen, -therefore, that the capacity of the South to produce cotton is -practically limitless, and when we consider the enormous demand for -cotton goods now opening up from new climes and peoples, we may conclude -that the near future will see crops compared to which the crop of the -past year, worth $300,000,000, will seem small. - -Who will be the producers of these vast crops of the future? Will they -be land-owners or tenants—planters or farmers? The answer to this -inquiry will be made by the average Southerners without hesitation. -“Small farms,” he will say, “well tended by actual owners, will be the -rule in the South. The day of a land-holding oligarchy has passed -forever.” Let us see about this. - -The history of agriculture—slow and stubborn industry that it is—will -hardly show stronger changes than have taken place in the rural -communities of the South in the past fifteen years. Immediately after -the war between the States there was a period of unprecedented disaster. -The surrender of the Confederate armies found the plantations of the -South stripped of houses, fences, stock, and implements. The planters -were without means or prospects, and uncertain as to what should be -done. The belief that extensive cotton culture had perished with slavery -had put the price of the staple up to thirty cents. Lured by the -dazzling price, which gave them credit as well as hope, the owners of -the plantations prepared for vast operations. They refitted their -quarters, repaired their fences, summoned hundreds of negro croppers at -high prices, and invested lavishly their borrowed capital in what they -felt sure was a veritable bonanza. The few years that followed are full -of sickening failure. Planters who had been princes in wealth and -possessions suddenly found themselves irretrievably in debt and reduced -to beggary. Under the stimulation of high prices the crops grew, until -there was a tumble from thirty to ten cents per pound. Unable to meet -their engagements with their factors, who, suddenly awakening to the -peril of the situation, refused to make further advances or grant -extensions, the planters had no recourse but to throw their lands on the -market. But so terrible had been their experience—many losing $100,000 -in a single season—that no buyers were found for the plantations on -which they had been wrecked. The result of this panic to sell and -disinclination to buy was a toppling of land values. Plantations that -had brought from $100,000 to $150,000 before the war, and even since, -were sold at $6000 to $10,000, or hung on the hands of the planter and -his factor at any price whatever. The ruin seemed to be universal and -complete, and the old plantation system, it then seemed, had perished -utterly and forever. While no definite reason was given for the -failure—free labor and the credit system being the causes usually and -loosely assigned—it went without contradiction that the system of -planting under which the South had amassed its riches and lived in -luxury was inexorably doomed. - -Following this lavish and disastrous period came the era of small farms. -Led into the market by the low prices to which the best lands had -fallen, came a host of small buyers, to accommodate whom the plantations -were subdivided, and offered in lots to suit purchasers. Never perhaps -was there a rural movement, accomplished without revolution or exodus, -that equalled in extent and swiftness the partition of the plantations -of the ex-slave-holders into small farms. As remarkable as was the -eagerness of the negroes—who bought in Georgia alone 6850 farms in three -years—the earth-hunger of the poorer class of the whites, who had been -unable under the slave-holding oligarchy to own land, was even more -striking. In Mississippi there were in 1867 but 412 farms of less than -ten acres, and in 1870, 11,003; only 2314 of over ten and less than -twenty acres, and 1870, 8981; only 16,024 between twenty and one hundred -acres, and in 1870, 38,015. There was thus in this one State a gain of -nearly forty thousand small farms of less than one hundred acres in -about three years. In Georgia the number of small farms sliced off of -the big plantations from 1868 to 1873 was 32,824. In Liberty County -there were in 1866 only three farms of less than ten acres; in 1870 -there were 616, and 749 farms between ten and twenty acres. This -splitting of the old plantations into farms went on with equal rapidity -all over the South, and was hailed with lively expressions of -satisfaction. A population pinned down to the soil on which it lived, -made conservative and prudent by land-ownership, forced to abandon the -lavish method of the old time as it had nothing to spare, and to -cultivate closely and intelligently as it had no acres to waste, living -on cost as it had no credit, and raising its own supplies as it could -not afford to buy—this the South boasted it had in 1873, and this many -believe it has to-day. The small farmer—who was to retrieve the -disasters of the South, and wipe out the last vestige of the planting -aristocracy, between which and the people there was always a lack of -sympathy, by keeping his own acres under his own supervision, and using -hired labor only as a supplement to his own—is still held to be the -typical cotton-raiser. - -But the observer who cares to look beneath the surface will detect signs -of a reverse current. He will discover that there is beyond question a -sure though gradual rebunching of the small farms into large estates, -and a tendency toward the re-establishment of a land-holding oligarchy. -Here and there through all the Cotton States, and almost in every -county, are reappearing the planter princes of the old time, still lords -of acres, though not of slaves. There is in Mississippi one planter who -raises annually 12,000 bales of cotton on twelve consolidated -plantations, aggregating perhaps 50,000 acres. The Capeheart estate on -Albemarle Sound, originally of several thousand acres, had $52,000 worth -of land added last year. In the Mississippi Valley, where, more than -anywhere else, is preserved the distinctive cotton plantation, this -re-absorbing of separate farms into one ownership is going on rapidly. -Mr. F. C. Morehead, an authority on these lands, says that not one-third -of them are owned by the men who held them at the close of the war, and -that they are passing, one after the other, into the hands of the -commission merchants. It is doubtful if there is a neighborhood in all -the South in which casual inquiry will not bring to the front from ten -to a dozen men who have added farm after farm to their possessions for -the past several years, and now own from six to twenty places. It must -not be supposed that these farms are bunched together and run after the -old plantation style. On the contrary, they are cut into even smaller -farms, and rented to small croppers. The question involved is not -whether or not the old plantation methods shall be revived. It is the -much more serious problem as to whether the lands divided forever into -small farms shall be owned by the many or by the few, whether we shall -have in the South a peasantry like that of France, or a tenantry like -that of Ireland. - -By getting at the cause of this threatened re-absorption of the small -farmer into the system from which he so eagerly and bravely sought -release, we shall best understand the movement. It is primarily credit—a -false credit based on usury and oppression, strained to a point where it -breeds distrust and provokes a percentage to compensate for risk, and -strained, not for the purchase of land, which is a security as long as -the debt is unpaid, but for provisions and fertilizers, which are -valueless to either secure the lender or assist the borrower to pay. -With the failure of the large planters and their withdrawal from -business, banks, trust companies, and capitalists withdraw their money -from agricultural loans. The new breed of farmers held too little land -and were too small dealers to command credit or justify investigation. -And yet they were obliged to have money with which to start their work. -Commission merchants therefore borrowed the money from the banks, and -loaned it to village brokers or store-keepers, who in turn loaned it to -farmers in their neighborhood, usually in the form of advancing -supplies. It thus came to the farmer after it had been through three -principals, each of whom demanded a heavy percentage for the risk he -assumed. In every case the farmer gave a lien or mortgage upon his crop -of land. In this lien he waived exemptions and defense, and it amounted -in effect to a deed. Having once given such a paper to his merchant, his -credit was of course gone, and he had to depend upon the man who held -the mortgage for his supplies. To that man he must carry his crop when -it was gathered, pay him commission for handling it, and accept the -settlement that he offered. To give an idea of the oppressiveness of -this system it is only necessary to quote the Commissioner of -Agriculture of Georgia, who by patient investigation discovered that the -Georgia farmers paid prices for supplies that averaged fifty-four per -cent. interest on all they bought. For instance, corn that sold for -eighty-nine cents a bushel cash was sold on time secured by a lien at a -dollar and twelve cents. In Mississippi the percentage is even more -terrible, as the crop lien laws are in force there, and the crop goes -into the hands of the merchant, who charges commission on the estimated -number of bales, whether a half crop or a full one is raised. Even this -maladjustment of credits would not impoverish the farmer if he did not -yield to the infatuation for cotton-planting, and fail to plant anything -but cotton. - -Those who have the nerve to give up part of their land and labor to the -raising of their own supplies and stock have but little need of credit, -and consequently seldom get into the hands of the usurers. But cotton is -the money crop, and offers such flattering inducements that everything -yields to that. It is not unusual to see farmers come to the cities to -buy butter, melons, meal, and vegetables. They rely almost entirely upon -their merchants for meat and bread, hay, forage, and stock. In one -county in Georgia last year, from the small dépôts, $80,000 worth of -meat and bread was shipped to farmers. The official estimate of the -National Cotton Planters’ Association, at its session of 1881, was that -the Cotton States lacked 42,252,244 bushels of wheat, 166,684,279 -bushels of corn, 77,762,108 bushels of oats, or 286,698,632 bushels of -grain, of raising what it consumed. When to this is added 4,011,150 tons -of hay at thirty dollars a ton, and $32,000,000 paid for fertilizers, we -find that the value of the cotton crop is very largely consumed in -paying for the material with which it was made. On this enormous amount -the cotton farmer has to pay the usurous percentage charged by his -merchant broker, which is never less than thirty per cent., and -frequently runs up to seventy per cent. We can appreciate, when we -consider this, the statement of the man who said, “The commission -merchants of the South are gradually becoming farmers, and the farmers, -having learned the trick, will become merchants.” - -The remedy for this deplorable tendency is first the establishment of a -proper system of credit. The great West was in much worse condition than -the South some years ago. The farms were mortgaged, and were being sold -under mortgages, under a system not half so oppressive as that under -which the Southern farmer labors. Boston capital, seeking lucrative -investment, soon began to pour toward the West, in charge of loan -companies, and was put out at eight per cent., and the redemption of -that section was speedily worked out. A similar movement is now started -in the South. An English company, with headquarters at New Orleans, -loaned over $600,000 its first year at eight per cent., with perfect -security. The farmers who borrowed this money were of course immensely -relieved, and the testimony is that they are rapidly working out. In -Atlanta, Georgia, a company is established with $2,000,000 of Boston and -New York capital, which it is loaning on farm lands at seven per cent. -In the first three months of its work it loaned $120,000, and it has now -appointed local agents in thirty counties in the State, and advertises -that it wishes to lend $50,000 in each county. The managers say that -they can command practically unlimited capital for safe risks at seven -per cent. Companies working on the same plan have been established -elsewhere in the South, and it is said that there will be no lack of -capital for safe risks on rural lands in a few years. - -The first reform, however, that must be made is in the system of -farming. The South must prepare to raise her own provisions, compost her -fertilizers, cure her own hay, and breed her own stock. Leaving credit -and usury out of the question, no man can pay seventy-five cents a -bushel for corn, thirty dollars a ton for hay, twenty dollars a barrel -for pork, sixty cents for oats, and raise cotton for eight cents a -pound. The farmers who prosper at the South are the “corn-raisers,” -_i.e._, the men who raise their own supplies, and make cotton their -surplus crop. A gentleman who recorded 320 mortgages last year testified -that not one was placed on the farm of a man who raised his own bread -and meat. The shrewd farmers who always have a bit of money on hand with -which to buy any good place that is to be sold under mortgage are the -“corn-raisers,” and the moment they get possession they rule out the -all-cotton plan, and plant corn and the grasses. That the plan of -farming only needs revision to make the South rich beyond measure is -proven by constant example. A corn-raiser bought a place of 370 acres -for $1700. He at once put six tenants on it, and limited their cotton -acreage to one-third of what they had under cultivation. Each one of the -six made more clear money than the former owner had made, and the rents -for the first year were $1126. The man who bought this farm lives in -Oglethorpe, Georgia, and has fifteen farms all run on the same plan. - -The details of the management of what may be the typical planting -neighborhood of the South in the future are furnished me by the manager -of the Capeheart estate in North Carolina. This estate is divided into -farms of fifty acres each, and rented to tenants. These tenants are -bound to plant fifteen acres in cotton, twelve in corn, eight in small -crops, and let fifteen lie in grass. They pay one-third of the crop as -rent, or one-half if the proprietor furnishes horses and mules. They -have comfortable quarters, and are entitled to the use of surplus -herring and the dressings of the herring caught in the fisheries annexed -to the place. In the center of the estate is a general store managed by -the proprietor, at which the tenants have such a line of credit as they -are entitled to, of course paying a pretty percentage of profit on the -goods they buy. They are universally prosperous, and in some cases, -where by skill and industry they have secured 100 acres, are laying up -money. The profits to Dr. Capeheart are large, and show the margin there -is in buying land that is loosely farmed, and putting it under -intelligent supervision. Of the $52,000 worth of land added to his -estates last year, at a valuation of twenty-five dollars per acre, he -will realize in rental nine dollars per acre for every acre cultivated, -and calculates that in five years at the most the rentals of the land -will have paid back what he gave for it. - -Amid all this transition from land-owner to tenant there is, besides the -corn-raiser, one other steadfast figure, undisturbed by change of -relation or condition, holding tenaciously to what it has, though little -inclined to push for more. This is Cuffee, the darky farmer. There is no -more interesting study in our agriculture than this same dusky, -good-natured fellow—humble, patient, shrewd—as he drives into town with -his mixed team and his one bag of cotton, on which, drawn by a -sympathetic sense of ownership, his whole family is clustered. Living -simply and frugally, supplementing his humble meal with a ’possum caught -in the night hunt, or a rabbit shot with the old army musket that he -captured from some deserted battle-field, and allowing no idlers in the -family save the youngsters who “tend de free school,” he defies alike -the usurer and the land-shark. In the State of Georgia he owns 680,000 -acres of land, cut up into farms that barely average ten acres each, and -in the Cotton States he owns 2,680,800 acres, similarly divided. From -this possession it is impossible to drive him, and to this possession he -adds gradually as the seasons go by. He is not ambitious, however, to -own large tracts of land, preferring the few acres that he has -constantly under his eye, and to every foot of which he feels a rude -attachment. - -The relations of the negro to cotton are peculiar. Although he spends -the most of his life in the cotton field, and this staple is the main -crop with which he is concerned, it does not enter into his social life, -catch his sentiment, or furnish the occasion for any of his pleasures. -None of his homely festivals hinge upon the culture or handling of the -great staple. He has his corn-shuckings, his log-rollings, his quilting -bees, his threshing jousts, and indeed every special work about the farm -is made to yield its element of frolic, except the making of cotton. -None of those tuneful melodies with which he beguiles his work or -gladdens his play-time acknowledge cotton as a subject or an incident. -None of the folklore with which the moonlight nights are whiled away or -the fire-lit cabins sanctified, and which finds its home in the corn -patch or the meadows, has aught to do with the cotton field. I have -never heard a negro song in which the cotton field is made the -incidental theme or the subject of allusion, except in a broken -perversion of that incomparable ballad, “The Mocking-Bird,” in which the -name of the heroine, the tender sentiment, and the tune, which is a -favorite one with the negroes, are preserved. This song, with the flower -of Southern girlhood that points the regretful tenderness changed into a -dusky maiden idealized by early death, with the “mocking-bird singing -o’er her grave,” and sung in snatches almost without words or coherence, -is popular with the field hands in many parts of the South. - -But when we have discussed the questions involved in the planting and -culture of the cotton crop, as serious as they are, we have had to do -with the least important phase of our subject. The crop of 7,000,000 -bales, when ready for the market, is worth in round numbers -$300,000,000. The same crop when manufactured is worth over -$900,000,000. Will the South be content to see the whole of this added -value realized by outsiders? If not, how much of the work necessary to -create this value will she do within her own borders? She has abundant -water-powers, that are never locked a day by ice or lowered by drought, -that may be had for a mere song; cheap labor, cheap lands, an unequaled -climate, cheap fuel, and the conditions of cheap living. Can these be -utilized to any general extent? - -It may be premised that there are questions of the utmost importance to -the South outside of the manufacture of the lint, which is usually held -to cover the whole question of cotton manufacture. There is no particle -of the cotton plant that may not be handled to advantage. Mr. Edward -Atkinson is authority for the statement that if a plant similar to -cotton, but having no lint, could be grown in the North, it would be one -of the most profitable of crops. And yet it is true that up to a late -date the seed of the cotton has been wholly wasted, and even now the -stalk is thrown away as useless. A crop of 7,000,000 bales will yield -3,500,000 tons of cotton seed. Every ounce of this seed is valuable, and -in the past few years it has been so handled as to add very heavily to -the value of the crop. The first value of the seed is as a fertilizer. -It has been discovered of late that the seed that had been formerly -allowed to accumulate about the gin-houses in vast piles and rot as -waste material, when put upon the fields would add twenty-five to -thirty-three per cent. to the crop, and was equal to many of the -fertilizers that sell in the market for $25 per ton. In 1869 a mill was -established in New Orleans for the purpose of pressing the oil from the -cotton seed, and manufacturing the bulk into stock food. Its success was -so pronounced that there are now fifty-nine seed-oil mills in the South, -costing over $6,000,000, and working up $5,500,000 worth of seed -annually. The product of the seed used sells for $9,600,000, so that the -mills create a value of $4,500,000 annually. They used only one-seventh -of the seed produced in the South. A ton of seed which can be worked for -$5.50 a ton, and cost originally $8 to $10, making an average cost when -worked of $15, is estimated to produce thirty-five gallons of oil worth -$11.50, seed-cake worth $5.50, and lint worth $1.50—a total of $18.50, -or profit of $3.50, per ton. The oil is of excellent quality, and is -used in the making of soaps, stearine, white oils, and when highly -refined is a table oil of such flavor and appearance as will deceive the -best judges. A quality has been lately discovered in it that makes it -valuable as a dye-stuff. It is shipped largely to Europe, 130,000 -barrels having been exported last year, chiefly to Antwerp. It is put up -carefully, and re-shipped to this country as olive-oil to such an extent -that prohibitory duties have been put on it by the Italian government, -and it is ruled out of that country. Before it is placed in the oil mill -the cotton seed is hulled. The hulls are valuable, and may be used for -tanning, made into pulp for paper stock, or used as fuel, and the ashes -sold to the soap-makers for the potash they contain. The mass of kernels -left after the hulls have been removed and the oil pressed out is made -into seed-cake, a most desirable food for stock, which is exported -largely to Europe. It is also worked into a fertilizer that yields under -analysis $37.50 in value per ton, and can be sold for $22 a ton. It is a -notable fact that the ton of seed-cake is even more valuable as a stock -food after the $11.50 worth of oil has been taken from it than before, -and quite as valuable as a fertilizer. In the four hundred pounds of -lint in a bale of cotton there are but four pounds of chemical elements -taken from the soil; in the oil there is little more; but in the -seed-cake and hulls there are forty pounds of potash and phosphate of -lime. But admirable as is the disposition of the cotton seed for -manufacture, ample as is the margin of profit, and rapid as has been the -growth in the industry, there exists the same disorganization that is -noticeable in the handling of the whole cotton question. Although less -than one-seventh of the seed raised is needed by the mills, they are -unable to get enough to keep them running. The cotton is ginned in such -awkward distribution, and in such small quantity at any one locality, -that it cannot be gathered promptly or cheaply enough for the oil mills. -Of the 3,500,000 tons of seed, 500,000 tons only are worked up, and -perhaps as much more used for seed. This leaves 2,500,000 tons not -worked, and in which is lost nearly $30,000,000 worth of oil. For -whether this two and a half million tons is used as a fertilizer or fed -to the stock, it would lose none of its value for either purpose if the -thirty-five gallons of oil, worth $11.50, were extracted from each ton -of it. - -Even when the South has passed beyond the proper handling of cotton -seed, she has very important ground to cover before she arrives at what -is generally known as cotton manufacturing. “The manufacture of this -staple,” says a very eminent authority, “is a unit, beginning at the -field where the cotton is picked, and ending at the factory from which -the cloth is sent to the merchant.” How little this essential truth has -been appreciated is apparent from the fact that, until the last census, -ginning, pressing, and baling have been classed with the “production” of -cotton, and its manufacture held to consist solely of spinning and -weaving. Yet there is not a process to which the lint is submitted after -it is thrown from the negro’s “pocket” that does not act directly on the -quality of the cloth that is finally produced, and on the cheapness and -efficiency with which the cloth is made. The separation of the fibre -from the seed, the disposition made of the fluffy lint before it is -compressed, the compression itself, and the baling of the compressed -cotton—these are all delicate operations, involving the integrity of the -fibre, the cost of getting it ready for the spindle, and the ease with -which it may be spun. Indeed, Mr. Hammond, of South Carolina, a most -accomplished writer, contends that the gin-house is the pivotal point -around which the whole manufacture of cotton revolves. There is no -question that with one-tenth of the money invested in improved gins, -cleaners, and pressers that would be required for factories, and with -incomparably less risk, the South could make one-half the profit, pound -for pound, that is made in the mills of New England. Mr. F. C. Morehead, -already alluded to in this article, says: “A farmer who produces 500 -bales of cotton—200,000 pounds—can, by the expenditure of $1500 on -improved gins and cleaners, add one cent per pound to the value of his -crop, or $2000. If he added only one-half of one cent, he would get in -the first year over fifty per cent. return of his outlay.” Mr. Edward -Atkinson—to close this list of authorities—says that the cotton crop is -deteriorated ten per cent. at least by being improperly handled from the -field to the factory. It is, of course, equally true that a reform in -this department of the manufacture of cotton would add ten per cent. to -the value of the crop—say $30,000,000—and that, too, without cost to the -consumer. Much of the work now done in the mills of New England is -occasioned by the errors committed in ginning and packing. Not only -would the great part of the dust, sand, and grit that get into cotton -from careless handling about the gin-house be kept out if it were -properly protected, but that which is in the fibre naturally could be -cleaned out more efficiently and with one-third the labor and cost, if -it were taken before it has been compressed and baled. Beyond this, the -excessive beating and tearing of the fibre necessary to clean it after -the sand has been packed in, weaken and impair it, and the sand injures -the costly and delicate machinery of the mills. - -The capital available to the farmers of any neighborhood in the South is -entirely adequate to make thorough reform in this most important, -safest, and most profitable department of the manufacture of cotton. A -gin-house constructed on the best plan, supplied with the new roller -gins lately invented in England, that guarantee to surpass in quantity -of cotton ginned as well as quality of lint our rude and imperfect saw -gins, having automatic feeders to pass the picking to the gin, and an -apron to receive the lint as it comes from the gin and carry it to the -beater, or cleaner, where all the motes and dust can be taken from the -freshly ginned fibre and then, instead of rolling this fleecy mass on a -dirty floor, where it would catch every particle of dust and grit, to -carry it direct to a Dedrick press that would compress forty pounds -within a cubic foot, and reduce the little bale of one hundred and -twenty pounds to the consistency of elm-wood, and as little liable to -soak water or catch dirt—an establishment of this sort would add one -cent per pound to every pound of cotton put through it, and would be -worth more as an example than a dozen cotton factories. Annexed to this -gin-house should be a huller to take the hulls from the seed and to this -huller the seed should be taken as it comes from the gins. Once hulled, -the hulls should be fed to the stock, restored to the soil, or sold, and -the kernels sent to the nearest oil mill, the oil sold, and the meal fed -to sheep or stock, or used as a fertilizer. These improvements, costing -little, and within the skill of ordinary laborers, would bring as good a -profit as could be realized by a factory involving enormous outlay, -great risk, and the utmost skill of management. The importance of reform -here will be seen when we state that there is half as much capital—say -$70,000,000—invested in machinery for baling, pressing, and ginning -cotton as there is invested in the United States in machinery for -weaving and spinning it. So great has been the progress in invention, -and so sluggish the cotton farmer to reform either his methods or his -machinery, that experts agree that the ginning, pressing, and baling of -the crop could be done with one-half or possibly one-third of the labor -and cost of the present, and done so much better that the product would -be worth ten per cent. more than it now commands, if the best machinery -were bought, and the best methods employed. - -The urgency and the magnitude of the reforms needed in the field and -about the gin-house have not deterred the South from aspiring to spin -and weave at least the bulk of the cotton crop. Indeed, there is nothing -that so appeals to Southern pride as to urge the possibility that in -time the manufacture of this crop as well as the crop itself shall be a -monopoly of the cotton belt. As the South grows richer and the -conditions of competition are nearer equal, there will be a tendency to -place new machinery intended for the manufacture of cotton near the -field in which the staple is growing; but the extent to which this -tendency will control, or the time in which it will become controlling, -is beyond the scope of this article. We shall rather deal with things as -they are, or are likely to be in the very near future. We note, then, -that in the past ten years the South has more than doubled the amount of -cotton manufactured within her borders. In 1870, there were used -45,032,866 pounds of cotton; in 1880, 101,937,256 pounds. In 1870, there -were 11,602 looms and 416,983 spindles running; in 1880, 15,222 looms -and 714,078 spindles. This array of figures hardly indicates fairly the -progress that the South will make in the next ten years, for the reason -that the factories in which these spindles are turned are experiments in -most of the localities in which they are placed. It is the invariable -rule that when a factory is built in any city or country it is easier to -raise the capital for a subsequent enterprise than for the first one. At -Augusta, Georgia, for instance, where the manufacture of cloth has been -demonstrated a success, the progress is remarkable. In the past two -years two new mills, the Enterprise and Sibly, with 30,000 spindles -each, have been established; and a third, the King, has been organized, -with a capital of $1,000,000 and 30,000 spindles. The capital for these -mills was furnished about one-fourth in Augusta, and the balance in the -North. With these mills running, Augusta will have 170,000 spindles, and -will have added about 70,000 spindles to the last census returns. In -South Carolina the same rapid growth is resulting from the establishment -of one or two successful mills; and in Columbus, Georgia, the influence -of one successful mill, the Eagle and Phœnix, has raised the local -consumption of cotton from 1927 bales in 1870 to 19,000 bales in 1880. -In Atlanta, Georgia, the first mill had hardly been finished before the -second was started; a third is projected; and two companies have secured -charters for the building of a forty-mile canal to furnish water-power -and factory fronts to capital in and about the city. These things are -mentioned simply to show that the growth of cotton manufacture in the -South is sympathetic, and that each factory established is an argument -for others. There is no investment that has proved so uniformly -successful in the South as that put into cotton factories. An Augusta -factory just advertises eight per cent. semi-annual dividend; the Eagle -and Phœnix, of Columbus, earned twenty-five per cent. last year; the -Augusta factory for eleven years made an average of eighteen per cent. -per annum. The net earnings of the Langley Mills was $480,000 for its -first eight years on a capital of $400,000, or an average of fifteen per -cent. a year. The earnings of sixty Southern mills, large and small, -selected at random, for three years, averaged fourteen per cent. per -annum. - -Indeed, an experience varied and extended enough to give it authority -teaches that there is absolutely no reason why the South should not -profitably quadruple its capacity for the manufacture of cotton every -year in the next five years except the lack of capital. The lack of -skilled labor has proved to be a chimerical fear, as the mills bring -enough of skilled labor to any community in which they are established -to speedily educate up a native force. It may be true that for the most -delicate work the South will for a while lack the efficient labor of New -England that has been trained for generations, but it is equally true -that no factory in the South has ever been stopped a week for the lack -of suitable labor. The operatives can live cheaper than at the North, -and can be had for lower wages. As sensible a man as Mr. Edward Atkinson -claimed lately that in the cotton country proper a person could not keep -at continuous in-door labor during the summer. The answer to this is -that during the present summer, the hottest ever known, not a Southern -mill has stopped for one day or hour on account of the heat, and this, -too, when scores of establishments through the Western and Northern -cities were closed. One of the strongest points of advantage the South -has is that for no extreme of climate, acting on the machinery, the -operatives, or the water-supply, is any of her mills forced to suspend -work at any season. Beyond this, Southern water-powers can be purchased -low, and the land adjacent at a song; there are no commissions to pay on -the purchase of cotton, no freight on its transportation, and it is -submitted to the picker before it has undergone serious compression. Mr. -W. H. Young, of Columbus, perhaps the best Southern authority, estimates -that the Columbus mills have an advantage of nine-tenths of a cent per -pound over their Northern competitors, and this in a mill of 1600 looms -will amount to nine per cent. on the entire capital, or $120,099. The -Southern mills, without exception, pulled through the years of -depression that followed the panic of 1873, paying regular dividends of -from six per cent. to fifteen, and, it may be said, have thoroughly won -the confidence of investors North and South. The one thing that has -retarded the growth of manufacturing in the Cotton States, the lack of -capital, is being overcome with astonishing rapidity. Within the past -two years considerably over $100,000,000 of Northern capital has been -subscribed, in lots of $1,000,000 and upward, for the purchase and -development of Southern railroads and mining properties; the total will -probably run to $120,000,000. There is now being expended in the -building of new railroads from Atlanta, Georgia, as headquarters, -$17,800,000, not one dollar of which was subscribed by Georgians or by -the State of Georgia. The men who invest these vast amounts in the South -are interested in the general development of the section into which they -have gone with their enterprise, and they readily double any local -subscription for any legitimate local improvement. By the sale of these -railroad properties to Northern syndicates at advanced prices the local -stockholders have realized heavily in cash, and this surplus is seeking -manufacturing investment. The prospect is that the next ten years will -witness a growth in this direction beyond what even the most sanguine -predict. - -The International Cotton Exposition, opening October 5, of the present -year, in Atlanta, must have a tremendous influence in improving the -culture, handling, and manufacture of the great staple of the South. The -Southern people do not lack the desire to keep abreast with improvement -and invention, but on the contrary have shown precipitate eagerness in -reaching out for the best and newest. Before the war, when the Southern -planter had a little surplus money he bought a slave. Since the war, he -buys a piece of machinery. The trouble has been that he was forced to -buy without any guide as to the value of what he bought, or its -adaptability to the purposes for which he intended it. The consequence -is that the farms are littered with ill-adapted and inferior implements -and machines, representing twice the investment that, intelligently -placed, would provide an equipment that with half the labor would do -better work. It is the purpose of the exposition to bring the farmers -face to face with the very best machinery that invention and experience -have produced. The buildings themselves will be models each of its kind, -and will represent the judgment of experts as to cheapness, durability, -safety and general excellence. The past and present will be contrasted -in the exhibition. The old loom on which the rude fabrics of our -forefathers were woven by hands gentle and loving will be put against -the more elaborate looms of to-day. The spinning wheel of the past, that -filled all the country-side with its drowsy music, as the dusky spinner -advanced and retreated, with not ungraceful courtesy and a swinging -sidewise shuffle, will find its sweet voice lost in the hum of modern -spindles. The cycle of gins and ginning will be there completed, -invention coming back, after a half-century of trial with the brutal -saw, to a perfected variation of the patient and gentle roller with -which the precious fleece was pulled from the seed years upon years ago. -There are the most wonderful machines promised, including a half-dozen -that claim to have solved the problem—supposed to be past finding out—of -picking cotton by machinery. Large fields flank the buildings, and on -these are tested the various kinds of cotton seed, fed by the various -kinds of fertilizers, each put in fair competition with the others. - -One of the most important special inventions at the exposition will be -the Clement attachment—a contrivance for spinning the cotton as it comes -from the gin. The invention is simply the marriage of the gin to the -spindle. These are joined by two large cards that take the fibre from -the gin, straighten it out, and pass it directly to the spinning boards, -where it is made into the best of yarns. The announcement of this -invention two years ago created very great excitement. If it proved a -success, the whole system of cotton manufacture was changed. If the -cotton could be spun directly from the gin, all the expense of baling -would be eliminated, and four or five expensive steps in the process of -cotton from field to cloth would be rendered unnecessary. Better than -all, the South argued, the Clement attachment brought the heaviest part -of manufacturing to the cotton field, from which it could never be -divorced. By the simple joining of the spindles to the gin, the cotton, -worth only eight or nine cents as baled lint, in which shape it had been -shipped North, became worth sixteen to eighteen cents as yarns. The home -value of the crop was thus to be doubled, and by such process as New -England could never capture. Several of the attachments were put to -work, and were visited by thousands. They produced an excellent quality -of yarns, and made a clear profit of two cents per pound on the cotton -treated. The investment required was small, and it was held that $5000 -would certainly bring a net annual profit of $2200. Many of these little -mills are still running, and profitably; but difficulties between the -owner and his agents, and a general suspicion raised by his declining to -put the machine on its merits before certain agricultural associations, -prevented its general adoption. That this attachment, or some machine of -similar character for spinning the cotton into yarns near the field -where it is grown, will be generally adopted through the South in the -near future, I have not a particle of doubt; that the exposition with -its particular exhibits on this point will hasten the day, there is -every reason to hope. There are many yarn mills already scattered -through the South, but none of them promise the results that will be -achieved when the spindles are wedded to the gin, and the same motive -power drives both, carrying the cotton without delay or compression from -seed to thread. - -Such, then, in brief and casual review, is King Cotton, his subjects, -and his realm. Vast as his concerns and possessions may appear at -present, they are but the hint of what the future will develop. The -best authority puts the amount of cotton goods manufactured in America -at about fourteen pounds per head of population, of which twelve -pounds per capita are retained for home consumption, leaving only a -small margin for export. On the Continent there is but one country, -probably—Switzerland—that manufactures more cotton goods than it -consumes; and the Continent demands from Great Britain an amount of -cotton cloth that, added to its own supply, exhausts nearly one-half -the product of the English mills. It is hardly probable that, under -the sharp competition of American mills, the capacity of either -England or the Continent for producing ordinary cotton cloths will be -greatly increased. But, with the yield of the English and Continental -mills at least measurably defined and now rapidly absorbed, there is -an enormous demand for machine-made cotton fabrics springing from new -and virtually exhaustless sources. The continents of Asia, Africa, -South America, Australia, and the countries lying between the two -American continents, contain more than 800,000,000 people, according -to general authority. This immense population is clothed in cotton -almost exclusively, and almost as exclusively in hand-made fabrics. -That the cheap and superior products of the modern factory will -displace these hand-made goods as rapidly as they can be delivered -upon competing terms, cannot be doubted. To supply China alone with -cotton fabrics made by machine, deducting the 35,000,000 people or -thereabout already supplied, and estimating the demand of the -remainder at five pounds per capita, would require 3,000,000 -additional bales of cotton and 30,000,000 additional spindles. The -goods needed for this demand will be the lower grades of cottons, for -the manufacture of which the South is especially adapted, and in which -there is serious reason to believe she has demonstrated she has -advantages over New England. The demand from Mexico, Central and South -America, will grow into immense proportions as cotton and its products -cheapen under increased supply, and improved methods of culture and -manufacture. The South will be called upon to furnish the cotton to -meet the calls of the peoples enumerated. That she can easily do so -has been made plain by previous estimate, but it may be added that -hardly three per cent. of the cotton area is now devoted to cotton, -and that on one-tenth of a single Cotton State—Texas—double the -present crop might be raised. Whether or not she will do this -profitably, and without destroying the happiness and prosperity of her -former population, and building up a land-holding oligarchy, depends -on a reform in her system of credit and her system of planting. The -first is being effected by the introduction of capital that recognizes -farming lands as a safe risk worthy of a low percentage of interest; -the latter must depend on the intelligence of her people, the force of -a few bright examples, and the wisdom of her leaders. She will be -called upon to supply a large proportion of the manufactured goods for -this new and limitless demand. It has already been shown that she has -felicitous conditions for this work. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - IN PLAIN BLACK AND WHITE.[2] - -Footnote 2: - - Reprinted from The Century, April, 1885. - - ------- - - A REPLY TO MR. CABLE. - -IT is strange that during the discussion of the negro question, which -has been wide and pertinent, no one has stood up to speak the mind of -the South. In this discussion there has been much of truth and more of -error—something of perverseness, but more of misapprehension—not a -little of injustice, but perhaps less of mean intention. - -Amid it all, the South has been silent. - -There has been, perhaps, good reason for this silence. The problem under -debate is a tremendous one. Its right solution means peace, prosperity, -and happiness to the South. A mistake, even in the temper in which it is -approached or the theory upon which its solution is attempted, would -mean detriment, that at best would be serious, and might easily be -worse. Hence the South has pondered over this problem, earnestly seeking -with all her might the honest and the safe way out of its entanglements, -and saying little because there was but little to which she felt safe in -committing herself. Indeed, there was another reason why she did not -feel called upon to obtrude her opinions. The people of the North, -proceeding by the right of victorious arms, had themselves undertaken to -settle the negro question. From the Emancipation Proclamation to the -Civil Rights Bill they hurried with little let or hindrance, holding the -negro in the meanwhile under a sort of tutelage, from part in which his -former masters were practically excluded. Under this state of things the -South had little to do but watch and learn. - -We have now passed fifteen years of experiment. Certain broad principles -have been established as wise and just. - -The South has something to say which she can say with confidence. There -is no longer impropriety in her speaking or lack of weight in her words. -The people of the United States have, by their suffrages, remitted to -the Southern people, temporarily at least, control of the race question. -The decision of the Supreme Court on the Civil Rights Bill leaves -practically to their adjustment important issues that were, until that -decision was rendered, covered by straight and severe enactment. These -things deepen the responsibility of the South, increase its concern, and -confront it with a problem to which it must address itself promptly and -frankly. Where it has been silent, it now should speak. The interest of -every American in the honorable and equitable settlement of this -question is second only to the interest of those specially—and -fortunately, we believe—charged with its adjustment. “What will you do -with it?” is a question any man may now ask the South, and to which the -South should make frank and full reply. - -It is important that this reply shall be plain and straightforward. -Above all things it must carry the genuine convictions of the people it -represents. On this subject and at this time the South cannot afford to -be misunderstood. Upon the clear and general apprehension of her -position and of her motives and purpose everything depends. She cannot -let pass unchallenged a single utterance that, spoken in her name, -misstates her case or her intention. It is to protest against just such -injustice that this article is written. - -In a lately printed article, Mr. George W. Cable, writing in the name of -the Southern people, confesses judgment on points that they still -defend, and commits them to a line of thought from which they must -forever dissent. In this article, as in his works, the singular -tenderness and beauty of which have justly made him famous, Mr. Cable is -sentimental rather than practical. But the reader, enchained by the -picturesque style and misled by the engaging candor with which the -author admits the shortcomings of “We of the South,” and the kindling -enthusiasm with which he tells how “We of the South” must make -reparation, is apt to assume that it is really the soul of the South -that breathes through Mr. Cable’s repentant sentences. It is not my -purpose to discuss Mr. Cable’s relations to the people for whom he -claims to speak. Born in the South, of Northern parents, he appears to -have had little sympathy with his Southern environment, as in 1882 he -wrote, “To be in New England would be enough for me. I was there once,—a -year ago,—and it seemed as if I had never been home till then.” It will -be suggested that a man so out of harmony with his neighbors as to say, -even after he had fought side by side with them on the battle-field, -that he never felt at home until he had left them, cannot speak -understandingly of their views on so vital a subject as that under -discussion. But it is with his statement rather than his personality -that we have to deal. Does he truly represent the South? We reply that -he does not! There may be here and there in the South a dreaming -theorist who subscribes to Mr. Cable’s teachings. We have seen no signs -of one. Among the thoughtful men of the South,—the men who felt that all -brave men might quit fighting when General Lee surrendered,—who, -enshrining in their hearts the heroic memories of the cause they had -lost, in good faith accepted the arbitrament of the sword to which they -had appealed,—who bestirred themselves cheerfully amid the ruins of -their homes, and set about the work of rehabilitation,—who have patched -and mended and builded anew, and fashioned out of pitiful resource a -larger prosperity than they ever knew before,—who have set their homes -on the old red hills, and staked their honor and prosperity and the -peace and well-being of the children who shall come after them on the -clear and equitable solution of every social, industrial, or political -problem that concerns the South,—among these men, who control and will -continue to control, I do know, there is general protest against Mr. -Cable’s statement of the case, and universal protest against his -suggestions for the future. The mind of these men I shall attempt to -speak, maintaining my right to speak for them with the pledge that, -having exceptional means for knowing their views on this subject, and -having spared no pains to keep fully informed thereof, I shall write -down nothing in their name on which I have found even a fractional -difference of opinion. - -A careful reading of Mr. Cable’s article discloses the following -argument: The Southern people have deliberately and persistently evaded -the laws forced on them for the protection of the freedman; this evasion -has been the result of prejudices born of and surviving the institution -of slavery, the only way to remove which is to break down every -distinction between the races; and now the best thought of the South, -alarmed at the withdrawal of the political machinery that forced the -passage of the protective laws, which withdrawal tempts further and more -intolerable evasions, is moving to forbid all further assortment of the -races and insist on their intermingling in all places and in all -relations. The first part of this argument is a matter of record, and, -from the Southern stand-point, mainly a matter of reputation. It can -bide its time. The suggestion held in its conclusion is so impossible, -so mischievous, and, in certain aspects, so monstrous, that it must be -met at once. - -It is hard to think about the negro with exactness. His helplessness, -his generations of enslavement, his unique position among the peoples of -the earth, his distinctive color, his simple, lovable traits,—all these -combine to hasten opinion into conviction where he is the subject of -discussion. Three times has this tendency brought about epochal results -in his history. First, it abolished slavery. For this all men are -thankful, even those who, because of the personal injustice and violence -of the means by which it was brought about, opposed its accomplishment. -Second, it made him a voter. This, done more in a sense of reparation -than in judgment, is as final as the other. The North demanded it; the -South expected it; all acquiesced in it, and, wise or unwise, it will -stand. Third, it fixed by enactment his social and civil rights. And -here for the first time the revolution faltered. Up to this point the -way had been plain, the light clear, and the march at quick-step. Here -the line halted. The way was lost; there was hesitation, division, and -uncertainty. Knowing not which way to turn, and enveloped in doubt, the -revolutionists heard the retreat sounded by the Supreme Court with small -reluctance, and, to use Mr. Cable’s words, “bewildered by complication, -vexed by many a blunder,” retired from the field. See, then, the -progress of this work. The first step, right by universal agreement, -would stand if the law that made it were withdrawn. The second step, -though irrevocable, raises doubts as to its wisdom. The third, wrong in -purpose, has failed in execution. It stands denounced as null by the -highest court, as inoperative by general confession, and as unwise by -popular verdict. Let us take advantage of this halt in the too rapid -revolution, and see exactly where we stand and what is best for us to -do. The situation is critical. The next moment may formulate the work of -the next twenty years. The tremendous forces of the revolution, unspent -and still terrible, are but held in arrest. Launch them mistakenly, -chaos may come. Wrong-headedness may be as fatal now as -wrong-heartedness. Clear views, clear statement, and clear understanding -are the demands of the hour. Given these, the common sense and courage -of the American people will make the rest easy. - -Let it be understood in the beginning, then, that the South will never -adopt Mr. Cable’s suggestion of the social intermingling of the races. -It can never be driven into accepting it. So far from there being a -growing sentiment in the South in favor of the indiscriminate mixing of -the races, the intelligence of both races is moving farther from that -proposition day by day. It is more impossible (if I may shade a -superlative) now than it was ten years ago; it will be less possible ten -years hence. Neither race wants it. The interest, as the inclination, of -both races is against it. Here the issue with Mr. Cable is made up. He -denounces any assortment of the races as unjust, and demands that white -and black shall intermingle everywhere. The South replies that the -assortment of the races is wise and proper, and stands on the platform -of equal accommodation for each race, but separate. - -The difference is an essential one. Deplore or defend it as we may, an -antagonism is bred between the races when they are forced into mixed -assemblages. This sinks out of sight, if not out of existence, when each -race moves in its own sphere. Mr. Cable admits this feeling, but doubts -that it is instinctive. In my opinion it is instinctive—deeper than -prejudice or pride, and bred in the bone and blood. It would make itself -felt even in sections where popular prejudice runs counter to its -manifestation. If in any town in Wisconsin or Vermont there was equal -population of whites and blacks, and schools, churches, hotels, and -theaters were in common, this instinct would assuredly develop; the -races would separate, and each race would hasten the separation. Let me -give an example that touches this supposition closely. Bishop Gilbert -Haven, of the Methodist Episcopal Church, many years ago came to the -South earnestly, and honestly, we may believe, devoted to breaking up -the assortment of the races. He was backed by powerful influences in the -North. He was welcomed by resident Northerners in the South (then in -control of Southern affairs) as an able and eloquent exponent of their -views. His first experiment toward mixing the races was made in the -church—surely the most propitious field. Here the fraternal influence of -religion emphasized his appeals for the brotherhood of the races. What -was the result? After the first month his church was decimated. The -Northern whites and the Southern blacks left it in squads. The dividing -influences were mutual. The stout bishop contended with prayer and -argument and threat against the inevitable, but finally succumbed. Two -separate churches were established, and each race worshiped to itself. -There had been no collision, no harsh words, no discussion even. Each -race simply obeyed its instinct, that spoke above the appeal of the -bishop and dominated the divine influences that pulsed from pew to pew. -Time and again did the bishop force the experiment. Time and again he -failed. At last he was driven to the confession that but one thing could -effect what he had tried so hard to bring about, and that was -miscegenation. A few years of experiment would force Mr. Cable to the -same conclusion. - -The same experiment was tried on a larger scale by the Methodist -Episcopal Church (North) when it established its churches in the South -after the war. It essayed to bring the races together, and in its -conferences and its churches there was no color line. Prejudice -certainly did not operate to make a division here. On the contrary, the -whites and blacks of this church were knit together by prejudice, pride, -sentiment, political and even social policy. Underneath all this was a -race instinct, obeying which, silently, they drifted swiftly apart. -While white Methodists of the church North and of the church South, -distant from each other in all but the kinship of race and worship, were -struggling to effect once more a union of the churches that had been -torn apart by a quarrel over slavery, so that in every white conference -and every white church on all this continent white Methodists could -stand in restored brotherhood, the Methodist Church (North) agreed, -without serious protest, to a separation of its Southern branch into two -conferences of whites and of blacks, and into separate congregations -where the proportion of either race was considerable. Was it without -reason—it certainly was not through prejudice—that this Church, while -seeking anew fusion with its late enemies, consented to separate from -its new friends? - -It was the race instinct that spoke there. It spoke not with prejudice, -but against it. It spoke there as it speaks always and everywhere—as it -has spoken for two thousand years. And it spoke to the reason of each -race. Millaud, in voting in the French Convention for the beheading of -Louis XVI., said: “If death did not exist, it would be necessary to-day -to invent it.” So of this instinct. It is the pledge of the integrity of -each race, and of peace between the races. Without it, there might be a -breaking down of all lines of division and a thorough intermingling of -whites and blacks. This once accomplished, the lower and the weaker -elements of the races would begin to fuse and the process of -amalgamation would have begun. This would mean the disorganization of -society. An internecine war would be precipitated. The whites, at any -cost and at any hazard, would maintain the clear integrity and dominance -of the Anglo-Saxon blood. They understand perfectly that the debasement -of their own race would not profit the humble and sincere race with -which their lot is cast, and that the hybrid would not gain what either -race lost. Even if the vigor and the volume of the Anglo-Saxon blood -would enable it to absorb the African current, and after many -generations recover its own strength and purity, not all the powers of -earth could control the unspeakable horrors that would wait upon the -slow process of clarification. Easier far it would be to take the -population of central New York, intermingle with it an equal percentage -of Indians, and force amalgamation between the two. Let us review the -argument. If Mr. Cable is correct in assuming that there is no instinct -that keeps the two races separate in the South, then there is no reason -for doubting that if intermingled they would fuse. Mere prejudice would -not long survive perfect equality and social intermingling; and the -prejudice once gone, intermarrying would begin. Then, if there is a race -instinct in either race that resents intimate association with the -other, it would be unwise to force such association when there are easy -and just alternatives. If there is no such instinct, the mixing of the -races would mean amalgamation, to which the whites will never submit, -and to which neither race should submit. So that in either case, whether -the race feeling is instinct or prejudice, we come to but one -conclusion: The white and black races in the South must walk apart. -Concurrent their courses may go—ought to go—will go—but separate. If -instinct did not make this plain in a flash, reason would spell it out -letter by letter. - -Now, let us see. We hold that there is an instinct, ineradicable and -positive, that will keep the races apart, that would keep the races -apart if the problem were transferred to Illinois or to Maine, and that -will resist every effort of appeal, argument, or force to bring them -together. We add in perfect frankness, however, that if no such instinct -existed, or if the South had reasonable doubt of its existence, it -would, by every means in its power, so strengthen the race prejudice -that it would do the work and hold the stubbornness and strength of -instinct. The question that confronts us at this point is: Admitted this -instinct, that gathers each race to itself. Then, do you believe it -possible to carry forward on the same soil and under the same laws two -races equally free, practically equal in numbers, and yet entirely -distinct and separate? This is a momentous question. It involves a -problem that, all things considered, is without a precedent or parallel. -Can the South carry this problem in honor and in peace to an equitable -solution? We reply that for ten years the South has been doing this very -thing, and with at least apparent success. No impartial and observant -man can say that in the present aspect of things there is cause for -alarm, or even for doubt. In the experience of the past few years there -is assuredly reason for encouragement. There may be those who discern -danger in the distant future. We do not. Beyond the apprehensions which -must for a long time attend a matter so serious, we see nothing but -cause for congratulation. In the common sense and the sincerity of the -negro, no less than in the intelligence and earnestness of the whites, -we find the problem simplifying. So far from the future bringing -trouble, we feel confident that another decade or so, confirming the -experience of the past ten years, will furnish the solution to be -accepted of all men. - -Let us examine briefly what the South has been doing, and study the -attitude of the races toward each other. Let us do this, not so much to -vindicate the past as to clear the way for the future. Let us see what -the situation teaches. There must be in the experience of fifteen years -something definite and suggestive. We begin with the schools and school -management, as the basis of the rest. - -Every Southern State has a common-school system, and in every State -separate schools are provided for the races. Almost every city of more -than five thousand inhabitants has a public-school system, and in every -city the schools for whites and blacks are separate. There is no -exception to this rule that I can find. In many cases the law creating -this system requires that separate schools shall be provided for the -races. This plan works admirably. There is no friction in the -administration of the schools, and no suspicion as to the ultimate -tendency of the system. The road to school is clear, and both races walk -therein with confidence. The whites, assured that the school will not be -made the hot-bed of false and pernicious ideas, or the scene of unwise -associations, support the system cordially, and insist on perfect -equality in grade and efficiency. The blacks, asking no more than this, -fill the schools with alert and eager children. So far from feeling -debased by the separate-school system, they insist that the separation -shall be carried further, and the few white teachers yet presiding over -negro schools supplanted by negro teachers. The appropriations for -public schools are increased year after year, and free education grows -constantly in strength and popularity. Cities that were afraid to commit -themselves to free-schools while mixed schools were a possibility -commenced building school-houses as soon as separate schools were -assured. In 1870 the late Benjamin H. Hill found his matchless eloquence -unable to carry the suggestion of negro education into popular -tolerance. Ten years later nearly one million black children attended -free-schools, supported by general taxation. Though the whites pay -nineteen-twentieths of the tax, they insist that the blacks shall share -its advantages equally. The schools for each race are opened on the same -day and closed on the same day. Neither is run a single day at the -expense of the other. The negroes are satisfied with the situation. I am -aware that some of the Northern teachers of negro high-schools and -universities will controvert this. Touching their opinion, I have only -to say that it can hardly be considered fair or conservative. Under the -forcing influence of social ostracism, they have reasoned impatiently -and have been helped to conclusions by quick sympathies or resentments. -Driven back upon themselves and hedged in by suspicion or hostility, -their service has become a sort of martyrdom, which has swiftly -stimulated opinion into conviction and conviction into fanaticism. I -read in a late issue of _Zion’s Herald_ a letter from one of these -teachers, who declined, on the conductor’s request, to leave the car in -which she was riding, and which was set apart exclusively for negroes. -The conductor, therefore, presumed she was a quadroon, and stated his -presumption in answer to the inquiry of a young negro man who was with -her. She says of this: - - - “Truly, a glad thrill went through my heart—a thrill of pride. - This great autocrat had pronounced me as not only in sympathy, - but also one in blood, with the truest, tenderest, and noblest - race that dwells on earth.” - - -If this quotation, which is now before me, over the writer’s name, -suggests that she and those of her colleagues who agree with her have -narrowed within their narrowing environment, and acquired artificial -enthusiasm under their unnatural conditions, so that they must be unsafe -as advisers and unfair as witnesses, the sole purpose for which it is -introduced will have been served. This suggestion does not reach all -Northern teachers of negro schools. Some have taken broader counsels, -awakened wider sympathies, and, as a natural result, hold more moderate -views. The influence of the extremer faction is steadily diminishing. -Set apart, as small and curious communities are set here and there in -populous States, stubborn and stiff for a while, but overwhelmed at last -and lost in the mingling currents, these dissenting spots will be ere -long blotted out and forgotten. The educational problem, which is their -special care, has already been settled, and the settlement accepted with -a heartiness that precludes the possibility of its disturbance. From the -stand-point of either race the experiment of distinct but equal schools -for the white and black children of the South has demonstrated its -wisdom, its policy, and its justice, if any experiment ever made plain -its wisdom in the hands of finite man. - -I quote on this subject Gustavus J. Orr, one of the wisest and best of -men, and lately elected, by spontaneous movement, president of the -National Educational Association. He says: “The race question in the -schools is already settled. We give the negroes equal advantages, but -separate schools. This plan meets the reason and satisfies the instinct -of both races. Under it we have spent over five million dollars in -Georgia, and the system grows in strength constantly.” I asked if the -negroes wanted mixed schools. His reply was prompt: “They do not. I have -questioned them carefully on this point, and they make but one reply: -“They want their children in their own schools and under their own -teachers.” I asked what would be the effect of mixed schools. “I could -not maintain the Georgia system one year. Both races would protest -against it. My record as a public-school man is known. I have devoted my -life to the work of education. But I am so sure of the evils that would -come from mixed schools that, even if they were possible, I would see -the whole educational system swept away before I would see them -established. There is an instinct that gathers each race about itself. -It is as strong in the blacks as in the whites, though it has not -asserted itself so strongly. It is making itself manifest, since the -blacks are organizing a social system of their own. It has long -controlled them in their churches, and it is now doing so in their -schools.” - -In churches, as in schools, the separation is perfect. The negroes, in -all denominations in which their membership is an appreciable percentage -of the whole, have their own churches, congregations, pastors, -conferences, bishops, and their own missionaries. There is not the -slightest antagonism between them and the white churches of the same -denomination. On the contrary, there is sympathetic interest and the -utmost friendliness. The separation is recognized as not only -instinctive but wise. There is no disposition to disturb it, and least -of all on the part of the negro. The church is with him the center of -social life, and there he wants to find his own people and no others. -Let me quote just here a few sentences from a speech delivered by a -genuine black negro at the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal -Church (South), in Atlanta, Georgia, in 1880. He is himself a pastor of -the African Methodist Church, and came as a fraternal delegate. This -extract from a speech, largely extempore, is a fair specimen of negro -eloquence, as it is a fair evidence of the feeling of that people toward -their white neighbors. He said: - - - “Mr. Chairman, Bishops, and Brethren in Christ: Let me here - state a circumstance which has just now occurred. When in the - vestry, there we were consulting your committee, among whom is - your illustrious Christian Governor, the Honorable A. H. - Colquitt [applause], feeling an unusual thirst, and expecting in - a few moments to appear before you, thoughtlessly I asked him if - there was water to drink. He, looking about the room, answered, - ‘There is none; I will get you some.’ I insisted not; but - presently it was brought by a brother minister, and handed me by - the Governor. I said: ‘Governor, you must allow me to deny - myself this distinguished favor, as it recalls so vividly the - episode of the warrior king of Israel, when, with parched lips, - he cried from the rocky cave of Adullam, ‘Oh! that one would - give me drink of water of the well of Bethlehem that is at the - gate.’ And when three of his valiant captains broke through the - host of the enemy, and returned to him with the water for which - his soul was longing, regarding it as the water of life, he - would not drink it, but poured it out to the Lord.’ [Applause.] - So may this transcendent emblem of purity and love, from the - hand of your most honored co-laborer and friend of the human - race, ever remain as a memorial unto the Lord of the friendship - existing between the Methodist Episcopal Church South and the - African Methodist Episcopal Church upon this the first exchange - of formal fraternal greeting. [Applause.] - - “In the name of the African Methodist Episcopal Church,—and I - declare the true sentiments of thousands,—I say, that for your - Church and your race we cherish the kindliest feelings that ever - found a lodgment in the human breast. [Applause.] Of this you - need not be told. Let speak your former missionaries among us, - who now hold seats upon this floor, and whose hearts have so - often burned within them as they have seen the word sown by them - in such humble soil burst forth into abundant prosperity. Ask - the hundred thousand of your laymen who still survive the dead, - how we conducted ourselves as tillers of the soil, as servants - about the dwelling, and as common worshipers in the temple of - God! Ask your battle-scarred veterans, who left their all to the - mercy of relentless circumstances, and went, in answer to the - clarion call of the trumpet, to the gigantic and unnatural - strife of the second revolution! Ask them who looked at their - interests at home [great cheering]; who raised their earthworks - upon the field; who buried the young hero so far away from his - home, or returned his ashes to the stricken hearts which hung - breathless upon the hour; who protected their wives and little - ones from the ravages of wild beasts, and the worse ravages of - famine! And the answer is returned from a million heaving - bosoms, as a monument of everlasting remembrance to the - benevolence of the colored race in America. [Immense applause.] - And these are they who greet you to-day, through their chief - organization, the African Methodist Episcopal Church in the - United States of America. [Loud and continued applause.] - - “And now, though the yoke which bound the master and the slave - together in such close and mutual responsibility has been - shivered by the rude shock of war, we find ourselves still - standing by your side as natural allies against an unfriendly - world.” [Applause.] - - -In their social institutions, as in their churches and schools, the -negroes have obeyed their instinct and kept apart from the whites. They -have their own social and benevolent societies, their own military -companies, their own orders of Masons and Odd Fellows. They rally about -these organizations with the greatest enthusiasm and support them with -the greatest liberality. If it were proposed to merge them with white -organizations of the same character, with equal rights guaranteed in -all, the negroes would interpose the stoutest objection. Their tastes, -associations, and inclinations—their instincts—lead them to gather their -race about social centers of its own. I am tempted into trying to -explain here what I have never yet seen a stranger to the South able to -understand. The feeling that, by mutual action, separates whites and -blacks when they are thrown together in social intercourse is not a -repellent influence in the harsh sense of that word. It is centripetal -rather than centrifugal. It is attractive about separate centers rather -than expulsive from a common center. There is no antagonism, for -example, between white and black military companies. On occasions they -parade in the same street, and have none of the feeling that exists -between Orangemen and Catholics. Of course the good sense of each race -and the mutual recognition of the possible dangers of the situation have -much to do with maintaining the good-will between the distinct races. -The fact that in his own church or society the negro has more freedom, -more chance for leadership and for individual development, than he could -have in association with the whites, has more to do with it. But beyond -all this is the fact that, in the segregation of the races, blacks as -well as whites obey a natural instinct, which, always granting that they -get equal justice and equal advantages, they obey without the slightest -ill-nature or without any sense of disgrace. They meet the white people -in all the avenues of business. They work side by side with the white -bricklayer or carpenter in perfect accord and friendliness. When the -trowel or the hammer is laid aside, the laborers part, each going his -own way. Any attempt to carry the comradeship of the day into private -life would be sternly resisted by both parties in interest. - -We have seen that in churches, schools, and social organizations the -whites and blacks are moving along separately but harmoniously, and that -the “assortment of the races,” which has been described as shameful and -unjust, is in most part made by the instinct of each race, and commands -the hearty assent of both. Let us now consider the question of public -carriers. On this point the South has been sharply criticised, and not -always without reason. It is manifestly wrong to make a negro pay as -much for a railroad ticket as a white man pays, and then force him to -accept inferior accommodations. It is equally wrong to force a decent -negro into an indecent car, when there is room for him or for her -elsewhere. Public sentiment in the South has long recognized this, and -has persistently demanded that the railroad managers should provide cars -for the negroes equal in every respect to those set apart for the -whites, and that these cars should be kept clean and orderly. In Georgia -a State law requires all public roads or carriers to provide equal -accommodation for each race, and failure to do so is made a penal -offense. In Tennessee a negro woman lately gained damages by proving -that she had been forced to take inferior accommodation on a train. The -railroads have, with few exceptions, come up to the requirements of the -law. Where they fail, they quickly feel the weight of public opinion, -and shock the sense of public justice. This very discussion, I am bound -to say, will lessen such failures in the future. On four roads, in my -knowledge, even better has been done than the law requires. The car set -apart for the negroes is made exclusive. No whites are permitted to -occupy it. A white man who strays into this car is politely told that it -is reserved for the negroes. He has the information repeated two or -three times, smiles, and retreats. This rule works admirably and will -win general favor. There are a few roads that make no separate provision -for the races, but announce that any passenger can ride on any car. Here -the “assortment” of the races is done away with, and here it is that -most of the outrages of which we hear occur. On these roads the negro -has no place set apart for him. As a rule, he is shy about asserting -himself, and he usually finds himself in the meanest corners of the -train. If he forces himself into the ladies’ car, he is apt to provoke a -collision. It is on just one of these trains where the assortment of the -passengers is left to chance that a respectable negro woman is apt to be -forced to ride in a car crowded with negro convicts. Such a thing would -be impossible where the issue is fairly met, and a car, clean, orderly, -and exclusive, is provided for each race. The case could not be met by -grading the tickets and the accommodations. Such a plan would bring -together in the second or third class car just the element of both races -between whom prejudice runs highest, and from whom the least of tact or -restraint might be expected. On the railroads, as elsewhere, the -solution of the race problem is, equal advantages for the same -money,—equal in comfort, safety, and exclusiveness,—but separate. - -There remains but one thing further to consider—the negro in the -jury-box. It is assumed generally that the negro has no representation -in the courts. This is a false assumption. In the United States courts -he usually makes more than half the jury. As to the State courts, I can -speak particularly as to Georgia. I assume that she does not materially -differ from the other States. In Georgia the law requires that -commissioners shall prepare the jury-list for each county by selection -from the upright, intelligent, and experienced citizens of the county. -This provision was put into the Constitution by the negro convention of -reconstruction days. Under its terms no reasonable man would have -expected to see the list made up of equal percentage of the races. -Indeed, the fewest number of negroes were qualified under the law. -Consequently, but few appeared on the lists. The number, as was to be -expected, is steadily increasing. In Fulton County there are -seventy-four negroes whose names are on the lists, and the -commissioners, I am informed, have about doubled this number for the -present year. These negroes make good jurymen, and are rarely struck by -attorneys, no matter what the client or cause may be. About the worst -that can be charged against the jury system in Georgia is that the -commissioners have made jurors of negroes only when they had qualified -themselves to intelligently discharge a juror’s duties. In few quarters -of the South, however, is the negro unable to get full and exact justice -in the courts, whether the jury be white or black. Immediately after the -war, when there was general alarm and irritation, there may have been -undue severity in sentences and extreme rigor of prosecution. But the -charge that the people of the South have, in their deliberate and later -moments prostituted justice to the oppression of this dependent people, -is as false as it is infamous. There is abundant belief that the very -helplessness of the negro in court has touched the heart and conscience -of many a jury, when the facts should have held them impervious. In the -city in which this is written, a negro, at midnight, on an unfrequented -street, murdered a popular young fellow, over whose grave a monument was -placed by popular subscription. The only witnesses of the killing were -the friends of the murdered boy. Had the murderer been a white man, it -is believed he would have been convicted. He was acquitted by the white -jury, and has since been convicted of a murderous assault on a person of -his own color. Similarly, a young white man, belonging to one of the -leading families of the State, was hanged for the murder of a negro. -Insanity was pleaded in his defense, and so plausibly that it is -believed he would have escaped had his victim been a white man. - -I quote on this point Mr. Benjamin H. Hill, who has been prosecuting -attorney of the Atlanta, Ga., circuit for twelve years. He says: “In -cities and towns the negro gets equal and exact justice before the -courts. It is possible that, in remote counties, where the question is -one of a fight between a white man and a negro, there may be a lingering -prejudice that causes occasional injustice. The judge, however, may be -relied on to correct this. As to negro jurors, I have never known a -negro to allow his lawyer to accept a negro juror. For the State I have -accepted a black juror fifty times, to have him rejected by the opposing -lawyer by order of his negro client. This has incurred so invariably -that I have accepted it as a rule. Irrespective of that, the negro gets -justice in the courts, and the last remaining prejudice against him in -the jury-box has passed away. I convicted a white man for voluntary -manslaughter under peculiar circumstances. A negro met him on the street -and cursed him. The white man ordered him off and started home. The -negro followed him to his house and cursed him until he entered the -door. When he came out, the negro was still waiting. He renewed the -abuse, followed him to his store, and there struck him with his fist. In -the struggle that followed, the negro was shot and killed. The jury -promptly convicted the slayer.” - -So much for the relation between the races in the South, in churches, -schools, social organizations, on the railroad, and in theaters. -Everything is placed on the basis of equal accommodations, but separate. -In the courts the blacks are admitted to the jury-box as they lift -themselves into the limit of qualification. Mistakes have been made and -injustice has been worked here and there. This was to have been -expected, and it has been less than might have been expected. But there -can be no mistake about the progress the South is making in the -equitable adjustment of the relations between the races. Ten years ago -nothing was settled. There were frequent collisions and constant -apprehensions. The whites were suspicious and the blacks were restless. -So simple a thing as a negro taking an hour’s ride on the cars, or going -to see a play, was fraught with possible danger. The larger -affairs—school, church, and court—were held in abeyance. Now all this is -changed. The era of doubt and mistrust is succeeded by the era of -confidence and good-will. The races meet in the exchange of labor in -perfect amity and understanding. Together they carry on the concerns of -the day, knowing little or nothing of the fierce hostility that divides -labor and capital in other sections. When they turn to social life they -separate. Each race obeys its instinct and congregates about its own -centers. At the theater they sit in opposite sections of the same -gallery. On the trains they ride each in his own car. Each worships in -his own church, and educates his children in his schools. Each has his -place and fills it, and is satisfied. Each gets the same accommodation -for the same money. There is no collision. There is no irritation or -suspicion. Nowhere on earth is there kindlier feeling, closer sympathy, -or less friction between two classes of society than between the whites -and blacks of the South to-day. This is due to the fact that in the -adjustment of their relations they have been practical and sensible. -They have wisely recognized what was essential, and have not sought to -change what was unchangeable. They have yielded neither to the fanatic -nor demagogue, refusing to be misled by the one or misused by the other. -While the world has been clamoring over their differences they have been -quietly taking counsel with each other, in the field, the shop, the -street and cabin, and settling things for themselves. That the result -has not astonished the world in the speediness and the facility with -which it has been reached, and the beneficence that has come with it, is -due to the fact that the result has not been freely proclaimed. It has -been a deplorable condition of our politics that the North has been -misinformed as to the true condition of things in the South. Political -greed and passion conjured pestilential mists to becloud what the -lifting smoke of battle left clear. It has exaggerated where there was a -grain of fact, and invented where there was none. It has sought to -establish the most casual occurrences as the settled habit of the -section, and has sprung endless jeremiades from one single disorder, as -Jenkins filled the courts of Christendom with lamentations over his -dissevered ear. These misrepresentations will pass away with the -occasion that provoked them, and when the truth is known it will come -with the force of a revelation to vindicate those who have bespoken for -the South a fair trial, and to confound those who have borne false -witness against her. - -One thing further need be said, in perfect frankness. The South must be -allowed to settle the social relations of the races according to her own -views of what is right and best. There has never been a moment when she -could have submitted to have the social status of her citizens fixed by -an outside power. She accepted the emancipation and the enfranchisement -of her slaves as the legitimate results of war that had been fought to a -conclusion. These once accomplished, nothing more was possible. “Thus -far and no farther,” she said to her neighbors, in no spirit of -defiance, but with quiet determination. In her weakest moments, when her -helpless people were hedged about by the unthinking bayonets of her -conquerors, she gathered them for resistance at this point. Here she -defended everything that a people should hold dear. There was little -proclamation of her purpose. Barely did the whispered word that bespoke -her resolution catch the listening ears of her sons; but for all this -the victorious armies of the North, had they been rallied again from -their homes, could not have enforced and maintained among this disarmed -people the policy indicated in the Civil Rights bill. Had she found -herself unable to defend her social integrity against the arms that were -invincible on the fields where she staked the sovereignty of her States, -her people would have abandoned their homes and betaken themselves into -exile. Now, as then, the South is determined that, come what may, she -must control the social relations of the two races whose lots are cast -within her limits. It is right that she should have this control. The -problem is hers, whether or not of her seeking, and her very existence -depends on its proper solution. Her responsibility is greater, her -knowledge of the case more thorough than that of others can be. The -question touches her at every point; it presses on her from every side; -it commands her constant attention. Every consideration of policy, of -honor, of pride, of common sense impels her to the exactest justice and -the fullest equity. She lacks the ignorance or misapprehension that -might lead others into mistakes; all others lack the appalling -alternative that, all else failing, would force her to use her knowledge -wisely. For these reasons she has reserved to herself the right to -settle the still unsettled element of the race problem, and this right -she can never yield. - -As a matter of course, this implies the clear and unmistakable -domination of the white race in the South. The assertion of that is -simply the assertion of the right of character, intelligence and -property to rule. It is simply saying that the responsible and steadfast -element in the community shall control, rather than the irresponsible -and the migratory. It is the reassertion of the moral power that -overthrew the scandalous reconstruction governments, even though, to the -shame of the Republic be it said, they were supported by the bayonets of -the General Government. Even the race issue is lost at this point. If -the blacks of the South wore white skins, and were leagued together in -the same ignorance and irresponsibility under any other distinctive mark -than their color, they would progress not one step farther toward the -control of affairs. Or if they were transported as they are to Ohio, and -there placed in numerical majority of two to one, they would find the -white minority there asserting and maintaining control, with less -patience, perhaps, than many a Southern State has shown. Everywhere, -with such temporary exceptions as afford demonstration of the rule, -intelligence, character, and property will dominate in spite of -numerical differences. These qualities are lodged with the white race in -the South, and will assuredly remain there for many generations at -least; so that the white race will continue to dominate the colored, -even if the percentages of race increase deduced from the comparison of -a lame census with a perfect one, and the omission of other -considerations, should hold good and the present race majority be -reversed. - -Let no one imagine, from what is here said, that the South is careless -of the opinion or regardless of the counsel of the outside world. On the -contrary, while maintaining firmly a position she believes to be -essential, she appreciates heartily the value of general sympathy and -confidence. With an earnestness that is little less than pathetic she -bespeaks the patience and the impartial judgment of all concerned. -Surely her situation should command this rather than indifference or -antagonism. In poverty and defeat,—with her cities destroyed, her fields -desolated, her labor disorganized, her homes in ruins, her families -scattered, and the ranks of her sons decimated,—in the face of universal -prejudice, fanned by the storm of war into hostility and hatred—under -the shadow of this sorrow and this disadvantage, she turned bravely to -confront a problem that would have taxed to the utmost every resource of -a rich and powerful and victorious people. Every inch of her progress -has been beset with sore difficulties; and if the way is now clearing, -it only reveals more clearly the tremendous import of the work to which -her hands are given. It must be understood that she desires to silence -no criticism, evade no issue, and lessen no responsibility. She -recognizes that the negro is here to stay. She knows that her honor, her -dear name, and her fame, no less than her prosperity, will be measured -by the fulness of the justice she gives and guarantees to this kindly -and dependent race. She knows that every mistake made and every error -fallen into, no matter how innocently, endanger her peace and her -reputation. In this full knowledge she accepts the issue without fear or -evasion. She says, not boldly, but conscious of the honesty and the -wisdom of her convictions: “Leave this problem to my working out. I will -solve it in calmness and deliberation, without passion or prejudice, and -with full regard for the unspeakable equities it holds. Judge me -rigidly, but judge me by my works.” And with the South the matter may be -left—must be left. There it can be left with the fullest confidence that -the honor of the Republic will be maintained, the rights of humanity -guarded, and the problem worked out in such exact justice as the finite -mind can measure or finite agencies administer. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE LITTLE BOY IN THE BALCONY. - - ------- - -MY special amusement in New York is riding on the elevated railway. It -is curious to note how little one can see on the crowded sidewalks of -this city. It is simply a rush of the same people—hurrying this way or -that on the same errands—doing the same shopping or eating at the same -restaurants. It is a kaleidoscope with infinite combinations but the -same effects. You see it to-day, and it is the same as yesterday. -Occasionally in the multitude you hit upon a _genre_ specimen, or an odd -detail, such as a prim little dog that sits upright all day and holds in -its mouth a cup for pennies for its blind master, or an old bookseller -with a grand head and the deliberate motions of a scholar moldering in a -stall—but the general effect is one of sameness and soon tires and -bewilders. - -Once on the elevated road, however, a new world is opened, full of the -most interesting objects. The cars sweep by the upper stories of the -houses, and, running never too swiftly to allow observation, disclose -the secrets of a thousand homes, and bring to view people and things -never dreamed of by the giddy, restless crowd that sends its impatient -murmur from the streets below. In a course of several months’ pretty -steady riding from Twenty-third Street, which is the station for the -Fifth Avenue Hotel, to Rector, which overlooks Wall Street, I have made -many acquaintances along the route—and on reaching the city my first -curiosity is in their behalf. - -One of these is a boy about six years of age—akin in his fragile body -and his serious mien, a youngster that is very precious to one. I first -saw this boy on a little balcony about three feet by four, projecting -from the window of a poverty-stricken fourth floor. He was leaning over -the railing, his white, thoughtful head just clearing the top, holding a -short round stick in his hand. The little fellow made a pathetic -picture, all alone there above the street, so friendless and desolate, -and his pale face came between me and my business many a time that day. -On going up town that evening just as night was falling, I saw him still -at his place, white and patient and silent. Every day afterwards I saw -him there, always with the short stick in his hand. Occasionally he -would walk around the balcony rattling the stick in a solemn manner -against the railing, or poke it across from one corner to another and -sit on it. This was the only playing I ever saw him do, and the stick -was the only plaything he had. But he was never without it. His little -hand always held it, and I pictured him every morning when he awoke from -his joyless sleep, picking up his plaything and going out to his -balcony, as other boys go to play. Or perhaps he slept with it, as -little ones do with dolls and whip-tops. - -I could see that the room beyond the window was bare. I never saw any -one in it. The heat must have been terrible, for it could have had no -ventilation. Once I missed the boy from the balcony, but saw his white -head, moving about slowly in the dusk of the room. Gradually the little -fellow become a burden to me. I found myself continually thinking of -him, and troubled with that remorse that thoughtless people feel even -for suffering for which they are not in the slightest degree -responsible. Not that I ever saw any suffering on his face. It was -patient, thoughtful, serious, but with never a sign of petulance. What -thoughts filled that young head—what contemplation took the place of -what should have been the ineffable upbringing of childish emotion—what -complaint or questioning were living behind that white face—no one could -guess. In an older person the face would have betokened a resignation -that found peace in the hope of things hereafter. In this child, without -hope or estimation, it was sad beyond expression. - -One day as I passed I nodded at him. He made no sign in return. I -repeated the nod on another trip, waving my hand at him—but without -avail. At length, in response to an unusually winning exhortation, his -pale lips trembled into a smile—but a smile that was soberness itself. -Wherever I went that day that smile went with me. Wherever I saw -children playing in the parks, or trotting along with their hands -nestled in strong fingers that guided and protected, I thought of that -tiny watcher in the balcony—joyless, hopeless, friendless—a desolate -mite, hanging between the blue sky and the gladsome streets—lifting his -wistful face now to the peaceful heights of the one, and now looking -with grave wonder on the ceaseless tumult of the other. At length—but -why go any further? Why is it necessary to tell that the boy had no -father, that his mother was bedridden from his birth, and that his -sister pasted labels in a drug-house, and he was thus left to himself -all day? It is sufficient to say that I went to Coney Island yesterday, -and forgot the heat in the sharp saline breezes—watched the bathers and -the children—listened to the crisp, lingering music of the waves as they -sang to the beach—ate a robust lunch on the pier—wandered in and out -among the booths, tents, and hubbub—and that through all these manifold -pleasures, I had a companion that enjoyed them with a gravity that I can -never hope to emulate, but with a soulfulness that was touching—and that -as I came back in the boat, the breezes singing through the cordage, -music floating from the fore-deck, and the sun lighting with its dying -rays the shipping that covered the river, there was sitting in front of -me a very pale but very happy bit of a boy, open-eyed with wonder, but -sober and self-contained, clasping tightly in his little fingers a short -battered stick. And finally that whenever I pass by a certain -overhanging balcony now, I am sure of a smile from an intimate and -esteemed friend who lives there. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - POEMS - - _BY VARIOUS HANDS._ - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - GRADY. - - ------- - - I. - - SUNS rise and set, stars flash and darken: - To-day I stand alone and hearken - Unto this counsel, old and wise: - “As shadows still we flee.” The blossom - May hide the rare fruit in its bosom, - But in the core the canker lies. - - II. - - To-day I stand alone and listen— - While on my cheek the teardrops glisten - And a strange blindness veils my sight, - Unto the story of his dying - And how, in God’s white slumber lying, - His laureled brow is lulled to-night. - - III. - - Dear friends, I would not mock your sorrow - With this poor wreath that ere to-morrow - Shall fade and perish—little worth; - But from the mountains that lament him, - And from these vales whose violets lent him - Their fragrance; from around the earth, - - IV. - - Wherever Love hath her dominion, - Sorrow hath plumed her shadowed pinion - And paid the tribute of her tears; - And here is mine! In pathways lowly - This man, whose dust ye count as holy - Met me, a traveller of the years, - - V. - - And reached his strong right hand—a brother, - Saying: “Mankind should love each other,” - And so I shared and felt his love; - And now my heart its grief expresses - As comes from out lone wildernesses - The sad lamenting of the dove. - - VI. - - Yet while I weep States mourn together - And in the world ’tis rainy weather - And all that bright rain falls for him! - States mourn, and while their voices fame him - The fond lips of the lowly name him, - And little children’s eyes grow dim, - - VII. - - With tender tears, because they love him; - Their hands strew violets above him: - They lisp his dear name in their dreams. - And in their sorrows and afflictions - Old men breathe dying benedictions - Where on his grave the starlight gleams. - - VIII. - - He stood upon the heights, yet never - So high but that his heart forever - Was by the lowliest accent thrilled; - He loved his land and sought to save it, - And in that love he freely gave it - The life Death’s hand hath touched and stilled. - - IX. - - Dear, brave, true heart! You fell as falleth - A star when from far spaces calleth - God’s voice that shakes the trembling spheres; - Fell! Nay! that voice, like softest lyre, - Whispered thee in thy dreams: “Come higher, - Above Earth’s sorrows, hopes and fears.” - - X. - - I shall not see the dead: Thy living, - Dear face, the gentle and forgiving; - The kindly eyes compassionate; - The rare smile of thy lips—each token - I have of thee must be unbroken— - Death shall not leave them desolate? - - XI. - - O, Christmas skies of blue December, - This day of earthly days remember— - He loved you, skies! to him your blue - Was beautiful! O, sunlight gleaming - Like silver on the rivers streaming - Out to the sea; and mountain’s dew - - XII. - - Bespangled—and ye velvet valleys, - Green-bosomed, where the south winds dallies— - He loved you! And ye birds that sing— - Do ye not miss him? Winds that wander, - How can ye pass him, lying yonder, - Now sigh his dirge with folded wing? - - XIII. - - In dearest dust that ever nourished - The violets that o’er it flourished, - He lies, your lover and your friend! - Thy softest beams, sweet sun, will kiss him; - Sweet, silent valleys, ye will miss him, - Your roses, weeping, o’er him bend. - - XIV. - - Good-night—Good-bye! Above our sorrow, - Comrade! thine is a fair “good-morrow,” - In some far, luminous world of light, - Yet, take this farewell—Love’s last token: - We leave thee to thy rest unbroken— - God have thee in his care—Good-night! - - —F. L. STANTON. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ATLANTA. - - ------- - - We weep with Atlanta! - Her loss is the nation’s! - With deep lamentations - Our grief is revealed; - For her hero so youthful, - So radiant and truthful, - Her loyal defender, - Lies dead on the field. - - We weep with Atlanta! - O sore her bereavement! - For he whose achievement - The continent thrilled, - His last word has spoken; - In silence unbroken. - By Death’s cruel mandate, - The proud pulse is stilled. - - We weep with Atlanta! - For woe crowds upon her - When the soldier of honor - Death’s countersign gives. - Keep the grasses above him, - And let those who love him - Proclaim beyond doubting - That the hero still lives. - - JOSEPHINE POLLARD. - -NEW YORK CITY, _Dec. 27, 1889_. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - TRUE-HEARTED friend of all true friendliness! - Brother of all true brotherhoods!—Thy hand - And its late pressure now we understand - Most fully, as it falls thus gestureless, - And Silence lulls thee into sweet excess - Of sleep. Sleep thou content!—Thy loved Southland. - Is swept with tears, as rain in sunshine; and - Through all the frozen North our eyes confess - Like sorrow—seeing still the princely sign - Set on thy lifted brow, and the rapt light - Of the dark, tender, melancholy eyes— - Thrilled with the music of those lips of thine, - And yet the fire thereof that lights the night, - With the white splendor of thy prophecies. - - JAMES WHITCOMBE RILEY. - -In _New York Tribune_, December 23, 1889. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - A REQUIEM. - - _IN MEMORY OF “HIM THAT’S AWA’”._ - - ------- - - BURY him in the sunshine, - Bring forth the rarest flowers - In love to rest above the breast - Of this dead hope of ours! - Let not the strife and pain of life - One ray of joy dispel, - And we’ll bury him in the sunshine, - In the light he loved so well! - - Bury him in the sunshine, - All that of earth remains; - Let every tear that damps his bier - Fall warm as April rains - That bring to light the blossoms bright, - And break the wintry spell. - Thus we’ll bury him in the sunshine, - In the light he loved so well! - - Bury him in the sunshine, - Where softest breezes blow. - His dear face brought no dismal thought, - To those who love him so. - Let cheerful strains and glad refrains - A joyous requiem swell, - While we bury him in the sunshine, - In the light he loved so well! - - Bury him in the sunshine, - While Christmas carols rise - In thankful mirth from smiling earth - To fair sun-litten skies. - Forget the gloom that shrouds the tomb, - And hush the dreary knell, - For we’ll bury him in the sunshine, - In the light he loved so well! - - Bury him in the sunshine; - His peerless soul hath flown - To that fair land upon whose strand - No winds of winter moan. - Sublimer heights, purer delights, - Than mortal tongue can tell; - So, we’ll bury him in God’s sunshine, - In the light he loved so well! - - MONTGOMERY M. FOLSOM. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - HENRY WOODFIN GRADY. - - ------- - - MUST we concede the life so swiftly flown - That seemed but yesterday to breath our own— - The pulsing stayed that through our land he sent, - In whose one impact North and South were blent— - His cords yet vital stilled with tone abounding, - His heart-strings sundered by their vibrant sounding? - - Too well we feel the import of our fears— - The wide-flashed word, “the South is steeped in tears!” - Fitly she weeps for her chivalric son - Who turned to her, in flush of triumph won, - The filial voice to gain her glad applause— - The golden tongue to plead—to gild her cause. - - That spirit note—the music of his speech, - Is silenced now in earthly hearing’s reach; - Snapped is the silvern thread—the resonant soul— - Though severed still its pæans reverberant roll— - All hearts their hope-rung—chants in mourning merge, - All joyous dreams translate into a dirge. - - Fallen in hero prime of conscious power - His fame lives on and soothes her anguished hour, - Yields to the land of Calhoun and of Clay - His name as heirloom to her later day,— - A legacy by life’s oblation left, - A breathing solace to a home bereft. - - That knightly nature’s gift—that intellect’s grace, - Relieved attrition wrought by clash of race, - That reason poised in sympathy supreme, - Revealed translucent pathos in his theme, - Bade clamor cease—taught candor’s part to cure— - Bade truth appear more true, pure thought more pure. - - But is the zenith reached—his record done, - His duty closed beneath meridian sun? - Was it for him like meteor flash to sweep - Athwart the heavens, as vaulting lightnings leap— - On living errand our dimmed orbit cleave— - On mission radiate, yet no message leave? - - Ah, no! his flame rose not to fall anon; - His words as phrase to glitter and be gone; - Not evanescent in the minds of men, - His ling’ring oratory speaks again— - An era’s nuncio in a Nation’s view, - An envoy of another South, and new: - - For now in prescience ’neath his Southern skies - The grander vision greets our Northern eyes; - The proud mirage he conjured up we see— - His picturing of her potency to be, - Her virile wealth of sun and soil and ore, - Her new-born Freedom’s force—far nobler store. - - With sectional lines and warring feuds effaced, - Their racial problems solved—their blots erased— - Full in that vision circumfused shall rise - A symbol that his life-rays crystallize, - For all our state-loves lit in him to stand— - For bonds that Georgia’s Genius lent to all our land. - - HENRY O’MEARA. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - Upon the winds from shores uncharted blown, - That phantom came, stoled in his trailing mists; - He set his cruel gyves upon thy wrists:— - Thine ear was dulled save to his subtle tone:— - He led thee down where fade the paths unknown - In the deep hollows of the Shadow Land: - Love’s tears,—the tendance of her gentle hand,— - Thou didst remember not: her deepest groan - Stayed not thy feet—thine eyes were fixed away - Upon the mountains of some other clime! - Among the noblest, gathered from all time, - In God’s great universe somewhere to-day - He wanders where the cool all-healing trees - Uplift their fronds in fair Champs Elysées. - - HENRY JEROME STOCKARD. - -GRAHAM, N.C. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - WHO WOULD CALL HIM BACK? - - ------- - - A LIFE-WORK finished: yet, hardly begun: - A course in which courage cowardice undone: - A leader of battles whose life’s setting sun - Leaves no cause unwon. - - The scholar and statesman, dear to us all, - As he sleeps his last sleep, though fateful his fall, - Dreams only of peace—to life’s pain past recall— - That, kindred, is all. - - The robe he wore with such marvelous grace, - Will be fitted to shoulders made for his place: - Efforts about which none could selfishness trace - Shall still bless his race. - - Deeds he has done in humanity’s name - Will outlive the marble upreared to his fame: - Yet, would any one ask him, even through pain, - To live life again? - - BELLE EYRE. - -BOSTON, MASS. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - LAMENTED Son of Georgia, - Thou wert New England’s honored guest - In welcome glad, but yesterday, - With charming speech and banquet’s zest. - - In glowing life, so recently, - From Plymouth Rock and Bunker’s Hill, - Thy vision swept the Pilgrim’s sea,— - But now in death thy heart is still. - - And in thine own dear native clime, - Thou art at rest in early tomb, - Where brightest skies expand sublime, - And choicest flowers forever bloom. - - Thy work ere yet at zenith done, - But harvests, o’er thy fertile field, - Are waving in the noonday sun, - Like billows, with abundant yield. - - Now fallen, but more glorious, - In peaceful triumph grander far - Than pageant kings victorious, - With bleeding captives, spoils of war. - - O, ye bereaved, in mourning bowed, - Around Atlanta’s noble dead! - What woe is in your wailing land; - How hallowed is the ground ye tread! - - A joyous home, now desolate, - A circle broken, sad and lone, - A vacant chair in Sable State, - A husband, father, loved one gone. - - A widowed mother, mute with grief, - Whose weeping children call in vain, - Their cries and tears bring no relief, - Thou can’st not meet them here again. - - And yet, beyond this hour of gloom, - Athwart the sky, the promised bow, - Above these clouds, and o’er thy tomb, - The starry heavens are bending low. - - In memory of loving worth, - Sweet thoughts like hidden springs will flow; - Rare flowers in oasis have birth, - As Sorrow’s deserts verdant grow. - - With patriotic, burning zeal, - Thy brilliant genius, tongue and pen, - Were wielded for the common weal, - The good of all thy countrymen. - - O’er ruins of the effete Old, - Thou wrought to build a better New, - Whose peerless glories might unfold, - As North and South together grew. - - Thou longed to note accordant band - Of Sister States through future years, - A Union for the world to stand - With little aid of blood and tears. - - Of such a spirit, He who taught - Eternal Truth in Galilee; - The human and divine in-wrought - With perfect love and charity. - - And so thy deeds will grow in grace, - They are exalted, wise and pure, - For freedom and the human race, - And in our hearts will long endure. - - For thee nor local, fleeting fame, - But for all nations, space and time; - Around thy lofty, shining name, - Unfading laurels we entwine. - - G. W. LYON. - -CEDAR RAPIDS, IOWA, Jan. 18, 1890. - - - - - ---------------------------- - - - - - WHAT THE MASTER MADE. - - ------- - - THE Master made a perfect instrument to sound His praise, - It breathed forth glorious notes for many days,— - Chords of great strength, tones of soft melody, - Grand organ anthems—bird-like minstrelsy; - Its final burst of music—the Master’s master-stroke - Fell on the world—and then the spent strings broke. - - MEL R. COLQUITT. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - IN ATLANTA, CHRISTMAS, 1889. - - ------- - - I. - - O PROUD Gate City of the South, reborn, - Risen, a phœnix, from war’s fiery flood— - Why draped in gloom, this precious natal morn - Of Him crowned martyr for earth’s peace and good? - Set in the faces of your old and young, - Is seen the sorrow, ruthless Fate hath sprung! - - II. - - Your prince lies stark amid the stately towers, - Which he, strong leader in a radiant day, - Had helped to build, when Georgia’s unbound powers - Amazed the world and held majestic sway. - GRADY is gone, like meteor flashing bright - Across the canopy of star-gemmed night! - - III. - - Lift him, with gentleness, and bear him hence! - Keep slow, deliberate pace unto the grave - Which long must be a spot where reverence, - Halting its footsteps, will his laurel wave! - Impulsive youth, in halls of fierce debate, - His counsels heed, his spirit emulate! - - HENRY CLAY LUKENS. - -JERSEY CITY HEIGHTS, N. J. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - IN MEMORY OF HENRY WOODFIN GRADY. - - ------- - - _From the “West Shore” Portland, Oregon._ - - I. - - AMID the wrecks of private fortunes and - The fall of commonwealths, he saw arise - A stricken people, and, with mournful eyes, - Beheld the smoke of war bedim their land, - And in its folds the fragments of a band - Erst bound, as by grim Fate, to exercise - Their judgments in the wrong and sacrifice - Against the measures Providence had planned. - - Unconquered still, he saw the Southern folk, - Though awed and vanquished by the deadly jar - Of war’s deep thunder belching forth, “Ye must!” - In love this Master sought to lift the yoke - Of ignorance from the Southland, and to star - Its night with those same stars trailed in its dust! - - II. - - Unto the North he, as a brother, came, - And in his heart the great warm South he brought, - And as he stood and oped his mouth he wrought - The miracle of setting hearts aflame, - That leaped to crown him orator of fame, - Since in his own emboldened hand he’d caught - The golden chain of love, by many sought, - To bind our Union something more than name. - - But hark! The while his eloquence did charm - The Nation’s ear, the lightnings flashed along - The wires the weeping news, “_He is no more!_” - Brave seer! Thou didst both North and South disarm! - Leap, lightnings, from your wires, the clouds among, - And flash his eulogy the heavens o’er! - - LEE FAIRCHILD. - -SEATTLE, _January 14, 1890_. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - _A SOUTHERN CHRISTMAS DAY_. - - _Paraphrased from Henry W. Grady’s Editorial._ - - ------- - - NO man or woman living now - Shall e’er again behold - A Christmas day so royal clad, - In robes of purpled gold, - As yesterday sank down to rest, - In perfect, rounded triumph in the West. - - A winter day it was—yet shot - With sunshine to the core— - Enchantment’s spell filled all the scene - With power unknown before— - And he who walked abroad could feel - Its subtle mast’ry o’er him softly steal. - - Its beauty prodigal he saw— - He breathed elixir pure— - Twas bliss to strive with reaching hand - Its rapture to secure, - And bathe with open fingers where - The waves of warmth and freshness pulsed the air. - - The hum of bees but underrode - The whistling wings outspread - Of wild geese, flying through the sky, - As Southwardly they sped— - While embered pale, in drowsy grates, - The fires slept lightly, as when life abates. - - And people, marveling, out of doors, - Watched in sweet amaze - The soft winds’ wooing of delight, - Upon this day of days— - Their wooing of the roses fair— - Their kissing lilies, with a lover’s air. - - God’s benediction, with the day, - Slow dropping from the skies, - Came down the waiting earth to bless, - And give it glad surprise— - His smile, its light—a radiant flood, - That upward bore the prayer of gratitude. - - And through and through its stillness all— - And through its beauty too— - To every heart came mute appeal, - To live a life more true— - And every soul invoking then, - With promise—“Peace on earth—good will to men.” - - N.C. THOMPSON. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - IN MEMORY OF HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - SHALL we not mourn for those who pass - Like meteors from the midnight sky, - From out the gleaming heights of fame, - As those who for their country die? - - Who die, and sleep in dreamless slumber, - Where sunbeams like a blessing shed - Their glories, and the rain-drops, falling, - Weep ever o’er our Southern dead. - - Of silvery tongue, and heart of fire, - And grace of manhood, what is left? - A voiceless grief—a tear—a sigh, - A nation of her son bereft. - - Great soul with eloquence o’erflowing, - In rhythmic measures sweet and grand, - Great heart whose mission was a message - Of peace and good will, thro’ the land. - - O tongue of flame by truth inspired! - Tho’ thou art silent, and we never - May hear again thy stirring strains, - They’ll echo in our halls forever. - - Thy life was like a rushing river, - That proudly bore upon its breast - Our highest hopes unto a haven, - Where heroes dwell, and patriots rest. - - Sleep well! tho’ thou art gone, the grave - Holds but the outward earthly shrine, - That held within its clay-cold breast - The sacred spark of life divine. - - Sleep well! immortal, unforgotten, - Where buds and blossoms round thee blow, - And the soft fires of Southern sunsets - In glory gild thy couch below. - - ELIZABETH J. HEREFORD. - -DALLAS, TEXAS. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - IF Death had waited till the grateful Land - He championed with his life had bent and crowned, - With a proud, civic garland of command - That knightly brow, with laurels freshly bound! - Yet he cared not for crowds—this wrestler strong; - If down the arena swept some warm, wild breath - Of his People’s praise—this bore his soul along, - This came with sweetness in the midst of death, - For love was more to him than crown or wreath. - - Ah! half her Sun is stricken from the South, - Since he is dead—her tropic-hearted one,— - Will the pomegranate flower’s vivid mouth - Open to drink the dews when Frost is done? - Will the gay red-bird flash like winged flame, - The mocking-bird awake its thrilling lyre? - Will Spring and Song—will Love ev’n seem the same, - Now he is gone—the spirit whose light and fire - And pulsing sweetness were like Spring to make, - The gray earth young?—will Light and Love awake, - And he still sleep?—and we weep for his sake! - - MARY E. BRYAN. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE OLD AND THE NEW. - - ------- - - NOT to the beauteous maid who weeps - And wails in broken numbers, - Where ’neath the solemn cypress sleeps - The brave in dreamless slumbers. - - Oh, not to her whose pallid cheeks - With form all bent and broken - An utter loss of promise speaks - And perished hopes betoken. - - Ah, not to her!—the sorrowing maid - Who sighs so sad and lowly, - Where our “Lost Cause and Cross” were laid, - Keeping their memories holy. - - Ah, not to her whose sons have passed - To rest in peace sedately, - To glory and the grave at last, - In soldier phalanx stately; - - That sleep beneath the mountain sod - Or by the murmuring rivers, - Beneath the blooming prairie clod - Or where the sea breeze quivers. - - The past is God’s, the future ours, - And o’er our plains and mountains - The young spring comes with thousand flowers - And music in bright fountains. - - Oh, let the bugle and the drum - Pass to the halls of glory, - Where time has made our passions dumb - And fame has told its story. - - But let no High Priest of despair - Wed us to shades of sorrow, - Or bind our younger limbs and fair - In all our bright to-morrow. - - Oh, not for her our younger years - Whose beauty bloomed to perish— - Enough a whole decade of tears, - Sad memories that we cherish. - - But thou, sweet maid, whose gentle wand - Doth bring the May-time blossom— - We kiss thy lips and clasp thy hand - And press thy beauteous bosom. - - Thou who dost teach us to forgive - The red hand of our brother, - And binds us closer while we live - To Country, as a mother. - - Ah, wedded to this Newer South - We’ll find peace, love and glory, - And in some future singer’s mouth - Freedom will boast the story. - - J. M. GIBSON. - -VICKSBURG, _January 14, 1890_. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - _From the “Boston Globe.”_ - - FAIR brow grief-clouded, blue eyes dark with tears, - The young South sighed above her hero’s bier, - “Wear these my favors in the lists of Death,” - And o’er his calm breast scattered immortelles. - What Launcelot of old in jousts and field - Did bravely for the right with pen and voice, - With mind broad-reaching and with soul intense, - Did this young champion wisely for the truth. - From the loud echoes of rude, hideous war - He caught the murmur of a far-off peace; - Through the fierce hatred of embittered foes - He saw the faint day-star of amity; - O’er the ruin of the things that were - Beheld the shadowy Angel of new life, - And, chosen from the whirl of troublous days, - With soul knit up in valor, mind aflame, - Stood forth the knight and prophet of good will, - Of peace with dignity, of manhood’s strength - Sustaining brother’s love, of industry - That keeps an equal pace with building thought, - Of old things gracious yielding place to new. - And from the mists, responsive to his call, - Came forth in radiance, virgin-robed, - The starry maiden of sweet hope, and smiled— - Put forth her willing palm to meet his own, - And walked with him the valleys of Re-birth, - And where they passed the earth grew musical, - And long-hushed voices from the caves of Doubt - Swelled into melody of joyous faith; - While from the forests of the North swept down - The pæan of the Pines, and from the South - The murmur of the Everglades up stole - The diapason perfecting. Stark fields - That fever had burned out revived; and marts - Where brooded weird decay, and mills at rest, - The forge in blackness rusting, and the shop, - The school, the church, the forum, and the stage - Thrust off their desolation and despair - To feel again the energy of life - And know once more the happiness of man. - - Such was his doing who was brave for truth; - Such is the legacy he leaves to pride; - And, though the New South mourn her fallen knight, - His soul and word move ever hand in hand - Adown the smiling valleys of Re-birth, - That still shall bud and flower because of him - And grow fair garlands for man’s Brotherhood. - - E. A. B. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - AT GRADY’S GRAVE. - - ------- - - “WE live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breadths; - In feelings, not in figures on a dial; - We should count time by heart-throbs; he most lives - Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best”— - The Poet, dreaming in divinest mood, - Scanning the future with a Prophet’s eyes, - Beheld the outlines of the Perfect Man - Take shape before the vision of his soul; - And though the beauteous phantom could not stay, - He caught its grace and glory in the song - Wherein he praises the Ideal Man - Of whom he dreamed, and whom the world should know, - When in the teeming womb of Time the years - Had ripened him, mature in every part. - - While yet the world, expectant of this man, - Watched, mutely wondering when and whence would come - This radiant one, this full-bloom, fairest flower - Of manhood’s excellence, which Heaven itself - Were fain to keep, to crown the angels with— - God granting unto Earth but one or two - Within the cycle of a century— - Lo! suddenly, from out the realm of Dreams, - The splendid Vision of the musing bard, - His perfect and ideal Man, came forth, - And walked within the common light of day, - A living, breathing Presence—Henry Grady! - - Did not this marvelously gifted man, - Who trod with us the old, familiar paths, - And glorified them daily with strange light, - As if a god were dwelling in our midst, - Measure, full-length, the stature of the man - The Poet quarried from the mines of Thought? - What though his years were brief, did he not fill - Their precious brevity with glorious deeds, - Till he outlived the utmost lives of men - Of lesser mold, of feebler fibred souls? - Garnering betwixt his cradle and his grave - The ripened harvests of a century! - Did he not live in thoughts as flowers live - In sunshine, filling the whole world with light, - And the celestial fragrance of his soul! - Did he not live in feelings so refined, - That every heart-string into music woke, - Though touched more lightly than a mother’s mouth - Would touch the sleep-sealed eyelids of her babe! - Ah, were the throbs of his great, loving heart, - Meet as a measure for _his_ span of life? - Would not such measure circle all the world, - And find no end, save in infinity? - If he lives most—(and who shall dare deny - A truth which is as true as God is true?) - If he doth live the most who thinks the most, - Who feels the noblest, and who acts the best, - Thou, O my friend! didst to the utmost mete - Of transitory mortal life live out - Thine earthly span, though to our eyes thy life - Seems like the flashing of a falling star, - Which for a moment fills the heavens with light, - And vanishes forever. - - Nay, not so— - The Poet’s words are thy best epitaph! - And though the stone which marks thy grave but tells - The number of the years thy mortal frame - Retained that eagle-wingèd soul of thine, - How long thy all-compassionating heart - Inhabited its clayey tenement, - As one of God’s blest almoners, sent down - To fill the world with light and melody; - Tells when that prophet-tongue of thine was stilled, - Which, touched with inspiration’s sacred fire, - Preached Man’s eternal brotherhood, and led - The battle waged for Justice, Truth, and Right, - Still, and despite the tears that Sorrow woos - From the spontaneous fountains of our hearts, - We know that thou didst come unto thy grave - Brimful of years, if noble deeds and thoughts, - If love to God and Man, be made alone - The measure of thy length of human years; - And that, even as thy soul beyond the stars - Shall live—as God lives—everlastingly, - So shall the memory of thy shining deeds, - Remain forever in the hearts of men; - Nor shall the record of thy fame be touched - By Time’s defacing hand—thou art immortal! - - And now, dear friend, farewell to thee! Thine eyes - Have death’s inviolate seal upon their lids; - They cannot see the Season’s glorious shows, - Although, methinks, in memory of thee - The grass grows greener here, and tenderer - The daily benediction of the sun - Falls on thy grave, as if thy very dust - Had sentience still, and, kindling into life - Under the fiery touchings of the sun, - Broke through the turfy barriers of the tomb - To mingle with the light, and mellow it; - There’s not a flower that timidly uplifts - Its smiling face, to look upon the Dawn, - Or bows its head to worship silently - The awful glory of the midnight stars, - But what takes on a gentler grace for thee, - And for thy sake a sweeter incense flings - From out its golden censer. - - Nor, my friend, - Will thy dull ears awaken to the songs, - Of jubilant birds, the Summer’s full-voiced choir, - Singing thy praises—for they sing of Love, - And Love was the high choral of thy life, - The swan-song of thy soul; thou canst not hear - The sweetest sounds—made sweeter for thy sake - By the presiding Genius of this place— - The silvery minor-music of the rain, - Those murmurous drops, with iterations soft, - Of every flower, and trembling blade of grass, - A fairy’s cymbal make; the whispering wind, - The sea-like moaning of the distant pines, - The sound of wandering streams, or, sweeter still, - The voice of happy children at their play— - Ah, none of these interminable tones - Of Nature’s many-chorded instrument, - Which make the music of the outward world, - As thou didst make its inner harmony, - Out of the finer love-chords of thy heart, - Shall ever move thee; but a mightier charm - Shall often woo thee from thy heavenly home, - To shed upon thy place of sculpture - The splendor of a Presence from the skies; - For thou shalt see a fairer sight than all - The panoramas of the Seasons bring, - And hear far sweeter music than the sound - Of murmuring waters, or the melody - Of birds that warble in their happy nests: - Yea, thou shalt see how little children come - To deck thy grave with daisies, wet with tears; - See homeless Want slow hither wend his way, - To bless the ashes of “the poor man’s friend,” - And from the scant dole of his wretchedness, - Despite his hunger, lay a liberal gift - Upon thy grave, in token of his love; - And in the pride and glory of her state, - Sceptred and crowned, the Spirit of the South, - Whose Heart, and Soul, and living Voice thou wert, - Will come with Youth and Manhood by her side, - To draw fresh inspirations from thy dust, - And consecrate her children with thy fame, - Till they have learned the lessons of thy life, - And glorify her, too, with noble deeds; - Thou shalt behold here, coming from all lands, - The men who honor Love and Loyalty, - Who glory in the strength of those who scale - The mountain-summits of Humanity, - And from their star-encircled peaks proclaim - The Fatherhood of the Eternal God, - The Brotherhood of Man—both being one - In holy bonds of justice, truth, and love— - Christ’s “Peace on Earth and good-will unto Men”— - That old evangel, preached anew by thee, - Till the persuasion of thy golden tongue - Quickened and moved the world with mighty love, - As if a god had come to earth again! - - CHARLES W. HUBNER. - -ATLANTA, GA. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - MEMORIAL MEETINGS. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE ATLANTA MEMORIAL MEETING. - - ------- - - _From the “Constitution,” December 21._ - -THE overflowing hearts of a sorrowing people found expression in words -yesterday. - -Memorial services to the memory of the dead Grady were held in DeGive’s -Opera House, and for three hours eulogies were pronounced on his name. - -Loving lips and dewy eyes told the sorrow of a bereaved people gathered -to pay the last public tribute to their departed friend. - -The service began at 11 o’clock, and continued until 2. - -At half-past ten the various escorts assembled at the Chamber of -Commerce. There they formed and marched to the Opera House in a body. -General Clement A. Evans, D.D., and Rev. Dr. J. W. Lee, D.D., headed the -procession. Following them were the speakers of the occasion, -pallbearers, honorary escort and members of the Chi Phi Fraternity, -headed by Mayor John T. Glenn. - -At the Opera House the delegations were ranged on the stage. They were -Dr. J. B. Hawthorne, Dr. H. C. Morrison, Dr. N.C. Barnett, General -Clement A. Evans, Judge W. R. Hammond, Judge W. T. Newman, Mayor John T. -Glenn, Hon. John Temple Graves, Prof. H. C. White, of Athens; Hon. -Patrick Walsh, of Augusta; Julius L. Brown, W. A. Hemphill, Dr. J. W. -Lee, Charles S. Northen, Louis Gholstin, T. L. Meador, B. B. Crew, -Donald Bain, Hon. N. J. Hammond, Captain J. W. English, Governor Gordon, -John C. Calhoun, of New York; Judge Howard Van Epps, Patrick Calhoun, -Albert H. Cox, W. R. Joyner, C. A. Collier, John Colvin, Porter King, -Captain Everett, S. M. Inman, Professor Bass, Major Jno. A. Fitten, -Captain R. I. Lowry, L. J. Hill, W. H. Thompson, J. A. Wright, H. C. -White, W. P. Hill, Arnold Broyles, and other members of the Chi Phi; W. -J. Garrett, W. W. Boyd, W. L. Calhoun, Hon. T. H. Mustin, of Madison; R. -D. Spalding, M. C. Kiser, J. J. Griffin, J. R. Wyly, H. B. Tompkins, L. -B. Nelson, Charles Keith, Judge George Hillyer, Gus Long, Dr. Crawford, -J. G. Oglesby, J. J. Spalding, John J. Falvey, Clark Howell, Jr., F. M. -O’Bryan, C. A. Fouche, of Rome, and others. - -The Opera House, inside and out, was draped in sable and white, and on -the stage, forming a fragrant background, was a mass of beautiful -flowers and floral pieces. In the center of the group was the lovely -offering of the dead man’s associates and employés, standing out from a -setting of palms and roses. To the right of this central piece was the -crown from the people of Boston, and to the left the tribute from the -Virginia Society. - -To the front and at each side of the stage was a life-size crayon -portrait of Mr. Grady, heavily draped, and resting on a gilded easel. -Round the base of the easel were flowers and plants of delicate foliage, -perfuming the air with their fragrant breath, and seeming to send sweet -messages to the loved face above. - -The galleries and boxes were all hung in mourning. - -General CLEMENT A. EVANS opened the service with prayer, full of words -of sweetness and comfort, and of grateful thanks for the good already -accomplished by the one that is gone, even in so short a sojourn on the -earth. General Evans prayed calmly and simply, concluding with the -invocation of God’s blessing to those left behind, and an inspiration to -those who were to speak of the departed soul. - -Mayor GLENN, who presided over the service, then arose and announced the -order of exercises. He said he was too sick of heart to attempt to offer -a tribute to the memory of his dead friend, and contented himself with a -few simple words of preface. - - * * * * * - -Judge W. R. HAMMOND was introduced, and read the following tribute of -the Chi Phi Fraternity, of which Mr. Grady was one of the charter -members at the State University: - - - THE CHI PHI MEMORIAL. - -The following memorial and resolutions were prepared by a committee -appointed by a number of members of the Chi Phi Fraternity, who -assembled in Atlanta upon the announcement of the death of Henry W. -Grady, who was a member of that Fraternity, and were read by Judge W. R. -Hammond: - - - It is sad beyond the power of expression to be compelled to-day, - and from this time henceforth, to speak of Henry W. Grady as - dead. But it is with the profoundest pleasure that we take - occasion to give utterance to our appreciation of his virtues, - and bear testimony to those high qualities in him that marked - him in many respects, not only as one of the leading men of his - State and section, but as one of the foremost men of his times. - - It is peculiarly appropriate that his club-mates of the Chi Phi - Fraternity should perpetuate his memory, because he was one of - its charter members at the State University, and always gave to - it a place of unusual warmth in his affections, ever - manifesting, in his attachment to its principles and to its - members, that freshness of enthusiastic ardor which so - strikingly characterized him in his college days. How well do we - remember him—those of us who were accustomed to be with him in - those days—as, with buoyant tread and sparkling eye and merry - smile, he went out and came in amongst us, ever bearing in his - frank, generous, hearty manner, the cheeriest good will to all, - and the unmistakable evidence of malice and ill-will toward - none. Easily and quickly did he win the hearts of all his club - and college-mates, and it was their delight to do him honor - whenever occasion permitted. - - As it was then among the boys, so it was afterwards among men. - He wore his heart upon his sleeve, and gave it to all without - reserve. In some this characteristic would have been weakness, - but in him it was a chief element of strength because of the - very fact that he possessed it in such a marked and striking - degree. Even those who were his enemies were won to him when - they came into his presence, and had their dislikes charmed away - by the magnetism of his manner and his open and unreserved - frankness. - - Henry Grady had eminent characteristics which made him great, - and it is proper and right that we should place upon record our - estimate of them, and cannot but be highly beneficial to us to - thoughtfully consider some of them. - - His mind was exceedingly subtle, and his perceptible powers - unusually and remarkably keen. He comprehended at a glance, and - discriminated as if by intuition. It was this, doubtless, that - gave him that wonderful expressiveness of speech which so - completely captivated all who ever heard him. He saw - clearly—therefore he had power to make others see. - - We all have within us at times vague and inexpressible thoughts, - and we feel a desire for some one who can interpret them for us, - and give utterance and expression to that which we cannot even - put into the form of a suggestion. We feel the need of a Daniel - who can tell us the dream, and then give us the interpretation - of it. Who that has listened to the magic of Grady’s speech, or - gathered the subtle thought from his well-chosen words, has not - found in them the expression of that which seemed to lie - slumbering in his own bosom, only to be awakened by the touch of - his master hand! Such is the service which genius renders to - humanity, and such did he render for us with a power that was - almost matchless and unapproachable. - - But, superb as were his mental gifts, it was not this alone, or - even chiefly, that made him great and gave him power such as few - ever possessed to attract men to him. There have been those who - equaled if they did not surpass him here, but who yet have - failed to impress themselves upon humanity with a tithe of the - force exerted by him. It was his great heart that endeared him - to us all and made us love him and rejoice in his success, with - a feeling that knew no jealousy, and ever prompted us to bid him - God-speed in his onward and upward career to the high destiny - which seemed to await him. - - True love is unmistakable in its manifestations. He who really - and truly loves his fellows need not fear that they will fail to - find it out. It will manifest itself, not in the arts and wiles - of the demagogue, but in a thousand ways which need not be - premeditated, and cannot be misjudged or misunderstood. - - Grady loved humanity, and love with him was not weak - sentimentality, but strong, over-mastering passion. He loved - humanity, not in the abstract, but in the person of those - members of it who came within reach of him. And this love to - them was not a mere sentiment, but a real passion, to which he - gave expression in his never-tiring acts of devotion and his - ceaseless efforts to aid them in every way and by every means - that lay in his power. It was thus that he grappled his friends - to him with hoops of steel and held them in a grasp which - nothing could loosen. - - It was Grady’s strong emotional nature that gave wings to his - words and carried them so deep into the hearts of his fellow - men. Thought must have feeling back of it before it can have - power to stir men’s blood and move them to action. The twain - must be married together as one, and from their union springs a - light and power which are potent factors in the redemption of - humanity. In Grady they were united, and hence his words burnt - their way into the souls of men. The magnificence of his - thoughts, and the untold wealth of feeling which sprang from his - great heart, were not to be resisted, and easily won and held - the admiration and homage of his fellow men. - - But the deep pathos of Grady’s heart, so often stirred into - those grand utterances which made him famous, seems now to - have been but the prophecy of the far deeper pathos of his - untimely death. Oh how sad it was to see him lying there upon - his bier mute and motionless, when but yesterday the nation - hung upon his words, and men of all sections and political - parties delighted to do him honor. Oh how strong in our - breasts is the wish that he might have lived, not only for - himself, his family and friends, but also for the sake of his - country, and especially his beloved Southland, just beginning - to feel the disenthrallment from her bonds, and to realize - that one had arisen who seemed to have the power to place her - before the Nation and the world in her rightful position, and - claim for her that sympathy and forbearance which she so much - needs in the solution of the great problem which has been - thrust upon her. - - But he is gone, and we can only mourn his loss, and indulge the - hope that the good he has done may live after him, and that even - the sad bereavement of his death may do much to help seal the - truth of his last public utterance upon the hearts of the people - of this great country, and ultimately bring them together as one - in a union of fraternal fellowship and love. - - _Resolved_, That in the death of our brother, Henry W. Grady, - our Fraternity has lost one of its most honored and devoted - members. - - _Resolved_, That we tender to his bereaved family our sincere - and heartfelt sympathy. - - _Resolved_, That a copy of this memorial and resolutions be sent - to his family. - - _Resolved_, That the city papers be requested to publish these - proceedings, and that a copy be sent to the national organ of - the Chi Phi Fraternity. - - - J. W. LEE, } - J. T. WHITE, } - B. H. HILL, } - ANDREW CALHOUN, } _Committee_. - W. H. HILL, } - JACK M. SLATON, } - W. R. HAMMOND, } - -Hon. Patrick Walsh was introduced by Mayor Glenn, and said: - - - ADDRESS OF HON. PATRICK WALSH. - - - Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Fellow-Citizens: We are here to pay a - tribute to the worth and greatness of the departed—to him who - did so much for the prosperity of the great and goodly city of - Atlanta; to him who did so much for Georgia and the South, and - to him who did so much for the restoration of peace and good - will among the people of all sections of our common country. - - The most gifted and useful public man of his day has passed away - in the person of Henry W. Grady. I will refer briefly to him as - an editor before he electrified the country, and won plaudits - from his countrymen by the magic of his winsome eloquence. - - I met him for the first time about twenty years ago at a meeting - of the Georgia Press Association in the city of Augusta. - Although he had not reached his majority, he was the proprietor - and editor of the Rome _Commercial_, which was his first - newspaper venture. He was then a striking and manly youth, and - gave promise of a career of prominence and usefulness in the - field of journalism. He moved from Rome to Atlanta and was - engaged for a few years in editing the _Herald_, one of the - brightest and most enterprising newspapers in the State. He - acquired reputation as a correspondent during the period of - reconstruction, and subsequently represented one of the leading - journals of the North as its special representative in Florida - during the memorable campaign of 1876, when the returning board - of that State negatived the will of the people. Mr. Grady gave - the country graphic and truthful pictures of the evils which the - South endured. He strikingly depicted the wrongs imposed upon - our people and exposed the usurpation of those placed in - authority by the aid of the general Government. During that sad - period of the South’s eventful history, he rendered signal - service to the people, and the principles which he advocated, - with a steadfast devotion and an exalted patriotism. - - His reputation as a journalist is identified with the growth and - prosperity of that great newspaper, in the upbuilding of which - he took such a conspicuous part. The _Constitution_ stands as a - monument to his ability as an editor. His versatility as a - writer was something phenomenal. There was no subject within the - range of the press that he did not discuss with a grace and - facility that were captivating and with a clearness and vigor - that were convincing. His imagination glowed with luminous - thoughts which were clothed in the diction of polished rhetoric. - Without disparagement to the living or the dead, he won the - first place in the ranks of Southern journalists. - - I speak of Mr. Grady as an editor. Others will speak of him as - an orator. Oratory was a natural gift with him. It was born in - him. Where others struggle to win success, he, by reason of his - genius, reached the mountain top, and from this great eminence - spoke to the ear of the Nation and captured the hearts of the - people. He achieved greatness by reason of his vigorous - mentality, and his fame as an editor and as an orator is voiced - by the sentiments of admiring but sorrowing friends in all - sections of the Union. He has been stricken before his time. - Already the first of his generation, if his life had been spared - his opportunity for greatness would have broadened and given him - in “the applause of listening senates” a field for the exercise - of those great gifts with which he was so richly endowed. He - died too soon for his people and for his country. But his name - and his fame will be an example and an inspiration to practice - and perpetuate the principles of government in the advocacy of - which he yielded up his life. - - “With charity for all and malice toward none,” he went about - among his countrymen doing good. It was his mission to help the - poor and to aid the deserving. Every good work received the - support of his impulsive heart and noble soul. His last speech - was an impassioned and eloquent plea for a peaceful solution of - that great problem which the South and the South alone can - solve. It was not to oppress, but to elevate the colored man—to - enable both races to live in peace, and work out their mission - in the regeneration of the South. What he so eloquently said in - Boston represents the firm conviction of his Southern - countrymen, and his death but emphasizes the truth and force of - his position. The South is free and the intelligence and courage - of her people will preserve her and her institutions for all - time from hostile and inferior domination. - - The South mourns the untimely death of Georgia’s brilliant son. - The North deeply sympathizes with us in the death of him whose - last public utterance so feelingly touched the patriotic heart - of the people, and the response comes back from all sections of - a re-united people and a restored Union. Few men have - accomplished so much for the unification of public sentiment on - questions of grave import, and there is no one who has - accomplished more for the material development of his beloved - South. He is dead, but his works will live after him. His name - is enshrined in the hearts of his grateful countrymen, who are - saddened and bowed down with unspeakable sorrow. - - Henry W. Grady had the zeal of a martyr and valor of a patriot. - If it be permitted to mortals who have put on immortality to - look upon this world from their celestial home, the incense of - praise which ascends from our stricken hearts will be grateful - to the soul of Henry Grady. God has set his seal upon his silver - tongue, and no more forever will his eloquent voice, stimulating - his fellow-countrymen to deeds of noble enterprise, be heard on - earth. Matchless the fertility of his mind, matchless the magic - and power of his presentation, matchless his power of - organization, matchless his power of accomplishment. Truly, - indeed, can it be said of him, there is no man left to fill his - place. - - May his golden soul rest in the bosom of the God that gave it, - is the humble but heartfelt prayer of one who admired and - respected him living, and who mourns and reveres him dead. - - - ADDRESS OF HON. B. H. HILL. - - - I cannot speak in studied phrase of my dead friend. The few - simple words I can trust my faltering lips to utter will come - from a heart burdened with grief too deep for language to - express. A grief whose crushing weight, outside of my own home - circle, has taken away from life its brightest hopes and its - highest inspiration. - - In the summer of 1866 I first met Henry Grady, even then giving - promise of marvelous gifts of mind and heart. From that summer - evening, remembered now as though it were but yesterday, I have - loved him with all a brother’s devotion and tenderness. During - all these years there has been no shadow on our friendship and - no secrets in our hearts. In prosperity he has rejoiced with me, - and when sorrow and trouble came no voice was as cheering, no - sympathy was as sweet as his. Only a year ago, when death came - into my home and took the one little blossom that had bloomed in - my heart as my own, he wrote to my mother words of tenderest - comfort for her and of love for me—words that are inexpressibly - precious to me now. Out of my life into the beautiful beyond - have passed the two friends I loved best on earth—the chivalrous - Gordon, the peerless Grady. God keep my friends and lead them - gently through the meadow-lands where the river flows in song - eternal. I know that near its crystal banks, where the birds - sing sweetest and flowers bloom brightest, they have clasped - hands in blessed and happy reunion. The love with which Henry - Grady inspired his friends has never been surpassed by mortal - man. Beautiful and touching have been the expressions of - devotion that have come to his family. I believe that there are - hundreds all over this State who would gladly take his place in - yonder silent tomb, if by so doing they could restore him to the - people who loved him and who need him so greatly. It is not his - great genius, unrivaled as it was; not his fervent patriotism, - unselfish as it was; not his wonderful eloquence, matchless as - it was; not his public spirit, willing as it was—these are not - the recollections that have moved the people as they have never - been moved before. - - But it was the great heart of the man beating in loving sympathy - with suffering, touching with sweetest encouragement the lowly - and struggling, carrying the sunshine of his own radiant life - into so many unhappy lives, that now bow down the hearts of the - people under the weight of a personal loss. - - Henry Grady lived in an atmosphere of love. In him there was - greatness—greatness unselfish—unconscious—gentle as the heart of - a child. In him there was charity—charity white and still as the - moonlight that shines into the shadows of night. In him there - was heroism—the heroism of the knight that drew no sword, but - waved in his hand, high above his white plumed brow, the sacred - wand of peace, of love, of fraternity. In him there was - patriotism, but a patriotism as pure and steadfast as a flame - burning as a passion for the people he loved. As I contemplate - this life through the years that I have known him so well, I - feel as one who has seen the sun rise in the cloudless spring - time, warming into beauty all the flowers of the earth, and - winning into praise all the songsters of the air, at noonday, - when all earth was rejoicing in its light and growing in its - strength, suddenly fade away, leaving the land in darkness. - Henry Grady was the great sun of the Southland, under whose - fervid eloquence the cold heart of the North was melting into - patience, confidence, justice, sympathy and love. It is no - exaggeration to say that he was the great hope of the country. - - The eyes of the South were looking toward him with hope. The - ears of the North were listening to him with faith. Inscrutable, - indeed, are the ways of a Providence that demanded a life so - richly endowed, so potential for good. And yet it is the finite - mind that would question either the mercy or wisdom of the - Infinite. Our hero could not have died at a time when he was - dearer to his people. His last brave, eloquent message will find - its way, has found its way, to the hearts and consciences of his - countrymen. His death is a sacrificial offering from whose altar - rises even now the incense of perpetual peace and a perfect - union of brotherly love. The lessons of his life will ripen with - the passing years. Ages yet to come will compass the fullness of - his fame and time will consecrate the patriotic martyrdom of his - death. He sang like one inspired with the sacred memories of the - past and the glorious hopes of the future. His works and his - noble qualities will expand and multiply from his tomb as the - sweet spice rushes from the broken alabaster vase. His name will - become the synonym for friendship, charity, wisdom, eloquence, - patriotism and love, wherever these virtues are known and - treasured among men. - - To use his own beautiful words, written of another: “Those who - loved him best will find him always present. They will see him - enthroned in every heart that kindles with sympathy to others. - They will feel his kindly presence in the throb of every hand - that clasps their hands in the universal kinship of grief. They - will see his loving memory beaming from every eye as it falls on - theirs.” So he shall live in Georgians and with Georgians - forever and forever. On the monument which loving hands will - erect to his memory let the inscription be written: “At all - times and everywhere he gave his strength to the weak—his - sympathy to the suffering—his life to his country and his heart - to God.” Our hearts go out to-day in tenderest sympathy to the - loved ones at home. Those alone who have had the privilege of - entering the charmed circle can know the void left there. - - To the mother who idolized this noble son—and he never forgot - her, for did he not turn aside from questions of state to tell - the Nation that her knees were the truest altar he had ever - found, and her hands the fairest and strongest that had ever led - him; to the sweet and loving sister, the companion of his - boyhood; to the heart-broken wife always worthy of his love, - devoted to him, ever dear to him; to the sweet and gentle - daughter, the idol of his heart and household; to the noble and - manly son—these were his jewels. And as we loved him so shall we - love them. I have seen a picture with a shaft of light reaching - from earth to heaven. Up the long, white rays, dazzling in glory - and transcendent in beauty, an immortal soul is ascending to the - illumined heights—ascending to meet its God. I think that if - there ever was a soul borne upward upon rays of glory it was the - beautiful soul of this friend we loved. The golden beams of this - earthly glory shining into the pure light of heaven wove his - radiant pathway to the stars. What an ascension for an immortal - soul! Earth’s glory under his feet; Heaven’s glory upon his - brow. So he, our immortal, becomes God’s immortal. Oh, thou - bright, immortal spirit! Thou standeth this day in the presence - of the angels. The King, in his beauty, hath greeted thee with - the welcome: Well done, well done good and faithful servant; the - great and good that have passed from earth are thy companions, - and thy ears have heard music sweeter far than all earthly - plaudits. Yet we miss thee; we mourn thee; through the rifted - heavens we greet thee with grateful tears and undying love. - - - MR. JULIUS L. BROWN’S SPEECH. - - - Again we are assembled in the house of mourning. Our homes and - public buildings are yet black with the symbols of our grief for - him who went before. - - “One woe doth tread upon another’s heel, so fast they follow.” - - Two short weeks ago, while we were assembled in our capital - covered with the insignia of grief, to do honor to the memory of - one who had been our chief when the storm of war raged, we - received a telegram, mingling his grief with ours, from him, - then on his journey of duty to Boston, whose sad death we have - met this day to mourn. - - Jefferson Davis and Henry Grady are dead. To-day their souls - commune, and we are left to weep. In their deaths the South has - lost two of her noblest sons. One was gathered to his fathers - full of years and rich in honor. He had served his country well. - He had been the chosen leader of our people, when the storms of - war were raging. He, as our representative, had been subjected - to insults and to indignities by the Government he had honored, - and in whose service he had spent the best years of his life. He - passed away, and the sunset of his life was glorious and - beautiful. - - We have not yet put aside the sables of grief we wear for - Jefferson Davis, and yet in two short weeks we have met to mourn - the death of him whom we hold dearer; our townsman, our daily - associate and friend. - - Henry W. Grady has gone to his last home. - - One was an old man, ready and waiting to be called. His day was - over, his work was done, and he was waiting for his rest. His - sun had risen, past its meridian in glory and was sinking in - honor. For him the night in due time had come. The other, was a - young man, full of hope and rich in promise. His sun had just - arisen and it gave promise that before him was yet a glorious - day. - - One was the chosen representative of our people before the - storms of war had swept over us. He was the representative of - the South under its old system. The other was the acknowledged - exponent of the South under its altered condition of affairs. - - We weep for him to-day. - - Of all the young men in America none had such power for good. - None had the ear of the public so completely as he to be heard. - None had so eloquent a tongue to produce conviction. None had so - magnetic a bearing to induce followers. He was ambitious, yes, - but for what? Not for the spoils of office, not for command of - his fellow-man, not for himself, but for his people. Years ago - when his friends all over Georgia urged him to allow his name to - be presented for a post of honor in the counsels of the Nation - he refused. His letter of declination was so strong, so - patriotic, and so unselfish that it commanded the admiration of - the world. I know that even far-off New Zealand published his - words and did him honor. His eloquent speech in New York - completed the structure of his national fame. From the night of - its delivery the whole country ranked him among its foremost - citizens. Even in down-trodden and oppressed Cuba his eloquent - words were translated into the Spanish tongue and read with - delight while I was there. The echoes of his last eloquent, - matchless defense of the South yet linger in Faneuil Hall, and - so long as its historic walls shall stand they will be classed - with the best efforts of Everett and of Webster. His friends all - over the country read his words, and wondered that he was so - great. Ambitious; yes, ambitious to be able to present the cause - of the South in such a manner as to produce conviction in the - minds and in the hearts of its most ultra defamers, that our - people now in good faith accept as final the construction placed - upon the Constitution of this country by the victors, and that - they are as absolutely loyal and devoted, as are the people of - the North, to that Union against which his father had fought. - - With no apologies for the past; with no recantation of the - belief that they were patriots, without in any way casting - reproach upon our dead, with a nature grand enough to admire - Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis, he had taken for his high - mission on this earth, the task of reconciling the people of the - sections. Until this great mission was accomplished, he had no - time to devote to the narrow duties of a public office. Office, - therefore, he did not seek. Office he would not have. There was - but one office in this land great enough for him. Had he lived - until his sun had reached its meridian splendor there would have - been a complete reconciliation between the sections. Partisan - malignity would not have sought to enact laws aimed at only a - part of this grand country. Soon would there have been a - complete union of hearts between those who had been engaged in - fratricidal strife, which the most ultra partisanship could not - have severed. Too young himself to be in the war, but the son of - a gallant Confederate soldier, killed upon the field of battle, - he, more than any one of older years, could by his chosen - profession bear the messages of peace to the North, and by his - mighty pen, by his eloquent tongue, by his melodious voice, and - by his commanding presence could he procure a hearing from an - audience of strangers and produce conviction. If it be true - that, - - - The tongues of dying men - Enforce attention like deep harmony, - - - then his last words, uttered in behalf of his people, will not - have been spoken in vain. - - In his death the South has lost its most eloquent advocate and - its most powerful defender. America weeps for one of her noblest - sons. Who is there to finish this work? God grant that there may - rise some one to complete his mission! - - He was a man full of impulse and a quick reader of the popular - mind. Well do we all remember the time when the result of a - presidential election became certainly known, how his heart, - wild with joy at what he believed to be the beginning of better - days for the South, organized a street procession and proceeded - to the legislative halls of this State, and with his followers - entered the house, and in his clear, ringing voice announced, - “Mr. Speaker: A message from the American people,” and adjourned - it. ’Tis said that history shows that there have been but two - men who have ever adjourned a parliament without a vote, Oliver - Cromwell and Henry Grady. One was an act of tyranny—the other - the expression of the desire of every member of the house. - - A citizen of Atlanta, he loved Georgia; a Georgian, he adored - the South; a Southerner, he worshipped the whole Union. He was - an American in the fullest sense of that term. There was no work - of public or private charity among us which he did not aid by - his tongue, his pen, his head or his purse, whether that work - was to procure the pardon of an abandoned young girl confined in - the chain-gang with criminals, or canvassing the streets of - Atlanta through snow and ice, accompanied with a retinue of - wagons and drays, to accumulate fuel and provisions to prevent - our poor from freezing and from starving. It was in response to - his appeals, more than to all else combined, that a home is now - being erected within sight of the dome of yonder capitol for the - aged and infirm veterans of the Lost Cause. It was to him more - than to all others that our Piedmont Expositions, designed to - show to the world the wealth of our undeveloped mineral, - agricultural and other resources, were carried to a successful - end. It was through his persuasive power that the Chautauqua - Association, designed to more thoroughly educate our people, was - established. - - But in the limited time allotted to me, I cannot go into further - details. If you seek his monuments, look around. They are in - every home and every calling of life. In all that which has - tended to develop the material resources of the country, to - enrich his people, to encourage education and a love of the - arts, to relieve suffering, to provide for the poor, and to make - our people better and nobler, he devoted his life, unselfishly - and without hope of other reward than the approval of his - conscience. - - He was a model citizen. As a member of society, he was welcomed - to every fireside. He was the center of every group. His doors - were open always to strangers. He was given to hospitality. He - was the life, the soul of every enterprise with which he was - connected. As a patriot, his heart was bowed down with grief - that his countrymen should be estranged. As a humanitarian, his - great heart wept at the suffering of the poor, and his voice was - ever raised in behalf of the afflicted and oppressed. As a - friend, he was devoted, unselfish and loyal. Now, that he is - gone, we know how dear he was to us. We have awakened to the - full appreciation of his great worth, and of the calamity which - has befallen us. - - Yesterday we stood by his tomb. No private citizen in this - country ever had such a pageant. For miles the streets were - lined with people. We saw the aged and the young, the rich and - the poor, the white and the black, with eyes dimmed by tears, - with hearts bowed down with sorrow at loss of him. They had left - their homes upon our greatest festal day to pay him the homage - of their tears. To each of them his loss was a personal sorrow. - - I knew Henry W. Grady well, and I loved him. To me his death is - a personal grief. He had been my friend for more than - twenty-three years. Well do I remember the day I joined his - class in our University. Well do I picture his friendly presence - as he bade me welcome and invited me to his home. Well do I - recall our meeting in our college societies. Our plans, our - struggles, our defeats and our triumphs there. Since that time, - I have sat with him around social boards. He has been time and - again an honored and a welcomed guest in my house. I shall miss - him there. We have been together in public enterprises, we have - met in the busy marts of men. We have worked side by side, and - we have differed upon questions of policy, but in all these - differences he has been my friend. I loved him, and deplore his - death. - - We shall erect in this city a monument to commemorate his many - virtues, and to hold him up as an example before the young and - those who come after us; but however exalted that monument may - be, and however near the skys it may reach, the greatest and - best monument to us who knew him will be the memory of his many - virtues which we shall always treasure in our hearts. - - - Sink, thou of nobler light. - The land will mourn thee in its darkening hour; - Its heavens grow gray at thy retiring power; - Thou stirring orb of mind, thou beacon power, - Be thy great memory still a guardian might, - When thou art gone from sight. - - - Judge Emory Speer was on the list of speakers to follow Mr. - Brown, but did not reach the city in time to take part in the - exercises. - - - SPEECH OF HON. ALBERT COX. - - - Twenty-three years ago, poor and painfully uncertain of even a - broken part of education, but shortly from farm and camp and - captivity, broken-hearted and distrusting all things, lonesome - in a strange place, two companions met me at Athens and made me - feel at home. One of them mourns to-day with me the death of the - other. - - I look across the many years as across a wide and misty river - made up of many streams, and recall the sunny face, the glowing - eye, the engaging smile, the warm hand formed; it seemed to - assure a friend of love with its very clasp—the happy-hearted, - the happy-making Henry Grady. - - Treasured by his companions are traditions that his generous - hands were helpful even then. It is known that his appeal to the - “Great Old Commoner” kept a child of the State to the breast of - its own Alma Mater. It is known that he led the relief corps of - kindness to the aid of maimed veterans shivering in bitter - winter at the old rock college. To suggest such deeds seemed - natural to his heart, and to do them nobly seemed inherent to - his hand. - - His was the versatile genius of our class. Never fenced in to - his text-books, apparently careless of mere curriculum, he - roamed the fields of literature more than he tramped the - turnpike of studies. Sparkling and popular, genial and beloved, - his mind moved like a stream of poetry, cascading and flashing, - banked in sweet flowers, and singing to sweet meadows made happy - by its song. - - His address as final orator of his society, fairly represents - the mind of the man when launched. It was an exquisite fiction - of ideal life. He painted in words an island of beauty; in the - sweetness of his sentences the fragrance of flowers sweeter than - nature’s own seemed to be wafted to rapt listeners; the - loveliness of his creation stood out so vividly to the eye of - intellect that no one view of any grace in statuary or beauty in - picture of any artist would be remembered better. It was an - island worthy to lay in the same sea with Tennyson’s Island of - Avilion, where Knight and King Arthur was to rest his soul, and - I would wish the soul of my class-mate the sweet and eternal - rest of his own happy island, embowered in the beauties of his - own sweet fancies forever, did I not believe that he has touched - the pearl-strewn shore of a better and lovelier land than even - this, or even that of which he dreamed; that he “rests in the - balm-breathing gardens of God!” - - Who would dream that such ideality of mind would be composed - with such powers of business as he had? It is wonderful that the - versatile course of his life, while adding to his breadth, did - not lessen his depth. To but few, indeed, is it endowed to be - both versatile and profound. His varied experience, like - tributes, added to the brightness and to the breadth, and to the - depth of his intellect, until before touching the sea it rolled - in majestic splendor, wide and clear as the Potomac, deep and - burden-bearing as the Ohio. He had great opportunities. He - worked and won them. Starting without them, he created them by - deserving them. That great journal, through whose columns he and - his associates have done so much to rebuild the fortunes and - hopes of our people, did not make Henry Grady. The Lord made - him. But his bereaved associates there did all that men can do - in the moulding of other men. They recognized him for what he - was and for what he could become. They participated in the - glorious work, They surrendered him, and he surrendered himself - to his country. The first duty of the Southern patriot—a - national duty also—was to recuperate this section. In that duty, - no man out of office, perhaps no man at all, has labored with - more credit and with better result than Henry W. Grady. For the - complete reconciliation of the sections of this Union every - patriot ought to strive and every Christian ought to pray. - Sectional jealousies and angers are the only enemies of the - Union, and those who claim to place the preservation of the - Union above all other duties, ought to be the foremost - forwarders of the fraternity of the American people. They who - love the Union should help to heal its wounds. - - Strange spectacle! Noble culmination of a noble life! From the - midst of those charged with hate toward the Union, Henry W. - Grady went forth a minister to plead for love to all its parts. - - “Blessed is the peacemaker.” - - His voice was for that peace in our country made perpetual by - justice to all and respect for the sacred things of earth. His - voice was for building an American temple of peace, not upon the - quicksands of comparative power, subject to the shift from one - section to the other, but upon the everlasting foundations of - right to all, respect to all, liberties and liberality to all! - - Oh, what a cause he had! If successful, unfolded glories of the - Union of future times; the sweet and swelling harmonies of the - ever-increasing choir of free and happy States; the grand ideals - of the venerable fathers all realized, and every bloom of - American hope fruited in happiness, in love, in liberty, in - enduring peace! - - And if unsuccessful! If he and those to come must plead in vain - for the unity as well as union of the country, then the dread - doubt whether all peace is to be only preparation for deadly - grapplings; the dread doubt whether, as in England and Scotland, - these feuds are to harry our homes and our hearts for hundreds - of years! - - What a cause! and, thank God, what an advocate! It would seem - that our own Southern sun had warmed and sweetened him for the - work. He exactly fitted the culmination and mission of his life. - His noble soul propelled his thoughts. His eloquence rushed from - mountain-side fountains, pure and bold and free. His reasoning - was so blended with appeal that the one took the shape of - stating truths in sequence, and his appeal seemed responsive to - the heart-beats of his listeners. - - Thus the cause, the advocate and the occasion met, and once more - in New England a Southern man was applauded as an American - patriot. With the triple levers of his great soul and mind and - tongue he moved two mighty sections, with all their weights of - passions of victory and passions of defeat, with all their - weights of misconceptions and misjudgments. With his hands he - moved these mighty bodies nearer each to the heart of the - other—nearer to that true Union for which the real heart of this - country, in every part of it, beats with the pulses of a devoted - love, never entirely to be stilled. - - Oh, how nobly he must have been inspired as he felt the - “rock-ribbed and iron-bound” prejudice of New England quiver to - the touch of his magic hand; and as her snow began to melt under - the warmth of his great heart, surely he was the sunshine of - this great land! - - But, oh, the grief of it—the bitter, bitter grief of it! Just as - we knew how noble and great he was, he sank below the horizon of - life, never to rise again! - - I shall always recall him as dying like that lad from Lombardy, - pictured by Browning. I shall think that the South, decked like - a queen in all her jewels of glory and of love, came to his - dying couch and said: - - - “Thou art a Lombard, my brother! Happy art thou,” she cried, - And smiled like Italy on him. He dreamed in her face and died! - - - ADDRESS OF WALTER B. HILL, OF MACON, GA. - - - Love was the law of Henry Grady’s life. His splendid eminence - among his fellows teaches once again that “he who follows love’s - behest far exceedeth all the rest.” Its strongest throbs beat in - the inner circle of the home; but in widening waves they expand - first into friendship, then into public spirit, then into - patriotism, then into philanthropy. When it rises above these - forms of human affection in the incense of worship—we give it - once more the sacred name of love, which it bore at its fireside - shrine. From Henry Grady’s heart, that first and best and truest - and most of all was the home-fond heart, there flowed out in all - the prodigality of his generous soul, and yet with the perfect - adjustment of due degree, all those currents of feeling which - bear so many names and yet are one. And as he loved, so is he - mourned—from the hearth of a desolated home to the borders of a - mighty nation. - - What was he to his friends? I dare not answer except to muffle - my own heart in borrowed words—the words of Carlyle over the - bier of the gifted Edward Irving—“His was the bravest, freest, - brotherliest human soul mine ever came in contact with.” - - What was he to Atlanta? More than any other man, he built this - city which he rightly loved as he loved no other. Although the - feudal independence of the old Southern life was distinctly - promotive of individualism—yet it was reserved for this young - leader—but one remove from that past generation, to give to our - common country the finest and most conspicuous type which - American citizenship has yet produced of that high civil - virtue—public spirit. It is a virtue untaught in the schools—a - grace and a duty not preached from the pulpit: and yet, as I - study its manifestations in this marvelous man whose suggestion - and sagacity planted the cornucopias of plenty amid industrial - desolation and agricultural poverty—to me it seems far more in - touch with the brotherhood of man and the helpfulness of Christ - than the benevolence which so often degrades the recipient and - the zeal which burns so fiercely for the conversion of opinions. - If the Church does not claim it as the fruit of religion, the - State may be proud to own it as the patriotism of peace. - - What was he to Georgia? We naturally think of the material - progress which he inspired throughout the State, and all due - emphasis has been accorded to it. But we must not forget the - other forms of progress to which he was devoted. What a - many-sided man he was! He spent himself to the utmost of his - wonderful resources in behalf of the intellectual culture of the - State—in the earnest but sweet-spirited championship of that - moral issue which he declared was “the most hopeful experiment - ever undertaken in any American city,” in that magnificent - tribute to the value of her young men, which Atlanta has “writ - large” in the stately Association Building. And thus he, whose - pen seemed like the touch of Midas turning to the gold of - material wealth every interest to which it pointed, he teaches - also that imperative lesson of our needy time—that to know and - to be are greater things than to get and to have. - - What was he to the South? Let the laureate answer: - - - The voice of any people is the sword— - The sword that guards them or the sword that beats them down. - - - More than any other public man, he was the voice of his people. - His eloquence in magnetic speech, and that new art his genius - had created—the oratory of the editorial!—along with the voices - in literature of Joel Chandler Harris, Thomas Nelson Page and - Harry Stillwell Edwards, have conquered a hearing at the North. - In glowing utterance and moving story, they have set forth the - true and tender pictures of the old Southern life, the sincere - and single-hearted heroism of the Confederate soldier, the - cordial but self-respecting loyalty of the South of to-day to - the restored Union. They have brought it to pass that in the - contemporary fiction of English-speaking peoples the favorite - scene is amid the old plantations, and the popular hero is the - boy that wore the gray. By these subtle forces of genius, - results have been achieved which no forensic advocacy or party - zeal could ever have accomplished. Old verdicts of condemnation - and prejudice have been reversed; and in their stead, - comprehension has come, patience is coming, confidence will - come. - - For the sole but sufficient reason that the whole truth demands - it, I ought to say, that from what seemed to me some of the - implications of his public utterances I had urged upon him my - own dissent; and his letter in reply, permitting me to differ - without a discount in his sincere esteem, is now, more than - ever, one of the treasures of my life. - - His work for his people could not have been so adequately done - had office crowned his worth. His advocacy would then have - seemed professional and political. Public station would have put - limitations on him—would have narrowed his audience. A rare - lesson of his life is here—a lesson needed especially among us - whose habit has been to associate official distinction too - exclusively with public service. The people are greater than - Senate or Congress. The official in Washington can speak only to - his party. But the audiences which Grady and his generous - eulogist, Depew, commands show that a man uncrowned with public - office can be great in public life, and perhaps thereby do a - greater work. - - What was he to the Nation? Compelled by the limitations of the - hour to answer in one word, I choose this: He it was who first - taught the rising generation of the South to bind the name of - Lincoln with that of Washington “as a sign upon their hand and a - frontlet on their brow.” - - We stand face to face with a great mystery. It is the tragedy of - early death, like that of Arthur Henry Hallam, which wrung from - the sweetest singer of our time the noblest poem of sorrow, a - poem whose pages have been for three days past luminous to me - with new and richer meaning. Accepting the evidence of - consciousness in its report of the hopes and aspirations of the - human soul, there can be but two rational hypotheses for this - mystery of an unfinished life. One has been phrased by Renan in - words like this: “There is at the heart of the universe, an - infinite fiend who has filled the hearts of his creatures with - delusions, in order that in awful mockery he may witness the - discomfiture of their despair.” The other theory has been - phrased by Martineau in words like these: “The universe, which - includes and folds us round, is the life-dwelling of an eternal - mind and an infinite love; and every aspiration is but a - prophecy of the reality in that overarching scene where one - incompleteness is rounded out in the greatness of God.” I need - not tell you which of these faiths Henry Grady accepted, or I - accept. I envy not the man who can think that there are in this - universe any shadows dark enough to quench his sunny spirit. I - believe (turning to his picture, on the stage) oh friend of - mine! that I shall look again into that love-lit eye—that I - shall clasp once more thy generous hand! - - A poet sings of the echoes of the bugle from cliff and scar as - contrasted with the impact of human influence: - - - Oh, love, _they_ die on your rich sky, - _They_ faint on hill and field and river; - _Our_ echoes roll from soul to soul - And grow forever and forever! - - - In all gratitude we can say that we are happier because he - lived; in all humility that we are better because his life - touched ours. And because this is true our children and our - fellow men shall be made happier and better; and so the echoes - of his soul, reduplicated in ten thousand hearts, shall abide, a - gladdening and beneficent force— - - - Until the stars grow old, - And the suns grow cold, - And the leaves of the judgment book unfold! - - - SPEECH OF JUDGE HOWARD VAN EPPS. - - - Ladies and Gentlemen: The lightning brought this message to - Atlanta: - - “Henry Grady spends Christmas in heaven.” - - Who doubts it? What creature whom the Creator has loved enough - to suffer him to hold a Christian’s faith will question that he - is at this moment in company with the good and great and - virtuous who have preceded him? I looked upon his face, the - pitifulness of death sealed upon it, and as I turned away with - swimming eyes, I saw hidden in a mass of flowers that loving - hands had placed by his side, these words: - - - O, stainless gentleman! - True man, true hero, true philanthropist! - Thy name was “Great Heart,” honor was thy shield, - Thy golden motto, “Duty without fear!” - - - And the fragrant breath around him seemed vocal with triumphant - voices, singing, “Reward without stint!” In Athens, the home of - his boyhood, a few months ago, he said, “I am going to - Sunday-school. I want to feel that I am a boy again.” When - seated there the children sang, “Shall we gather at the river?” - and he sank his face in both his hands, and tears flooded - through his fingers. O, “Great Heart,” we know that when your - eyes closed upon the weariness of the terrestrial, they opened - fearless upon the glories of the celestial. I fancy Mr. Hill - sought him without delay, fixing upon him the earnest, - penetrating glance we know so well, but out of which the pained - seriousness has been washed away forever, exclaiming, “Why, - Henry! You? And so soon! Welcome home to our Father’s house!” - Judge Lochrane has doubtless already repaired to his side and - regaled him with a bit of celestial humor that set the seraphs - ashout with laughter. Perhaps he has encountered by this time - Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Davis with arms interlocked, their - differences all adjusted, in wider wisdom, and has been startled - to hear them say: “We were but just now speaking of you and of - the future destiny of the American Republic. Mr. Lincoln had - just remarked that the United States were on the threshold of a - more cordial understanding and a closer union than ever before, - and Mr. Davis has just quoted your prophetic invocation: ‘Let us - resolve to crown the miracles of the past with the spectacle of - a Republic compact, united, indissoluble in the bonds of - love—loving from the Lakes to the Gulf—the wounds of war healed - in every heart as on every hill—serene and resplendent at the - summit of human achievement and earthly glory—blazing out the - path, and making clear the way, up which all the nations of the - earth must come in God’s appointed time!’” - - Oh, that he who alone knew how to describe “a perfect - Christmas day,” could come back to his beloved Atlanta and - make it all clear to us—the recognitions, the employments, the - conversations, the blessedness of the redeemed. What sort of - goblet of immortal nectar—of commingled “musk of yellow grain, - of flavor of ripening fruits, fragrance of strawberries, - exquisite odor of violets, aroma of all seasons” of the - celestial year, did the angels brew out of the material of - yesterday to pledge the never-ending fellowships of Heaven in? - What sort of hug of odorous shine did Henry get armsful of - yesterday, when he flung his hands wide apart in the presence - of that Being whom he was wont to call always in his reverent - speech “the Lord God Almighty.” - - Oh, well enough for Henry! but for us only the pain of it all, - the bitter pain. I look abroad and Atlanta’s business men seem - grown suddenly older. The cry of the newsboys—“Paper, sir?”—is - almost a sob. I went late at night into the _Constitution_ - building and the editors’ faces were graver than they should be, - and the composing-room was heavy with suggestions of widowhood - and orphanage. - - I went into a store Christmas eve (for Henry would not have the - children neglected) and the merchant couldn’t find anything he - sought for, and said, apologetically, “I haven’t had any sense - to-day.” The pity of it! We are bereft. Our city is desolate. We - had some great public enterprises in view, that is, Henry had, - and we were going to follow him, and overwork him, as usual. - - We are disheartened—almost discouraged. Atlanta is so young and - fiery, almost fierce in her civic energy, and pulls so hard on - the reins. Who will drive for us now? - - We will see more clearly after a little, when our grief is - calmer, but now as we see it through our tears, the face and - body of the times are out of joint. - - I do not care, in this place and under present limitations, to - speak of his kittenish boyhood; of his idyllic home-life; of his - rollicsome and irresistible humor; of his sympathy and - prodigality of self-sacrifice; of his boundless love to his - fellow men; of his ability as a writer and super-eminence as an - orator; of his pride in Atlanta and services in aid of her - material progress; of his patriotic devotion to the South and to - the Union. I want to ask indulgence to say one thing, which, as - I believe, were he here to prescribe my course and dictate my - utterances, he would have me say. I want to say to noble men of - all parties, north and east and west, speaking here from Grady’s - bier, that the South is no more hostile to the Union than is New - England, and that her love, and sympathy, and desire to help the - dependent class in her midst is deeper, if possible, than the - treason of political agitators who seek to foment race prejudice - to secure party supremacy. “We pledge our lives, our property, - and our sacred honor,” that we will bring wisdom and humanity to - the solution of the grave problem in government which confronts - us, and that we “will carry in honor and peace to the end.” We - repeat again and again, in our sadness, with the sacredness of - our grief for his loss around us, the plea of Georgia’s son, for - patience, for confidence, for sympathy, for loyalty to the - Republic, devoid of suspicion and estrangement, against any - section. - - We send greeting to generous New England. They loved him and we - love them for it. We have even forgiven them for being - Republicans. We throw his knightly and Christian gauntlet at - their feet. We challenge her business men, in the name of our - champion of the doctrine of the brotherhood of men and of - Americans, to the national glory-fields of the future—to - fraternal love that will forgive errors of judgment seven times, - and seventy times seven; and to a patriotic pride in and - devotion to every foot of the soil of our magnificent Republic, - that will brook no suspicions and no wrath in all her borders - except when directed against a foreign enemy. - - * * * * * - - Professor White’s address was delivered under very trying - conditions. He had been suffering from a severe headache all - morning and, in fact, he has been unwell for several days past. - During his speech he suffered painfully, and immediately at its - conclusion he was so much overcome as to be almost completely - prostrated. He was led from the stage to the office of Judge - Will Haight, where he remained until he recovered, leaving for - home later in the afternoon. - - The address was delivered with pathos and emotion, and that part - which bore on his close relations with the dead man touched a - responsive chord in every heart in the vast audience that sat in - listening attention to the words of love. - - - REMARKS OF PROF. H. C. WHITE. - - - My friends—companions in a common grief: My heart is yet too - full of sorrow’s bitterness to frame in fitting terms the - tribute I would wish to pay the gracious memory of our beloved - dead. Save she who bears my name, he whom we buried yesterday - was my dearest friend on earth. Our friendship, born of close - companionship amid academic groves where we together caught the - inspirations that come to wakening intellects, and nursed the - high resolves that budding youth projects as guides along the - future pathway of the man, was nourished as we grew to man’s - estate, and in these latter years so closely knit by constant - intercourse, reciprocal respect each for the other’s judgment, - wishes and desires, and mutual confidences of hopes and fears, - of sacred interests and fond ambitions, that when he died a - great and fervent glow seemed gone from out of my life, and - desolation laid its icy touch upon my heart. - - In recognition of these sacred ties that closely bound our - lives, I am bidden here to-day to join my grief to yours and say - a word of him who was as dear to me as man may be to man. - - How can I speak at Henry Grady’s funeral! What may I say that - others have not said; that will not, in our history, be written; - for a Nation mourns him and a continent deplores his untimely - taking off, as the passing of the brightest hope that cheered - the future of our common country’s rehabilitated life. - - That he was worthy all the homage cultured men may pay to - genius, talent, intellect, and wit, his works and reputation - that survive beyond the grave will abundantly attest. That he - was worthy all the plaudits honest men accord to truth and - justness, integrity and honor, none dare stand here and - interpose the faintest shadow of a doubt. That he was worthy all - the sacred tears that gentle women and blessed little children - may not refrain from showering on his grave as tribute to his - tenderness, his gentleness, his abounding love for all things - human, we, who knew him best, who shared the golden flood of - sunshine his personality evoked and the sweetest, softest - harmonies of the music of his life, we come, a cloud of - witnesses, to testify. - - He was truly great if earthly greatness may be measured by the - lofty aspirations men conceive for bettering their fellow men’s - estate, or by the success with which they realize ideals. His - ambition was of the sort that makes men kings—not petty - officers—and led him to aim to teach a mighty Nation how best - its glorious destiny might be achieved. His ample view looked - far beyond the narrow policies of strife and selfishness and - partisan contentions that mark the statesmanship of lesser men, - and counseled the broader, more effective lines of peace and - love, of patience and forbearance. Had he but lived who may - doubt but that his counsels would have prevailed? This city, - which he loved so well and which he builded, stands, in its fair - proportions, the peer of any on the earth in good and equitable - government, the prosperous home of happy, cultured freemen, as a - type of what he wished his neighbors and his fellow-countrymen - might strive to make themselves in contrast with their fellow - men; worthy to stand among the bravest and the best. Its massive - walls stand witness to his energy, his skill and his success. - - He was wise, and thousands came to him for counsel. The - University—his loved and loving Alma Mater—whose smiles had - brightened the endeavors of his youth, called him to her - councils in his maturer years, and to-day she sits upon her - classic hills, a Niobe, in tears and clad in mourning for - him—chiefest among her brilliant sons; foremost among her - guardians and advisers. - - He was good; and for all the thousand chords of human emotions - he played upon with facile pen and tongue of matchless - eloquence, he ever held a heart in tender sympathy with - childhood’s innocence, the mother’s love, the lover’s passion, - the maiden’s modesty, the sinner’s penitence and the Christian’s - faith. - - One consolation comes to us, his sorrowing friends to-day. - Around his bier no fierce contentions wage unseemly strife for - offices left vacant by his death. He held no place that may be - filled by gift of man. He filled no office within the power of - governments or peoples to bestow. He served the public but was - no public servant. He was a private citizen and occupied a - unique position in the commonwealth, exalted beyond the meed of - patronage, won by virtue of his individual qualities and held at - pleasure of his genius and by the grace of God. - - Full well I know that, in God’s providence, no one man’s death - may halt the march of time to ultimate events or change the - increasing purpose that through the ages runs, but this I do - believe, that this man’s death has slowed the dial of our - country’s progress to full fruition of its happiness, - prosperity, and peace. To those of us who stand in history - midway between a national life our fathers founded and wrecked - in throes of revolution and of war, and another in the future, - bright with fair promises but ill-defined as yet in form, with - darkling clouds casting grim shadows across the lines along - which it must be achieved, he was our chosen leader and our - trusted champion. No one of us will be tardy in acknowledgment - that he stood head and shoulders above us all and towered at the - very front. That time will bring a successor in the leadership - we reverently pray and confidently hope, but meanwhile our - generation is camped in bivouac by the path of history awaiting - the birth and training of another chief. - - Of all his usefulness to nation, state and town; of all that he - contributed to the glory of our country’s history—the brave - defense of its unsullied past; the wise direction of its present - purposes; the high ideals of its future progress—of these, - others with equal knowledge, may speak with greater eloquence - than I. I come especially to pay a simple tribute (time and - occasion serve for nothing more) to the man himself—my - boyhood’s, manhood’s companion, friend and lover. When on the - day he died I nursed my selfish grief within the sacred - precincts of a home which he had often beautified and rendered - joyous by his presence; in the city of his birth, among the - lanes his boyish feet had trod; amid scenes where his genius had - first been plumed to flight; where he had felt the first touch - of manhood’s aspirations and ambitions; where he had pressed his - maiden suit of sacred love; where his dead hero-father lay at - rest, and where the monumental shaft is reared to the base of - which it was his ardent hope that he might bring his son to - anoint him with the glories and the graces of a hero race—I - thought no other’s sorrow could be as keen as mine. But lo! my - neighbors shared an universal grief and draped their homes with - sable tokens of their mourning hearts; the very children in the - streets stopped in their Christmas play and spoke in whispers as - in the presence of a dread calamity; and here, I find myself but - one among a multitude to whom that great and noble heart had - given of its gracious bounty and drawn them to himself by bonds - of everlasting love that caused their tears to flow as freely as - my own, in tribute to the sweetness, gentleness, magnetic - joyousness of him that we have lost. - - He was the very embodiment of love. A loving man; a man most - lovable. Affection for his fellows welled from out his heart and - overwhelmed in copious flood all brought within its touch. His - love inspired counter-love in men of all degree. The aged marked - his coming with a brightening smile; the young fell down and - worshiped him. Unselfishness, the chiefest virtue men may - claim—it carries all the others in its train—was possessed by - him in unsurpassed degree. His generosity passed quick and far - beyond the lines marked out by charity and overflowed the limits - fixed by prudence. In fine, the gentler graces all were his: - - - His gentleness, his tenderness, his fair courtesy, - Were like a ring of virtues ’bout him set, - And God-like charity the center where all met. - - - Science and religion alike declare that force is indestructible. - Some catch from one and some the other the inspiration that - gives them faith and blessed hope that that great thing we call - the Soul may live and work beyond that accident which we call - Death, which comes with all the terrors of unfathomable mystery - to free the fretting spirit from its carnal chains. - - He had no special knowledge—nor cared for none—of scientific - theory or philosophic speculation, but he had gained from deep - religious thought—not technical theology perhaps, but true - religion, the same that taught him to “visit the widows and - fatherless in their affliction and to keep himself unspotted - from the world”—he had gained from this a deep, abiding - conviction in a life beyond the grave. That this was true I - know; for often we have talked of these great mysteries and, - closeted together, have weighed the doubts the increasing - knowledge of the centuries has brought, and I have never known a - man whose convictions were as firm, and who, frankly and - squarely meeting every doubt, retained unshaken faith with all - his heart, soul and mind. - - - He held it truth with him who sings, - To one clear harp in divers tones, - That men _must_ rise on stepping-stones - Of their dead selves to higher things. - - - How far this faith held him in loyalty to churchly creed—the - necessary corollary of such faith as his—others are more - competent than I to tell. - - Great Spirit—that which was loose but yesterday from mortal - tenement we sadly laid to rest—thy sorrowing friends send after - thee, along the shimmering lines that guide thy flight from - earth to glory, this fervent prayer—tempering our agony and - comforting our desolation—that God, in His infinite wisdom, may - count thy faith deserving such reward in Heaven as we would - measure to thy works on earth. - - God rest thee, princely gentlemen! God keep thee, peerless - friend! - - -When Mr. Graves was introduced, the audience broke into applause. His -fame as an orator, and his intimate friendship with Mr. Grady were -known, and his eloquent tribute to his dead friend moved the hearts of -his hearers as they had seldom by words been moved before. Upon being -introduced by Mayor Glenn, Mr. Graves said: - - - SPEECH OF HON. JOHN TEMPLE GRAVES. - - - I am one among the thousands who loved him, and I stand with the - millions who lament his death. - - I loved him in the promise of his glowing youth, when, across my - boyish vision he walked with winning grace, from easy effort to - success. I loved him in the flush of splendid manhood when a - Nation hung upon his words—and now, with the dross of human - friendship smitten in my soul—I love him best of all as he lies - yonder under the December skies, with face as tranquil and with - smile as sweet as patrial ever wore. - - In this sweet and solemn hour all the rare and kindly adjectives - that blossomed in the shining pathway of his pen, seem to have - come from every quarter of the continent to lay themselves in - loving tribute at their master’s feet; but rich as the music - that they bring, all the cadences of our eulogy - - - Sigh for the touch of a vanished hand, - And the sound of a voice that is still. - - - And here to-day, within this hall glorified by the echoes of his - eloquence, standing to answer the impulse of my heart in the - roll-call of his friends, and stricken with my emptiness of - words, I know that, when the finger of God touched his eyelids - into sleep, there gathered a silence upon the only lips that - could weave the sunbright story of his days, or mete sufficient - eulogy to the incomparable richness of his life. - - I agree with Patrick Collins that he was the most brilliant son - of this Republic. If the annals of these times are told with - truth, they will give him place as the phenomenon of his period, - the Admirable Crichton of the age in which he lived. No - eloquence has equaled his since Sargent Prentiss faded from the - earth. No pen has plowed such noble furrow in his country’s - fallow fields since the wrist of Horace Greeley rested; no age - of the Republic has witnessed such marvelous conjunction of a - magical pen with the velvet splendor of a mellow tongue, and - although the warlike rival of these wondrous forces never rose - within his life, it is writ of all his living, that the noble - fires of his genius were lighted in his boyhood from the gleam - that died upon his father’s sword. - - I have loved to follow, and I love to follow now the pathway of - that diamond pen as it flashed like an inspiration over every - phase of life in Georgia. It touched the sick body of a desolate - and despairing agriculture with the impulse of a better method, - and the farmer, catching the glow of promise in his words, left - off sighing and went to singing in his fields, until at last the - better day has come, and as the sunshine melts into his harvests - with the tender rain, the heart of humanity is glad in his hope - and the glow on his fields seems the smile of the Lord. Its - brave point went with cheerful prophecy and engaging manliness - into the ranks of toil, until the workman at his anvil felt the - dignity of labor pulse the somber routine of the hours, and the - curse of Adam softening in the faith of silver sentences, became - the blessing and the comfort of his days. Into the era of - practical politics it dashed with the grace of an earlier - chivalry, and in an age of pushing and unseemly scramble, it - woke the spirit of a loftier sentiment, while around the glow of - splendid narrative and the charm of entrancing plea there grew a - goodlier company of youth, linked to the Republic’s nobler - legends and holding fast that generous loyalty which builds the - highest bulwark of the State. - - First of all the instruments which fitted his genius to - expression was this radiant pen. Long after it had blazed his - way to eminence and usefulness, he waked the power of that - surpassing oratory which has bettered all the sentiment of his - country and enriched the ripe vocabulary of the world. Nothing - in the history of human speech will equal the stately steppings - of his eloquence into glory. In a single night he caught the - heart of the country into its warm embrace, and leaped from a - banquet revelry into national fame. It is, at last, the crowning - evidence of his genius, that he held to the end, unbroken, the - high fame so easily won, and sweeping from triumph unto triumph, - with not one leaf of his laurels withered by time or staled by - circumstance, died on yesterday—the foremost orator of all the - world. - - It is marvelous, past all telling how he caught the heart of the - country in the fervid glow of his own! All the forces of our - statesmanship have not prevailed for union like the ringing - speeches of this bright, magnetic man. His eloquence was the - electric current over which the positive and negative poles of - American sentiment were rushing to a warm embrace. It was the - transparent medium through which the bleared eyes of sections - were learning to see each other clearer and to love each other - better. He was melting bitterness in the warmth of his patrial - sympathies, sections were being linked in the logic of his - liquid sentences, and when he died he was literally loving a - Nation into peace. - - Fit and dramatic climax to a glorious mission, that he should - have lived to carry the South’s last and greatest message to the - center of the Nation’s culture, and then, with the gracious - answer to his transcendent service locked in his loyal heart, - come home to die among the people he had served! Fitter still, - that, as he walked in final triumph through the streets of his - beloved city, he should have caught upon his kingly head that - wreath of Southern roses—richer jewels than Victoria - wears—plucked by the hands of Georgia women, borne by the hands - of Georgia men, and flung about him with a loving tenderness - that crowned him for his burial, that, in the unspeakable - fragrance of Georgia’s full and sweet approval, he might “draw - the drapery of his couch about him, and lie down to pleasant - dreams.” - - If I should seek to touch the core of all his greatness, I would - lay my hand upon his heart. I should speak of his humanity—his - almost inspired sympathies, his sweet philanthropy and the noble - heartfulness that ran like a silver current through his life. - His heart was the furnace where he fashioned all his glowing - speech. Love was the current that sent his golden sentences - pulsing through the world, and in the honest throb of human - sympathies he found the anchor that held him steadfast to all - things great and true. He was the incarnate triumph of a - heartful man. - - I thank God, as I stand above my buried friend, that there is - not one ignoble memory in all the shining pathway of his fame! - In all the glorious gifts that God Almighty gave him, not one - was ever bent to willing service in unworthy cause. He lived to - make the world about him better. With all his splendid might he - helped to build a happier, heartier and more wholesome sentiment - among his kind. And in fondness, mixed with reverence, I believe - that the Christ of Calvary, who died for men, has found a - welcome sweet for one who fleshed within his person the golden - spirit of the New Commandment and spent his powers in glorious - living for his race. - - O brilliant and incomparable Grady! We lay for a season thy - precious dust beneath the soil that bore and cherished thee, but - we fling back against all our brightening skies the thoughtless - speech that calls thee dead! God reigns and his purpose lives, - and although these brave lips are silent here, the seeds sown in - this incarnate eloquence will sprinkle patriots through the - years to come, and perpetuate thy living in a race of nobler - men! - - But all our words are empty, and they mock the air. If we would - speak the eulogy that fills this day, let us build within this - city that he loved, a monument tall as his services, and noble - as the place he filled. Let every Georgian lend a hand, and as - it rises to confront in majesty his darkened home, let the widow - who weeps there be told that every stone that makes it has been - sawn from the solid prosperity that he builded, and that the - light which plays upon its summit is, in afterglow, the sunshine - that he brought into the world. - - And for the rest—silence. The sweetest thing about his funeral - was that no sound broke the stillness, save the reading of the - Scriptures and the melody of music. No fire that can be kindled - upon the altar of speech can relume the radiant spark that - perished yesterday. No blaze born in all our eulogy can burn - beside the sunlight of his useful life. After all there is - nothing grander than such living. - - I have seen the light that gleamed at midnight from the - headlight of some giant engine rushing onward through the - darkness, heedless of opposition, fearless of danger, and I - thought it was grand. I have seen the light come over the - eastern hills in glory, driving the lazy darkness like mist - before a sea-born gale, till leaf and tree, and blade of grass - glittered in the myriad diamonds of the morning ray; and I - thought it was grand. - - I have seen the light that leaped at midnight athwart the - storm-swept sky, shivering over chaotic clouds, mid howling - winds, till cloud and darkness and the shadow-haunted earth - flashed into mid-day splendor, and I knew it was grand. But the - grandest thing, next to the radiance that flows from the - Almighty Throne, is the light of a noble and beautiful life, - wrapping itself in benediction ’round the destinies of men, and - finding its home in the blessed bosom of the Everlasting God! - - - SPEECH OF GOVERNOR GORDON. - - - Mr. Chairman and Fellow-Citizens: The news of Henry Grady’s - death reached me at a quiet country retreat in a distant section - of the State. The grief of that rural community, as deep and - sincere as the shock produced by his death was great and - unexpected, told more feelingly and eloquently than any words of - mine possibly can, the universality of the love and admiration - of all her people for Georgia’s peerless son. - - It is no exaggeration to say that the humblest and the highest, - the poorest and richest—all classes, colors and creeds, with an - unspeakable sorrow, mourn his death as a public calamity. It is - no exaggeration to say that no man lives who can take his place. - It is no extravagant eulogy to declare that scarcely any - half-dozen men, by their combined efforts, can fill in all - departments the places which he filled in his laborious and - glorious life. - - His wonderful intellect, enabling him, without apparent effort, - to master the most difficult and obtuse public questions, and to - treat them with matchless grace and power; his versatile genius, - which made him at once the leader in great social reforms, as - well as in gigantic industrial movements—that genius which made - him at once the eloquent advocate, the logical expounder, the - wise organizer, the vigorous executive—all these rich and - unrivaled endowments, justify in claiming for him a place among - the greatest and most gifted of this or any age. - - But splendid as were his intellectual abilities, it is the - boundless generosity of his nature, his sweet and loving spirit, - his considerate and tender charity, exhaustless as a fountain of - living waters, refreshing and making happy all hearts around - him, these are the characteristics on which I love most to - dwell. It is no wonder that his splendid genius attracted the - gaze and challenged the homage of the continent. It is perhaps - even a less wonder that a man with such boundless sympathies for - his fellow men and so prodigal with his own time and talent and - money in the service of the public, should be so universally and - tenderly loved. - - The career of Henry Grady is more than unique. It constitutes a - new chapter in human experience. No private citizen in the whole - eventful history of this Republic ever wore a chaplet so - fadeless or linked his name so surely with deathless - immortality. His name as a journalist and orator, his brilliant - and useful life, his final crowning triumph, especially the - circumstances of martyrdom surrounding his death, making it like - that of the giant of holy writ, as we trust, more potential than - ever in intellectual prowess of magic of the living man—all - these will conspire not more surely to carry his fame to - posterity, than will his deeds of charity and ready responses to - those who needed his effective help, serve to endear to our - hearts and memories, as long as life shall last, the memory of - Henry W. Grady. - - - * * * * * - -Governor Gordon’s tribute was the last of the sad occasion. - -At its conclusion Dr. H. C. Morrison pronounced the benediction, and the -curtain was drawn on the final public exercises of the most memorable -funeral service the South has ever known. - -But the memory of the loved and illustrious dead will linger long with -his bereaved people. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - MEMORIAL MEETING AT MACON, GA. - - ------- - -A GRADY Memorial Meeting was held at Macon, Ga., on the evening of -Thursday, December 26, 1889. The Academy of Music was filled with an -assemblage of citizens of all classes. The meeting was called to order -by Mr. F. H. Richardson, and the exercises were opened with an -impressive prayer by Rev. T. R. Kendall, pastor of Mulberry Street -Church. In announcing the object of the meeting, Mr. Richardson, who -presided, said: - - - ADDRESS OF MR. RICHARDSON. - - - Fellow-Citizens: We have assembled to-night to honor the memory - of a good and useful man; to express our sincere regrets that - death has closed a high career in the meridian of its splendor; - to voice our sympathy with the grief which this public loss has - carried to every part of our State. - - This is an occasion without precedent in the history of Macon. - Never before have its people given such tribute to the memory of - a private citizen. But when has such a private citizen lived, - when has such a one died in Georgia? In speaking of my dear, - dead friend I trust I do not pass the bounds of exact and proper - statement when I say that there was not within the limits of - these United States any man unburdened by office, unadorned by - the insignia of triumphs in the fields of war, or the arena of - politics, whose death would have been so generally deplored as - is that of Henry W. Grady. It will be our privilege and pleasure - to hear testimony of his genius and his virtues from the - representatives of five organizations; the Press, the Chamber of - Commerce of Macon, the resident alumni of the State University, - the City Government, and the Chi Phi Fraternity. Each of these - has good reason to honor the memory of Henry Grady. The press - can fashion no eulogy richer than his desert, for his was the - most illustrious pen that has flashed in Southern journalism - during this generation. The Chamber of Commerce cannot accord - him too much praise, for, though himself unskilled in the - science of trade, he was the chief promoter of public enterprise - in his city and set an example worthy the emulation of any man - whose ambition looks to the promotion of commercial and - industrial progress. Surely the Alumni of the State University - should honor him, for he was the most famous man who has left - the classic halls of Athens in many a year. It is well that the - City Government joins in this general tribute to the lamented - dead. He led his own city to high ideals and to large - achievements. He preached the gospel of liberality as well as - the creed of progress. While his devotion to his own city was - supreme, from his lips there fell no word of scorn or malice for - any other community. Let us emulate the catholicity of his - patriotism. Atlanta was its central force and fire, but it - extended to all Georgia, to all these States and, passing beyond - the boundaries of his own county, was transformed into a love - for all mankind. The Chi Phi Fraternity had much cause to love - Henry Grady. Only those of us who know the full meaning of the - mystic bonds of that brotherhood can appreciate the ardor and - enthusiasm of his devotion to it. There was that in him which - was nobler and worthier of commemoration than even his radiant - genius. Powerful as he was with the pen, persuasive as he was in - his masterful control of the witchery of eloquence, fascinating - as was his personality, he had a still better claim to honor - than could be founded on these distinctions. After all, the best - fame is that which, though not sought, is won by goodness, - charity, and brotherly love. Leigh Hunt’s Abou Ben Adhem is - lovelier than the mightiest of the Moorish Kings. Henry Grady - concerned himself to do good unto others. He kindled the fire on - cold hearth stones, he cared for the sick and the forsaken, he - visited the prisoner, he carried consolation to the desolate. - His works of mercy, tenderness, and love do live after him, and - they are the crowning beauty of his work in this world. The tear - of gratitude that trickles down the cheek of the orphan is a - purer jewel than ever sparkled in the crown of political fame. - The simple thanks of the friendless and oppressed make sweeter - music to the soul than the applause of senates. These priceless - rewards were showered upon him in recognition of many an untold - deed of charity and grace. His life has been concluded when, - according to human wisdom, it seemed most desirable that he - should linger among the walks of men. Silence has set its seal - on his eloquent lips when their words seemed sweetest. His - great, tender heart has been hushed forever, when from the life - it quickened there were going forth influences of large and - increasing beneficence. - - - * * * * * - -Capt. J. L. HARDEMAN was then introduced, and he read the following -resolutions framed by the committee from the meeting of the various -bodies held last Tuesday: - - - RESOLUTIONS. - - - The death of Henry Grady is a great blow to the hopes of the - South. He had become one of the foremost men of the day in her - behalf. His leadership was as unique as it was controlling. He - held no office, he sought no preferment, and yet he was a - leader. History furnishes but few examples like this, none that - can excel him in the sublime usefulness of his career. His - patriotism was so lofty that one cannot measure it by the - standards of the hour. His soul was filled to running over with - a deep love for his people and the sufferings they had endured, - and those to which fanaticism might expose them. This love was - his inspiration. It moved, it commanded the largest exercise of - his versatile genius under an infinite variety of circumstances. - And in all of these, whether as editor, writer, orator or - citizen, he buried far out of sight every consideration of self - and wrought for the people’s good. And his work was on a plane - as exalted as his highest aspirations. No taint of gain ever - touched his hand; no surrender of principle ever marred the - colors of the banner he bore. What though in a passing moment he - may have differed with others upon minor matters, yet in all the - great and burning questions which so vitally concern the people - of the South and of the Union, he was abreast and ahead of - nearly all others. In his life every element of success was - materialized, an energy as untiring as the tides of the sea; a - courage like the eagle’s that gazes with eye undimmed upon the - glare of the noonday sun; a genius so comprehensive that it - grasped with equal facility the smallest detail and the broadest - of human issues, and above all, a patriotism pure, heroic, - unsectional, drawing its inspiration from the sacred fountain - head of American liberty, and spreading its benign influence - wherever the Constitution is obeyed and the rights of mankind - respected. And thus he worked in the fore front till death - overtook him. In this hour of mourning, how heavily do we feel - his loss. The great purpose of life was just planned out. The - certainty of its fulfillment could rest alone with him. To lead - his people onward and upward through all the harassing - difficulties which beset them to the full fruition of - constitutional liberty in its widest meaning, was his purpose. - Not alone by his splendid oratory did he seek to attain this - end; to this end he devoted his pen as an editor, and to this - end he also devoted those beautiful traits of his private - character, which made him loved by all who knew him. His - unfinished work is yet to be accomplished. The young Moses of - the Southland is gone, and may the people not wander from his - teachings. The people of Macon assembled to do honor to the - illustrious dead - - _Resolve_, That in the death of Henry W. Grady, the State of - Georgia has lost one of her noblest sons, the Union a man who - was a patriotic lover of constitutional liberty. - - _Resolve_, That in the death of Henry W. Grady, the city of - Atlanta has been deprived of a noble, energetic and unselfish - citizen, who was devoted to her interests. - - _Resolve_, That we tender our sympathies as a people to the - family of the deceased, and that a copy of these resolutions be - forwarded to them. - - JOHN L. HARDEMAN, } - W. W. COLLINS, } _Committee_. - WASHINGTON DESSAU, } - - -In moving the adoption of the resolutions, he said: - -Mr. Chairman: In moving the adoption of this, the report of your -committee, I can but say that to-night emphasizes the words of -Jerusalem’s King: “A good name is better than precious ointment, and the -day of death than the day of one’s birth.” Death came to him as a -benediction that followed a sacrifice. Warned by his physician that he -was ill, cavalier of the South alone he marched to battle for her, -uninspired by the enthusiasm of a battle array, yet within cannon shot -of Bunker Hill, and where he could feel the spray from Plymouth Rock, he -fought a gallant fight for us, and leaving the field victor, amidst the -plaudits of those he had conquered, he hastened home to complete his -sacrifice; and the same angel that bade him leave this world spoke not -only to the soul of Henry W. Grady, but to all the people North and -South: “Peace, be still.” - -The resolutions were unanimously adopted by a rising vote. - - * * * * * - -Professor G. R. GLENN was then introduced and read the following -preamble and resolution on the part of the committee of alumni: - - - ALUMNI RESOLUTIONS. - - - It is no ordinary occasion that calls us together. That was no - ordinary light that went out in the gray mists of early dawn. It - was no ordinary life that has so suddenly and so strangely come - down to its close. To those of us who were University students - with him, who knew his University career, the story of his - splendid accomplishments has more than ordinary significance, - and the heart-breaking tragedy of his sudden taking off a - profound meaning. - - We had a personal sympathy in every stride of his struggling - manhood: we carried a personal pride to every wonderful - achievement of his growing genius: we hailed with fraternal joy - every popular triumph of his intellectual prowess; we joined in - every glad shout that told how victoriously his unselfish love - was commanding sway over the American heart; and when he is - stricken down we bow our heads in sorrow, as only those can who - know the sources from which he drew the inspirations of his - life. - - He came from the University of Georgia in those palmy days from - ’66 to ’72, when Lipscomb and Mell and W. L. Brown and Waddell - and Rutherford and Charbonnier and Jones and Smead—names that - some of us will teach our boys to pronounce tenderly and - reverently—were at their greatest and best. In this company - gathered here are those who know the meaning and the moulding - power of great character builders like these. The great soul of - the venerable Chancellor Lipscomb, that grand arch priest of - higher learning, made its impress on the soul of the young man - at Athens. Some of us can trace that impress, and the impress of - the University of those days, through all his after life down to - that Boston speech, aye, even to the delirium of that last - sickness, when his thought was for others rather than of - himself. - - Moulded to be generous, broad-minded, tolerant, unselfish, - magnanimous, aspiring, noble, who may tell us what climax this - divinely gifted, sunny soul might not have reached if his rich - and kingly life might have been spared to his race. The - education that he received was an evolution of the best and most - royal in manhood. It was fashioned on this pattern—the germ - thoughts of his life took root in his home and branched out to - his friends, overshadowed this city, sent their far-reaching and - strengthening arms over every portion of his State, and then - towered grandly above his section. Yea, and had began to bear - fruit for the healing of the nation, when alas, alas, an - inscrutable Providence cuts him down. But, thank God, that - matchless tongue, now silent forever, was not hushed till, above - Atlanta, above Georgia, above the South, above the whole - country, the undying eloquence of that Boston speech rose in - majestic waves over city, state, section and country, and sent - the far-thrilling echoes into the eternal depths of our common - humanity. There it is—from his home, through the university - life, through the splendid work in his editorial chair, on the - rostrum, in every forward movement of his soul to that last - grand plea to the national heart, and down into the delirium of - the death chamber, it is the evolution of the noblest and the - best. The heart that made the sunniest home in Atlanta warmed - everything it touched, from the son of the Puritan on Plymouth - Rock, to the grey-haired old freedman that goes with tottering - step and slow to join old master and old missus behind the - sunset hills. - - The University has sent out many sons who have honored her in - filling large places in the history of our State and country. - Hill and Stephens and Toombs, the Cobbs, and Jacksons, and - Lumpkins, and Crawfords, and Gordons, and a long line of - immortal names, have illustrated her worth in the professions, - in the field, and in the forum. Of the many bright and - brightening names of her younger sons, the name of Grady easily - led all the rest, and now that he is gone, the almost universal - cry is, who among those that are left is great enough to fill - his place. In the words of one who had much to do in moulding - his intellectual life: “Ulysses is away on his wandering and - there is none left in Ithaca strong enough to bend his bow.” - - _Resolved_, That in the death of Henry W. Grady the Alumni of - the University of Georgia have lost from their ranks a man who - illustrated the best that comes from University education. - - _Resolved_, That his career furnishes to our young men a shining - example of one who, choosing his life-work, loved it with an - unwavering love, believed in it with an unalterable and tireless - devotion and reached success and eminence before he had rounded - two-score years. - - _Resolved_, That we recognize and commend the unselfish and - generous love of our brother for his own race and for the human - race—a love that was so warm and genial that it won men to him - as if by magic. Here was the motive power that developed and - drove his great brain. Here was the “open sesame” that unlocked - for him those treasure-houses of grand thoughts for humanity - that are forever barred to cold-hearted and self-seeking men. - - _Resolved_, That we very tenderly and lovingly commend to our - Heavenly Father the loved ones about his own hearthstone. We - cannot understand this blow, but we bow in submission to the - Judge of all the earth, who will do right. - - _Resolved_, That copies of this preamble and resolutions be - furnished to his family, and to the Macon and Atlanta papers for - publication. - - G. R. GLENN, } - W. B. HILL, } _Committee_. - WASHINGTON DESSAU, } - - -These resolutions were also unanimously adopted. - - * * * * * - -Mr. John T. Boifeuillet, representing the press of Macon, spoke as -follows: - - - ADDRESS OF MR. BOIFEUILLET. - - - Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen: The silver cord is loosed, - the golden bowl is broken, and the most brilliant light in - American journalism is veiled in darkness. The crystal spirit - has returned to the bright realm from whence it came, as an - evangel of peace, hope and mercy. - - The star was rapidly ascending to the zenith of its greatest - brilliancy and magnitude when suddenly it disappeared below the - horizon, but across the journalistic firmament of the country it - has left an effulgent track whose reflection illuminates the - world. - - Henry Grady’s sun-bright intellect shone with a splendor that - dazzled the eyes of men, and made luminous the pages traced by - his magnetic pen. The cold type sparkled with the fires of his - genius. His writings breathed a spirit of sweetness and - good-will. They were inspired by lofty purposes and earnest - endeavor, free from all suspicion of selfishness or insincerity. - No shadow of doubt fell across the sunshine of his truth. - - Wherever a sunbeam wandered, or a tear-drop glistened; wherever - a perishing life trod upon the ebbing tide; wherever beauty sat - garlanded, or grief repined, there Grady was, singing his loves - and binding rainbow hopes around the darkest despair. His harp - was strung in harmony with the chords of the human heart. - - When God in his eternal council conceived the thought of man’s - creation, he called to him the three ministers who wait - constantly upon the throne, Justice, Truth, and Mercy, and thus - addressed them: “Shall we make man?” Then said Justice: “O God, - make him not, for he will trample upon the laws.” Truth made - answer also: “O God, make him not, for he will pollute the - sanctuaries.” But Mercy, dropping upon her knees, and looking up - through her tears, exclaimed: “O God, make him—and I will watch - over him with my care through all the dark paths which he may - have to tread!” Then God made man, and said to him: “O man, thou - art the child of Mercy; go and deal with thy brother.” - - So, Henry Grady, a ministering angel of mercy on earth, - faithfully tried, throughout his life, in his conduct toward his - fellow-man, to follow the Divine injunction given at man’s - creation morn. His pen was never dipped in malice or bitterness, - but was always lifted in behalf of charity, love and kindness; - in behalf of progress, industry and enterprise; in behalf of the - South and her institutions—his State and her people. - - - For every heart he had a tone, - Could make its pulses all his own. - - - Some men burst to shatters by their own furious notion, others - in the course of nature simply cease to shine; some dart through - the period of their existence like meteors through the sky, - leaving as little impression behind and having with it a - connection equally as slight, while others enter it so - thoroughly that the time becomes identified with them. To this - latter class belonged Henry Grady. - - His pen improved the agriculture of the South; it advanced the - material interest and substantial growth of Georgia; it - advocated industrial training for the youths and maidens of the - land; it developed the poetry of the State; it elevated the - morals of men and purified their character; it created noble - aspirations in the human heart; it implanted seeds of - benevolence, charity and liberality; it taught the lesson of - self-abnegation and forgiveness; it inculcated principles of - patriotism and love of country; it softened animosities between - the North and South, and clasped the hands of the two sections - in fraternal greeting. His pen built Atlanta, it aided in - building up Georgia; it established expositions that were a - credit to the State and a glory to her people; it accumulated by - one editorial $85,000 for the erection of a Y. M. C. A. - building; it collected the fund for the erection of the - Confederate soldiers’ home, which will ever stand as a monument - to his patriotism and fidelity. When winter clasped Atlanta in - its icy embrace, and the poor were suffering from hunger and - cold, his pleading pen made the God-favored people of that city, - who sat within places of wealth and comfort, by glowing fires - and bountifully laden tables, hear the wail of the orphan and - the cry of the widow; purse-strings were unfastened, cold hearts - thawed under the magnetic warmth of his melting pathos, and in a - few hours there was not an empty larder or a fireless home among - the poor of Georgia’s great capital. Whether engaged in making - governors and senators, or preparing a Christmas dinner for - newsboys, whether occupied in building a church or forming a - Chautauqua; whether constructing a railroad or erecting some - eleemosynary institution, his pen was powerful and his influence - potent. It has left its impress upon the tablets of the world’s - memory, and the name of Henry Grady, the great pacificator, will - live in song and story until the sundown of time. - - According to a contemporary, Henry Grady, while a beardless - student at college, wrote a letter to the Atlanta - _Constitution_, which was his first newspaper experience. The - sparkle and dash of the communication so pleased the editor of - the paper, that when the first press convention after the war - was tendered a ride over the State road, the editor telegraphed - his boyish correspondent, who had then returned to his home in - Athens, that he wished to have him represent the _Constitution_ - on that trip, and write up the country and its resources along - the line of the road. Mr. Grady accepted the commission, and of - all the hundreds of letters written on the occasion, his, over - the signature of “King Hans,” were most popular and most widely - copied. He became editor and one of the proprietors of the Rome - _Daily Commercial_, a sprightly, newsy, and enterprising - journal. Rome, however, was at that time too small to support a - daily paper on such a scale, and in 1872 Mr. Grady purchased an - interest in the Atlanta _Herald_. Here he found room and - opportunity for his soaring wings, and the _Herald_ became one - of the most brilliant papers ever published in Georgia. In 1876 - he became connected with the _Constitution_. By this time his - editorial abilities had made him many friends at home and - abroad, and James Gordon Bennett at once made him the Southern - representative of the New York _Herald_. On this journal Mr. - Grady did some of the best work of his life. He rapidly regained - all that he had lost in his ventures, and in 1880 purchased a - fourth interest in the _Constitution_, taking the position of - managing editor, which he held at the time of his death. His - career in that capacity is a matter of proud and brilliant - history. He had just commenced an interesting series of valuable - letters to the _New York Ledger_ when he was stricken down with - fatal sickness, even while the plaudits of the admiring - multitude were ringing in his ears and the press of the country - was singing his praises. - - The last editorial Grady wrote was the beautiful and soulful - tribute on the death of Jefferson Davis; and on the eve of Mr. - Grady’s departure from Atlanta for Boston he sounded the - bugle-call for funds to help erect a monument to the peerless - champion of the “Lost Cause.” How strange, indeed, that the - illustrious leader and sage of the Old South and the brilliant - and fearless apostle of the New South, should pass away so near - together. Ben Hill died, and his place has never been supplied - in Georgia. Mr. Grady approached nearer to it than any other - man. Now Grady is gone, and his duplicate cannot be found in the - State. Society was blessed by his living and his State advanced - by his usefulness and excellence. - - Like the great Cicero, who, when quitting Rome, took from among - his domestic divinities the ivory statue of Minerva, the - protectress of Rome, and consecrated it in the temple, to render - it inviolable to the spoilers, so Henry Grady, when leaving his - college halls to enter upon a brilliant life in the journalistic - world, took with him to the oracles the statue of pure thought, - and after its consecration, to protect and preserve it in his - bosom, it became to him a shield and buckler. Thus armed he went - forward to the battle of life, determined to do his whole duty - to his country, his God and truth. How well he succeeded, the - voice of admiring humanity proclaims, and the angels of heaven - have recorded. He vanquished all opposition and waved his - triumphant banner over every field of conflict. - - His thoughts were sparks struck from the mind of Deity, immortal - in their character and duration. They were active, energizing, - beautiful, and refined. His mind was like a precious bulb, - putting forth its shoots and blooming its flowers, warmed by the - sunshine and watered by the showers. It was like a beautiful - blade, burnished and brightened, and as it flashed in the - sunlight it mirrored his kingly soul and knightly spirit. - - Looking back at the ages that have rolled by in the revolutions - of time, what have we remaining of the past but the thoughts of - men? Where is magnificent Babylon with her palaces, her - artificial lakes and hanging gardens that were the pride and - luxury of her vicious inhabitants; where is majestic Nineveh, - that proud mistress of the East with her monuments of commercial - enterprise and prosperity? Alas! they are no more. Tyre, that - great city, into whose lap the treasures of the world were - poured, she too is no more. The waves of the sea now roll where - once stood the immense and sumptuous palaces of Tyrian wealth. - Temples, arches and columns may crumble to pieces and be swept - into the sea of oblivion; nature may decay and races of men come - and go like the mists of the morning before the rising sun, but - the proud monuments of Henry Grady’s mind will survive the - wrecks of matter and the shocks of time. - - On the Piedmont heights peacefully sleeps the freshness of the - heart of the New South, cut down in the grandeur of his fame and - in the meridian of his powers, in the glory of his life and in - the richest prime of his royal manhood. His brow is wreathed - with laurel. Costly marble will mark the place of his head, and - beautiful flowers bloom at his feet. There the birds will carol - their vespers, and gentle breezes breathe fragrance o’er his - grave. The sun in his dying splendor, ere sinking to rest amid - the clouds that veil the “golden gate,” will linger to kiss the - majestic monument reared by loving hearts, and with a flood of - beauty bathe it in heavenly glory. And then the blush fades, - even as it fades from the face of a beautiful woman. Shadows - begin to climb the hillside, and nature sleeps, lulled by the - soft music of the singing wind. The stars, the bright - forget-me-nots of the angels, come out to keep their vigils o’er - the sleeping dust of him whose soul hath gone - - - To that fair land upon whose strand - No wind of winter moans. - - - * * * * * - -Major J. F. Hanson, as the representative of the Chamber of Commerce, -said: - - - ADDRESS OF MAJOR HANSON. - - - It would be impossible at this short distance in point of time - from the final struggle in which Mr. Grady yielded up his life, - to form a just estimate of his character, his attainments and - his work. These have passed into history, and will survive the - mournful demonstrations of his people, because of their loss in - his sudden and unexpected death. - - To many of you he was personally known, while, with the people - of Georgia, his name was a household word. In his chosen - profession he will rank with Lamar and Watterson. With these - exceptions, in the field of Southern journalism, he was without - a rival or a peer, while, as an orator, his brilliant efforts - had attracted the attention and won the plaudits of the entire - country. - - His speeches before the New England Society, at Dallas, Texas, - Augusta, Georgia, the University of Virginia, and finally at - Boston, constitute the record upon which must rest his claim to - statesmanship. - - While the people of the South, with one voice, approve the - purpose manifested in these matchless efforts to maintain the - supremacy of the Anglo-Saxon in the public affairs of this - section, there are differences of opinion with reference to the - methods, which, by implication at least, he was supposed to have - approved, for the accomplishment of this purpose. If, at this - point, there was real or apparent conflict with the broad spirit - of nationalism, for which at other times he pleaded so often and - so eloquently, it is but fair to attribute it to the supreme - conviction on his part that, through white supremacy in the - South, by whatever means maintained, this end was to be secured. - - However we may differ with reference to the methods which, as a - last alternative, he would have employed, or their final effect - upon the institutions of our country, we recognize the great - purpose which inspired his efforts in our behalf. Because this - is true, the people of the South will keep his memory green, - whatever the opinion of the world may be with reference to this - question. - - In the material development of the South, and her future - prosperity, power and glory, his faith was complete. He labored - without interruption during his entire career to promote these - great results, and impressed himself upon his section in its new - growth and new life, more than any man of his time. The - wonderful growth of his own city was due to the broad liberality - and supreme confidence in its future with which he inspired the - people of Atlanta. - - Phenomenal as his career has been during the past few years, he - had not reached the zenith of his powers, and what he - accomplished gave promise of greater achievements which the - future had in store for him, of increasing fame, and for his - State a richer heritage in his name. It is doubtful if he fully - understood, or had ever tested to the limit his power as an - orator. As occasion increased the demand upon him, he measured - up to its full requirements, until his friends had grown - confident of new and greater triumphs. - - We shall miss him much. His faults (and faults he had like other - men) are forgotten in view of his service to his friends, his - home, his State and his country, and of his untimely death, when - the highest honors which his people could bestow were gathering - about him. - - If he had not reached the meridian of his powers, he died in the - fullness of a great fame, and we turn from his grave sorrowing, - but not without hope, for we leave him in the hands of that - Providence which knoweth best, and doeth all things well. - - - * * * * * - -Judge Emory Speer, for the resident alumni of the University of Georgia, -said: - - - JUDGE SPEER’S ADDRESS. - - - Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen: It is instinctive with - civilized humanity to honor the illustrious dead. This animating - impulse is as practical and beneficent in its results to the - living, as it is righteous and compensating to those glorious - natures who have consecrated their lives to the service of their - country and of mankind. - - The youthful Athenian might contemplate the statue to - Demosthenes, and with emulation kindled by the story of his - eloquence and his courage, might resolve that his own lips shall - be touched as with the honey of Hybla, and that he will, if - needful, lead the people against another Phillip. The Switzer - lad, bowed before the altar in the chapel of William Tell, will - unconsciously swear forever to defend the independence of his - mountain home. The American youth, standing where the monument - to the Father of his Country throws its gigantic shadow across - the tranquil bosom of the Potomac, with elevation of soul and - patriotic animation will exclaim: I, too, am an American and a - freeman. And, sir, this characteristic of a generous and great - people finds unexampled expression in the conduct of our country - towards the memory of its soldiers, its statesmen, its patriots, - its philanthropists. They are enshrined in the hearts of a - grateful people. - - - Their deeds, as they deserve, - Receive proud recompense. We give in charge - Their names to the sweet lyre. The historic muse, - Proud of the treasure, marches with it down - To latest times; and sculpture, in her turn, - Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass - To guard them and immortalize her trust. - - - In obedience to this vitalizing and commanding influence of a - noble people, in deference to the designation of his brothers - and mine, in the beautiful association and sacred memories of - alma mater, I come to place a simple chaplet upon the grave of - Henry Grady, an humble votive offering at the shrine he has - merited and won in the Valhalla of the American people. Perhaps, - sir, in all this vast congregation there is not one man who knew - as I knew our dead brother in the happy and halcyon days of our - childhood. Thirty years ago we were boys together. Together we - attended the little school in the shadow of the great university - buildings, taught by a noble woman, the daughter of the - venerable Dr. Church, the president of Franklin College. Henry - was then remarkable for his sunny nature, his generous - disposition, his superabundant flow of good-humor and spirited - energy. Beautifully proportioned, agile, swift of foot, sinewy - and strong for his age, he was easily the leader of our childish - sports. Among his young companions he was even then the popular - favorite he has ever been. In the revolution of the “Great Iron - Wheel,” (an allusion which all good Methodists will understand), - I was borne away at the end of the year, and Henry Grady for - years went out of my life. A year later the dun clouds of war - enveloped the country. Five years elapsed, and when I returned - to Athens in September, 1866, to enter the sophomore class at - the University, there was Grady rising junior. The beautiful boy - had become a beautiful youth. His sunny nature had become even - brighter. His generosity had become a fault. When I had known - him in ’59, his father was perhaps the most successful and - enterprising merchant of Northeast Georgia. He was a sturdy - North Carolinian with that robustness and shrewd vigor of - intellectuality which, with men from that section, has seemed, - in many instances, to dispense with the necessity of elaborate - culture. A soldier and officer of the confederacy, he had fallen - at the head of his regiment, in one of the desperate battles on - the lines at Petersburg, when the immortal army of Northern - Virginia had, in the language of the gallant Gordon, been - “fought to a frazzle.” The brave soldier and thrifty merchant - had left a large estate. Grady was living with his mother, in - that lovely, old-fashioned home of which, in Boston, he caught - the vision, “with its lofty pillars, and white pigeons - fluttering down through the golden air.” - - His college life was a miracle of sweetness and goodness; never - did a glass of wine moisten his lips. Never did an oath or an - obscene word defile that tongue whose honeyed accents in time to - come were to persuade the millions of the fidelity and - patriotism of the people he loved. Well do I remember the look - of amazement, of indulgent but all intrepid forbearance, which - came into his face when one day a college bully offered to - insult him. In those days of innumerable college flirtations he - had but one sweetheart, and she the beautiful girl who became - his wife and is now the mother of his children, and his bereaved - and disconsolate widow. - - This sweetness of disposition ran through his whole life. If the - great journal of which he became an editor was engaged in an - acrimonious controversy, some other writer was detailed to - conduct it. Grady had no taste for controversy of any acrid - sort, and I recall but perhaps one exception in his whole - editorial life. But while he would never quarrel, I had the best - right to know, when the emergency came, he had the intrepidity - of a hero. Well do I remember the outcome of a thoughtlessly - cruel practical joke, which resulted in showing me and many - others the splendid fire of his courage. Early in my college - life, as Grady and I were walking in a dark night on the lonely - streets of Cobham to a supposed meeting of the Chi Phi - Fraternity we were waylaid by a number of our college-mates. I - was in the secret, Grady was not. A huge navy revolver, with - every cylinder loaded with blank cartridges, had been thrust - upon him as a means of defense from a band of mythical outlaws, - who had made purely imaginary threats of the bloodiest - description against everybody in general and the students of the - university in particular. Grady put the revolver in his pocket - and promised to stand by me, and well did he redeem the promise. - We started and as we passed a dark grove near the residence of - General Howell Cobb the band of supposed assassins rushed upon - us with demoniac yells, and firing a veritable _mitraille_ of - pistol shots with powder charges. Thoughtless boy that I was. I - shouted a defiance to the assassins and called to Grady to stand - by me, and I gave shot for shot as fast as I could pull the - trigger. The dear fellow had not the slightest doubt that we - were assailed by overwhelming odds by armed desperate foes, but - he stood by my side, firing straight at the on-rushing foe, - until, and not until, after several volleys I was shot dead and - dropped to the ground; when, being overpowered by numbers, and - his ally killed, he made a masterly retreat. Dear, kindly, - gallant nature, little didst thou deem that this boyish prank, - practiced by those whose familiar love embolden them, and all in - the riotous exuberance of careless youth would so soon be - recalled when thou wert gone, recalled with sighs and tears to - testify that thy gentle life had under its kindly surface a soul - as fearless as ever “swarmed up the breach at Ascalon.” - - Grady, as a writer and orator, was surpassed by no student of - the University, although he was doubtless the youngest member of - his class. Always, however, more successful in his efforts to - advance the political fortunes of others than of himself, he was - defeated for anniversarian of the Phi Kappa society by one vote; - but, as I remember, he bore off the equal distinction of - commencement orator, each society, at that time, having the - right to elect one of its members to that position. He did not - graduate with class honor, and perhaps fortunately. It is too - often true that honor men mistake the text-books which are - merely the keys to the understanding, for objects worthy of - ultimate pursuit and mastery, and we sometimes find these - gentlemen grubbing for Greek roots and construing abstruse - problems, while the great, busy, throbbing world is passing them - by, and has forgotten their existence. From the University of - Georgia, Grady went to the University of Virginia. Great tidings - of his success came back to us; we did not doubt that in any - contest which would try the temper of the man he would roll the - proud scions of the first families of Virginia in the - humiliating dust of defeat. Sore indeed were the lamentations, - vociferous our denials of a free ballot and a fair count, when - we learned that he had been defeated in the society contest - there; again, as I remember, by one vote. He came back to - Georgia and to journalism, and from that moment his history is - common property. Others have spoken, or will speak, of his - accomplishments in turning the Pactolian streams of capital into - the channels of Southern investment, of the numberless - enterprises to which he brought his lucidity of statement, his - captivating powers of argumentation, his magnetic methods for - the inspiration of others. The monuments of the vast and - far-reaching designs stand out all over this broad land; - gigantic factories, their tall chimneys towering toward the sky, - mighty railroads stretching through the mountains of Georgia, - where Tallulah and Tugalo rush downward toward the sea, where - hard by Toccoa dashes its translucent waves to spray. Others, - far away toward the shore of the Mexican Gulf, whose languid - waves, impelled by the soft winds of the tropics, cast the sea - foam on the snowy blossoms of the magnolia and the golden - fruitage of the orange, mines have been opened and earth made to - surrender from subterranean stores her hidden wealth at the - touch of his magical wand. Unnumbered beneficent projects attest - his genius and his philanthropy. But, not content to evolve the - treasures of physical nature, he labored incessantly to provide - methods to develop the mentality of the youth of the State. As a - trustee of the University, and an active member of its Alumni - society; as one in control of that mighty engine of public - thought, the great paper of which he was an editor, his - influence was looking and moving ever toward the light. He knew - that popular ignorance was the greatest danger to liberty, the - greatest foe to national prosperity. He knew that if the - terrible potency of its groping in darkness and prejudice could - but once, like the blind Samson, grasp the pillar of society in - its muscular arms, it would put forth its baleful strength and - whelm every social interest in crushing, appalling disaster and - irremediable ruin. - - The most tolerant of men, the life of our dear brother was one - of long protest against the narrowness of partisanship and - sectional bigotry. He was the most independent of thinkers. - - He demonstrated to the people of both sections of our once - divided country, that we might love and honor the traditions of - our Confederacy, and with absolute loyalty and devotion to the - Union as restored. He made it plain to the minds of the Northern - people that while it was impossible for an ex-Confederate - soldier or the children of his blood, to recall without a - kindling eye and a quickening pulse the swift march, the - stubborn retreat, the intrepid advance, the charging cry of the - gallant gray lines as they swept forward to the attack, the - red-cross battle-flags as their bullet-torn folds were borne - aloft in the hands of heroes along the fiery crest of battle. - But he made it plain also that these are but the emotions and - expressions of pride that a brave people cherish in the memories - of their manhood, in the record of their soldierly devotion. Are - we less imbued with the spirit of true Americanism on this - account? No, forever, no! Are the sons of Rupert’s cavaliers, or - Cromwell’s Ironsides less true to England and her constitution, - because their fathers charged home in opposing squadrons at - Edgehill and Naseby? Do not Englishmen the world over cherish - the common heritage of their common valor? Have Scotchmen, who - fought side by side with the English in the deserts of the - Soudan, or the jungles of Burmah, forgotten the memories of - Bannockburn, of Bruce, and of Wallace? - - The time will come—aye, it is present—when the heroism of the - gray and of the blue, is a common element of America’s military - power. I repeat, it is now. There is not a war officer in the - civilized world in comparing the power of his own country with - that of ours, who does not estimate man for man as soldiers of - the Union, the fighting strength of the Confederacy. - - The statesmen of the Old World know that underlying all of the - temporary questions of the hour—underlying all the resounding - disputes, whether in the language of Emerson, “James or Jonathan - shall sit in the chair and hold the purse,” the great patriotic - heart of the people is true to the constitution of the fathers, - true to republican government, true to the sovereignty of the - people, true to the gorgeous ensign of our country. - - In the presence of this knowledge, in the presence of that - mighty mission which under the providence of God has grown and - expanded day by day and century by century since Columbus, from - his frail caravel, beheld rising before his enraptured vision - the nodding palms and gleaming shores of another continent, the - mission to confer upon humanity the power and privilege of - government by the people and for the people, should be the - chiefest care of our countrymen. Of this mission Grady spoke - with an eloquence so elevated and so inspired that it seemed as - if the voices of the waiting angels were whispering to his - prophetic intelligence messages of peace, joy and gladness to - his countrymen. He said: - - “A mighty duty, and a mighty inspiration, impels every one of us - to-night to lose in patriotic consecration whatever estranges, - whatever divides. We, sir, are Americans—and we fight for human - liberty! The uplifting force of the American idea is under every - throne on earth. France, Brazil—these are our victories. To - redeem the earth from kingcraft and oppression—this is our - mission! And we shall not fail. God has sown in our soil the - seed of His millennial harvest, and He will not lay the sickle - to the ripening crop until His full and perfect day has come. - Our history, sir, has been a constant and expanding miracle from - Plymouth Rock and Jamestown all the way—aye, even from the hour - when, from the voiceless and trackless ocean, a new world rose - to the sight of the inspired sailor. As we approach the fourth - centennial of that stupendous day—when the old world will come - to marvel and to learn, amid our gathered treasures—let us - resolve to crown the miracles of our past with the spectacle of - a Republic compact, united, indissoluble in the bonds of - love—loving from the Lakes to the Gulf—the wounds of war healed - in every heart as on every hill—serene and resplendent at the - summit of human achievement and earthly glory—blazing out the - path and making clear the way, up which all nations of the earth - must come in God’s appointed time!” - - We may imagine that this inspired utterance completed, there - came to his glorious mentality another thought, another vision. - Again he exclaims as once before to a mighty throng, and now to - his own people: - - “All this, my country, and no more can we do for you. As I look - the vision grows, the splendor deepens, the horizon falls back, - the skies open their everlasting gates, and the glory of the - Almighty God streams through, as He looks down on His people who - have given themselves unto Him, and leads them from one triumph - to another until they have reached a glory unspeaking, and the - whirling stars, as in their courses through Arcturus they run to - the Milky Way, shall not look down on a better people or a - happier land.” - - Thus saying, his work was ended—his earthly pilgrimage was o’er. - He went to sleep - - - Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch about him - And lays him down to pleasant dreams. - - * * * * * - -Mr. Hugh V. Washington, representing the City Government, said: - - - ADDRESS OF MR. WASHINGTON. - - - Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen: There is a songster peculiar - to Southern woodland, who is without a rival. I have heard his - song on a still summer night, and when it died away, the silence - seemed deeper and more impressive. Georgia has given to the - country an orator whose eloquence was peculiar to himself, and - charmed every audience North, South and West, but that which - made him dearest to Southern hearts was the theme he delighted - to present; that voice was never raised except in behalf of the - honor, the interest and the prosperity of his people, and - to-night we know that that voice is silent forevermore. I have - no words to measure the profound sorrow I feel for the death of - Henry Grady; to say that his loss to the country cannot be - estimated, and that there is no one to take his place, is but to - express a thought common to all. His career as an orator dawned - as that other great Georgian, Benn Hill, passed away. The first - time I ever looked upon Jefferson Davis was when he stood in - Atlanta amid a vast concourse to honor the memory of the - eloquent and faithful Hill. I shall never forget that scene: - there stood before me two types of Southern manhood, the one of - the old, the other of the new; the venerable ex-president came - upon the platform, and a glad shout arose from thousands of - voices,—he stood the emblem and personification of all we held - most dear in the past, but he belonged to the past. There arose - to welcome him a young Georgian; his speech of welcome was a - masterpiece, every nerve in that vast audience vibrated, and - every voice was raised in deafening applause when Mr. Grady - declared that the rising of that morning’s sun, bringing with it - our beloved ex-president, brought greater joy to Southern hearts - than any since the resurrection morn. Mr. Grady, cherishing in - his heart of hearts the history of the Confederacy, seemed an - inspiration of hope and promise; he seemed to stand for the - Present and Future; and now within a few days of each other - these noble men have gone to their rest, and the close of a - joyous year finds our people bowed in sorrow over their graves. - Mr. Grady’s mission in life traveled beyond State bounds. He was - too big, too broad, too patriotic to be narrow or partisan; but - he was a Georgian to the core,—he sprung from the red hills of - classic Athens; he drank at the fountain of knowledge at the - State University; what was nearest to Georgia was nearest to - him, and he gave his life that the position of Georgia and her - sister States of the South might be made clear to our brethren - at the North; and to-night, by strange providence, his great - work is closed, and he is sepulchered in the bosom of his native - State, in Atlanta, whose greatness is due more to his efforts - than to any other man. - - The life of Henry Grady was like a rare and beautiful gem whose - every side was resplendent with light; as a son he was what - every mother might hope for in her boy; as a father he was - tender and true; as a friend he was open-hearted and generous as - the day; as a member of his old college fraternity none exceeded - him in zeal and generosity; as an alumnus of the State - University his fertile pen and brain were tireless in promoting - its interests; as a writer he was at once forcible and - fascinating in the highest degree; in journalism he disregarded - old methods, and set a higher standard for American journalism; - as an orator he had the force of Northern logic, and the beauty - of Southern diction; but as much as we may admire him for these - noble traits, yet it is in the life of Henry Grady, as a private - citizen, that he reached the highest points of his character. I - know of no other American citizen in the private walks of life - comparable to him. He never sought or held public office; he had - no record of a hundred battle-fields to make him famous; his - life was filled with private charities, and every enterprise of - his native State or city found a willing and powerful - sympathizer in him. The many charitable institutions of Atlanta - are before us as monuments to his zeal and generosity in behalf - of the poor, the needy, and the forsaken. After twenty-five - years, when the ranks of the Confederate veterans had been - decimated to a handful by the hand of time, and our State was - unable to provide a home for the scattered remnant, he conceived - the plan of building in our capital city, by private - benefaction, the Confederate Home. Wherever there is a man who - wore the gray, there will his name be honored and revered. But - it is useless to attempt an enumeration of the many enterprises - which he fostered; wherever there was work to be done to promote - the interest of his city, his State, or his country, he was - ready to give his time, his labor, and his money. But there is - another feature in the life of Henry Grady of which I would - speak,—he was pre-eminently a man of the times and for the - times, and in this critical juncture of our history he seemed to - have been raised up by a special providence to carry the message - of the South to the people of our common country; his - aspirations were not only for the success and prosperity of his - native section, but he desired to see all the States combined - together in a community of interest, of prosperity, of thought, - of aim, and of destiny; he brought to the attention of the - country the most gigantic problem of this or any other time; he - declared to the people of the North that the white people of the - South were one people with those of the North; that they had the - same traditions; the same blood; the same love of freedom, and - the same lofty resolve to preserve their race unpolluted and - free; and he brought to the discharge of this duty such - masterful eloquence, such sincerity of conviction, such kindness - of heart and liberality of thought, as to gain for him not only - the applause, but the admiration and sympathy and attention of - the whole country. Though the matchless orator lies still in - death, the South owes to him a debt of gratitude, which could - not be paid though a monument were erected to his memory higher - than that which rises in the sunlight above Potomac’s wave. - Though his voice be still, his words, his example, and his - patriotism shall be cherished in the hearts of many generations. - If I was asked to point to a man whose life should stand as a - model to the young men of the South, I would point to that of - the young Georgian, who has but so lately passed from among us. - - The city of Macon, which I have the honor to represent, may well - sorrow with our sister city of Atlanta, and we tender to his - bereaved people our heartfelt sorrow and sympathy. Henry Grady - stood as a prophet on the verge of the promised land, bidding - the Southland leave the desert of reconstruction, of gloom and - poverty behind it, and to enter with hope, and courage, and - cheerfulness upon the rich inheritance that the future holds in - store for us; and wherever truth, and courage, and unselfish - performance of duty are appreciated, there will his name find an - honored place on the roll of our country’s great names. And - turning our thoughts and hearts toward his new-made grave, let - us say, “Peace to his ashes, and honor to his memory.” - - - * * * * * - -The Hon. R. W. Patterson spoke as follows for the members of the Chi Phi -Fraternity residing in Macon: - - - ADDRESS OF MR. PATTERSON. - - - Ladies and Gentlemen: When Death like Nature’s chastening rod - hath smitten our common humanity, we realize the eternal truth - that “silence is the law of being, sound the breaking of the - rule.” Standing here as the representative of those who were - knit to the distinguished dead by as close a tie as that of - natural brotherhood, while a continent is yet vocal with the - echoes of his eloquence, my heart tells me that the infinite - possibilities of silence constitute the only worthy tribute - which I can pay to the memory of Henry Grady. The most - distinguished member of our fraternity is lost to us forever. O, - Death, there is thy sting; O, Grave, there is thy victory. - Though our ranks are full of gifted and famous men, in all the - tribes of our Israel, there is no Elisha upon whom the mantle of - this translated Elijah can descend. - - My fellow Georgians, how shall I speak to you of him? It is meet - that sympathy should veil her weeping eyes, when she mourns the - darling child who bore her gentle image ever mirrored in his - life. As well may the tongue speak when the soul has departed, - as Southern oratory declaim when Southern eloquence is buried in - the grave of Grady. Even American patriotism is voiceless as she - stands beside the coffined chieftain of her fast-assembling - host. Was he good? Let his neighbors answer. To-night Atlanta is - shrouded in as deep a pall as that which wrapped Egypt in gloom - when the angel of the Lord smote the first-born in every house. - In the busiest city of the State the rattle of commerce to-day - was suspended, the hum of industry was hushed, and in that gay - capital bright pleasure hath stayed her shining feet to drop a - tear upon the grave of him the people loved so well. Was he - great? From the pinnacle of no official station has he fallen; - the pomp and circumstance of war did not place him upon a - pedestal of prominence; no book has he given to the literature - of the nation; no wealth has he amassed with which to - crystallize his generosity into fame; and yet to-night a - continent stands weeping by his new-made grave, and as the waves - come laden with the message of the Infinite to the base of the - now twice historic Plymouth Rock, the sympathetic sobbing of the - sea can only whisper to the stricken land, “Peace, be still; my - everlasting arms are round you.” - - His greatness cannot be measured by his speeches, though they - were so masterful that they form a portion of his country’s - history. It will rather be gauged by that patient, brilliant - daily work, which made it possible for him to command the - nation’s ear, that power of which these public utterances were - but the exponents; his daily toil in his private sanctum in the - stately building of the _Constitution_, that magnificent - manufactory of public thought, which he wielded as a weaver does - his shuttle. A small and scantily furnished room, with nothing - in it save Grady, his genius and his God,—and yet thus - illumined, it warmed with the light of fraternal love both - sections of a Republic, compared to which that of historic - Greece was but as a perfumed lamp to the noontide splendor of - the sun. As a journalist Mr. Grady had no superior in America. - As a writer he exercised the princely prerogative of genius - which is to create and not obey the laws of rhetoric. As well - attempt to teach the nightingale to sing by note, or track the - summer lightning as we do the sun, as measure Grady’s style by - any rhetorician’s rule. I have thought that Mr. Grady was more - of an orator than a writer, and brilliant as his success in - journalism was, it was but the moonlight which reflected the sun - that dawned only to be obscured by death. Certainly no man in - any country or in any age, ever won fame as an orator faster - than he. With a wide reputation as a writer, but scarcely any as - a speaker, even in his own State, he appeared one night at a - banquet in New York, made a speech of twenty minutes, and the - next day was known throughout the United States as the foremost - of Southern orators. No swifter stride has been made to fame - since the days of David, for like that heroic stripling, with - the sling of courage and the stone of truth, he slew - Sectionalism, the Goliath which had so long threatened and - oppressed his people. - - Since Appomattox two historic speeches have been made by - Southern men; the one was that delivered in the Congress of the - United States upon the proposition to strike from the general - amnesty of the government the name of Jefferson Davis, when - Benjamin H. Hill broke the knightliest lance ever shivered in a - people’s honor, full on the haughty crest of the plumed knight; - the other was the Boston speech of Mr. Grady which, like a magic - key, will yet unlock the shackles that have so long manacled a - people who, strangest paradox in history, were enslaved by the - emancipation of their slaves. The logic of Hill was powerful as - the club of Hercules; the eloquence of Grady was irresistible as - the lyre of Orpheus. - - My countrymen, if it shall be written in the history of America - that by virtue of the genius of her Toombs and Cobb and Brown, - on the breast of our native State was cradled a revolution which - rocked a continent, upon another page of that history it will be - recorded that Georgia’s Grady was the Moses who led the Southern - people through a wilderness of weakness and of want at least to - the Pisgah whence, with prophetic eye, he could discern a New - South true to the traditions of the past as was the steel which - glittered on the victorious arm, at Manassas, but whose hopeful - hearts and helpful hands shall transform desolation into wealth - and convert the defeat of one section of our common country into - the haughty herald of that country’s future rank in the - civilization of the world. - - Even, when prompted by the tender relations of the fraternity - which I represent, I cannot trust myself to speak of Mr. Grady’s - private and social life. He was my friend. Nearly ten years - since his kindly glowing words revealed to me an ambition, which - I had scarcely dared to confess unto myself. As the summer days - still linger with us, so does the daily intercourse which it was - my fortune to enjoy with him some three months since—seem yet to - “compass me about.” By the royal right of intellect he commanded - the homage of my admiration; with the clarion voice of - patriotism he challenged my reverence, but with the magnetism of - his munificent manhood he bade Confidence, that sentry which - guards the human heart, surrender this citadel at discretion. I - trust that it will not be deemed inappropriate for me, man of - the world as I am, to bear my public testimony to the power of - Christianity illustrated in his life. Familiar in his youth with - every phase of pleasure, with the affluent blood of early - manhood yet running riot through his veins, with the temptations - of a continent spread like a royal feast, to which his talent - and his fame gave him easy access, yet when he bowed his head in - reverence to the meek and lowly Nazarene, his life was the - unimpeachable witness of his creed. A thousand sermons to me - were concentrated in the humanized Christianity of his faith and - his works. And God was good to him.—The magnificent success of - the Piedmont Exposition was to him the exponent of that - industrial progress which he had labored to establish. The - bountiful harvest of this closing year had seemed to set the - seal of God’s commendation upon his labors for the agricultural - interests of the South. Such was his fame that sixty million - Americans revered him as a patriot. With a wife beautiful and - brilliant, adoring him as only a woman can love a genius whom - she comprehends; with two children just verging into - adolescence, and reverencing him as an neophyte does his faith; - with the highest official station within his grasp; with the - curule chair of the Governorship already opening its arms to - receive him; with the future lifting the senatorial toga to - drape his eloquence; with possibilities of the White House - flashing through the green vista of the coming years,—with all - of these he made no murmur at the summons of his God. - - A widow weeps where yesterday a wife adored. Two orphans mourn - to-day where yesterday two children leaned upon a father’s arm. - A nation’s hope is turned to mourning. It needed the great heart - of Grady to gently murmur, “Thy will, not mine, be done.” - - But by all that he has accomplished, and by all that he has - projected, which the coming years will yet work out, I tell you - to-night, my fellow Georgians, that Henry Grady still lives an - abiding influence in the destinies of his country. Greatest - enemy of monopoly while he lived, the grandest of all monopolies - shall be his after death, for every industrial enterprise - hereafter inaugurated in the South must pay its royalty of fame - to him. Sleep on, my friend, my brother, brilliant and beloved; - let no distempered dream of unaccomplished greatness haunt thy - long last sleep. The country that you loved, that you redeemed - and disenthralled, will be your splendid and ever growing - monument, and the blessings of a grateful people will be the - grand inscription, which shall grow longer as that monument - rises higher among the nations of the earth. Wherever the peach - shall blush beneath the kisses of the Southern sun, wherever the - affluent grape shall don the royal purple of Southern - sovereignty, a votive offering from the one and a rich libation - from the other, the grateful husbandman will tender unto you. - The music of no machinery shall be heard within this Southland - which does not chant a pæan in your praise. Wherever Eloquence, - the deity whom this people hath ever worshiped, shall retain a - temple, no pilgrim shall enter there, save he bear thy dear name - as a sacred shibboleth on his lips. So long as patriotism shall - remain the shining angel who guards the destinies of our - Republic, her starry finger will point to Grady on Plymouth - Rock, for Fame will choose to chisel his statue there, standing - as the sentinel whom God had placed to keep eternal watch over - the liberties of a re-united people! - - - * * * * * - -The exercises were concluded with the benediction by the Rev. G. A. -Nunnally, D.D., President of Mercer University. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PERSONAL TRIBUTES. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THOUGHTS ON H. W. GRADY. - - BY B. H. SAMETT. - - ------- - - -MEN of genius often die early. Keats died at twenty-six, Shelly at -thirty, Byron at thirty-six, and Burns at thirty-seven. Henry Grady was -born May 24th, 1850, and hence was a little more than thirty-nine years -of age at his death. - -In the opinion of many, no more brilliant man has lived since Byron -died. In the power of intense, beautiful and striking expression he has -had no equal among us. Had he turned his attention to poetry he would -have written something as beautiful as Childe Harold. - -Take, for instance, a sentence or two, written eight or ten years ago, -in an article from New York to the _Constitution_, entitled “The -Atheistic Tide.” The whole article is exceptionally brilliant. I select -at random a paragraph or two: - -“We have stripped all the earth of mystery and brought all its phenomena -under the square and compass, so that we might have expected science to -doubt the mystery of life itself, and to plant its theodolite for a -measurement of the Eternal, and pitch its crucible for an analysis of -the Soul. It was natural that the Greek should be led to the worship of -his physical Gods, for the earth itself was a mystery that he could not -divine, a vastness and a vagueness that he could not comprehend. But we -have fathomed its uttermost secret—felt its most hidden pulse, girdled -it with steel, harnessed and trapped it to our liking. What was mystery -is now demonstration—what was vague is now apparent. Science has -dispelled illusion after illusion, struck down error after error, made -plain all that was vague on earth and reduced every mystery to -demonstration. It is little wonder then that, at last, having reduced -all the illusions of matter to an equation, and anchored every theory to -a fixed formula, it should assail the mystery of life itself and warn -the world that science would yet furnish the key to the problem of the -soul. The obelisk, plucked from the heart of Egypt, rests upon a shore -that was as vaguely and infinitely beyond the knowledge or aspiration of -its builders, as the shores of a star that lights the spaces beyond our -vision are to us to-day. The Chinaman jostles us in the streets, and the -centuries that look through his dreamy eyes have lost all sense of -wonder—ships that were freighted in the heart of Africa lie in our -harbors, and our market-places are vocal with more tongues than -bewildered the builders of Babel—a letter slips round the earth in -ninety days and the messages of men flash along the bed of the ocean—we -tell the secrets of the universe as a woman tells her beads, and the -stars whirl serenely through orbits that science has defined—we even -read of the instant when the comet that plunged in dim illimitable -distance, where even the separate stars are lost in mist and vapor, -shall whirl again into the vision of man, a wanderer that could not -shake off the inexorable supervision of science, even in the chill and -measureless depths of the universe.” - -This brilliancy, this dazzling, meteoric imagination, made against his -reputation in the earlier years of his career. The impression got abroad -that he was simply fanciful and superficial—that he could paint his -productions in the gorgeous imagery of poetry, but that he had no great -intellectual strength and force. It took some time to dispel this -illusion. It was only after the great breadth of his mind displayed -itself in his powerful speeches in New York, Dallas, Tex., Augusta, Ga., -and Boston, that the public began to see that, back behind his rich and -brilliant imagination, there was a masterful intellect, able to -comprehend the profoundest questions of social and political policy. - -His development as an orator was indeed phenomenal. Nothing has ever -been known like it since Sheridan quit play-writing to enter the English -House of Commons, and delivered, according to the judgment of Fox and -Burke, the most eloquent oration ever spoken to an English auditory. -Grady’s whole preparation had been in the line of journalism. He had -never practiced at the bar, in the forum, or on the hustings. Yet such -was his genius, that, from the very moment he got before the American -public, he leaped from the base to the very summit of oratorical fame. - -His oratory was _sué generis_. Like all great men he had no prototype. -There was nothing sonorous in his tones of voice—he had nothing of the -declamatory pomp of Toombs, the stately periods of Hill, the slow, -measured cadences of Stephens. Like Mark Antony he talked along; but -such talk—as sweet as the harp of Orpheus whose melody swayed the trees -of the forest and rent asunder the solid rocks. Like a fountain -unsealed, his thought flowed forth in gushing opulence, and in every -rhythmic period his soul voiced itself in perfect music. He could awake -all the sleeping passions of the heart and set them astir with his own -enthusiasm. Like a pendulum, he swung betwixt a smile and a tear, now -convulsing all with his humor and anon melting all with his pathos. - -Added to such brilliant gifts as a writer and a speaker, he had the -genius of common sense. He could project a movement of great practical -interest, and perfect and accomplish it with the same marvellous -facility that he could indite a morning editorial. He saw in our uncut -quarries the marble halls and palaces of the rich—in our mountains of -ore the matchless steam engines and their tracks of steel along which -our growing commerce was to be borne to the distant marts of the -world—in our waving forests of pine, the cities of majestic splendor and -beauty that were to adorn and enrich our vast domain. As Webster said of -Hamilton, in reference to the public credit, he touched the dead corpse -of our industries and they arose and stood upon their feet. - -To all these gifts of head, there was an added heart of boundless -sympathies. In his writings there is always an undertone of sentiment, -bespeaking a moral nature as opulent as was his intellectual endowment. -His imagination caught up the good, the beautiful and the true. With the -alchemy of his genius he could transmute the simplest flower into a -preacher of righteousness, and get from it some lessons of wisdom and -truth. To lift up and crown humanity was the supremest aspiration of his -life. This ruling passion was strong in death, and even in the delirium -preceding dissolution, his brain was rife with its own desiring -phantasies, and he died in the midst of dreams born of yearnings to help -and bless the needy and the heavy laden. - -Perhaps no one has lived among us who possessed more of the elements -which go to make up the hero, the popular idol. Noble in presence, -gracious in manner, gentle in spirit, manly in everything, he commanded -not only the admiration but the love of all. If all who tenderly loved -him could lay a garland upon his grave his ashes would rest beneath a -mountain of flowers. - -To die so wept and mourned were more to be desired than the glittering -honors of splendid obsequies. To live, as he will live, embalmed in the -immortality of love, is better far than enshrinement in the cold -emblazonry of marble. - -Loving hands and hearts will erect to his memory the granite shaft, cut -and chiselled with words of eulogy, but his most enduring monument is -his grand, historic life, standing out imperishably based upon the -affections and the love of a grateful people, and pointing unborn -generations to the same heights of purity and honor he so worthily -attained. - - - -------------- - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - SEARGENT S. PRENTISS AND HENRY W. GRADY. - - _SIMILARITY OF GENIUS AND PATRIOTISM._ - - BY JOSEPH F. PON. - - ------- - -HISTORY repeats itself, and genius does the same. The light which shines -with electric brilliancy in one portion of a country, though suddenly -extinguished, soon blazes forth with life and hope, in genial air and -under propitious skies. - -Eminent in illustration of this truth, is the very great similarity in -the mental structure, the physical temperament and the personal -qualities of Seargent S. Prentiss and Henry W. Grady. The first was born -in bleak and sterile Maine, and yet his great heart was not hemmed in by -the hills around which clung the memories of his Pilgrim fathers. It -took within its spacious chambers, and nurtured in patriotic affection -the new-found friends of his adopted home, in the semi-tropical valleys -of the lower Mississippi. The other was born on Georgia soil, and -Southern traditions, memories and methods of thought seemed but a second -nature with him. It did not prevent his fullness to the brim with that -Promethean flame and “milk of human kindness,” which caused him in -boundless Americanism, to wear a constant smile, born of infinite hope -and faith in the future of a great Republic, stretching from the rugged -coast of Maine to the broad plazas of Texas—from the noble forests of -Oregon to the coral reefs of Florida. - -Each of these men combined with deep research and intuitive perception, -an imagination as luxuriant as a tropical garden, and while each put -forth “thoughts that breathed in words that burned,” he was ever careful -in the exercise of his great gifts, that they should always be directed -in the promotion of human happiness, and to stimulate the loftiest human -exertion. When Prentiss or Grady spoke every listener felt the touch of -the master hand as it played upon his heart-strings—felt the tingling of -the blood in his fingers’ ends, and could not fail to enjoy the -delightful silence of universal and spontaneous admiration. The -eloquence of these two men was not of that school which deals in -thundergusts of word-painting, devoid of reason, sense, or consistency. -Their ideas are always comely, well-proportioned, clear in outline and -yet not angular in structure. They spoke for God and humanity—for -liberty—for love—for law. They did not pervert their great gifts from -the purposes that Nature intended. They used their magic power to smooth -and soften the rough, hard places of human life, to promote all ends and -objects catholic, worthy, commendable—to charm and persuade the morose -and unwilling—to denounce like Nathan—to warn like Cassandra—to -encourage like an angel of light. When either of them spoke, he seemed -to realize the sublimest purpose of his mission; and condensed his giant -electric power, as the heat charges the summer cloud with the bolts that -are soon to flash and shiver. - -Prentiss died in the same year that Grady was born; and when he first -closed his brilliant career at forty-two years of age, the second was -but a smiling infant six weeks old. Each, cut off before he had reached -the zenith, was - - A mighty vessel foundered in the calm, - Its freight half given to the world. - -The glorious sun of each “went down while it was yet day.” - -Some extracts are here given, from an address delivered by Prentiss -before the New England Society of New Orleans, on December 22, 1845. -These will be followed by some from Grady’s Boston speech. Prentiss at -the time named, was about the same age that Grady was when he died. In -opening Prentiss said: “This is a day dear to the sons of New England, -and ever held by them in sacred remembrance. On this day, from every -quarter of the globe, they gather in spirit around the Rock of Plymouth, -and hang upon the urn of their Pilgrim fathers, the garlands of filial -gratitude and affection. We have assembled for the purpose of -participating in this honorable duty—of performing this pious -pilgrimage. To-day we will visit that memorable spot. We gaze upon the -place where a feeble band of persecuted exiles founded a mighty nation; -and our hearts will exult with proud gratification, as we remember that -on that barren shore our ancestors planted not only empire, but freedom. - -“Of the future but little is known; clouds and darkness rest upon it. We -yearn to become acquainted with its hidden secrets—we stretch out our -arms toward its shadowy inhabitants—we invoke our posterity, but they -answer us not. We turn for relief to the past, that mighty reservoir of -men and things. There we are introduced into Nature’s vast laboratory, -and witness her elemental labors. We mark with interest the changes in -continents and oceans, by which she has notched the centuries. With -curious wonder we gaze down the long aisles of the past, upon the -generations that are gone. We behold as in a magic glass, men in form -and feature like ourselves, actuated by the same motives, urged by the -same passions, busily engaged in shaping out both their own destinies -and ours. We approach them, and they refuse not our invocation. We hold -converse with the wise philosophers, the sage legislators, and divine -poets. But most of all among the innumerable multitudes that peopled the -past, we seek our own ancestors, drawn toward them by an irresistible -sympathy. With reverent solicitude we examine into their character and -actions, and as we find them worthy or unworthy, our hearts swell with -pride or our cheeks glow with shame.” - -Speaking of the simplicity of the Pilgrim habits, Prentiss goes on: “In -founding their colony they sought neither wealth nor conquest; but only -peace and freedom. From the moment they touched the shore, they labored -with orderly, systematic and persevering industry. They cultivated, -without a murmur, a poor and ungrateful soil, which even now yields but -a stubborn obedience to the dominion of the plow. They brought with them -neither wealth nor power, but the principles of civil and religious -freedom. They cherished, cultivated and developed them to a full and -luxuriant maturity; and furnished them to their posterity as the only -sure and permanent foundations for free government. We are proud of our -native land, and turn with fond affection to its rocky shores. Behold -the thousand temples of the Most High, that nestle in its happy valleys -and crown its swelling hills. See how their glittering spires pierce the -sky—celestial conductors ready to avert the lightning of an angry -heaven!” - -Himself the son of a ship-builder, he thus speaks of the enterprise of -the Pilgrims: “They have wrestled with Nature, till they have prevailed -against her, and compelled her reluctantly to reverse her own laws. The -sterile soil has become productive under their sagacious culture, and -the barren rock, astonished, finds itself covered with luxuriant and -unaccustomed verdure. Upon the banks of every river they build temples -of industry, and stop the squanderings of the spendthrift waters. They -bind the Naiades of the brawling stream; they drive the Dryades from -their accustomed haunts, and force them to desert each favorite grove: -for from river, creek, and bay they are busy transforming the crude -forests into staunch and gallant vessels. From every inlet and indenture -along the rocky shore, swim forth these ocean-birds—born in the -wildwood—fledged upon the wave. Behold how they spread their white -pinions to the favoring breeze, and wing their flight to every quarter -of the globe—the carrier pigeons of the world!” - -But lastly how brimming with pathos, how pregnant with patriotic ardor, -is the following: “Glorious New England! Thou art still true to thy -ancient fame, and worthy of thy ancestral honors. We thy children have -assembled in this far-distant land to celebrate thy birthday. A thousand -fond associations throng upon us, roused by the spirit of the hour. On -thy pleasant valleys rest, like sweet dews of the morning, the gentle -recollections of our early life; around thy hills and mountains cling -like gathering mists the mighty memories of the Revolution; and far away -on the horizon of the past, gleam like thine own Northern lights, the -awful virtues of our Pilgrim sires. But while we devote this day to the -remembrance of our native land, we forget not that in which our happy -lot is cast. We exult in the reflection that, though we count by -thousands the miles which separate us from our birthplace, still our -country is the same. We have but changed our chamber in the paternal -mansion; in all its rooms we are at home, and all who inhabit it are our -brothers. We are no exiles meeting upon the banks of a foreign river, to -swell its waters with our home-sick tears. Here floats the same banner -which nestled above our boyish heads, except that its mighty folds are -wider, and its glittering stars increased in number.” - -The sound of this eloquent tongue was stilled, but the “divine afflatus” -with which it was tuned was transferred to, and continued in another. -Near the birthplace of the noble Prentiss, and surrounded by those who -were proud of his fame, Grady referred to those surroundings and the -objects of his visit, when he said: “Happy am I that this mission has -brought my feet at last to press New England’s historic soil, and my -eyes to the knowledge of her beauty and her thrift. Here within touch of -Plymouth Rock and Bunker Hill—where Webster thundered and Longfellow -sang, Emerson thought, and Channing preached—here in the cradle of -American letters, and almost of American liberty, I hasten to make the -obeisance that every American owes New England, when first he stands -uncovered in her mighty presence. Strange apparition! This stern and -unique figure, carved from the ocean and the wilderness, its majesty -kindling and growing amid the storms of winters and of wars,—until at -last the gloom was broken, its beauty disclosed in the sunshine, and the -heroic workers rested at its base,—while startled kings and emperors -gazed and marveled that from the rude touch of this handful, cast on a -bleak and unknown shore, should have come the embodied genius of human -government, and the perfected model of human liberty! God bless the -memory of those immortal workers, and prosper the fortunes of their -living sons, and perpetuate the inspiration of their handiwork.” - -Faithful to the memories of his childhood, and to the devotion of his -mature years, visions of his distant home rise to his mental eye, and -with a master’s magic touch he spreads the picture on the glowing -canvas: “Far to the South, Mr. President, separated from this section by -a line once defined in irrepressible difference, once traced in -fratricidal blood, and now, thank God, but a vanishing shadow, lies the -fairest and richest domain of this earth. It is the home of a brave and -hospitable people. There is centered all that can please or prosper -human kind. A perfect climate above a fertile soil, yields to the -husbandman every product of the temperate zone. There, by night, the -cotton whitens beneath the stars, and the wheat locks the sunshine in -its bearded sheaf. In the same field the clover steals the fragrance of -the wind, and the tobacco catches the quick aroma of the rains.” - -In speaking of southern citizenship, and the perils of its present -environment, Grady says: “The resolute, clear-headed, broad-minded men -of the South, the men whose genius made glorious every page of the first -seventy years of American history—whose courage and fortitude you tested -in five years of the fiercest war—whose energy has made bricks without -straw, and spread splendor amidst the ashes of their war-wasted -homes—these men wear this problem in their hearts and their brains, by -day and by night. They realize, as you cannot, what this problem means, -what they owe to this kindly and dependent race, the measure of their -debt to the world in whose despite they defended and maintained slavery. -And though their feet are hindered in its undergrowth, and their march -encumbered with its burdens, they have lost neither the patience from -which comes clearness, nor the faith from which comes courage. Nor, sir, -when in passionate moments is disclosed to them that vague and awful -shadow, with its lurid abysses and its crimson stains, into which I pray -God they may never go, are they struck with more of apprehension than is -needed to complete their consecration!” - -The conclusion of that grand address, so powerful in scope and faultless -in diction, is a forcible reminder of Webster’s great peroration in his -reply to Hayne on Foot’s Resolution. Grady here says: “A mighty duty, -sir, and a mighty inspiration impels every one of us to-night to lose in -patriotic consecration whatever estranges, whatever divides. We, sir, -are Americans, and we fight for human liberty. The uplifting force of -the American idea is under every throne on earth. France, Brazil—these -are our victories. To redeem the earth from kingcraft and oppression, -this is our mission. And we shall not fail. God has sown in our soil the -seed of his millennial harvest, and he will not lay the sickle to the -ripening crop until his full and perfect day has come. Our history, sir, -has been a constant and expanding miracle from Plymouth Rock and -Jamestown, all the way, aye, even from the hour when, from the voiceless -and trackless ocean, a new world rose to the sight of the inspired -sailor. As we approach the fourth centennial of that stupendous day—when -the old world will come to marvel and to learn, amid our gathered -treasures—let us resolve to crown the miracles of our past with the -spectacle of a Republic compact, united, indissoluble in the bonds of -love—loving from the Lakes to the Gulf—the wounds of war healed in every -heart as on every hill, serene and resplendent at the summit of human -achievement and earthly glory, blazing out the path and making clear the -way up which all the nations of the earth must come in God’s appointed -time!” - -The love and respect of the Mississippians and Louisianans, and of the -entire Southwest for Prentiss was only equaled by the admiration of the -North for Grady. All honor to their memories, and peace to their patriot -shades! The “clods of the valley will be sweet unto them” until the -resurrection morn. - -COLUMBUS, GA., Feb. 5, 1890. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - SERMON BY T. DE WITT TALMAGE, - - ------- - -THE great Academy of Music, Brooklyn, N.Y., was crowded to-day, February -23, as it never had been before. Prominent in the congregation were most -of the gentlemen who had attended the banquet of the Southern Society. -Their presence was due to the intimation that Dr. Talmage was going to -preach on the life and character of the _Constitution’s_ late editor, -Mr. Henry W. Grady. Dr. Talmage was at his best, in splendid voice, and -his rounded periods made a deep impression upon all present. Taking for -his text Isaiah viii., 1, “Take thee a great roll, and write in it with -a man’s pen,” the preacher said: - -To Isaiah, with royal blood in his veins and a habitant of palaces, does -this divine order come. He is to take a roll, a large roll, and write on -it with a pen, not an angel’s pen, but a man’s pen. So God honored the -pen and so he honored the manuscript. In our day the mightiest roll is -the religious and secular newspaper, and the mightiest pen is the -editor’s pen, whether for good or evil. And God says now to every -literary man, and especially to every journalist: “Take thee a great -roll and write in it with a man’s pen.” - - - THE NEWS ON THE MEDITERRANEAN. - -Within a few weeks one of the strongest, most vivid and most brilliant -of those pens was laid down on the editorial desk in Atlanta, never -again to be resumed. I was far away at the time. We had been sailing up -from the Mediterranean Sea, through the Dardanelles, which region is -unlike anything I ever saw for beauty. There is not any other water -scenery on earth where God has done so many picturesque things with -islands. They are somewhat like the Thousand Islands of our American St. -Lawrence, but more like heaven. Indeed, we had just passed Patmos, the -place from which John had his apocalyptic vision. Constantinople had -seemed to come out to greet us, for your approach to that city is -different from any other city. Other cities as you approach them seem to -retire, but this city, with its glittering minarets and pinnacles, seems -almost to step into the water to greet you. But my landing there, that -would have been to me an exhilaration, was suddenly stunned with the -tidings of the death of my intimate friend, Henry W. Grady. I could -hardly believe the tidings, for I had left on my study table at home -letters and telegrams from him, those letters and telegrams having a -warmth and geniality, and a wit such as he alone could express. The -departure of no public man for many years has so affected me. For days I -walked about as in a dream, and I resolved that, getting home, I would, -for the sake of his bereaved household, and for the sake of his bereaved -profession, and for the sake of what he had been to me, and shall -continue to be as long as memory lasts, I would speak a word in -appreciation of him, the most promising of Americans, and learn some of -the salient lessons of his departure. - -I have no doubt that he had enemies, for no man can live such an active -life as he lived, or be so far in advance of his time without making -enemies, some because he defeated their projects, and some because he -outshone them. Owls and bats never did like the rising sun. But I shall -tell you how he appeared to me, and I am glad that I told him while he -was in full health what I thought of him. Memorial orations and -gravestone epitaphs are often mean enough, for they say of a man after -he is dead that which ought to have been said of him while living. One -garland for a living brow is worth more than a mountain of japonicas and -calla lilies heaped on a funeral casket. By a little black volume of -fifty pages, containing the eulogiums and poems uttered and written at -the demise of Clay and Webster and Calhoun and Lincoln and Sumner, the -world tried to pay for the forty years of obloquy it heaped upon those -living giants. If I say nothing in praise of a man while he lives I will -keep silent when he is dead. Myrtle and weeping willow can never do what -ought to have been done by amaranth and palm branch. No amount of “Dead -March in Saul” rumbling from big organs at the obsequies can atone for -non-appreciation of the man before he fell on sleep. The hearse cannot -do what ought to have been done by chariot. But there are important -things that need to be said about our friend, who was a prophet in -American journalism, and who only a few years ago heard the command of -my text: “Take thee a great roll, and write in it with a man’s pen.” - - - A RETROSPECT OF LIFE. - -His father dead, Henry W. Grady, a boy fourteen years of age, took up -the battle of life. It would require a long chapter to record the names -of orphans who have come to the top. When God takes away the head of the -household He very often gives to some lad in that household a special -qualification. Christ remembers how that His own father died early, -leaving Him to support Himself and His mother and His brothers in the -carpenter’s shop at Nazareth, and He is in sympathy with all boys and -all young men in the struggle. You say: “Oh, if my father had only lived -I would have had a better education and I would have had a more -promising start, and there are some wrinkles on my brow that would not -have been there.” But I have noticed that God makes a special way for -orphans. You would not have been half the man you are if you had not -been obliged from your early days to fight your own battles. What other -boys got out of Yale and Harvard you got in the university of hard -knocks. Go among successful merchants, lawyers, physicians and men of -all occupations and professions, and there are many of them who will -tell you: “At ten, or twelve, or fifteen years of age, I started for -myself; father was sick, or father was dead.” But somehow they got -through and got up. I account for it by the fact that there is a special -dispensation of God for orphans. All hail, the fatherless and -motherless! The Lord Almighty will see you through. Early obstacles for -Mr. Grady were only the means for development of his intellect and -heart. And lo! when at thirty-nine years of age he put down his pen and -closed his lips for the perpetual silence, he had done a work which many -a man who lives on to sixty and seventy and eighty years never -accomplishes. There is a great deal of senseless praise of longevity, as -though it were a wonderful achievement to live a good while. Ah, my -friends, it is not how long we live, but how well we live and how -usefully we live. A man who lives to eighty years and accomplishes -nothing for God or humanity might better have never lived at all. -Methuselah lived nine hundred and sixty-nine years, and what did it -amount to? In all those more than nine centuries he did not accomplish -anything which seemed worth record. Paul lived only a little more than -sixty, but how many Methuselahs would it take to make one Paul? Who -would not rather have Paul’s sixty years than Methuselah’s nine hundred -and sixty-nine? Robert McCheyne died at thirty years of age and John -Summerfield at twenty-seven years of age, but neither earth nor heaven -will ever hear the end of their usefulness. Longevity! Why, an elephant -can beat you at that, for it lives a hundred and fifty and two hundred -years. Gray hairs are the blossoms of the tree of life if found in the -way of righteousness, but the frosts of the second death if found in the -way of sin. - - - MR. GRADY AS A CHRISTIAN. - -One of our able New York journals last spring printed a question and -sent it to many people, and, among others, to myself: “Can the editor of -a secular journal be a Christian?” Some of the newspapers answered no. I -answered yes; and, lest you may not understand me, I say yes again. -Summer before last, riding with Mr. Grady from a religious meeting in -Georgia on Sunday night, he said to me some things which I now reveal -for the first time, because it is appropriate now that I reveal them. He -expressed his complete faith in the gospel, and expressed his -astonishment and his grief that in our day so many young men were -rejecting Christianity. From the earnestness and the tenderness and the -confidence with which he spoke on these things I concluded that when -Henry W. Grady made public profession of his faith in Christ, and took -his place at the holy communion in the Methodist Church, he was honestly -and truly Christian. That conversation that Sunday night, first in the -carriage and then resumed in the hotel, impressed me in such a way that -when I simply heard of his departure, without any of the particulars, I -concluded that he was ready to go. I warrant there was no fright in the -last exigency, but that he found what is commonly called “the last -enemy” a good friend, and from his home on earth he went to a home in -heaven. Yes, Mr. Grady not only demonstrated that an editor may be a -Christian, but that a very great intellect may be gospelized. His mental -capacity was so wonderful it was almost startling. I have been with him -in active conversation while at the same time he was dictating to a -stenographer editorials for the Atlanta _Constitution_. But that -intellect was not ashamed to bow to Christ. Among his last dying -utterances was a request for the prayers of the churches in his behalf. - -There was that particular quality in him that you do not find in more -than one person out of hundreds of thousands—namely, personal magnetism. -People have tried to define that quality, and always failed, yet we have -all felt its power. There are some persons who have only to enter a room -or step upon a platform or into a pulpit, and you are thrilled by their -presence, and when they speak your nature responds and you cannot help -it. What is the peculiar influence with which such a magnetic person -takes hold of social groups and audiences? Without attempting to define -this, which is indefinable, I will say it seems to correspond to the -waves of air set in motion by the voice or the movements of the body. -Just like that atmospheric vibration is the moral or spiritual vibration -which rolls out from the soul of what we call a magnetic person. As -there may be a cord or rope binding bodies together, there may be an -invisible cord binding souls. A magnetic man throws it over others as a -hunter throws a lasso. Mr. Grady was surcharged with this influence, and -it was employed for patriotism and Christianity and elevated purposes. - - - GREAT MEN MAY BE CHRISTIANS. - -You may not know why, in the conversation which I had with Mr. Gladstone -a few weeks ago, he uttered these memorable words about Christianity, -some of which were cabled to America. He was speaking in reply to this -remark: I said: “Mr. Gladstone, we are told in America by some people -that Christianity does very well for weak-minded men and children in the -infant class, but it is not fit for stronger minded men; but when we -mention you, of such large intellectuality, as being a pronounced friend -of religion, we silence their batteries.” Then Mr. Gladstone stopped on -the hillside where we were exercising, and said: “The older I grow, the -more confirmed I am in my faith in religion.” “Sir,” said he, with -flashing eye and uplifted hand, “talk about the questions of the day, -there is but one question, and that is the Gospel. That can and will -correct everything. Do you have any of that dreadful agnosticism in -America?” Having told him we had, he went on to say: “I am profoundly -thankful that none of my children or kindred have been blasted by it. I -am glad to say that about all the men at the top in Great Britain are -Christians. Why, sir,” he said, “I have been in public position -fifty-eight years, and forty-seven years in the cabinet of the British -government, and during those forty-seven years I have been associated -with sixty of the master minds of the century, and all but five of the -sixty were Christians.” He then named the four leading physicians and -surgeons of his country, calling them by name and remarking upon the -high qualities of each of them and added: “They are all thoroughly -Christian.” My friends, I think it will be quite respectable for a -little longer to be the friends of religion. William E. Gladstone, a -Christian; Henry W. Grady, a Christian. What the greatest of Englishmen -said of England is true of America and of all Christendom. The men at -the top are the friends of God and believers in the sanctities of -religion, the most eminent of the doctors, the most eminent of the -lawyers, the most eminent of the merchants, and there are no better men -in all our land than some of those who sit in editorial chairs. And if -that does not correspond with your acquaintanceship, I am sorry that you -have fallen into bad company. In answer to the question put last spring, -“Can a secular journalist be a Christian?” I not only answer in the -affirmative, but I assert that so great are the responsibilities of that -profession, so infinite and eternal the consequences of their obedience -or disobedience of the words of my text, “Take thee a great roll and -write in it with a man’s pen,” and so many are the surrounding -temptations, that the men of no other profession more deeply need the -defenses and the reinforcements of the grace of God. - - - THE OPPORTUNITIES OF JOURNALISM. - -And then look at the opportunities of journalism. I praise the pulpit -and magnify my office, but I state a fact which you all know when I say -that where the pulpit touches one person the press touches five hundred. -The vast majority of people do not go to church, but all intelligent -people read the newspapers. While, therefore, the responsibility of the -minister is great, the responsibilities of editors and reporters is -greater. Come, brother journalist, and get your ordination, not by the -laying on of human hands, but by the laying on of the hands of the -Almighty. To you is committed the precious reputation of men and the -more precious reputation of women. Spread before our children an -elevated literature. Make sin appear disgusting and virtue admirable. -Believe good rather than evil. While you show up the hypocrisies of the -church, show up the stupendous hypocrisies outside of the church. Be -not, as some of you are, the mere echoes of public opinion; make public -opinion. Let the great roll on which you write with a man’s pen be a -message of light and liberty, and kindness and an awakening of moral -power. But who is sufficient for these things! Not one of you without -Divine help. But get that influence and the editors and reporters can go -up and take this world for God and the truth. The mightiest opportunity -in all the world for usefulness to-day is open before editors and -reporters and publishers, whether of knowledge on foot, as in the book, -or knowledge on the wing, as in the newspaper; I pray God, men of the -newspaper press, whether you hear or read this sermon, that you may rise -up to your full opportunity and that you may be divinely helped and -rescued and blessed. - -Some one might say to me: “How can you talk thus of the newspaper press -when you yourself have sometimes been unfairly treated and -misrepresented?” I answer that in the opportunity the newspaper press of -this country and other countries have given me week by week to preach -the gospel to the nations, I am put under so much obligation that I defy -all editors and reporters, the world over, to write anything that shall -call forth from me one word of bitter retort from now till the day of my -death. My opinion is that all reformers and religious teachers, instead -of spending so much time and energy in denouncing the press, had better -spend more time in thanking them for what they have done for the world’s -intelligence, and declaring their magnificent opportunity and urging -their employment of it all for beneficent and righteous purposes. - - - A TYPE OF CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM. - -Again, I remark that Henry W. Grady stood for Christian patriotism -irrespective of political spoils. He declined all official reward. He -could have been Governor of Georgia, but refused it. He could have been -Senator of the United States, but declined it. He remained plain Henry -Grady. Nearly all the other orators of the political arena, as soon as -the elections are over, go to Washington, or Albany, or Harrisburg, or -Atlanta, to get in city or state or national office, reward for their -services, and not getting what they want spend the rest of the time of -that administration in pouting about the management of public affairs or -cursing Harrison or Cleveland. When the great political campaigns were -over Mr. Grady went home to his newspaper. He demonstrated that it is -possible to toil for principles which he thought to be right, simply -because they were right. Christian patriotism is too rare a commodity in -this country. Surely the joy of living under such free institutions as -those established here ought to be enough reward for political fidelity. -Among all the great writers that stood at the last Presidential election -on Democratic and Republican platforms, you cannot recall in your mind -ten who were not themselves looking for remunerative appointments. Aye, -you can count them all on the fingers of one hand. The most illustrious -specimen of that style of man for the last ten years was Henry W. Grady. - -Again, Mr. Grady stood for the New South, and was just what we want to -meet three other men, one to speak for the New North, another for the -New East, and another for the New West. The bravest speech made for the -last quarter of a century was that made by Mr. Grady at the New England -dinner in New York about two or three years ago. I sat with him that -evening and know something of his anxieties, for he was to tread on -dangerous ground, and might by one misspoken word have antagonized both -sections. His speech was a victory that thrilled all of us who heard him -and all who read him. That speech, great for wisdom, great for kindness, -great for pacification, great for bravery, will go down to the -generations with Webster’s speech at Bunker Hill, William Wirt’s speech -at the arraignment of Aaron Burr, Edmund Burke’s speech on Warren -Hastings, Robert Emmett’s speech for his own vindication. - -Who will in conspicuous action represent the New North as he did the New -South? Who will come forth for the New East and who for the New West? -Let old political issues be buried, let old grudges die. Let new -theories be launched. With the coming in of a new nation at the gates of -Castle Garden every year, and the wheat bin and corn crib of our land -enlarged with every harvest, and a vast multitude of our population -still plunged in illiteracy to be educated, and moral questions abroad -involving the very existence of our Republic, let the old political -platforms that are worm-eaten be dropped, and platforms that shall be -made of two planks, the one the Ten Commandments, and the other the -Sermon on the Mount, lifted for all of us to stand on. But there is a -lot of old politicians grumbling all around the sky who don’t want a New -South, a New North, a New East, or a New West. They have some old war -speeches that they prepared in 1861, that in all our autumnal elections -they feel called upon to inflict upon the country. They growl louder and -louder in proportion as they are pushed back further and further and the -Henry W. Gradys come to the front. But the mandate, I think, has gone -forth from the throne of God that a new American Nation shall take the -place of the old, and the new has been baptized for God and liberty, and -justice and peace and morality and religion. - - - THE APOTHEOSIS. - -And now our much lamented friend has gone to give account. Suddenly the -facile and potent pen is laid down and the eloquent tongue is silent. -What? Is there no safeguard against fatal disease? The impersonation of -stout health was Mr. Grady. What compactness of muscle! What ruddy -complexion! What flashing eye! Standing with him in a group of twenty or -thirty persons at Piedmont, he looked the healthiest, as his spirits -were the blithest. Shall we never feel again the hearty grasp of his -hand or be magnetized with his eloquence? Men of the great roll, men of -the pen, men of wit, men of power, if our friend had to go when the call -came, so must you when your call comes. When God asks you what have you -done with your pen, or your eloquence, or your wealth, or your social -position, will you be able to give satisfactory answer? What have we -been writing all these years? If mirth, has it been innocent mirth, or -that which tears and stings and lacerates? From our pen have there come -forth productions healthy or poisonous! In the last great day, when the -warrior must give account of what he has done with his sword, and the -merchant what he has done with his yard stick, and the mason what he has -done with his trowel, and the artist what he has done with his pencil, -we shall have to give account of what we have done with our pen. There -are gold pens and diamond pens, and pens of exquisite manufacture, and -every few weeks I see some new kind of pen, each said to be better than -the other; but in the great day of our arraignment before the Judge of -the quick and dead, that will be the most beautiful pen, whether gold or -steel or quill, which never wrote a profane or unclean or cruel word, or -which from the day it was carved or split at the nib, dropped from its -point kindness and encouragement, and help and gratitude to God and -benediction for man. - -May God comfort that torn up Southern home, and all the homes of this -country, and of all the world, which have been swept by this plague of -influenza, which has deepened sometimes into pneumonia and sometimes -into typhus, and the victims of which are counted by the ten thousand, -Satan, who is the “prince of the power of the air,” has been poisoning -the atmosphere in all nations. Though it is the first time in our -remembrance, he has done the same thing before. In 1696 the unwholesome -air of Cairo, Egypt, destroyed the life of ten thousand in one day, and -in Constantinople in 1714 three hundred thousand people died of it. I am -glad that by the better sanitation of our cities and wider understanding -of hygienic laws and the greater skill of physicians these Apollyonic -assaults upon the human race are being resisted, but pestilential -atmosphere is still abroad. Hardly a family here but has felt its -lighter or heavier touch. Some of the best of my flock fell under its -power and many homes here represented have been crushed. The fact is the -biggest failure in the universe is this world, if there be no heaven -beyond. But there is, and the friends who have gone there are many, and -very dear. Oh, tearful eyes, look up to the hills crimsoning with -eternal morn! That reunion kiss will more than make up for the parting -kiss, and the welcome will obliterate the good-by. “The Lamb which is in -the midst of the throne shall lead them to living fountains of water and -God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.” Till then, O departed -loved ones, promise us that you will remember us, as we promise to -remember you. And some of you gone up from this city by the sea, and -others from under southern skies and others from the homes of the more -rigorous North and some from the cabins on great western farms, we shall -meet again when our pen has written its last word and our arm has done -its last day’s work and our lips have spoken their last adieu. - -And now, thou great and magnificent soul of editor and orator! under -brighter skies we shall meet again. From God thou camest, and to God -thou hast returned. Not broken down, but ascended. Not collapsed, but -irradiated. Enthroned one! Coroneted one! Sceptered one! Emparadised -one! Hail and farewell! - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRIBUTES - - OF THE - - NORTHERN PRESS. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - HE WAS THE EMBODIMENT OF THE SPIRIT OF THE NEW SOUTH. - - ------- - - _From the “New York World.”_ - -AS the soldier falls upon the battle-field in the line of duty, so died -Henry Woodfin Grady, the progressive editor of the Atlanta -_Constitution_. Mr. Grady came to the North twelve days ago, with his -fatal illness upon him, against the entreaties of his family, to speak a -word for the South, to the mind and conscience of New England. He -performed his task in splendid spirit, and with the effective and moving -eloquence that were always his, and then returned home to die. It is -highly probable that if he had not gone to Boston he would be living and -writing to-day. It is as more than a journalist or an orator, that Mr. -Grady is to be counted. He was admirable as both, but he was more than a -Southerner, a peacemaker between the sections. He was intensely -Southern, filled full of all the traditions of his people, proud of them -and their past, but he accepted the new order with the magnificent -enthusiasm of his intense nature, and became the embodiment of the -spirit of the New South. More than any other man of this section, he had -the ear of the people of the North. They believed the patriotic -assurances which he made in behalf of his people, because they knew him -to be honest and sincere and thoroughly devoted to all that makes for -the best in public affairs. His influence in Atlanta and throughout the -South was deservedly great. No Southerner could have been so ill-spared -as this young man, whose future only a day or two ago seemed brilliant -to a degree. His death is a wonderfully great bereavement, and not only -to his family and the community in which he lived and labored, but the -whole country, whose peace and unity and kindly sentiment he did so much -to promote. - - - A THOROUGHLY AMERICAN JOURNALIST. - - ------- - - _From the “New York Herald.”_ - -MR. GRADY’S death will be deeply and justly regretted all over the -country. He had, though still a young man, made for himself a national -reputation, and by his steadfast counsels for peace and good will, and -by his intelligent devotion to the development of his State and of the -South, had won the good will of North and South alike. - -It is seldom that so good a journalist is at the same time so brilliant -and effective an orator as Mr. Grady was. The reason probably is that -when he spoke he had something to say, and that he was of so cheerful -and hopeful a spirit that he was able to affect his hearers with his own -optimism. In that he was a thorough American, for, as one of the -shrewdest New Yorkers once said, “This is a bull country, and the bears -have the wrong philosophy for the American people.” - -For that training which made him not only a brilliant and successful, -but, what is better, a broadly intelligent and useful journalist, the -_Herald_ claims a not inconsiderable share of credit, which Mr. Grady -himself was accustomed to give it. The _Herald_ was his early and best -school. As a correspondent of this journal he first made his mark by the -fearless accuracy of his reports of some exciting scenes in the -reconstruction period. He showed in those days so keen an eye as an -observer, united with such rapid and just judgment of the bearings of -facts, that his reports in the _Herald_ attracted general attention and -were recognized freely, even by those whom they inconvenienced, as the -clearest, the most truthful, and the most just reports made of those -events. He was then still a very young man; but he quickly saw that the -province of a newspaper, and of a reporter of events for it, is to tell -the exact truth, to tell it simply and straightforwardly, and without -fear, favor or prejudice. This is what he learned from his connection -with the _Herald_, and this lesson he carried into his own able journal, -the Atlanta _Constitution_. - -It does not often happen that so young a man as Mr. Grady was makes so -great and widespread a reputation, and this without any of the tricks of -self-puffery which are the cheap resort of too many young men ambitious -of fame, or what they mistake for fame—notoriety. - -In Mr. Grady’s untimely death the country loses one of its foremost and -most clear-headed journalists, and his State one of its most eminent and -justly admired citizens. - - - ------------------ - - - A LOSS TO THE WHOLE COUNTRY. - - ------- - - _From the “New York Tribune.”_ - -THE death of Henry Grady is a loss to the whole country, but there is -some consolation in the general recognition of this fact. During his -brief career as a public man he has said many things that it was -profitable for both North and South to hear, and he has said them in -such a way as to enhance their significance. As editor of one of the few -widely influential papers of the South, he possessed an opportunity, -which he had also in great measure created, of impressing his opinions -upon Southern society, but it was to a few occasional addresses in -Northern cities that he chiefly owed his national reputation. His -rhetorical gifts were not of the highest order, but he had command of a -style of speaking which was most effective for his purposes. It was -marked by the Celtic characteristic of exuberance, but it was so -agreeable and inspiring that he was able to command at will audiences at -home and abroad. When so endowed he has also a significant message to -deliver, and is, moreover, animated by a sincere desire to serve his -generation to the full measure of his ability, the loss which his death -inflicts is not easily repaired. The whole country will unite in -deploring the sudden extinction of a faithful life. Mr. Grady’s zeal, -activity and patriotism were fully recognized in the North, as we have -said, but yet it was pre-eminently to his own people that he was an -example and inspiration. His loyalty to the cause in which his father -fell was untinged with bitterness, and he never permitted himself to -imagine that vain regrets were more sacred than present obligations. He -was an admirable illustration of that sagacious and progressive spirit -which is gradually, but surely, renewing the South, and which, though it -still lacks something of being altogether equal to its opportunities, -does nevertheless recognize the fact that “new occasions teach new -duties, time makes ancient good uncouth.” - - - ------------------ - - - WHAT HENRY W. GRADY REPRESENTED. - - ------- - - _From the “New York Commercial Advertiser.”_ - -WHAT undoubtedly interested and fascinated people most in the late Henry -W. Grady was the fact that he represented an order of genius now almost -extinct in our country, and yet one in which some of the favorite -episodes of its history are entwined. The orator who appealed at once to -the reason and the feelings was beyond question the foremost power of -our early national century of history. He was not predominant in the -councils which founded our government, nor in the first decade of its -administration; because the duties of that period called for the calm -deliberations of statesmen rather than the arousing of voters to action. -As this era of national infancy drew to its close, and the gigantic -problems, destined at a later day to involve the nation in civil war, -came forth into sudden prominence, the orator became the central figure -of the national stage. The rank and file gave their allegiance to their -chosen oratorical leader. He spoke in their behalf in Congress; he -defined in all political gatherings the will and purposes of his -constituents; and not less powerfully was his influence exerted to shape -those opinions and purposes. Indeed, the speeches of Clay, Calhoun and -Webster, and at a later day of Douglas and Lincoln, are better -understood when regarded as shaping public opinion than as following the -popular will already formed. The speeches of these leaders supplied the -need which is now met by the newspaper editorial in journals of -influence and public spirit. Like the newspaper of this later day, the -American orator of half a century ago was quick to note a change in the -trend of public sentiment, and at his best fearless in leading the -movement even before the popular mind had given assent. - -The civil war brought to a close the epoch in which flourished this -interesting and impressive figure of our earlier politics. To-day, -partly because of the greater diffusion of news and intelligence, partly -by reason of the more technical and analytical character of the national -problems which confront us, he has quite disappeared from the political -stage. One need only recall the congressional or campaign speeches of -our ablest public speakers to appreciate the truth of this. It was Mr. -Grady’s good fortune that he, equipped with the keen insight and fervid -eloquence of our old public leaders, was placed in an epoch and a -community where the reconciling of the North and the South called for -just these powers. Presently, when the wave of closer commercial -intercourse and the better mutual understanding shall have swept with -unprecedented rapidity over the whole nation, the feelings which made -such mediation necessary will be quite dead. But the work of the men who -led the way is not likely to be forgotten. - - - -------------- - - - A FAR-SIGHTED STATESMAN. - - ------- - - _From the “New York Star.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady is a very much greater national loss than -the public will at first concede; and while his death will be regretted, -not only by the Democracy of the country, but by all patriotic citizens, -few will recognize that he was one of the few prominent young men, who -were children during the War, who labored to obliterate absolutely the -animosity it engendered. We believe that if the circumstance of his -prominent position had not silenced Jefferson Davis, who died almost -simultaneously with this youth, he, too, would have been found -advocating the truth that the Union of these States is homogeneous, and -that Union is worth all the sacrifices it cost. - -The young Atlanta editor has, during the past few years, done as much as -any other public man toward the accomplishment of perfect reunion and -for the prosperity of his State and section. His later addresses had -been specially characterized by a broad grasp of political and -industrial problems that entitled him to high rank as an accomplished -and far-sighted statesman. - -There have been few more interesting personalities in the life of the -country in the past decade, and there was no man of his years with -brighter prospects than Grady at the time of his last visit to the -North, which will be memorable as the occasion of his most comprehensive -and effective address on his constant theme of American prosperity -through fraternity. - - - ------------------ - - - AN APOSTLE OF THE NEW FAITH. - - ------- - - _From the “New York Times.”_ - -FEW men who have never entered the public service were more widely known -throughout the country than Henry W. Grady, who died at Atlanta, and the -death of only a few even of those who have won the honors and the -prominence of public life would be more sincerely deplored. Ten years -ago Mr. Grady had made himself known in the South by the fervency of his -devotion to her interests and by the unusual ability he displayed in his -newspaper work, and the people of the South met his devotion with -characteristic warmth of affection and generosity of praise. A little -later he was recognized in the North as an eloquent interpreter of the -new spirit which had awakened and possessed the South. His speech at the -dinner of the New England Society three years ago was only an expression -from a more conspicuous platform of the sentiments which had long -inspired his daily writing. And it was not merely as an interpreter of -Southern feeling that Mr. Grady was entitled to recognition. In a large -measure he was the creator of the spirit that now animates the South. He -was an apostle of the new faith. He exhorted the people of the Southern -States to concern themselves no longer about what they had lost, but to -busy themselves with what they might find to do, to consecrate the -memories of the war if they would, but to put the whole strength of -their minds and bodies into the building up of the New South. To his -teaching and his example, as much as to any other single influence -perhaps, the South owes the impulses of material advancement, of -downright hard work, and that well-nigh complete reconciliation to the -conditions and duties of the present and the future that distinguish her -to-day. - - - ------------------ - - - THE FOREMOST LEADER. - - ------- - - _From the “New York Christian Union.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady, at Atlanta, on Monday of this week, was a -loss, not only to his own section, but to the country. Although a young -man, and not in political life, Mr. Grady had already acquired a -national reputation. It is only three years since he delivered the -speech at the New England dinner in this city, which gave a sudden -expansion to a reputation already rapidly extending, and made his name -known in every State in the Union. Mr. Grady was a typical Southern man, -ardent in his love for his own section, loyal to the memory of those who -fought in the struggle of a quarter of a century ago, but equally loyal -to the duties and the nation of to-day. Warm-hearted, generous, and of a -fervid imagination, Mr. Grady’s oratory recalled the best traditions of -the Southern style; and the sincerity and geniality of his nature evoked -the confidence and regard of his audience, while his eloquence thrilled -them. His latest speech was delivered in Boston two weeks ago, on the -race question, and was one of those rare addresses which carry with them -an immediate broadening of the views of every auditor. Among the men of -his own section Mr. Grady was probably the foremost leader of -progressive ideas, and his death becomes for that reason a national -loss. - - - ------------------ - - - A GLORIOUS MISSION. - - ------- - - _From the Albany, N.Y., “Argus.”_ - -ALL who admire true patriotism, brilliant talents, golden eloquence and -ripe judgment, will regret the untimely taking off of the gifted -Southern journalist and orator, Henry W. Grady, in the very zenith of -his powers and fame. His eloquent address at the annual banquet of the -Boston Merchants’ Association is still fresh in the minds of those who -listened to him or read his glowing words in the columns of the press. -It was the last and grandest effort of the brilliant young Southerner. -It was the defense of his beloved South against the calumnies cast upon -her, and the most lucid, convincing exposition of the race question ever -presented at a public assemblage. Impassioned and heartfelt was his plea -for Union and the abandonment of all sectionalism. These closing words -of his address might fitly be inscribed upon his tomb: “Let us resolve -to crown the miracles of our past with the spectacle of a Republic, -compact, united, indissoluble in the bonds of love—loving from the Lakes -to the Gulf—the wounds of war healed in every heart as on every -hill—serene and resplendent at the summit of human achievement and -earthly glory—blazing out the path, and making clear the way up which -all the nations of the earth must come in God’s appointed time.” The -words were all the more emphatic and convincing because they were spoken -in the presence of an ex-president whose entire administration had been -consecrated to such a Union of all sections, and who accomplished more -in the grand work of obliterating the last traces of sectional strife -and division than any other man who sat in the national executive chair. - -Well may the South mourn over this fervid advocate of her honor, her -rights, her interests, and regard his death a public calamity. Eloquence -such as his is rarely given to men, and it was devoted wholly to his -beloved land. It has done more to break down the barriers of prejudice -and passion than a decade of homilies, dry arguments and elaborate -statistics could effect. His was a most glorious mission, the bringing -together in the closest bonds of fraternal love and confidence the -sections which partisan malice, political selfishness and unconscionable -malignity would keep apart. Whenever he spoke, the earnestness of his -convictions, expressed in the noblest language, impressed itself upon -the intelligence of his hearers. His last appeal, made, as he described -it, “within touch of Plymouth Rock and Bunker Hill, where Webster -thundered and Longfellow sang, and Emerson thought and Channing -preached,” melted away the most hardened prejudice and enkindled in the -New England heart the spirit of respect and sympathy for the brave, -single-minded people of the South, who are so patiently and determinedly -working out their destiny to make their beautiful land the abode of -unalloyed peace and prosperity. Journalism will also mourn the loss of -one of its brightest representatives. Henry W. Grady shone in the -columns of his newspaper, the Atlanta _Constitution_, with no less -brilliancy than he did as an orator. Under his guidance that paper has -become one of the brightest in the land. It will be difficult for the -South to supply his place as patriot, journalist and orator. He was an -effective foil to the Eliza Pinkston class of statesmen in and out of -Congress. - - - ------------------ - - - HIS LOFTY IDEAL. - - ------- - - _From the “Philadelphia Press.”_ - -FEW men die at thirty-eight whose departure is felt as a national loss, -but Henry W. Grady was one. At an age when most men are just beginning -to be known in their own States and to be recognized in their own -section, he was known to the nation and recognized by the American -people. At the South he represented the new pride in the material -revival of a section desolated by the war. At the North he stood for -loyal and enthusiastic support by the South of the new claims of the -Union. His every appearance before the public was one more proof to the -nation that the sons of those who fought the war were again one people -and under one flag, cherishing different memories in the past, but -pressing forward to the same lofty ideal of a homogeneous democratic -society under republican institutions. - -If Henry W. Grady spoke at the North he spoke for the South; if he spoke -at the South he stood for Northern ideas in his own land. He was none -the less true in both attitudes that his utterances were insensibly -modified by his audiences. Eloquent, magnetic, impressionable, sharing -to the full the sympathy every great speaker always has with his -audience, his sentiment swung from extreme to extreme as he stood on a -Northern or a Southern platform. It was always easy to pick flaws in -them. Now and then his rhetorical sympathies placed him in a false -position. But it was the inevitable condition of work like his that he -should express extremes. If he had not felt and voiced the pride with -which every Southerner must and should look back to the deathless valor -of men we all rejoice to claim as Americans, he would have been -worthless as a representative of the South. If he had not thrilled -earlier than his fellows to the splendid national heritage with which -defeat had dowered his people, he could never have awakened the applause -of Northern audiences by expressions of loyalty and devotion to our -common nation. - -This service to both sections sprang from something more than sympathy. -A moral courage Northern men can little understand was needed for him to -oppose Southern treatment of the negro. Energy and industry, unknown -among his fellows, were needed in the leadership he undertook in the -material development of his State and section. It is easy now to see the -enormous profit which lay in the material development of Georgia. -Far-sighted provision was needed to urge the policy and aid the -combination which made it possible ten years ago. - -No one but a journalist, we are proud to say, could have done Mr. -Grady’s work, and he brought to the work of journalism some of its -highest qualifications. Ability as a writer, keen appreciation of -“news,” and tireless industry, which he had, must all be held second to -the power he possessed in an eminent degree of divining the drift and -tendency of public feeling, being neither too early to lead it nor too -late to control it. This divination Mr. Grady was daily displaying and -he never made better use of it than in his last speech in Boston, the -best of his life, in which he rose from mere rhetoric to a clear, -earnest and convincing handling of fact. A great future was before him, -all too soon cut off. He leaves to all journalists the inspiring example -of the great opportunities which their profession offers to serve the -progress of men and aid the advance of nations, by speaking to the -present of the bright and radiant light of the future, and rising above -the claims of party and the prejudice of locality to advocate the higher -claims of patriotism and humanity. - - - ------------------ - - - HIS PATRIOTISM. - - ------- - - _From the “Philadelphia Ledger.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady, which occurred almost at the dawning of -this beneficent Christmas time, did not “eclipse the gayety of nations,” -as it was long ago said the death of another illustrious person did, but -it still casts a shadow over his native land—a shadow which falls -heavily upon all those of his countrymen who knew, honored and loved the -man. - -Henry W. Grady was one of the youngest, the most brilliant, the best -beloved of the young men of his country who, since the war of secession, -won distinction in public life. Whether considered as a writer or an -orator, his talents were extraordinary. His language was strong, -refined, and, in its poetic warmth and elegance, singularly beautiful. -But that which gave to it its greatest value and charm was the wisdom of -the thought, the sincerity of the high conscience of which it was the -expression. It was given to him as it is to so few—the ability to wed -noble thoughts to noble words—to make the pen more convincing than the -sword in argument, to make the tongue proclaim “the Veritas that lurks -beneath the letter’s unprolific sheath.” - -Henry W. Grady was, in the truest sense, an American; his love of -country, his unselfish devotion to it, were unquestioned and -unquestionable; but he sought to serve it best by best serving the -South, which he so greatly loved and which so loved and honored him. It -was the New South of human freedom, material progress—not the Old South -of chattel slavery and material sluggishness—of which he was the -representative, the prophet. It was the South of to-day, which has put -off the bitternesses, defeats and animosities of the war; which has put -on the sentient spirit of real union, of marvelous physical development, -which advances day by day to wealth, dignity and greatness by gigantic -strides. This was the South that he glorified with pen and tongue, and -which he sought with earnest, zealous love to bring into closer, warmer -fraternity with the North and the North with it. - -The story of the shield which hung in the forest, and which, to the -traveler coming from the North, seemed to be made of gold, and to the -traveler journeying from the South, to be made of silver, is an old one. -But it has its new significance in every great matter to which there are -two sides, and which is looked at by those approaching it from different -directions from their respective points of view. He saw but one side of -the race question—the Southern side, and for that he strenuously -contended only a few days before his death, in the very shadow of -Faneuil Hall, or, as he finely said: “Here, within touch of Plymouth -Rock and Bunker Hill—where Webster thundered and Longfellow sang, -Emerson thought and Channing preached—here, in the cradle of American -letters and of American liberty.” It was in the house of his antagonists -that he fought for the side which he thought good and just, and if in -doing so he did not convince, he was listened to with respect and -admiration. - -That is a question not to be discussed here and now, and it is referred -to only to show the courage of Mr. Grady in defence of his convictions, -for they were convictions, and honest ones, and not mere political or -sectional opinions. Apart from the race question, Mr. Grady was a man of -peace, who, whether writing in his own influential journal in the South, -or speaking in Boston, his tongue and voice were alike for peace, good -will, unity of interest, thought and feeling. In his address of the 13th -instant, at the Boston banquet, Mr. Grady said: - -“A mighty duty, sir, a mighty inspiration impels every one of us -to-night to lose in patriotic consecration whatever estranges, whatever -divides. We, sir, are Americans, and we stand for human liberty! The -uplifting force of the American idea is under every throne on earth. -France, Brazil—these are our victories. To redeem the earth from -kingcraft and oppression, this is our mission! And we shall not fail. -God has sown in our soil the seed of His millennial harvest, and He will -not lay the sickle to the ripening crop until His full and perfect day -has come. Our history, sir, has been a constant and expanding miracle -from Plymouth Rock and Jamestown all the way—aye, even from the hour -when, from the voiceless and trackless ocean, a new world rose to the -sight of the inspired sailor. As we approach the fourth centennial of -that stupendous day—when the Old World will come to marvel and to learn, -amid our gathered treasures—let us resolve to crown the miracles of our -past with the spectacle of a republic, compact, united, indissoluble in -the bonds of love—loving from the Lakes to the Gulf—the wounds of war -healed in every heart as on every hill—serene and resplendent at the -summit of human achievement and earthly glory—blazing out the path and -making clear the way up which all the nations of the earth must come in -God’s appointed time.” - -The fine expression of these lofty sentiments shows the eloquence of the -man, but, better than that, they themselves show the broad and noble -spirit of his patriotism. And the man that his countrymen so admired and -honored is dead, his usefulness ended, his voice silent, his pen idle -forever, and he so young. There are no accidents, said Charles Sumner, -in the economy of Providence; nor are there. The death of Henry W. -Grady, which seems so premature, is yet part of the inscrutable design -the perfectness of which may not be questioned, and out of it good will -come which is now hidden. He was of those great spirits of whom Lowell -sang: - - “We find in our dull road their shining track; - In every noble mood - We feel the Orient of their spirit glow, - Part of our life’s unalterable good, - Of all our saintlier aspirations!” - -He was of those who even through death do good, and so posthumously work -out the economy of Providence, for - - “As thrills of long-hushed tone - Live in the viol, so our souls grow fine - With keen vibrations from the touch divine - Of Nobler natures gone.” - - - ------------------ - - - ORATORY AND THE PRESS. - - ------- - - _From the “Boston Advertiser.”_ - -THE lamented death of Mr. H. W. Grady affords a fit occasion for saying -that oratory is not one of “the lost arts.” A great deal is said from -time to time about the decadence of oratory as caused by the competition -of the press. We are told that public address is held in slight esteem -because the public prints are much more accessible and equally -interesting. It is said that this operates in two ways, that the man who -has something to say will always prefer to write rather than speak, -because the printed page reaches tens of thousands, while the human -voice can at most be heard by a few hundreds, and that not many people -will take the trouble to attend a lecture when they can read discussions -of the same subject by the lecturer himself, or others equally -competent, without stirring from the evening lamp or exchanging slippers -for boots. But there is a great deal of fallacy in such arguments. The -press is the ally, not the supplanter of the platform. The functions of -the two are so distinct that they cannot clash, yet so related that they -are mutually helpful. Oratory is very much more than the vocal -utterance, of fitting words. One of the ancients defined the three -requisites of an orator as first, action; second, action; and third, -action. If by action is meant all that accompanies speech, as gesture, -emphasis, intonation, variety in time, and those subtle expressions that -come through the flushing cheek and the gleaming eye, the enumeration -was complete. Mr. Grady spoke with his lips not only, but with every -form and feature of his bodily presence. Such oratory as his, and such -as that of the man whose lecture on “The Lost Arts” proved that oratory -is not one of them, will never be out of date while human nature remains -what it is. There is, indeed, one class of public speakers whose -occupation the press has nearly taken away. They are the “orators,” -falsely so called, whose speech is full of sound and fury, signifying -nothing. Cold type is fatal to their pretensions. - - - ------------------ - - - THE LESSON OF MR. GRADY’S LIFE. - - ------- - - _From the “Philadelphia Times.”_ - -HENRY W. GRADY is dead, but the lesson of his life will live and bear -fruits for years to come. The young men of the South will not fail to -note that the public journals of every faith in the North have discussed -his life and death in the sincerest sympathy, and that not only his -ability but his candor and courage have elicited universal commendation. -Had Mr. Grady been anything less than a sincere Southerner in sympathy -and conviction, he could have commanded the regulation praise of party -organs in political conflicts, but he would have died little regretted -in either section. He was a true son of the South; faithful to its -interests, to its convictions, to its traditions; and he proved how -plain was the way for the honest Southerner to be an honest patriot and -a devoted supporter of the Union. - -There are scores of men in the South, or who have lived there, and who -have filled the highest public trusts within the gifts of their States, -without commanding the sympathy or respect of any section of the -country. Of the South, they were not in sympathy with their people or -interests, and they have played their brief and accidental parts only to -be forgotten when their work was done. They did not speak for the South; -they were instruments of discord rather than of tranquility, and they -left no impress upon the convictions or pulsations of either section. - -But Mr. Grady was a true, able, candid, courageous son of the South, and -he was as much respected under the shadows of Bunker Hill as in Georgia. -Sincerely Southern in every sympathy, he was welcomed North and South as -a patriot; and long after the Mahones and the Chalmers shall have been -charitably forgotten, the name of Grady will be fresh in the greenest -memories of the whole people of the country. - -There is no better lesson for the young men of the South to study than -the life, the aims and the efforts of Mr. Grady and the universal -gratitude he commanded from every section. He was beloved in the South, -where his noble qualities were commonly known, but he was respected in -the North as an honest Southerner, who knew how to be true to his -birthright and true to the Republic. The Northern press of every shade -of political conviction has united in generous tribute to the young -patriot of Georgia, and if his death shall widen and deepen the -appreciation of his achievement among the young men of the South who -must soon be the actors of the day, he may yet teach even more -eloquently and successfully in the dreamless sleep of the grave than his -matchless oratory ever taught in Atlanta or Boston. - - - ------------------ - - - HIS LOSS A GENERAL CALAMITY. - - ------- - - _Front the “St. Louis Globe-Democrat.”_ - -THE sudden and lamentable death of Henry W. Grady will eclipse the -gayety of the Christmas season in the South. He was a popular favorite -throughout that section, and his loss is a general calamity. His public -career was yet in its beginning. He had distinguished himself as an -editor and as an orator, and high political honors awaited him quite as -a matter of course. His qualities of head and heart fitted him admirably -for the service of the people, and they trusted and loved him as they -did no other of the younger Southern leaders. He believed in the new -order of things, and was anxious to see the South redeemed from the -blunders and superstitions of the past, and started on a career of -rational and substantial progress. In the nature of things, he was -obliged now and then to humor sectional prejudice, but he did it always -in a graceful way, and set an example of moderation and good temper that -was greatly to his credit. Without sacrificing in the least his honor or -his sincerity as a devoted son of the South, he gave candid and -appreciative recognition to the virtues of the North, and made himself -at home in Boston the same as in Atlanta. The war was over with him in -the best sense. He looked to the future, and all his aspirations were -generous and wholesome. - -If the political affairs of the South were in the control of men of the -Grady pattern, a vast improvement would soon be made. He did not -hesitate to denounce the methods which have so often brought deserved -reproach upon the Southern people. He was not in sympathy with the -theory that violence and fraud may be properly invoked to decide -elections and shape the course of legislation. His impulses as a -partisan stopped short of the feeling that everything is fair in -politics. He did much to mollify and elevate the tone of public -sentiment; and he would have done a great deal more if he had been -spared to continue his salutary work. His loss is one of that kind which -makes the decrees of fate so hard to understand. There was every reason -why he should live and prosper. His opportunities of usefulness were -abundant; his State and his country needed him; there was certain -distinction in store for him. Under such circumstances death comes not -as a logical result, but as an arbitrary interference with reasonable -conditions and conceptions. We are bound to believe that the mystery has -been made plain to the man himself; but here it is insoluble. The lesson -of his sterling integrity, his patriotism and his cheerfulness is left, -however, for his countrymen to study and enforce. Let us hope that in -the South particularly it will not be neglected. - - - ------------------ - - - SADDEST OF SEQUELS. - - ------- - - _From the “Manchester, N.H., Union.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady, the brilliant journalist and eloquent -orator, will be sincerely deplored throughout the country. It is -especially untimely, coming as it does as the saddest of sequels to a -tour which promised much in the beginning, and which, in all save this -ending, more than fulfilled the expectations of his friends. His -brilliant speech in Boston was his last great effort, and it will long -be remembered as one of his best. In it he plead, as it now proves, with -the lips of a dying man, for true fraternity between the North and -South. Had he lived, his burning appeals would have moved the country -deeply. Now that it is known that the effort cost him his life, his -words will have a touch of pathos in them as they are recalled by the -men of all parties and all sections to whom they were so earnestly -addressed. But even this increased effect given to his last appeal to -the North will not compensate for the loss of such a man at this time. -Henry W. Grady was distinctively the representative of the New South. -Too young to have had an active part in the great struggle between the -states, he came into active life at just the time when men like him were -needed. His face was set toward the future. He belonged to and was -identified with the progressive element which has already accomplished -so much of positive achievement in the Southern States. He was a -Southern man, recognized as a leader by Southern men, but with a breadth -of mind and purpose which made him a part of the entire country. Under -his leadership the South was sure to make progress, but its rapid march -was to be to the music of the Union, and with every step the North and -South were to be nearer together than at any previous time since the -adoption of the Constitution. But his part in the great work is ended. -His passionate voice is stilled and his active brain is at rest at a -time in life when most men are entering upon their most effective work. -Had he lived, a brilliant future was already assured to him, a future of -leadership and of tremendous influence in public affairs. But his -untimely death ends all. Others will take up his work as best they may; -the New South will go forward with the development of its material -interests, old animosities will fade away and the North and South will -gradually come together in harmony of spirit and purpose, but the man of -all others who seemed destined to lead in the great movement will have -no further share in it. The South will mourn his early death most -deeply, and the North will throw off its reserve sufficiently to extend -its sincere sympathy, feeling that when such a man dies the loss is the -nation’s rather than that of a single state or of a group of states. - - - ------------------ - - - A LIFE OF PROMISE. - - ------- - - _From the “Chicago Inter-Ocean.”_ - -IN the death of Henry W. Grady, which occurred yesterday, journalism, -the South, and the whole country suffered serious loss. He had come to -occupy a large place, and one which cannot be filled. He was a -connecting link between the old and the new South, with his face toward -the East, albeit the shadows of the setting sun could be clearly -discerned in his discussions of the vital questions of the day. His life -seemed just begun, and big in the promise of usefulness. Two years ago -he was known only as a journalist. He addressed the New England Society -of New York on the evening of December 29, 1887. That speech made him -famous. Since then his name has been a household word. For him to be -stricken down at the early age of thirty-nine is little if any short of -a public calamity. - -It is a dangerous thing for a man of serious purpose to win renown as an -after-dinner speaker. Post-prandial oratory is generally a kind of -champagne, as effervescent as it is sparkling, but Mr. Grady struck a -vein of thought at that New England banquet which had in it all the -earnestness of patriotism. A Southerner with a strong sectional flavor, -his influence, as a whole, was broadening. He never rose superior to the -prejudice of race, but it may well be doubted if any Southerner could do -so in these days without cutting himself off from all influence over his -own people. There is nowhere visible in the Southern heavens the dawn of -the day of equal justice, irrespective of race. In that regard Mr. Grady -was neither better nor worse than his white neighbors. But with that -exception his patriotism had largely outgrown its provincial -environments. - -Mr. Grady was a native of Georgia. His father seems to have been a -follower of Alex. H. Stephens, for he was a Union man until the final -test came, when he took up arms for the Confederacy, meeting death for -the cause of his reluctant espousal. A graduate of the University of -Georgia and later of the University of Virginia, the son had the best -education the South could give. His newspaper life began early and was -never interrupted. For several years he was co-editor and co-proprietor -of the Atlanta Constitution, confessedly one of the leading newspapers -of the country. Previous to his connection with the _Constitution_ he -was the correspondent of the _Inter-Ocean_ and the New York _Herald_. -Both as editor and correspondent he excelled. Both as editor and orator -he has at different times spoken eloquently of both Abraham Lincoln and -Jefferson Davis his point of view being intermediate, and that fact, -rather than any conscious vacillation, explains his seeming -contradictions. - -A few days ago the Southern people stood with uncovered heads by the -grave of Jefferson Davis, the most conspicuous representative of the Old -South, and now, before they had fairly returned from that funeral, they -are called upon to attend the obsequies of the most conspicuous -representative of the New South. These two notable men present much the -same blending of resemblance and contrast, as do the evening and the -morning stars. Certainly Mr. Grady, young, enthusiastic, and patriotic, -was to the South a harbinger of brighter, more prosperous days. - - - ------------------ - - - ELECTRIFIED THE WHOLE COUNTRY. - - ------- - - _From the “Pittsburgh Dispatch.”_ - -THE Christmas holidays, North and South, are saddened by the death of -Henry W. Grady, the interesting young journalist of Atlanta, whose words -of patriotism and of manly hope and encouragement for all sections, have -more than once within a few years electrified the whole country. Mr. -Grady won fame early, and in an uncommon manner. Though locally known in -the South as a capable newspaper man, his name was not familiar to the -general public until a few years ago, when, by a single speech at a -banquet in a northern city, he attracted universal attention. Since then -his utterances have carried weight, and scarcely a man speaking or -writing on public topics has been more respectfully heard. - -The key-note of Mr. Grady’s speeches on the South was that the past -belief of its people in the “Lost Cause,” and their continued personal -admiration for their leaders, should not and did not prevent them from -accepting fully and in perfect good faith the results as they stand. He -argued that the best elements, including the new generation, were only -too willing and anxious to treat of the past as a condition wholly and -irrevocably past—and, at that, a past which they would not recall if -they could. From the North he asked a recognition of this new feeling, -and the magnanimous consideration which would not assume that the South -was still disloyal or rebellious merely because it refused to condemn -itself and its leaders for the mistakes which brought it disaster. - -The efforts of the deceased were to promote patriotic devotion to the -Union in the South, and to induce the North to believe that the feeling -existed. His evident sincerity and his eloquence in presenting the -situation won cordial approval in the North, while in his own section he -was applauded with equal warmth. His death will be very widely and -deeply regretted, as that of a man of high and generous feeling whose -influence, had he lived, promised to make for whatever was noble and -good. - - - ------------------ - - - A LARGE BRAIN AND A LARGE HEART. - - ------- - - _From the “Elmira, N.Y., Advertiser.”_ - -THROUGHOUT the entire North as well as in the South will there be -heartfelt and sincere mourning over the death of this most distinguished -editor on the other side of Mason and Dixon’s line. It was only ten days -ago that he came North and delivered an address at the annual dinner of -the Merchant’s Club of Boston, following it on the next evening with a -speech before the Bay State Club, a Democratic organization. While on -this trip Mr. Grady contracted a severe cold which was the immediate -cause of his death yesterday morning. - -The dead editor was a man of large brain and large heart. His hope was -in the future of the South and he worked for the results which his -prophetic ken perceived ahead of its present with great earnestness and -great judgment. Since he became the editor of the Atlanta _Constitution_ -he has labored unceasingly to remedy the unfortunate conditions which -operated against the progress and development of the South. Under his -inspiring leadership and wise counsel many enterprises have been started -and encouraged. There is no other one man to whom the New South owes so -much as to Henry W. Grady. When he came to New York City two years ago, -and in a notable address there told the people what this New South had -done and was trying to do, the public was astonished at his statistics. -The speech was so eloquent, so earnest, so broadly American in tone and -spirit that it attracted wide attention and sent a thrill of admiration -to the heart of every gratified reader. It made him not only famous but -popular all through the North. This fame and popularity were increased -by his recent excellent addresses in Boston. The _Advertiser_ published, -on Thursday last, on the fourth page, an extract from one of these -speeches, entitled “The Hope of the Republic,” and we can do the dead -man no better honor than to recommend to our readers that they turn back -and read that extract again. It expresses the purest sentiment and -highest appreciation of the foundation principles of the Republic. - -Mr. Grady was a Democrat and a Southern Democrat. Yet he was a -protectionist and believed that the development of the South depended -upon the maintenance of the protective tariff. Under it the iron -manufactures and various products of the soil in that section of our -country have been increased to a wonderful extent while the general -business interests have strengthened to a remarkable degree. Mr. Grady -has encouraged the incoming of Northern laborers and capitalists and -aided every legitimate enterprise. He has been a politician, always true -to his party’s candidates, though he has been somewhat at variance with -his party’s tariff policy. He has been a good man, a noble, true -Christian gentleman, an earnest, faithful editor and a model laborer for -the promotion of his people’s interests. - - - ------------------ - - - THE MODEL CITIZEN. - - ------- - - _From the “Boston Globe.”_ - -HENRY W. GRADY dead? It seems almost impossible. - -Only ten days ago his fervid oratory rang out in a Boston banquet hall, -and enchanted the hundreds of Boston’s business men who heard it. Only -nine days ago the newspapers carried his glowing words and great -thoughts into millions of homes. And now he lies in the South he loved -so well—dead! - -“He has work yet to do,” said the physician, as the great orator lay -dying. “Perhaps his work is finished,” replied Mr. Grady’s mother. She -was right. To the physician, as to many others, it must have seemed that -Mr. Grady’s work was just beginning; that not much had yet been -accomplished. For he was young; only thirty-eight years old. He had -never held a public office, and there is a current delusion that office -is the necessary condition of success for those endowed with political -talents. But Mr. Grady had done his work, and it was a great work, too. -He had done more, perhaps, than any other man to destroy the lingering -animosities of the war and re-establish cordial relations between North -and South. His silvery speech and graphic imagery had opened the minds -of thousands of influential men of the North to a truer conception of -the South. He had shown them that the Old South was a memory only; the -New South a reality. And he had done more than any other man to open the -eyes of the North to the peerless natural advantages of his section, so -that streams of capital began to flow southward to develop those -resources. - -He was a living example of what a plain citizen may do for his country -without the aid of wealth, office or higher position than his own -talents and earnest patriotism gave him. - -Boston joins with Atlanta and the South in mourning the untimely death -of this eloquent orator, statesmanlike thinker, able journalist and -model citizen. He will long be affectionately remembered in this city -and throughout the North. - - - ------------------ - - - A LOYAL UNIONIST. - - ------- - - _From the “Chicago Times.”_ - -MR. GRADY was a loyal Unionist. The son of a Union veteran, proud of his -sire’s part in the battle-fields of the rebellion, could not be more so. -He stood manfully against the race prejudice which would lash the negro -or plunder or terrorize him, but he recognized fully the difficulties of -the race problem, and would not blink the fact, which every Northern man -who sojourns in the South soon learns, that safety, progress, peace, and -prosperity for that section forbid that the mere numerical superiority -of the blacks should authorize them to push the white man, with his -superior capability for affairs, from the places where laws are made and -executed. Mr. Grady looked upon the situation dispassionately and told -the truth about it to Northern audiences. - -He was an active force in the journalism of the South, where the journal -is still regarded largely as an organ of opinion and the personality of -the editor counts for much. He entered the newspaper field when the -modern idea of news excellence had obtained a full lodgment at the North -and at one or two places South of the Ohio, and while he loved to occupy -the pulpit of the fourth page he was not unmindful of the demand for a -thorough newspaper. - - - ------------------ - - - HIS WORK WAS NOT IN VAIN. - - ------- - - _From the “Cleveland, O., Plaindealer.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady of the Atlanta _Constitution_ is a loss to -journalism, to the South and to the nation. He had done good work for -each, and still more could reasonably be expected of him but for his -untimely death at the comparatively early age of thirty-eight. His fatal -illness was contracted when serving the cause of the whole country by -pleading in the North for a more generous and just judgment of the -Southern people and of their efforts to solve the race problem. He has -done much toward bringing about a better understanding by his brilliant, -earnest and logical addresses to Northern audiences, in which he abated -nothing of that intense love for that part of the Union of which he was -a native, but at the same time appealed to them as citizens of the same -country, as brothers, to bury past differences, make allowance for -conditions that were not desired and could not be avoided, and -substitute friendly confidence for prejudiced suspicion. More of the -same good work was expected of him, but as his mother said when speaking -of his dangerous condition: “May be his work is finished.” Under his -management the _Constitution_ worked unceasingly for the physical and -moral regeneration of the South. It preached the gospel of the “New -South,” redeemed by work, by enterprise and by devotion to the Union of -which the South is an integral part, and its preaching has not been in -vain. With pen and tongue, equally eloquent with both, Mr. Grady labored -in behalf of the cause he had so much at heart, and, although dying thus -early, he had the satisfaction of knowing that his work was not in vain; -that it is certain to bring forth good fruit. - - - ------------------ - - - THE BEST REPRESENTATIVE OF THE NEW SOUTH. - - ------- - - _From the “Albany, N.Y., Journal.”_ - -BY the death of Henry Woodfin Grady the country loses one of its most -brilliant journalists. - -THROUGHOUT the country his death will be deplored as most untimely, for -the future was bright before him. He had already, although only -thirty-eight years old, reached the front rank in his profession, and he -had been talked of as nominee for the vice-presidency. This eminence he -won not only by his brilliant writing, but also by his integrity and -high purposes. He never held an office, for though he could make and -unmake political destinies, he never took for himself the distinctions -he was able to bestow upon others. Though he inherited many ante-bellum -prejudices and feelings, yet no editor of the South was more earnest, -more fearless in denouncing the outrages and injustices from time to -time visited upon the negro. So the American people have come to believe -him the best representative of the “New South,” whose spokesman he -was—an able journalist and an honest man who tried according to his -convictions to make the newspaper what it should be, a living influence -for the best things in our political, industrial and social life. - - - ------------------ - - - A LAMENTABLE LOSS TO THE COUNTRY. - - ------- - - _From the “Cincinnati Commercial Gazette.”_ - -HE was a man of high faculties and purposes, and of great breadth of -sympathy. He had courage of heart equal to capacity of brain, and placed -in the core of the South, in her most busy city, and the undoubted -representative man of her ambition and progress, it is lamentable that -he should be lost to the country. - -It seemed to be in no man’s grasp to do more good than he had appointed -for his task. He has done that which will be memorable. It is something -forever, to plow one deep furrow in fertile land for the seed that is in -the air. - -He is dead, as the poets that are loved must die, still counting his -years in the thirties; and there is this compensation, that it may yet -be said of him in the South, as was so beautifully sung by Longfellow of -Burns in Scotland, that he haunts her fields in “immortal youth.” - - And then to die so young, and leave - Unfinished what he might achieve. - ... He haunts his native land - As an immortal youth; his hand - Guides every plow, - He sits beside each ingle-nook; - His voice is in each rushing brook, - Each rustling bough. - - - ------------------ - - - A SAD LOSS. - - ------- - - _From the “Buffalo, N.Y., Express.”_ - -THE death of no other man than Henry Woodfin Grady could have plunged -Georgia into such deep mourning as darkens all her borders to-day. -Atlanta is the center of Georgia life, and Grady was the incarnation of -Atlanta vitality. His was a personality difficult to associate with the -idea of death. He was so thoroughly alive, bodily and mentally, he was -so young, the fibers of his being reached out and were embedded in so -many of the living interests of Georgia and the whole South, that no -thought of his possible sudden end would rise in the minds of any who -knew him. And his friends were legion. Everybody called him Henry. - -In ten years he rose from obscurity to a prominence that made him the -foremost figure of his day in the South, and had already linked his name -with the second office in the gift of the American people. As an orator -he was the pride of the South, as Chauncey M. Depew is of the North. As -a journalist no Northern man bears the relation to his section that -Grady did to the South. As a public-spirited citizen it seemed only -necessary for Grady to espouse a project for it to succeed beyond all -expectations. Yet but a few years ago he started three newspapers in -succession and they all failed! Failure was the alphabet of his success. - -When Mr. Grady bought a quarter interest in the Atlanta _Constitution_ -he had had but slender training in journalism. He had written a great -deal, which is quite another thing. Though the _Constitution_ has -remained intensely provincial in its methods ever since, he has given it -an influence in the South unrivalled by any other paper, with possibly -one exception. Under his inspiration the _Constitution_ viewed -everything Georgian, and especially Atlantian, as better than similar -things elsewhere. It backed up local enterprises with a warmth that -shames the public spirit of most Northern cities. It boasted of local -achievements with a vehemence that was admirable while it sometimes was -amusing. Florid in his own speech and writing, Mr. Grady gathered about -him on the _Constitution_ men of similar gifts, who often wrote with -pens dipped, as it were, in parti-colored inks, and filled its columns -with ornate verbal illuminations. Yet amid much that was over-done and -under-done there often appeared work of genuine merit. For the -_Constitution_ under Grady has been the vehicle by which some of the -most talented of the late Southern writers have become familiar to the -public. Grady was proud of them, and of his paper. “I have the brightest -staff and the best newspaper in the United States,” he once remarked to -this writer. And Mr. Grady firmly believed what he said. - -It was as a speech-maker that Grady was best known at the North. Echoes -of his eloquence had been heard here from time to time, but soon after -the Charleston earthquake he made the address on “The New South,” before -the New England Society at New York, that won for him the applause of -the entire country, and must now stand as the greatest effort of his -life. His recent speech in Boston is too fresh in mind to need attention -here. Mr. Grady’s style was too florid to be wholly pleasing to admirers -of strong and simple English. He dealt liberally in tropes and figures. -He was by turns fervid and pathetic. He made his speeches, as he -conducted his newspaper, in a manner quite his own. It pleased the -people in Georgia, and even when he and his partner, Capt. Howell, ran -the _Constitution_ on both sides of the Prohibition question it was -regarded as a brilliant stroke of journalistic genius. - -Personally Mr. Grady was one of the most companionable and lovable of -men. His hand and his purse were always open. His last act in Atlanta, -when waiting at the depot for the train that bore him to the Boston -banquet, was to head a subscription to send the Gate City Guard to -attend Jefferson Davis’s funeral. His swarthy face was lighted by a -bright, moist, black eye that flashed forth the keen, active spirit -within. The impression left upon the mind after meeting him was of his -remarkable alertness. - -He will be a sad loss to Georgia, and to the South. There is none to -take his place. His qualities and his usefulness must be divided -henceforth among a number. No one man possesses them all. - - - ------------------ - - - WORDS OF VIRGIN GOLD. - - ------- - - _From the “Oswego, N.Y., Palladium.”_ - -THE peaceful serenity of the Christmas festival is sadly married by the -intelligence flashed over the wires from the fair Southern city of -Atlanta to-day. “Death loves a shining mark,” and without warning it -came and took away Henry W. Grady, the renowned orator and the brilliant -editor, the man above all others who could least be spared by the South -at this time. A week ago last Thursday night he stood up in the banquet -hall at Boston and with charming eloquence delivered to the people of -the North a message from the loyal South—a message that went out over -the land and across the sea in words of pure, virgin gold, that will -live long after he from whose lips they fell has returned to dust. Mr. -Grady’s effort on that occasion attracted the admiration of the whole -country. He spoke as one inspired, and his pathetic words at times moved -strong men to tears and made a lasting impression upon all who were -privileged to hear him. When he resumed his seat exhausted and -perspiring, he became a prey to the chilling draughts and took a very -severe cold. The evening next following he was banqueted by the Bay -State Club of Boston, and when he arose to respond to a happy sentiment -offered by the toastmaster in honor of the guest of the evening, he -could scarcely speak. He apologized for his condition and spoke but -briefly, and when he had finished the company arose and gave him a -double round of cheers. Among the fine sentiments of his closing words, -the last of his public utterances, were these: “There are those who want -to fan the embers of war, but just as certain as there is a God in the -heaven, when these uneasy insects of the hour perish in the heat that -gave them life, the great clock of this Republic will tick out the slow -moving and tranquil hour and the watchmen in the street will cry, ‘All -is well! All is well!’” His last words were these: “We bring to your -hearts that yearn for your confidence and love, the message of -fellowship from our home, and this message comes from consecrated -ground—ground consecrated to us by those who died in defeat. It is -likely that I shall not again see Bostonians assembled together, -therefore I want to take this occasion to thank you and my excellent -friends of last night, and those friends who accompanied us this morning -to Plymouth, for all that you have done for us since we have been here, -and to say that whenever you come South, just speak your name and -remember that Boston and Massachusetts is the watchword, and we will -meet you at the gate.” - -Mr. Grady returned home immediately, and his friends, who had prepared -to greet him with a great reception, met him at the train only to learn -that he was sick unto death. He was carried home suffering with -pneumonia and at 3:40 A.M. to-day breathed his last. The nations will -stop amid the Christmas festivities to lay upon the bier of the dead -Southerner a wealth of tenderness and love. - -It was as an editor that Grady was best known. His brilliant and -forceful contributions made the Atlanta _Constitution_ famous from one -end of this broad land to the other. As an orator he was master of an -accurate and rhythmical diction which swept through sustained flights to -majestic altitudes. We will deal with the statistical record of his life -at another time, and can only add here that it is a matter for sincere -regret that he has been taken away before he had reached the summit of -his fame or the meridian of his usefulness. - - - ------------------ - - - SAD NEWS. - - ------- - - _From the “Boston Advertiser.”_ - -THE untimely death yesterday of Henry Woodfin Grady is sad news. He was -predisposed to lung diseases, and the circumstances of his visit to -Boston were most unfortunate. The weather was very mild when he arrived -here, but became suddenly chill and wintry just before his departure. -Half our native population seemed to have caught cold owing to the -sudden and severe change in temperature, and Mr. Grady contracted -pneumonia in its most violent form, so that he grew steadily worse to -the end. His trip to Boston was eagerly anticipated, both because he had -never been in New England, and also for the reason that the greatest -interest had been created both North and South over the announcement -that he would speak on the race problem. The impression made by his -address—for it rose far above the ordinary after-dinner speech—is still -strong, and the expectation created in the South is attested by the fact -that a body-guard, as it were, of admiring friends from among leading -representative Southerners made the trip with Mr. Grady for the express -purpose of hearing his exposition of the race problem. - -Of Mr. Grady’s address there is nothing new to add. It was one of the -finest specimens of elegant and fervid oratory which this generation has -heard. It met the fondest anticipations of his friends, and the people -of his native State had planned to pay him extraordinary honors for the -surpassing manner in which he plead their cause. The address, considered -in all respects, was superior to that which he delivered in New York and -which won national reputation for him. His treatment of the race problem -was in no respect new, and it met with only a limited approval, but -while he did not convince, Mr. Grady certainly won from the North a -larger measure of intelligent appreciation of the problem laid upon the -South. It was impossible not to perceive his sincerity, and we -recognized in him and in his address the type and embodiment of the most -advanced sentiment in the generation which has sprung up at the South -since the war. Mr. Grady’s father lost his life in the Confederate army; -Mr. Grady himself spoke in the North to Union veterans and their sons. -It was perhaps impossible, from the natural environments of the -situation, that he should speak to the entire acceptance of his -auditors, or that he should give utterance to the ultimate policy which -will prevail in the settlement of the race problem. But we of the North -can and do say that Mr. Grady has made it easier for one of another -generation, removed from the war, to see with clearer vision and to -speak to the whole country on the race problem with greater acceptance -than would now be possible. To have done this is to do much, and it is -in striking contrast with the latter-day efforts of that other great -figure in Southern life who has but lately gone down to the grave -unreconciled. - -The North laments the death of Mr. Grady, and sincerely trusts that his -mantle as an apostle of the New South will fall upon worthy shoulders. -Business interests are bringing the North and South together at a -wonderfully rapid rate. This is not the day nor the generation in which -to witness perfect that substantial agreement for which we all hope. But -we are confident that if to the firmness of the Northern views upon the -civil rights of the black man there be added a fuller measure of -sympathy for those who must work out the problem, and if Mr. Grady’s -spirit of loyalty, national pride and brotherly kindness becomes deeply -rooted in the South, the future will be promising for the successful -solution of that problem which weighs so heavily upon every lover of his -country. - - - ------------------ - - - A LEADER OF LEADERS. - - ------- - - _From the “Philadelphia Times.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady, chief editor of the Atlanta _Constitution_, -is an irreparable loss to the South. Of all the many and influential -newspaper men of that section, Mr. Grady can only be compared with Mr. -Watterson, of the Louisville _Courier-Journal_, in point of distinction; -and while Watterson is the better equipped journalist, Grady was the -greater popular leader. He was not only a brilliant and forceful writer, -but a most eloquent and impressive speaker, and one of the most -sagacious in council. - -Mr. Grady was only ten years old when the civil war spread its terrible -pall over the land, and he was only a school-boy when his native South -was left defeated, desolated and despairing by the failure of the -Confederacy. He grew up with the new generation that is so rapidly -succeeding the actors of that great conflict in both sections. He -escaped the luxury and effeminacy of fortune; he had to grapple with -poverty amidst an almost hopeless people; and he was one of the earliest -of the new generation to rise to the full stature of manly duty. -Thoroughly Southern in sympathy, and keenly sharing the memories which -are sacred to all who wore and supported the gray, he saw the new -occasion with its new duties as the latent wealth of the South, that so -long slumbered under the blight of slavery, gave promise of development; -and alike in his own Empire State of the South, and in the great -metropolis of the Union and in the Bay State citadel of opposite -political views, he ever declared the same sentiments and cemented the -bond of common brotherhood. - -And no other young man of the South gave so much promise of future -honors and usefulness as did Mr. Grady. He has fallen ere he had reached -the full noontide of life, and when his public career was just at its -threshold. He could have been United States Senator at the last election -had he not given his plighted faith to another; and even with the office -left to go by default, it was with reluctance that the Legislature, -fresh from the people, passed him by in obedience to his own command. -That he would have been leader of leaders in the South, yea, in the -whole Union, is not doubted; and he was the one man of the present in -the South who might have been called to the Vice-Presidency had his life -been spared. He was free from the blemish of the Confederate Brigadier, -that is ever likely to be an obstacle to a popular election to the -Presidency or Vice-Presidency, and he was so thoroughly and so grandly -typical of the New South, with its new pulsations, its new progress, its -new patriotism, that his political promotion seemed plainly written in -the records of fate. - -But Henry W. Grady has fallen in the journey with his face yet looking -to the noonday sun, and it is only the vindication of truth to say that -he leaves no one who can fully take his place. Other young men of the -South will have their struggling paths brightened by the refulgence his -efforts and achievements reflect upon them, but to-day his death leaves -a gap in Southern leadership that will not be speedily filled. And he -will be mourned not only by those who sympathized with him in public -effort. He was one of the most genial, noble and lovable of men in every -relation of life, and from the homes of Georgia, and from the by-ways of -the sorrowing as well as from the circles of ambition, there will be -sobbing hearts over the grave of Henry W. Grady. - - - ------------------ - - - A FORCEFUL ADVOCATE. - - ------- - - _From the “Springfield, Mass., Republican.”_ - -THE death of Henry Woodfin Grady, the brilliant young Southern editor -and orator, which took place at Atlanta, Ga., was almost tragic in its -suddenness; it will make a profound impression at the South, and will be -deeply deplored here at the North, where he had come to be known as a -florid yet forceful advocate and apologist of his section. He had lately -caught the ear of the country, and while his speeches provoked critical -replies, it may be said in his honor that he, more than any other -Southerner, had lifted the plane of sectional debate from that of futile -recriminations to more dignified and candid interchanges of opinion. -That is saying much for a man who was a lad during the rebellion, and -who had not passed his thirty-ninth birthday. He was a man of pronounced -views, perhaps given more to pictures of prosperity than to the methods -of its attainment, and when upon the platform he carried the crowd by -the force of that genius for passionate appeals which his Irish ancestry -and Southern training had given him in full measure. No Southerner had -put the conflict of races in so reassuring a light; but he was not old -enough or far-seeing enough to realize that the problem can and will be -solved,—and that by Southerners. - -Mr. Grady called about him a formidable group of young Democrats filled -with the spirit of the New South. They believed that Georgia would rise -and the South be reconstructed in the broadest sense by the -multiplication of factories and the advancement of trade. These young -men selected Gov. Colquitt for their standard-bearer in the State -election of 1880, and Mr. Grady was made chairman of the campaign -committee. Colquitt during his first term had offended the Democratic -regulars, and the young men carried the war into the back country. The -vote at the primaries was unprecedentedly heavy. Colquitt carried the -State and was the first governor elected under the new constitution. -Grady never held public office, but it was supposed that he had been -selected by the Democratic leaders as Gov. Gordon’s successor, and many -thought that he was angling for the second place on the Democratic -national ticket in 1892. - -The attention of the North was first called to the brilliant Georgian by -his address at New York in June, 1887, at the annual dinner of the New -England Society. His speech at the Washington Centennial banquet last -spring was rather a disappointment, but he fully recovered his prestige -the other day at Boston, where he shared the honors of a notable -occasion with Grover Cleveland. Mr. Grady found time from his editorial -work to write an occasional magazine article, but his subject was his -one absorbing study—the South and its future. - - - ------------------ - - - HIS GREAT WORK. - - ------- - - _From the “Boston Post.”_ - -THE death of the brilliant young Southerner whose eloquence yet rings in -our ears followed so closely upon his visit to Boston that it doubtless -arouses a keener sense of regret and a clearer realization of loss here -than in other communities. Mr. Grady, moreover, in speaking for the New -South, whose aspirations he so ably represented, while addressing the -whole nation, yet brought himself more closely to New England in his -arguments, his contrasts and his fervid appeals; and, whether it was -admiration of his courage in combating the remnants of traditional -prejudices in the heart of the section in which this feeling once was -the strongest, or a sympathy with the sentiments which he expressed in -such captivating language, it cannot be doubted that the warmest -recognition which he has received outside his own State is that which he -won from this community. - -In all his efforts to spread that knowledge of the sentiments and the -purposes of the South which would tend to make the restored union of the -States more secure and more harmonious, Mr. Grady has addressed himself -especially to New England. It was at the meeting of the New England -Society in New York, in 1886, that he made the first notable speech -which evoked such a ready and generous response from all sections of the -country; and the last public words which he spoke in furtherance of the -same purpose were those delivered upon Plymouth Rock at the end of the -recent visit which he described as a pilgrimage. - -It is seldom, indeed, that a people or an idea has the fortune to -possess such an advocate as Mr. Grady. He not only knew where to carry -his plea, but he had a rare gift of eloquence in presenting it. Whether -Mr. Grady, as his field of effort enlarged, would have developed a more -varied talent as an orator, can never be known; but in the illustration -of the one subject on which he made himself heard before the people he -showed himself a master of the art. On this topic, full of inspiration -for him, he spoke with a brilliancy and power which were unapproachable. -Since Wendell Phillips, there is none possessed of such a strength of -fervid eloquence as that which this young man displayed. Much of the -effect produced by his speeches, of course, must be attributed to the -existence of a sentiment seldom aroused, but ready to respond to such an -appeal; but when every allowance is made for the circumstances under -which he achieved his triumphs of oratory, there remains the inimitable -charm which gave power and effect to his words. - -If Mr. Grady had been simply a rhetorician, his place in the public -estimation would be far different from that which is now accorded him. -Without the talent which he possessed in so remarkable degree, he could -not have produced the effect which he did; but back of the manner in -which he said what he had to say, which moved men to tears and to -applause, were the boldness, the frankness and the entire sincerity of -the man. His words brought conviction as his glowing phrases stirred the -sentiment of his hearers, and amid all the embellishments of oratory -there was presented the substantial fabric of fact. His last speech in -Boston was as strong in its argument as it was delightful in its -rhetoric. - -The influence which Mr. Grady has exerted upon the great movement which -has consolidated the Union and brought the South forward in the march of -industrial development cannot now be estimated. He has not lived to see -the realization of what he hoped. But there can be no doubt that his -short life of activity in the great work will have far-reaching results. - - - ------------------ - - - NEW ENGLAND’S SORROW. - - ------- - - _From the “Boston Herald.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady comes at a time and under conditions which -will cause a deep feeling of sorrow and regret in the minds of the -people of New England. He came to us only a few days ago as a -representative of our Southern fellow-countrymen, grasping the hand of -good will that was extended to him, and professing, in the eloquent -addresses that he made, a desire to do all that he could to allay any -differences of opinion or prejudices that might exist between the people -of the North and those of the South. One means of doing this, and one -which appealed particularly to the inhabitants of New England, was the -unquestioned admiration that he had for our traditions and institutions, -an admiration which he owned was so far cherished in the South as to -lead many of its people to copy our methods. The New South was a change -from the Old South, for the reason that its people were discarding their -former theories and opinions, and were to a large degree copying those -which we have always held. - -It is needless at this time to speak of Mr. Grady’s attempt to defend -the Southern method of settling the race problem, but, although there -were many who believed that he did not fully make out his case, his -statement of it threw a light upon the question which was probably new -to a large number of those who heard or read his words. - -Of Mr. Grady’s eloquence it can be said that it was spontaneity itself. -Rarely has a man been gifted with so remarkable a command of language -and so complete a knowledge of its felicitous use. There was in his -address an exuberance of fancy which age and a wider experience of men -and methods would have qualified, but no one can doubt that this gift of -his, combined as it was with high intentions and honesty of purpose, -would have made of him in a few years more, if he had been spared, a man -of national importance in the affairs of our country. - -It is sad to think that this young and promising life was thus -unexpectedly cut off, and by causes which seem to have been avoidable -ones. It is probable that Mr. Grady unconsciously overtaxed himself on -his Northern trip. He arrived in this city suffering from a severe cold, -which would probably have yielded to a day or two of complete rest. But -not only were there fixed appointments which he had come here to meet, -but new engagements and duties were assumed, so that during his short -stay here he was not only in a whirl of mental excitement, but was -undergoing constant physical exposure. - -A man of less rugged strength would have yielded under this trial before -it was half over, but Mr. Grady’s physique carried him through, and -those who heard his last speech, probably the last he ever delivered, at -the dinner of the Bay State Club, will remember that, though he excused -himself on account of his physical disabilities, the extemporaneous -address was full of the fire and pathos of his native eloquence. But, -although unaware of the sacrifice he was making, it is probable that Mr. -Grady weakened himself by these over-exertions to an extent that made -him an easy prey to the subtle advance of disease. - -His death causes a vacancy that cannot easily be filled. The South was -in need, and in years to come may be in still greater need, of an -advocate such as he would have been. She will, no doubt, find -substitutes for this journalist-orator, but we doubt whether any of -these will, in so short a time, win by their words the attention of the -entire American people or so deservedly hold their respect and -admiration. - - - ------------------ - - - A NOBLE LIFE ENDED. - - ------- - - _From the “Philadelphia Telegraph.”_ - -THE country will be startled to learn of the death of Henry W. Grady. No -man within the past three years has come so suddenly before the American -people, occupying so large a share of interested attention not only in -the South but in the North. None has wielded a greater influence or made -for himself a higher place in the public regard. The career of Mr. Grady -reads like a romance. Like a true Georgian, he was born with the -instincts of his people developed to a marked degree, and his rise to a -position of honor and usefulness was certain, should his life be spared. -But like the average man, even in this country of free opportunities, he -had to fight his way over obstacles which would have discouraged if not -crushed out the spirit of a less courageous and indomitable man. He was -too young to take any part in the late great internal strife, but as a -bright-minded boy he emerged from that contest with vivid and bitter -memories, an orphan, his father having fallen beneath the “Stars and -Bars.” His young manhood, while not altogether clouded by poverty, -started him upon the battle of life without any special favoring -circumstances, and without the support of influential friends to do for -him in a measure what doubtless would gladly have been done could his -future have been foreseen. But he started out for himself, and in the -rugged school of experience was severely taught the lessons of -self-reliance and individual energy which were to prepare him for the -responsibilities of intellectual leadership amongst a people in a sadly -disorganized condition, who were groping in the dark, as it were, -seeking the light of prosperity. He never but for a short time left his -own State, and as his field of observation and work enlarged and his -influence extended, his love for it seemed to grow more intense. It -became with him, indeed, a passion that was always conspicuous, and upon -which he loved to dwell, with pen or tongue, and some of his tributes to -the Empire Commonwealth of the South, as he loved to call it, will -proudly be recorded by the future historian of the annals of the time. - -It was as an active editor of the Atlanta _Constitution_ that Mr. Grady -found the sphere of labor in which he was to win high honor, and from -which he was to send out an influence measured only by the boundaries of -the South itself, if it did not extend, in fact, to the borders of the -nation. He wrote and spoke, when appearing in public, from a patriotic -and full heart. His utterances were those of a man deeply in love with -his country, and earnestly desirous of promoting her highest prosperity -and happiness. Some of his deliverances were prose poems that will be -read with delight by future generations of Southern youth. They came -forth flashing like meteors, doubtless to the astonishment of their -author himself, for he seemed to reach national prominence at a single -bound. There were times when Mr. Grady seemed to falter and slip aside -in discussing some of the burning questions of the hour, but this was -due to his great sympathy with his own people, his toleration of their -prejudices, and his desire to keep step with them and be one with them -throughout his work in their behalf. But he was an ardent young patriot, -a zealous and true friend of progress, and the New South will miss him -as it would miss no other man of the time. He set a brilliant example to -the younger men as well. He reached for and grasped with a hearty grip -the hand of the North in the spirit of true fraternity, and it is a -pathetic incident that the climax to his career should have been an -address in the very center of the advanced thought of New England. His -death seems almost tragic, and doubtless was indirectly, at least, due -to the immense pace at which he had been traveling within the past three -years; a victim of the prevailing American vice of intellectual men, -driving the machine at a furious rate, when suddenly the silver cord is -loosed, the golden bowl is broken, and the people of the Southland will -go mourning for one who ought, they will sadly think, to have been -spared them for many years, to help them work out their political, -industrial, and social salvation. The name of Henry W. Grady is sure of -an enduring and honored place in the history of the State of Georgia, -and in the annals of the public discussions in the American press, -during a time of great importance, of questions of vast concern to the -whole people. - - - ------------------ - - - A TYPICAL SOUTHERNER. - - ------- - - _From the “Chicago Tribune.”_ - -IN the death of Henry W. Grady the South has lost one of its most -eminent citizens and the newspaper press of the whole country one of its -most brilliant and dashing editors. He was a typical Southerner, -impulsive, sentimental, emotional, and magnetic in his presence and -speech, possessing those qualities which Henry Watterson once said were -characteristic of Southerners as compared with the reasoning, -reflective, mathematical nature of Northern men. His death will be a sad -loss to his paper and to the journalism of the whole country. He was a -high-toned, chivalrous gentleman, and a brilliant, enthusiastic, and -able editor, who worked his way to the top by the sheer force of his -native ability and gained a wide circle of admirers, not alone by his -indefatigable and versatile pen but also by the magnetism and eloquence -of his oratory. It is a matter for profound regret that a journalist of -such abilities and promise should have been cut off even before he had -reached his prime. - - - ------------------ - - - HIS NAME A HOUSEHOLD POSSESSION. - - ------- - - _From the “Independence, Mo., Sentinel.”_ - -A FEW years ago there shot athwart the sky of Southern journalism a -meteor of unusual brilliancy. From its first flash to its last expiring -spark it was glorious, beautiful, strong. It gave light where there had -been darkness, strength where there had been weakness, hope where there -had been despair. To the faint-hearted it had given cheer, to the timid -courage, to the weary vigor and energy. - -The electric wires yesterday must have trembled with emotion while -flashing to the outside world the startling intelligence that Henry W. -Grady, the editor of the Atlanta _Constitution_, was dead. It was only -last week this same world was reading the touching and pathetic tribute -his pen had paid to the dead Southern chief; or less than a week, -listening with pleased and attentive ears to the silver tones of his -oratory at the base of Plymouth Rock, as he plead for fair play for the -people of his own sunny Southland. - -Henry W. Grady was one of the foremost journalists of the day. He was -still numbered among the young men of the Republic, yet his name and -fame had already become a household possession in every part of the -Union. Not only was he a writer of remarkable vigor, but he was also a -finished orator and a skillful diplomat. As a writer he combined the -finish of a Prentiss with the strength and vigor of a Greeley. Not so -profuse, possibly, as Watterson, he was yet more solid and consistent. -By force of genius he had trodden difficulty and failure under foot and -had climbed to the highest rung of the ladder. - -By his own people he was idolized—by those of other sections highly -esteemed. Whenever he wrote all classes read. When he spoke, all people -listened. - -He was a genuine product of the South, yet he was thoroughly National in -his views. The vision of his intelligence took in not only Georgia and -Alabama, but all the States; for he believed in the Republic and was -glad the South was a part of it. - -His death is not only a loss to Atlanta and Georgia, to the South and -the North, but a calamity to journalism. - - - ------------------ - - - EDITOR, ORATOR, STATESMAN, PATRIOT. - - ------- - - _From the “Kansas City Globe.”_ - -IN the death of Henry W. Grady the South has lost one of its foremost -and best men. He was pre-eminently the foremost man of the South, and to -the credit of the section it can be said that he had not attained to -such a position by services in the past, but by duty conceived and well -discharged in the present. He was not a creature of the war, but was -born of the events succeeding the war and which, in turn, he has helped -to shape for the good of the South, in a way that has represented a -sentiment which has induced immigration and the investment of capital, -so that, short as has been the span of his life of usefulness, it has -been long enough to see the realization of his greatest ambition and -hopes—the South redeemed from the despair of defeat and made a -prosperous part of a great nation and a factor in working out a glorious -future for a reunited people. - -Intensely Southern in his sentiments, devotedly attached to his section -and as proud of it in poverty and defeat as in the day of its present -prosperity, to which he much contributed, Henry W. Grady comprehended -the situation as soon as man’s estate allowed him to begin the work of -his life, and he set about making a New South, in no sense, as he -claimed in his famous Boston speech, in disparagement of the Old South, -but because new ideas had taken root, because of new conditions; and the -new ideas he cultivated to a growth that opened a better sentiment -throughout the South, produced a better appreciation of Southern -sentiment in the North, and helped to harmonize the difference between -the sections that war sought to divide, but which failing still left “a -bloody chasm” to be spanned or filled up. That it is obliterated along -with the ramparts of fortresses and the earthworks of the war, is as -much due, or more, to Henry W. Grady than any man who has lived in the -South, a survivor of the war, or brought out of its sequences into -prominence. - -Early appreciating the natural advantages, the undeveloped resources of -the South, he has advocated as editor and orator the same fostering care -of Southern industry that has enabled the North to become the -manufacturing competitor with any people of the world. He sought, during -his life, to allay the political prejudice of the South and the -political suspicion of the North, and to bring each section to a -comprehension of the mutual advantages that would arise from the closest -social and business relations. He fought well, wrote convincingly and -spoke eloquently to this end, and dying, though in the very prime of his -usefulness, he closed his eyes upon work well done, upon a New South -that will endure as a nobler and better monument to his memory than -would the Confederacy, if it had succeeded, have been for Jefferson -Davis. - -The South has lost its ablest and best exponent, the representative of -the South as it is, and the whole country has lost a noble character, -whose sanctified mission, largely successful, was to make the country -one in sentiment, as it is in physical fact. - - - ------------------ - - - A SOUTHERN BEREAVEMENT. - - ------- - - _From the “Cincinnati Times-Star.”_ - -THE loss which the _Daily Constitution_ sustains in the death of Mr. -Grady is not a loss to a newspaper company only; it is a loss to -Atlanta, to Georgia, to the whole South. Mr. Grady belonged to a new era -of things south of the Ohio River. He was never found looking over his -shoulder in order to keep in sympathy with the people among whom he had -always lived. He was more than abreast of the times in the South, he -kept a little in advance, and his spirit was rapidly becoming -contagious. He wasted no time sighing over the past, he was getting all -there is of life in the present and preparing for greater things for -himself and the South in the future. His life expectancy was great, for -though already of national reputation he had not yet reached his prime. - -There was much of the antithetical in the lives of the two -representative Southern men who have but just passed away. The one lived -in the past, the other in the future. The one saw but little hope for -Southern people because the “cause” was “lost,” the other believed in a -mightier empire still because the Union was preserved. The one, full of -years, had finished his course, which had been full of mistakes. The -other had not only kept the faith, but had barely entered upon a course -that was full of promise. The one was the ashes of the past, the other, -like the orange-tree of his own sunny clime, had the ripe fruit of the -present and the bud of the future. The death of the one was long since -discounted, the death of the other comes like a sudden calamity in a -happy Christmas home. The North joins the South to-day in mourning for -Grady. - - - ------------------ - - - A MAN WHO WILL BE MISSED. - - ------- - -THE death of Mr. Henry W. Grady, of the Atlanta _Constitution_, is a -loss to South and North alike. The section which poured out a few days -ago its tributes of regret for the leader of the Southern Confederacy -may well dye its mourning a deeper hue in memory of this greater and -better man, whose useful life is cut short before he had reached his -prime. Mr. Grady has held a peculiar and trying position; and in it he -has done more, perhaps, than any other one man to make the two sections -separated by the War of the Rebellion understand each other, and to -bring them from a mere observance of what we might call a political -_modus vivendi_ to a cordial and real union. It was not as a journalist, -although in his profession he was both strong and brilliant, it was -rather as the earnest and eloquent representative of the New South, and -as the spokesman of her people that he had acquired national prominence. -He was one of the few who both cared and dared to tell to the people of -either section some truths about themselves and about the other that -were wholesome if they were not altogether palatable. He was wholly and -desperately in earnest. He had much of the devotion to his own section -and his own State that characterized the Southerner before the war. But -he had what they had not: a conception of national unity; of the power -and glory and honor of the nation as a whole, that made him respected -everywhere. Whether he appeared in Boston or in Atlanta, he was sure of -an interested and sympathetic audience; and his fervid orations, if they -sometimes avoided unpleasant issues and decked with flowers the scarred -face of the ugly fact, did much, nevertheless, to turn the eyes of the -people away from the past and toward the future. - -We have been far from agreeing with Mr. Grady’s opinions, either -socially or politically. The patriotic people of the North can have no -sympathy with the attempt to cover with honor the memory of treason, -which found in him an ardent apologist. We believe that we have gone to -the limit of magnanimity when we agree to forego question and memory, -and simply treat the men who led and the men who followed in the effort -to destroy the nation as if that effort had never been made. And we do -not hold that man as guilty of sectionalism and treason to a reunited -country who talks hotly of “rebels” and sneers at “brigadiers,” as that -man who speaks of these leaders of a lost cause as “patriots,” obedient -to the call of duty. To that error Mr. Grady, in common with other -leaders of his time, inclined the people of his section. Politically he -was, of course, through good or through evil report, an uncompromising -Democrat. Nor can we think his treatment of the race issue a happy one. -The North has come, at last, to do justice to the South in this respect, -and to acknowledge that the problem presented to her for solution in the -existence there of two races, politically equal before the law but -forever distinct in social and sentimental relations, is the gravest and -most difficult in our history. But the mere plea to let it alone, which -is the substance of Mr. Grady’s repeated appeal, is not the answer that -must come. It is not worthy of the people, either North or South. It is -not satisfactory, it is not final, and the present demands more of her -sons. But, in presenting these points of difference, it is not intended -to undervalue the work which Mr. Grady did or underestimate the value of -the service that lay before him. With tongue and pen he taught his -people the beauty and the value of that national unity into which we -have been reborn. He sought to lead them out of the bitterness of -political strife, to set their faces toward the material development -that is always a serviceable factor in the solution of political -problems, and to make of the new South something worthy of the name. The -work that he did was worthy, and there is none who can take and fill his -place. The death that plunged the South in mourning a short time ago was -merely the passing of an unhealthful reminiscence. The death of Grady is -a sorrow and a loss in which her people may feel that the regret and the -sympathy of the North are joined with theirs. - - - ------------------ - - - AT THE BEGINNING OF A GREAT CAREER. - - ------- - - _From the “Pittsburg Post.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady will be received with profound regret -throughout the Northern States, while in the South there will be deeper -and more heartfelt sorrow than the death of Jefferson Davis called -forth. The book of Mr. Davis’s life was closed before his death, but it -seemed as if we were but at the beginning of Mr. Grady’s career, with a -future that held out brilliant promise. He had all the characteristics -of warm-blooded Southern oratory, and his magnetic periods, that touched -heart and brain alike, were devoted to the single purpose of -rehabilitating the South by an appeal to the generosity and justice of -the North. No speech of recent years had a greater effect than his -splendid oration at the New England Society dinner in New York last year -on the “New South.” It was happily and appropriately supplemented by his -recent address to the merchants of Boston. He was a martyr to the cause -he advocated and personated, for it was in the chill atmosphere of New -England he contracted the disease of which he died. Rarely has it been -given to any man to gain such reputation and appreciation as fell to Mr. -Grady as the outcome of his two speeches in New York and Boston. He was -only thirty-eight years old; at the very beginning of what promised to -be a great career, of vast benefit to his section and country. He was -essentially of the New South; slavery and old politics were to him a -reminiscence and tradition. At home he was frank and courageous in -reminding the South of its duties and lapses. At the North he was the -intrepid and eloquent defender and champion of the South. Both fields -called for courage and good faith. - - - ------------------ - - - THE PEACE-MAKERS. - - ------- - - _From the “New York Churchman.”_ - -THE premature death of Mr. Grady has taken from the career of journalism -one of its most brilliant followers. In him has passed away also an -orator of exceptional powers, ready, versatile, and eloquent, a man of -many gifts, a student with the largest resources of literary culture, -and at the same time enabled by his practical experience and training to -use these resources to the best advantage. - -But the point we wish especially to note is that Mr. Grady, while deeply -attached to the South, and inheriting memories of the great civil -contest which made him early an orphan, was one of those who both -recognized the finality of the issue and had the courage to say so. - -He will be remembered at the North as one who spoke eloquent words of -conciliation and friendship, who did his share in healing the wounds of -war, and in smoothing the way toward complete national accord. “Blessed -are the peace-makers” is the inscription one would place above his -too-early opened grave. - -We have not the space at our command to do extended justice to Mr. -Grady’s great powers, or to picture at length his bright history. That -has been done in other places and by other hands. But we cannot pass by -the work he did for reconciliation without some expression of -acknowledgment. Such words as his, offered in behalf of peace, will -survive not merely in their immediate effect, but in the example they -set. - - - ------------------ - - - ONE OF THE BRIGHTEST. - - ------- - - _From the “Seattle Press.”_ - -ONE of the brightest men in America passed away on Monday. Henry W. -Grady, the editor of the Atlanta _Constitution_, Georgia’s leading -paper, and which has come to be regarded by many as the ablest paper in -the South, had within a very brief period impressed his personality upon -the current history of the nation. Five years ago he was little more -than locally known. Being a guest at a dinner of the New England Society -at Boston, he made a speech which was the happiest inspiration and -effort of his life. It was the right word spoken at the right time. It -lifted him at once to the dignity of a national figure. It was the -greeting of the New South to the new order of things. It touched the -great heart of the North by its warm tribute to the patriotism and -faithfulness of the martyred President, Abraham Lincoln, being the first -Southern utterance which did full justice to the memory of that great -man. It was not a sycophantic nor an apologetic speech, but the voice of -one who accepts accomplished results in their fullness, recognizes all -the merits of his opponent, and bravely faces the future without -heart-burnings or vain regrets. Mr. Grady’s speech was published in -almost every paper in the land, in whole or in part, and, to borrow an -old phrase, “he woke up one morning and found himself famous.” Since -then all that he has written, said or done has been in the same line of -patriotic duty. He has been no apologist for anything done by the South -during the war. He never cringed. He was willing that he and his should -bear all the responsibility of their course. But he loved the whole -reunited country, and all that he spoke or wrote was intended to advance -good feeling between the sections and the common benefit of all. - -Mr. Grady was a partisan, but in the higher sense. He never descended to -the lower levels of controversy. His weapon was argument, not abuse. And -he was capable of rising above his party’s platform. He could not be -shackled by committees or conventions. He nervily and consistently -proclaimed his adhesion to the doctrine of protection to American -industry, although it placed him out of line with his party associates. - - - ------------------ - - - THE SOUTH’S NOBLE SON. - - ------- - - _From the “Rockland, Me., Opinion.”_ - -THE whole country is deeply grieved and shocked by the announcement of -the death of Mr. Henry W. Grady of Atlanta, Georgia, which occurred last -Monday morning. The land was yet ringing with the matchless eloquence of -his magnificent speech at the merchants’ dinner in Boston, when the news -of his illness came, closely followed by that of his death. The press of -the country was yet teeming with the applause of its best -representatives, when the voice that evoked it is stilled in death, and -one of the most brilliant careers of this generation is suddenly and -prematurely closed. Mr. Grady caught a severe cold during his visit to -Boston, and grew ill rapidly during his return journey. On his arrival -home, he was found to be seriously ill of pneumonia, and the dread -disease took a rapid course to a fatal termination. Mr. Grady was one of -the most popular men in the South. He was an eloquent orator and -brilliant writer. He was born in 1851 in Georgia, graduated at the State -University and also took a course at the University of Virginia. On -coming out of college, Mr. Grady embarked in journalism and devoted a -comfortable fortune to gaining the experience of a successful newspaper -man. Under his management the _Constitution_ of Atlanta, Ga., has gained -a very large circulation. Mr. Grady has persistently refused to accept -office. He won National fame as an orator by his speech at the Pilgrims’ -dinner in Brooklyn, two years ago, and has been in great demand at -banquets and similar occasions ever since. His eloquence was of the -warm, moving sort that appeals to the emotions, his logic was sound and -careful and all his utterances were marked by sincerity and candor. He -has also no doubt done more than any one man to remove the prejudices -and misunderstandings that have embittered the people of the North and -South against each other politically, and to raise the great race -problems of the day from the ruck of sectionalism and partisanship upon -the high plane of national statesmanship. The South has lost a brave, -noble and brilliant son, who served her as effectively as devotedly; but -his work was needed as much and quite as useful at the North, and his -death is indeed a national misfortune. - - - ------------------ - - - BRILLIANT AND GIFTED. - - ------- - - _Dr. H. M. Field in “New York Evangelist.”_ - -IT is with a grief that we cannot express, that we write the above name, -and add that he who bore it is no longer among the living. The most -brilliant and gifted man in all the South—the one who, though still -young, had acquired immense popularity and influence, which made him -useful alike to the South and to the whole country—has gone to his -grave. He has died in his prime, at the early age of thirty-eight, in -the maturity of his powers, with the rich promise of life all before -him. - -Our acquaintance with Mr. Grady began nine years ago, when we saw him -for the first time in the office of a brother of ours, who was able to -give him the help which he needed to purchase a quarter of the Atlanta -_Constitution_. This at once made his position, as it gave him a point -of vantage from which to exercise his wonderful gifts. From that moment -his career was open before him; his genius would do the rest. This -kindness he never forgot, and it led to his personal relations with us, -which afterwards became those of intimacy and friendship. - -When we first saw him, his face was almost boyish, round and ruddy with -health, his eyes sparkling with intelligence, as well as with the wit -and humor which he perhaps inherited from some ancestor of Irish blood. -His face, like his character, matured with years; yet it always had a -youthful appearance, which was the outward token of the immense vitality -within him. We have seldom known a man who was so intensely alive—alive -to the very tips of his fingers. As a writer, he was one of the very -best for the variety of work required in the office of a great journal. -His style was animated and picturesque, and he had an infinite -versatility; turning his pen now to this subject and now to that; -throwing off here a sharp paragraph, and there a vigorous editorial; but -never in either writing a dull line. The same freshness and alertness of -mind he showed in conversation, where he was as brilliant as with his -pen. He would tell a story with all the animation and mimicry of an -actor, alternating with touches of humor and pathos that were quite -inimitable. It was the chief pleasure of our visit to Atlanta to renew -this delightful acquaintance—a pleasure which we had twice last winter -in going to, and returning from, Florida. Never shall we forget the last -time that we sat before his fire, with his charming family and several -clergymen of Atlanta, and listened to the endless variety of his -marvelous talk. - -Nor was his power confined to this limited circle. He was not only a -brilliant conversationalist and writer, but a genuine orator. No man -could take an audience from the first sentence, and hold it to the last, -more perfectly than he. His speech before the New England Society in -this city three years ago gave him at once a national reputation. It -came to us when abroad, and even so far away, on the shores of the -Mediterranean, at Palermo, in Sicily, we were thrilled by its fervid -eloquence. A second speech, not less powerful, was delivered but two -weeks since in Boston; and it was in coming on to this, and in a visit -to Plymouth Rock, where he was called upon to make a speech in the open -air, that he took the cold which developed into pneumonia, and caused -his death. - -But Mr. Grady’s chief claim to grateful remembrance by the whole country -is that he was a pacificator between the North and the South. Born in -the South, he loved it intensely. His own family had suffered in the war -an irreparable loss. He once said to us as we came from his house, where -we had been to call upon his mother, whose gentle face was saddened by a -great sorrow that had cast a shadow over her life, “You know my father -was killed at Petersburg.” But in spite of these sad memories, he -cherished no hatred, nor bitterness, but felt that the prosperity of -millions depended on a complete reconciliation of the two sections, so -that North and South should once more be one country. This aim he kept -constantly in view, both in his speeches and in his writings, wherein -there were some things in which we did not agree, as our readers may see -in the letter published this very week on our first page. But we always -recognized his sincerity and manliness, and his ardent love for the land -of his birth, for all which we admired him and loved him—and love him -still—and on this Christmas day approach with the great crowd of -mourners, and cast this flower upon his new-made grave. - - - ------------------ - - - THE DEATH OF HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - _John Boyle O’Reilly, in the “Boston Pilot.”_ - -“THE South is in tears!” said the sorrowful dispatch from Atlanta on -Monday last; and the grief and the sympathy of the North went freely -southward in response. Next to his own city, indeed, this death strikes -Boston most deeply, for here with us, only a few days ago, he poured -forth the noblest stream of eloquence that ever flowed from his gifted -tongue. It matters not now that many New Englanders, the _Pilot_ -included, dissented from his Southern view of the colored question. We -disagreed with the word, but we honored the silver tongue and the heart -of gold beneath it. “He was the most eloquent man,” said the Hon. P. A. -Collins, one who knows what eloquence consists of, “that I ever heard -speak in Boston.” - -Since the olden times there has been no more striking illustration of -the power of oratory to appeal to the nation and to make a man famous -among his people than is found in the career of Mr. Grady. Within ten -years he leaped from the position of a modest Georgian editor to that of -the best-known and the greatest orator on this continent. So potent is -the true gift of eloquence when the substructure is recognized as solid -in character and profoundly earnest in purpose. - -To Irish-Americans, as to the State that has lost him, the death of Mr. -Grady is a special affliction. He represented in a fine type the -patriotism and the manly quality of a citizen that every Irish-American -ought to keep in spiritual sight. He was a man to be trusted and loved. -He was a proud Georgian and a patriotic American, though his father had -died for “the Lost Cause.” He was, while in Boston, introduced to the -great audience by Colonel Charles H. Taylor as “the matchless orator of -Georgia.” Playfully, and yet half seriously, he accounted for himself -thus: “My father was an Irishman—and my mother was a woman. I come -naturally by my eloquence.” - -North or South, it matters not the section—all men must honor such a -character. His brief life reached a high achievement. He was a type of -American to be hailed with delight—courageous, ready of hand and voice, -proudly sentimental yet widely reserved, devoted to his State and loyal -to the Republic, public-spirited as a statesman, and industrious and -frugal as a townsman, and the head of a happy family. His devotion to -his parents and to his wife and children was the last lesson of his -life. In his Boston speech he drew tears from thousands by the unnamed -picture of his father’s death for the bleeding South; from Boston he -went South, insisting on being taken to his home when they told him in -New York that he was dangerously ill. He died surrounded by his -own—mother, wife, and children. Almost his last words to his mother -were: “Father died fighting for the South, and I am happy to die talking -for her.” - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRIBUTES - - OF THE - - SOUTHERN PRESS. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - A NOBLE DEATH. - - ------- - - _From the “Jacksonville, Fla., Times-Union.”_ - -ALAS, that the hero of the New South should follow, and in so short a -time, the typical hero and representative of the Old! With hearts still -bowed beneath the shadow of the flags at half-mast all over the South -for Jefferson Davis, comes the sad and sudden message announcing the -death of Henry W. Grady. - -Poor Grady! Dead in the very summer time and blossom and golden fruitage -of a brilliant life! Fallen, while yet so young and in the arms of his -first overwhelming victory. Fallen on the topmost crest of a grand -achievement—on the shining heights he had just so bravely won! Hapless -fate, that he could not survive to realize the full fruition of his -sublime endeavor! He went North only a few days ago on a mission of love -and reconciliation, his great heart bearing the sorrows of the South, -his big brain pulsing with patriotic purpose. Of a nervous, sensitive -nature, his physical system, in sympathy with his intellectual triumph, -both strained to the utmost tension, rendered him susceptible to the -sudden change of climate, and he contracted a severe cold which soon -developed into pneumonia, attended by a burning fever. Returning home he -was met at the depot by what had been arranged for a grand ovation and a -banquet at the Chamber of Commerce, by the people of Atlanta, but -instead of being carried on the strong shoulders of the thousands who -loved and honored him, he was received into the gentle arms of his -family and physicians and borne tenderly home, to linger yet for a -little while with the fond circle whose love, deep, strong, and tender -as it was, appealed in vain against the hard decree of the great -conqueror. - -As Mr. Grady so eloquently expressed in his last hours: “Tell mother I -died for the South, the land I love so well!” And this was as true as it -could be of any patriot who falls on the field of battle. - - ’Twas his own genius gave the final blow, - And helped to plant the wound that laid him low. - - * * * * * - - Yes, she too much indulged the fond pursuit; - She sowed the seed, but death has reaped the fruit! - -But has death, indeed, reaped the fruit? May not the very sacrifice, in -itself, consecrate his last eloquent and inspired words till they sink -deeper into the hearts of the North and South alike, thus linked with a -more sacred memory and a sublimer sorrow? If so, we shall find a larger -recompense even in the bitter bereavement. - -As far as his personal history is concerned, Henry Grady could not have -died a nobler death. The Greek philosopher said: “Esteem no man happy -while he lives.” He who falls victorious, the citadel won, in a blaze of -glory, is safe; safe from all the vicissitudes of fortune; safe from any -act that might otherwise tarnish an illustrious name. It descends a rich -heritage to after time. During the presidential campaign of 1844 the -wonderful orator, Sargent S. Prentiss, delivered at Nashville, to an -immense audience, the greatest campaign speech, perhaps, that was ever -heard in the United States. After speaking for several hours, and just -as he was closing an eloquent burst of oratory, he fell fainting in the -arms of several of the bystanders. At once there was a rush to -resuscitate him, but Governor Jones, thoroughly inspired by the speech -and occasion, sprang from his seat, in a stentorian voice shouting: -“Die! Prentiss; _die_! You’ll never have a better time!” - -The _Times-Union_ has heretofore commented on Mr. Grady’s magnificent -oration at Boston. It not only captured New England and the South, but -the entire country. Nothing like it since the war has been uttered. In -force, power, eloquence, it has been but rarely excelled in any time. -Major Audley Maxwell, a leading Boston lawyer, describes it in a letter -to a friend in this city as “a cannon-ball in full flight, fringed with -flowers.” The occasion, the audience, the surroundings, were all -inspiring. He was pleading for the South—for the people he loved—and to -say that he reached the topmost height of the great argument, is comment -and compliment enough. The closing paragraphs are republished this -morning, and no man ever uttered a sublimer peroration. He spoke as one -might have spoken standing consciously within the circling wings of -death, when the mind is expanded by the rapid crowding of great events -and the lips are touched with prophetic fire. - -The death of Henry Grady was a public calamity. He had the ear of the -North as no other Southern man had, or has. He was old enough to have -served in the Confederate armies, yet young enough, at the surrender, -while cherishing the traditions of the past, to still lay firm hold on -the future in earnest sympathy for a restored and reconciled Union. In -this work he was the South’s most conspicuous leader. - -But his life-work is finished. Let the people of the South re-form their -broken ranks and move forward to the completion of the work which his -genius made more easy of accomplishment and which his death has -sanctified. In the words he himself would have spoken, the words -employed by another brilliant leader on undertaking a great campaign, -each of the soldiers enlisted for the South’s continued progress will -cry: “Spurn me if I flee; support me if I fall, but let us move on! In -God’s name, let us move on!” - - - ------------------ - - - THERE WAS NONE GREATER. - - ------- - - _From the “Birmingham, Mo., Chronicle.”_ - -THE CHRONICLE confesses to being a hero-worshiper. There is no trait in -the human heart more noble than that which applauds and commemorates the -feats of brains or arms done by our fellow-man. We confess the almost -holy veneration we feel for the heroes of song and story from the -beginning of tradition. Nimrod to Joseph and Moses to the Maccabees, -from Alexander to Cæsar, taking in the heroes of all nations from Cheops -to Napoleon and Wellington, Putnam, Sam Houston and Lee and Grant and -Lincoln, we do honor to them all. - -So too do we worship the sages and orators. Whatever man the people -worship is worthy of a place in our Pantheon. The people are the best -judges of a man, and when the common people pay tribute to the worth of -any man well known to them, we are ready to lift our hats and -acknowledge his title to greatness. Any man who has the enthusiastic -admiration of his own people is worthy of any honor. - -The South has many brilliant writers, but none of them have ever made -the columns of a newspaper glisten and glow and hold in magnetic -enchantment the mind of the reader as Henry Grady did. In his life-work -he was great, and there is none greater. His writings are worthy of a -place beside those of Greeley and Watterson, and Grady was still a young -man. - -In the days gone by the South has sent many orators North to present -Southern thought to Northern hearers. Henry Clay, Jefferson Davis, -Robert Toombs and William L. Yancey all went before Grady was invited to -speak up there. There were never four greater orators in the world’s -history, and the story of their speeches has come down to us like music. -Yet in this latter day when oratory does not appeal to people as it used -to, when the busy world does not stop to read speeches, Grady went North -to speak. He was known to the North and had done nothing to challenge -the attention of the nation, yet his first speech at the North did catch -public attention most pleasantly. His second speech, delivered but a few -days ago, was the greatest effort of his life, and all the nations -listened to it and all the newspapers commented upon his utterances. His -speech was the equal of any oration ever delivered in America, and had -as much effect on public thought. No effort of Toombs or Yancey, even in -the days of public excitement, surpassed this last speech of Grady. - -He deserves a place among the great men of America, and the South must -hold his memory in reverence. A broken shaft must be his monument, for -as sure as life had been spared him new honors were in store for this -young man. He had made his place in the world, and he was equal to any -call made upon him, and the people were learning to look to him as a -leader. Few such men are born, and too much honor cannot be done them. - - - ------------------ - - - A GREAT LEADER HAS FALLEN. - - ------- - - _From the “Raleigh, N.C., State-Chronicle.”_ - - Good mother, weep, Cornelia of the South, - For thou indeed has lost a jewel son; - The Gracchi great were not so much beloved, - Nor with more worthy deeds their honors won. - Thy stalwart son deserves a Roman’s fame, - For Cato was not more supremely just; - Augustus was not greater in the State, - Nor Brutus truer to the public trust. - -IN the death of Mr. Henry W. Grady the South loses its brightest and -most useful man. He was the only Southern man who really had the ear of -the people of the whole country, and he had just reached the position -where he could be useful in the largest sphere. It is inexplicable why -so young and robust a man—(he was not over thirty-nine years of age)—a -man so brilliant and so able, should be taken just as he was entering -upon the plane of wider influence and greater usefulness. To the South -it is the greatest loss that it has sustained by death in a quarter of a -century. To the whole people of the country, which he loved with his -great-hearted devotion, it is nothing short of a National calamity. - -Mr. Grady had the ear and heart of the South because he loved its -history and its very soil, and because he was the leading exponent of -the idea that is working to build up a prosperous manufacturing New -South. He had the ear of the North because, while he had no apologies to -make for Southern actions and was proud of Southern achievements, he had -turned his eyes to the morning and lived in the busy world of to-day. He -recognized changed conditions and did not bemoan fate. He stood up in -his manliness and his faith and went to work to bring prosperity where -poverty cast its blight. He inspired others in the South with faith in -the future of his section, and invited Northern men of money, brains, -and brawn to come South and make a fortune; and when they accepted his -invitation, as not a few did, he gave them a brotherly welcome and made -them feel that they were at home. In this he showed practical -patriotism. Under no temptation—even when speaking in Boston—did he ever -so far forget his manhood as to - - Crook the pregnant hinges of the knee, - Where thrift may follow fawning. - -The people of the North also heard him because of his candor. He never -deceived them about the race problem or the difficulties in the way of -the South’s future. He admitted their gravity, and sought a peaceful -solution in a just, fair, and honest way. His speech in Boston was a -lamentation and an earnest appeal. He cried aloud for sympathetic help, -and his cry, sealed with his life, we must believe, will not be heard in -vain. God grant that his prayer for Peace and Union may be answered! - -Mr. Grady’s most attractive quality was his warm great heartedness. He -was generous to a fault. No tale of suffering or poverty was unheeded by -him. He had a buoyant spirit and a light heart and deep affections. He -was reverent in speech and with pen. He believed in God, had learned the -truth of the gospel at his mother’s knee, “The truest altar I have yet -found,” he said in his last speech. He was a member of the Methodist -church. He had profound convictions, and his eloquent speeches in favor -of Prohibition in Atlanta will not be forgotten. No man ever spoke more -earnest words for what he conceived to be the safety of the homes of -Atlanta than he. They will long be treasured up with fondness by those -who mourn that he was cut down in the zenith of what promised the most -brilliant career that lay out before any man in America. - -Henry W. Grady was a grandson of North Carolina. His father was a native -of Macon county, but early in life emigrated to Rome, Georgia, to make -his fortune, and he made it. He was one of those men who succeed in -every undertaking. Everything he touched seemed to turn to gold. He -prospered and made a large estate. When the war came on he had a -presentiment that he would be killed. But notwithstanding that idea took -possession of him, he raised and equipped _at his own expense_ a -regiment of cavalry, and hastened to the front as its captain. His -company was attached as company G to the 25th N.C. Regiment, commanded -by Col. Thos. L. Clingman. Eventually Capt. Grady was promoted to be -major of the regiment. In the first battle he fell mortally wounded, -showing how true was his presentiment of death. He was surrounded by his -men, some of them brave, sturdy North Carolinians. He left a legacy of -honor to his son, who always called North Carolina his grandmother and -had a deep affection for its sons. - -Mr. Grady graduated with high honors at the University of Georgia in -Athens. Then he spent two years at the University of Virginia, where he -devoted himself rather to the study of literature and to the work of the -societies than to the regular college course. He won high honors there -as an orator and as a debater. He was as well equipped and as ready and -as effective as a debater as he became later on as an orator and editor. -He was regarded there as a universal genius and the most charming of -men. Leaving college he established a paper at Rome. Later in connection -with Mr. Alston (North Carolina stock) he established the Atlanta -_Herald_. It was a brilliant paper but was not a financial success. Our -readers will remember that Mr. Alston was shot in the Capitol by State -Treasurer Cox. Upon the failure of the _Herald_, Mr. Grady went to New -York. He was without money and went there looking for something to do. -He went into the office of the New York _Herald_ and asked for a -position. - -“What can you do?” asked the managing editor, when Mr. Grady asked for a -position. “Anything,” was the reply of the young Georgian, conscious of -his powers and conscious of ability to do any kind of work that was to -be done in a great newspaper office. The editor asked him where he was -from, and learning that he was from Georgia, said: “Do you know anything -about Georgia politics?” Now if there was any subject which he knew all -about it was Georgia politics, and he said so. “Then sit down,” said the -managing editor, “and write me an article on Georgia politics.” He sat -down and dashed off an article of the brightest matter showing thorough -insight into the situation in Georgia and thorough knowledge of the -leaders in that State. He was always a facile writer, and all his -articles were printed without erasing or re-writing. The article was put -into the pigeon-hole, and Mr. Grady took his departure. He left the -office, so he said, very despondent, thinking the article might be -published after several weeks, but fearing that it would never see the -light. What was his surprise and joy to see it in the _Herald_ the next -morning. He went down to the office and was engaged as correspondent for -Georgia and the South. In this capacity he wrote letters upon Southern -topics of such brilliancy as have never been surpassed, if equaled, in -the history of American journalism. They gained for him a wide -reputation, and made him a great favorite in Georgia. The public men of -that State recognized his ability, and saw how much he might do to -develop the resources and advance the prosperity and fame of Georgia if -at the head of a great State paper. The late Alexander H. Stephens -interested himself in Mr. Grady and assisted to get him on the staff of -the _Constitution_. From the day he went to Atlanta on the staff of the -_Constitution_ until his death his best energies and his great abilities -were directed toward making it a great paper, and a powerful factor in -developing the resources of Georgia. It became the most successful of -Southern newspapers, and is to-day a competitor with the great papers of -the North. To have achieved this unprecedented success in journalism -were honor enough to win in a life-time. He was confessedly the Gamaliel -of Southern journalism, and the best of it all was that he was, as was -said of Horace Greeley after his death, “a journalist because he had -something to say which he believed mankind would be the better for -knowing; not because he wanted something for himself which journalism -might secure for him.” - -He was a Saul, and stood head and shoulders above all his fellows as an -orator as well as an editor. We cannot dwell upon his reputation as an -orator, or recount the scenes of his successes. We had heard him only in -impromptu efforts and in short introductory speeches, where he easily -surpassed any man whom we ever heard. He had a fine physique, a big, -round, open, manly face, was thick-set, was pleasing in style, and had a -winning and captivating voice. He could rival Senator Vance in telling -an anecdote. He could equal Senator Ransom in a polished, graceful -oration. He could put Governor Fowle to his best in his classical -illustrations. He could equal Waddell in his eloquent flights. In a word -he had more talent as a public speaker than any man we ever knew; and -added to that he had _heart_, _soul_, _fire_—the essentials of true -oratory. We recall four speeches which gave him greatest reputation. One -was in Texas at a college commencement, we think; another at the New -York banquet on “The New South”; the third at the University of -Virginia; and the last—(alas! his last words)—at the Boston banquet just -two weeks ago. These speeches, as well as others he has made, deserve to -live. The last one—published in last week’s _Chronicle_—is emphasized by -his untimely death. In it he had so ably and eloquently defended the -South and so convincingly plead for a united country based upon mutual -confidence and sympathy that, in view of his death, his words seem to -have been touched by a patriotism and a devoutness akin to inspiration. -His broad catholicity and his great patriotism bridged all sectional -lines, and he stood before the country the most eloquent advocate of “a -Union of Hearts” as well as a “Union of Hands.” As the coming greatest -leader of the South, he sounded the key-note of sublimest patriotism. -Less profound than Daniel Webster, his burning words for the perpetuity -of the Union, with mutual trust and no sectional antagonism, were not -less thrilling nor impressive. The Southern people ought to read and -re-read this great speech, which, doubtless, cost him his life, and make -it the lamp to their feet. If we heed his words and bury sectionalism, -it will be written of him that “though dead, he yet speaketh.” - - Star of the South! - To thee all eyes and hearts were turned, - As round thy path, from plain to sea, - The glory of thy greatness burned. - - Millions were drawn to thee and bound - By mind’s high mastery, millions hailed - In thee a guide-star—and ne’er found - A ray in thee, that waned or failed. - - No night’s embrace for thee! nor pall, - But such as mortal hand hath wrought, - Thou livest still in mind—in all - That breathes, or speaks, or lives in thought. - - - ------------------ - - - HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - _From the “New Orleans Times-Democrat.”_ - -HENRY W. GRADY, editor of the Atlanta _Constitution_, died yesterday, -after a short illness, from typhoid pneumonia, at the early age of -thirty-six. Perhaps no man in the South has been more often mentioned in -the last few years or attracted more attention than he. His famous -speech before the New England Society had the effect of bringing him -before the country as the representative of that New South which is -building up into prosperity and greatness. - -Mr. Grady was a native of Georgia. His father was Colonel of a -Confederate regiment during the late war, and to that father he paid the -highest tribute a son could pay in several of his speeches. He had a -hard struggle at first, like nearly every Southern boy, but he fought -his way up to the top by pluck, energy and determination. - -Mr. Grady’s first journalistic venture was, we believe, in his native -town. He ran a small paper there, moved thence to Atlanta, carrying on -another newspaper venture in the Georgia capital. In the course of -events this paper was swallowed up by the _Constitution_, then pushing -itself to the front of the Georgia press, and Mr. Grady was selected as -co-editor of the latter. - -Under him that paper became one of the leading exponents of Southern -opinion, a representative of the progressive South, not lingering over -dead memories, but living in the light of the present and laboring to -build up this section. - -Mr. Grady and his paper were always the defenders of the South, yet not -afraid to expose and condemn its errors and mistakes. He had the courage -to speak out whenever this was necessary, and when, some few months ago, -regulators attempted to introduce into Georgia, in the immediate -vicinity of Atlanta, the same practices as in Lafayette parish in this -State, Mr. Grady, through the _Constitution_, denounced it vigorously. -There were threats, but it did not affect the _Constitution_, which -insisted that the New South must be a South of peace, law and order. - -We cannot at this time review Mr. Grady’s entire journalistic career. It -is sufficient to say that with his colleagues he built up his paper to -be a power in Georgia and the South. His ability was recognized -throughout this section, but it was not until his famous speech at the -New England dinner that his reputation became national. - -When at that dinner, speaking for the New South he so well represented, -he pledged his brethren of the North the patriotic devotion of the -Southern people, he created a sensation. Some of the most famous orators -of the country were present, but without a dissenting voice it was -declared that Mr. Grady’s speech was the event of the day. It sent a -thrill throughout the Union. The Southern people rose to declare that -Mr. Grady had fully explained their views and ideas, and before his -eloquent words the prejudice which had lingered since the war in many -portions of the North disappeared. Perhaps no single event tended more -to bring the sections closer together than that speech, which so -eloquently voiced the true sentiments of the Southern people. A wave of -fraternal feeling swept through the country, and although the Republican -politicians managed to counteract some of the good accomplished, much of -it remained. Mr. Grady deserves remembrance, for in a few words, burning -with eloquence, he swept away the prejudices of years. - -The country discovered that it contained an orator of whom it had known -but little, a statesman who helped to remove the sectional hatred which -had so long retarded its progress. Mr. Grady became at once one of the -best-known men in the Union. He was spoken of for United States Senator, -he was mentioned as Vice-President, and it looked as though he could be -elevated to any position to which he aspired; but he wisely clung to his -journalistic career, satisfied that he could thereby best benefit his -State and section. - -Mr. Grady was not a one-speech man. He has made many addresses since -then, and while it is true that his other speeches did not create the -same sensation as his first, they were all eloquent, able and patriotic. - -His career so auspiciously begun, which promised so much to himself and -the country, has been brought suddenly and prematurely to a close. Mr. -Grady was a young man, and we had every reason to believe that he would -play a leading part in the South and in the country. Although his career -is thus cut short, he had accomplished much, and the New South for which -he spoke will carry on the good work he began of uniting the entire -country on one broad and patriotic platform. - - - ------------------ - - - SECOND TO NONE. - - ------- - - _From the “Louisville Courier-Journal.”_ - -HENRY W. GRADY died at his home in Atlanta yesterday. There is that in -the very announcement which is heart-breaking. He was the rose and -expectancy of the young South, the one publicist of the New South, who, -inheriting the spirit of the old, yet had realized the present, and -looked into the future, with the eyes of a statesman and the heart of a -patriot. His own future was fully assured. He had made his place; had -won his spurs; and he possessed the gifts, not merely to hold them, but -greatly to magnify their importance. That he should be cut down upon the -threshold of a career, for whose brilliant development and broad -usefulness all was prepared, is almost as much a public calamity as it -is a private grief. We tender to his family, and to Georgia, whom he -loved with the adoration of a true son for a mother, the homage of our -respectful and profound sympathy. - -Mr. Grady became a writer for the _Courier-Journal_ when but little more -than a boy and during the darkest days of the Reconstruction period. -There was in those days but a single political issue for the South. Our -hand was in the lion’s mouth, and we could do nothing, hope for nothing, -until we got it out. The young Georgian was ardent, impetuous, the son -of a father slain in battle, the offspring of a section, the child of a -province; yet he rose to the situation with uncommon faculties of -courage and perception; caught the spirit of the struggle against -reaction with perfect reach; and threw himself into the liberal and -progressive movements of the time with the genius of a man born for both -oratory and affairs. He was not long with us. He wished a wider field of -duty, and went East, carrying letters in which he was commended in terms -which might have seemed extravagant then, but which he more than -vindicated. His final settlement in the capital of his native State and -in a position where he could speak directly and responsibly, gave him -the opportunity he had sought to make a fame for himself, and an -audience of his own. Here he carried the policy with which, in the -columns of the _Courier-Journal_, he had early identified himself, to -its finest conclusions; coming at once to the front as a champion of a -free South and a united country, second to none in efficiency, equaled -by none in eloquence. - -He was eager and aspiring, and, in the heedlessness of youth, with its -aggressive ambitions, may not have been at all times discriminating and -considerate in the objects of his attacks; but he was generous to a -fault, and, as he advanced upon the highway, he broadened with it and to -it, and, if he had lived, would have realized the fullest measure of his -own promise and the hopes of his friends. The scales of error, when -error he felt he had committed, were fast falling from his eyes, and he -was frank to own his changed, or changing view. The vista of the way -ahead was opening before him with its far perspective clear to his -mental sight. He had just delivered an utterance of exceeding weight and -value, at once rhetorically fine and rarely solid, and was coming home -to be welcomed by his people with open arms, when the Messenger of Death -summoned him to his last account. The tidings of the fatal termination -of his disorder are startling in their suddenness and unexpectedness, -and will be received North and South with sorrow deep and sincere, and -far beyond the bounds compassed by his personality. - -The _Courier-Journal_ was always proud of him, hailed him as a young -disciple who had surpassed his elders in learning and power, recognized -in him a master voice and soul, followed his career with admiring -interest, and recorded his triumphs with ever-increasing sympathy and -appreciation. It is with poignant regret that we record his death. Such -spirits are not of a generation, but of an epoch; and it will be long -before the South will find one to take the place made conspicuously -vacant by his absence. - - - ------------------ - - - A LOSS TO THE SOUTH. - - ------- - - _From the “Louisville Post.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady, of Atlanta, after so brief an illness and -in the very prime of a vigorous young manhood, will startle the whole -country and will be an especial affliction to the South. Mr. Grady was a -brilliant journalist, a man of brain and heart, and by his sensible and -enthusiastic policy has identified himself with the interests of the New -South. In fact, few men have been more largely instrumental in bringing -about that salutary sentiment, now prevailing, that it is best for the -South to look with hope and courage to the future, rather than to live -in sad inactivity amid the ruins of the past. Mr. Grady was a warm and -confident advocate of industrial advancement in the land of his birth. -He wanted to see the South interlaced with railroads, her rich mineral -deposits opened to development, her cities teeming with factories, her -people busy, contented and prosperous. This was his mission as a man and -as a journalist, and his influence has been widespread. Just at this -time his loss will be doubly severe. - -One morning Henry Grady, who had possessed little more than a sectional -reputation, woke up to find himself famous throughout the nation. By his -speech at a New York banquet he sounded the key-note of fraternal Union -between North and South, and his appeal for mutual trust and confidence, -with commerce and industry to cement more strongly than ever the two -great sections of the country, met with a response from both sides of -Mason and Dixon’s line more hearty than ever before. Many another man -from the South felt the same sentiments and would have expressed them -gladly. Many a man in the North felt that in the South those sentiments -were sincerely held. But Grady had a peculiar opportunity, and right -well did he improve it. He expressed eloquently and forcibly the -feelings, the purposes, the very spirit of the New South, and in that -very moment he made a reputation that is national. It was his good -fortune to express to the business men as well as to the politicians of -the nation the idea of an indivisible union of interests, of sentiments -and of purposes, as well as of territory. - -In Mr. Grady’s own State his death will be most felt. What he has done -for Georgia can only be appreciated by those who compare its present -activity and prosperity with the apathy and discontent which existed -there a few years ago. The dead man will be sincerely mourned, but the -idea which he made the fundamental one of his brief career will continue -to work out the welfare of the New South. - - - ------------------ - - - THE DEATH OF HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - -THE most brilliant journalist of the South is no more. When the news was -sent over the country yesterday morning that Henry W. Grady, the editor -of the Atlanta _Constitution_, was dead, there were sighs of regret -which, if they could have been gathered together into one mass, would -have been heard across the Atlantic. He was peculiarly gifted. With an -imagery and wealth of language that enabled him to clothe the most -uninteresting subject in a pleasing garb, he had at the same time the -genius of common sense more fully developed than most men now -prominently before the public. He was born in 1851 in the town of -Athens, Georgia, and was therefore less than forty years of age. At -college he was remarkable among his fellows for those gifts of speech -and pen which made him famous. To his eternal honor, it can be said that -in neither the sanctum or the forum were his powers used in a way to add -to any one’s sorrow or distress. His writings were clean and pure and in -every line gave token of the kind heart that beat in his bosom. Mr. -Grady was a lovable man. Those who knew him well entertained for him the -deepest affection. His face was itself a fair type of his nature, which -was essentially of the sunshine character. - -He was restlessly energetic and always agitating matters that he -believed would be promotive of the public good. The Cotton States’ -Exposition and the Piedmont Exposition, both held in Atlanta, were -literally the creations of his energy and enthusiasm and pluck. It will -no doubt be readily admitted by his associates of the _Constitution_ -that he was its moving spirit, and by his powers largely made it the -grand and magnificent success that it undeniably is. - -The Young Men’s Christian Association building, costing $100,000, arose -as by magic under the persuasive powers of his tongue and pen. The list -of his works of a practical kind that now add to Atlanta’s character and -position could be indefinitely extended. When he appealed to Atlanta he -never spoke in vain, for in addition to brains and energy he had those -rare qualities of personal magnetism, which made his originality and -zeal wonderfully effective. He entered into everything his big head -conceived with his whole heart and soul. - -He was loyal to his city and State, and never missed an opportunity for -aiding in their advancement. He was sought out by the young and the old, -and enjoyed the full confidence of all who knew him. - -His name and fame, however, were not confined to Georgia. In the Lone -Star State, thousands flocked to the city of Dallas to hear his great -speech at the Texas State Fair. His New York speech, a year or two ago, -fairly thrilled the country and caused the enactment of scenes never -before witnessed on similar occasions. No orator had ever received such -an ovation in that great city, and none such has been since extended to -any speaker. His recent speech at Boston was calculated to do more good -for the entire country than anything that has fallen from the lips of -any man in the last decade. It will be a monument to his memory more -enduring than brass. It made a profound impression on those who heard -it. The sentiments and truths he so boldly uttered are echoing and -re-echoing among the hills of New England and over the prairies of the -great West, and they will bear rich fruit in the near future. They were -things known to us all here, but those who did not know and did not care -have been set to thinking by his eloquent presentation of the Southern -situation. That speech, perhaps, cost him his life; but if it produces -the effect on the Northern mind and heart which it deserves, the great -sacrifice will not have been in vain. His death will cause a more -earnest attention to the great truths he uttered, and result in an -emphasis of them that could not have been attained otherwise, sad as -that emphasis may be. The death of such a man is a national calamity. He -had entered upon a career that would have grown more brilliant each year -of his life. His like will not soon be seen and heard again. - - - ------------------ - - - UNIVERSAL SORROW. - - ------- - - _From the “Nashville American.”_ - -THE news of Mr. Grady’s death is received with universal sorrow. No man -of his age in the South or in the Union has achieved such prominence or -given promise of greater usefulness or higher honors. His reputation as -a journalist was deservedly high; but he won greater distinction, -perhaps, by his public speeches. He was intensely, almost devoutly -Southern, but he had always the respectful attention of the North when -he spoke for the land of his nativity. There was the ring of sincerity -in his fervid utterances, and his audiences, whether in the North or in -the South, felt that every word came hot from the heart. He has done as -much as any man to put the South right before the world; and few have -done more to promote its progress and prosperity. He was a man of -tremendous energy, bodily and mental, and always worked at high tension. -Whatever subject interested him took his mind and body captive, and into -whatever cause he enlisted he threw all the powers of his intellect and -all the force of a nature ardent, passionate, and enthusiastic in the -extreme. It is probable that the disease which laid hold of him found -him an easier prey because of the restless energy which had pushed his -physical powers beyond their capacity. His nervous and impetuous -temperament showed no mercy to the physical man and made it impossible -for him to exercise a prudent self-restraint even when the danger of a -serious illness was present with him. - -Mr. Grady’s personal traits were such as won the love of all who knew -him. All knew the brilliant intellect; but few knew the warm, unselfish -heart. The place which he held in public esteem was but one side of his -character; the place which he held in the hearts of his friends was the -other. - -The South has other men of genius and of promise; but none who combine -the rare and peculiar qualities which made Henry W. Grady, at the age of -thirty-eight, one of the most conspicuous men of his generation. - - - ------------------ - - - THE HIGHEST PLACE. - - ------- - - _From the “Charleston News and Courier.”_ - -THE death of Henry W. Grady has removed from earth the most prominent -figure among the younger generation of public men in America. He held -unquestionably the highest place in the admiration and regard of the -people of the South that was accorded to any man of his years, and had -won, indeed, by his own efforts and attainments a place among the older -and the most honored representatives of the people of the whole country. -It was said of him by a Northern writer, a few days before his death, -that no other Southern man could command so large a share of the -attention of the Northern people, and his death was the result of a -visit to New England, whither he went in response to an earnest -invitation to speak to the people of that section upon a question of the -gravest national concern. - -The people of Georgia both honored and loved Henry Grady, and would have -elected him to any office within their gift. It is probable that, had he -lived but a little while longer, he would have been made Governor of the -State, or commissioned to represent it in the Senate of the United -States. He would have filled either of these positions acceptably and -with credit to himself; and perhaps even higher honors awaited him. When -his name was mentioned a few months ago in connection with the -nomination for the second highest office in the gift of the people of -the whole country, the feeling was general and sincere that he was fully -worthy, at least, of the great dignity which it was proposed to confer -upon him. Certainly no other evidence is required to prove that the -brave and brilliant young Georgian was a marked man, and that he had -already made a deep impression on the events and the men of his time -when he was so suddenly stricken down in the flower of useful and -glorious manhood. - -It is inexpressibly saddening to contemplate the untimely ending of so -promising a career. Only a few days ago the brightest prospect that -could open before the eyes of any young man in all this broad land lay -before the eyes of Henry Grady. To-day his eyes are closed to all -earthly scenes. To-morrow the shadows of the grave will close around him -forever. But it will be long before his influence will cease to be felt. -The memory of his kindly, gracious presence, of his eloquent words and -earnest work, of his generous deeds and noble example in the discharge -of all the duties of citizenship, will ever remain with those who knew -him best and loved him most. - -To his wife and children he has left a rich inheritance in his honored -name, though he had left them nothing else. The people of his State and -of the South owe him a large debt of gratitude. He served them -faithfully and devotedly. What he said so well, only a few months ago, -of one who served with him, and who like him was stricken down in the -prime of his life, can be said of Henry Grady himself. It is true of him -also that “his leadership has never been abused, its opportunities never -wasted, its power never prostituted, its suggestions never misdirected.” -Georgia surely is a better and more prosperous State “because he lived -in it and gave his life freely and daily to her service.” - -And surely, again, “no better than this could be said of any man,” as he -said, and for as much to be written, in truth and sincerity, over his -grave, the best and proudest man might be willing to toil through life -and to meet death at last, as he met it, “unfearing and tranquil.” His -own life, and the record and the close of his life, are best described -in these his own words, written ten months ago, and, perhaps, no more -fitting epitaph could be inscribed on his tomb than the words which he -spoke, almost at the last, in the hour of his death: “Send word to -mother to pray for me. Tell her if I die, that I died while trying to -serve the South—the land I love so well.” - - - ------------------ - - - A BRILLIANT CAREER. - - ------- - - _From the “Baltimore Sun.”_ - -THE death yesterday at Atlanta of Henry W. Grady, editor of the -_Constitution_ of that city, is a distressing shock to the thousands -North and South who had learned to admire his vigorous and impressive -utterances on public subjects. Young, enterprising, industrious and -devoted to the material advancement of his State and section, he was a -type of the progressive Southern man of our day. In the face of the -greatest possible difficulties and discouragements he achieved success, -intellectual and financial, of a most substantial character. Mr. Grady’s -career was brief and meteoric, but it was also a useful career. His -strong grasp of present facts enabled him to guide and stimulate the -energies of those about him into profitable channels. Full of ideas, -which his intense, nervous nature fused into sentiment, he exerted an -influence which greatly promoted the progress and prosperity of his -section. Outside his own State Mr. Grady will be best known, however, as -a brilliant and eloquent speaker. For some years past his speeches at -social gatherings of a semi-public character in Northern cities have -attracted a great deal of attention North and South. His earlier -utterances were a trifle effusive, conceding overmuch, perhaps, under -the inspiration of the moment, to the prejudices of his audience. In -discussing fiscal measures he was sometimes at fault, political economy -not being his strongest point, but as regards the relations of the -sections, and especially as regards the so-called Southern problem, he -was a beacon of light to his Northern auditors. His last speech at -Boston the other day—the delivery of which may be said to have brought -about his death—is a fitting monument of his genius and impassioned -eloquence. It thrilled the country with its assertion of the right of -the white race of the South to intelligent government and its -determination never again to submit to the misrule of the African. Mr. -Grady’s speech on this occasion was remarkable not only for its fervor -and frankness—which conciliated his most unrelenting political -opponents—but also for its wealth of recent fact, concisely stated and -conclusive upon the point he had in view. Is the full vote, as shown by -the census, not always cast in Southern elections? Neither is it cast in -Northern States, Mr. Grady showed, appealing to the facts of the -elections of November last. “When,” President Harrison asked in his last -message, referring to the colored voter of the South—“when is he to have -those full civic rights which have so long been his in law?” He will -have them, Mr. Grady answered, when the poor, ignorant, and dependent -employé everywhere gets his. The colored voter of the South cannot be -reasonably expected, he pointed out, to exercise his civil rights to a -greater extent than such rights are exercised by persons in his position -in the North and West. The point of view here taken was new to Mr. -Grady’s audience and new to the Northern press. The effect of his -speech, as a whole, upon Northern opinion has been, it is believed, most -beneficial. In the South it was welcomed as an effort to put the -Northern partisan in a position to see in their true light the hardship -and danger with which the South is perpetually confronted. In some -remarks made later at the Bay State Club, in Boston, Mr. Grady adverted -to a larger problem—one that confronts the whole country. “It seems to -me,” he said, “that the great struggle in this country is a fight -against the consolidation of power, the concentration of capital, the -domination of local sovereignty and the dwarfing of the individual -citizen. It is the democratic doctrine that the citizen is master, and -that he is best fitted to carry out the diversified interests of the -country. It is the pride, I believe, of the South that her simple and -sturdy faith, the homogeneous nature of her people, elevate her citizens -above party. We teach the man that his best guide is the consciousness -of his sovereignty; that he may not ask the national government for -anything the State can do for him, and not ask anything of the State -that he can do for himself.” These views mark the breadth of the -speaker’s statesmanship, and show that it embraced interests wider than -those of his own section—as wide, in fact, as the continent itself. Mr. -Grady died of pneumonia, complicated with nervous prostration. His early -death, at the outset of a most promising career, is a warning to others -of our public men who are under a constant nervous tension. Attempting -too much, they work under excessive pressure, and when, owing to some -accident, they need a margin of strength, there is none. - - - ------------------ - - - A PUBLIC CALAMITY. - - ------- - - _From the “Selma Times and Mail.”_ - -AT forty minutes past three o’clock on Monday morning Henry W. Grady, -the distinguished editor of the Atlanta _Constitution_, died at his home -of pneumonia. No announcement of the death of any leading man of the -South has ever created a more profound impression, or caused more -genuine and universal sorrow than will the sad news of the demise of -this brilliant young Georgian, coming as it does when he was at the very -zenith of his fame and usefulness. The death of Mr. Grady is a public -calamity that will be mourned by the entire country. It is no -exaggeration to say that no orator in the United States since the days -of S. S. Prentiss has had such wonderful power over his audiences as -Henry W. Grady. This fact has been most forcibly illustrated by his two -memorable speeches at the North, the first in New York something over a -year ago, the second recently delivered in Boston and with the praises -of which the country is still ringing. Sad, sad indeed to human -perception that such a brilliant light should have been extinguished -when it was shining the brightest and doing the most to dispel the mists -of prejudice. But an All-wise Providence knows best. His servant had run -his course, he had fulfilled his destiny. The heart of the South has -been made sad to overflowing in a short space of time. Davis—Grady, -types of the past and the present, two noble representatives of the -highest order of Southern manhood and intelligence, representing two -notable eras, have passed away and left a brilliant mark on the pages of -history. - -Henry W. Grady was a native Georgian. He was born in Athens in 1851, and -consequently was too young to participate in the late war, but his -father lost his life in defense of the Confederate cause, and the son -was an ardent lover of the South. At an early age he developed -remarkable talent for journalism and entered the profession as the -editor of the Rome, Ga., _Commercial_. After conducting this paper for -several years he moved to Atlanta, and established the _Daily Herald_. -When Mr. Grady came to the _Constitution_ in 1880 he soon became famous -as a correspondent, and his letters were read far and wide, and when he -assumed editorial control of the _Constitution_, the paper at once felt -the impulse of his genius, and from that day has pushed steadily forward -in popular favor and in influence until both it and its brilliant editor -gained national reputation. No agencies have been more potent for the -advancement of Atlanta than Grady and the _Constitution_, the three -indissolubly linked together, and either of the three names suggests the -other. - -As a type of the vigorous young Southerner of the so-called New South -Mr. Grady has won the admiration of the country and gone far to the -front, but he has been the soul of loyalty to his section, and has ever -struck downright and powerful blows for the Democratic cause and for the -rule of intelligence in the South. From the Potomac to the Rio Grande -all over our beautiful Southland to-day, there will be mourning and -sympathy with Georgia for the loss of her gifted son. - - - ------------------ - - - GRIEF TEMPERS TO-DAY’S JOY. - - ------- - - _From the “Austin, Tex., Statesman.”_ - -WHEN an old man, full of years, and smitten with the decrepitude they -bring, goes down to the grave, the world, though saddened, bows its -acquiescence. It is recognized that lonely journey is a thing foredoomed -from the foundation of the world—it is the way of all things mortal. But -when a young man, full of the vigor of a sturdy life growing into its -prime, is suddenly stricken from the number of the quick, a nation is -startled and, resentful of the stroke, would rebel, but that such -decrees come from a Power that earth cannot reach, and which, though -working beyond the ken of fallible understanding, yet doeth all things -well. - -For the second time within the past two weeks the South has been called -upon to mourn the demise of a chosen and well-beloved son. The two men -may be classified according to an analysis first of all instituted by -him whose funeral to-day takes place in Atlanta. Jefferson Davis was -typical of the Old South—Henry W. Grady of the New. And by this we mean -not that the South has put away those things that, as a chosen and proud -people, they have cherished since first there was a State government in -the South. They have the same noble type of manhood, the same chivalrous -ambitions, the same love of home and state and country, they are as -determined in purpose, as unswerving in the application of principle. -But what is meant is that the material conditions of the South have -changed, the economics of an empire of territory have been radically -altered. Not only has a new class of field labor taken the place of the -long-accustomed slave help, but industries unknown in the South before -the war have invaded our fair lands, and the rush and whir of -manufactories are all around us. It is in this that the South has -changed. Jefferson Davis, in his declining years ushered into the reign -of peace, was never truly identified with the actualities of the living -present, in the sense of a man who, from the present, was for himself -carving out a future. His life was past, and for him the past contained -the most of earthly life—his was an existence of history, not of -activity—he was the personification of the Old South. - -Mr. Grady was too young to have participated in the Civil War. He was -then but a boy, and has grown into manhood and power since the time when -the issues that gave birth to that war were settled. His has been a life -of the realistic present. He brought to a study of the changes that were -going on around him a keenly perceptive and a well-trained mind—he -studied the problems that surrounded him thoroughly and conscientiously, -and his conclusions were almost invariably the soundest. He realized the -importance and responsibility of his position as the editor of a widely -circulating newspaper, and he was unfaltering in his zeal to discharge -his every duty with credit to himself and profit to his people. He was -the champion of the Southern people through the columns of his paper and -upon the rostrum—and when he fell beneath the unexpected stroke of the -grim reaper, the South lost a true and valiant friend, the ablest -defender with pen and word retort this generation has known. - -As two weeks ago the South bowed in sorrow over the last leaf that had -fluttered down from the tree of the past, so to-day, as the mortal -remains of Henry W. Grady are lowered into the tomb, she should cease -from the merriment of the gladsome holiday season, and drop a tear upon -the grave of him who, though so young in years, had in such brilliant -paragraphs bidden defiance to ancient prejudice, scoffed at partisan -bigotry, and proudly invited the closest scrutiny and criticism of the -South. That South in him has lost a warm-hearted friend whom manhood -bids us mourn. - - - ------------------ - - - HENRY GRADY’S DEATH. - - ------- - - _From the “Charleston Evening Sun.”_ - -HENRY GRADY is dead. - -With what an electric shock of pain and grief will this simple -announcement thrill the entire country. His death, following close upon -the death of the chieftain of the Old South—full of age and honors, and -followed to the grave by the reverential and chastened grief of a whole -people—is in striking contrast and more poignant in its nature, since -the young Hercules thus prematurely cut down had just sprung to the -front as leader and chieftain of the New South, and was largely the -embodiment of her renaissance, her rejuvenescent life and hopes and -aspirations, as the other was of her dead and sacred past. - -In the prime of life and the flower of robust manhood, having just -signalized himself by a triumph in which all his powers of culture, -talent, and patriotism were taxed to the highest and nobly responded to -the demand made them, and having placed himself in the foremost ranks of -the world’s great men as a splendid type of the South’s peculiar -qualities, as a worthy heir of the virtues of the Old South, and as the -strongest champion of the hopes of the New, his death at this time is to -her a distinct calamity. And yet for his own individual fame’s sake it -is to be doubted whether Mr. Grady, lived he “a thousand years, would -find” himself “so apt to die,” as now in the zenith of his fame, with -his “blushing honors thick upon him.” - -With Burke he could say, “I can shut the book. I might wish to read a -page or two more. But this is enough for my measure.” - -Mr. Grady had gained the attention of the Northern ear and the -confidence of the Northern people as no other Southerner could boast of -having done. When those “grave and reverend seigniors” of the stern, -inflexible, unemotional Puritan race, who not a fortnight since, in -Boston’s banquet hall, wept manly unused tears at the magic eloquence -and pathos of the young Southerner’s words, and fell to love him for the -uncompromising truth, the manliness, the directness and the candor of -them, and for the personal grace and fascination and humanitarian -kindliness of the speaker—when they learn that this being, so lately -among them, the chief object of their care and attention, and so -sentient-seeming and bounding with life and the God-given inspiration of -more than mortal vigor called genius—that this being, so gifted, so -sanguine, lies cold and breathless in the chill arms of death, shall -they not, and through them the great people of whom they are the -proudest representatives, mingle their tears with ours over the mortal -remains of this new dead son of the South, in whose heart was no -rankling of the old deathly fratricidal bitterness, but whose voice was -ever raised for the re-cementing of the fraternal ties so rudely broken -by the late huge world-shaking internecine strife? - -And shall not his great appeal—yet echoing over the country—for justice, -moderation, forbearance, appreciation for the South and the social evil -under which she is providentially unequally laboring to her destiny, be -inerasibly impressed upon the country, coming as it does from the lips -of a dying man? - -In the death of Jefferson Davis the last barrier to a complete reunion -of the sections was removed. In the death of Henry Grady the North and -the South will be brought together to mourn a mutual bereavement. If it -shall be the cause of completing the reunion of the sections, his sad -and untimely death will not have been in vain. - - - ------------------ - - - TWO DEAD MEN. - - ------- - - _From the “Greenville, S. C., News.”_ - -IN the early days of this last month of the year Jefferson Davis, old, -feeble and weary, was lifted gently from this world to the other, borne -across the river in the arms of Death as softly as a tired child carried -on a father’s breast. Yesterday Henry Grady, a young, strong man, -rejoicing in his growing strength, with the blood of life and power and -hope bounding through his veins, flushed with the triumph of new and -splendid achievement and returned to his home with the proud burden of -fresh laurels well won, was swiftly struck down by that relentless power -and taken from the world he graced and lighted, to be known and heard no -more. - -When Mr. Davis died the people of the South turned back to mourn, to -heap high the tributes of their honor and affection on the grave wherein -sleeps the representative of a cause lost except to memory, of a past -gone forever. When Grady went down, a captain of the host, a leader of -the present battle, fell, and along all the far-stretching lines the -shock and loss will be felt. - -He was happy in the time of his death—happy as is the soldier who falls -in the supreme moment of triumph, when he has struck a grand and -sweeping blow for his cause and the proclamation of his glory and -jubilation of his comrades make music to attend his soul in its -departure. He had led in the steady march of the South upward to -prosperity and a high place among the peoples of the earth; his watchful -eye was everywhere in the ranks; his spirit of courage and hope was felt -everywhere. His voice rang out clear and stirring as the trumpet’s blare -to arouse the lagging, to call the faltering forward, to fill all the -air with faith in the South and the glory of her future, so that weak -men grew strong in breathing it and the timid were fired with the valor -of belief. He stood high and far in the front and proclaimed to all the -world the spirit and the purpose of the young men of his country—the men -young in heart and living and thinking in the atmosphere and light of -to-day. He proclaimed it so well that the measured music of his words -was heard above the clamoring of hate and penetrated the dullness of -indifferent ears, moving the hearts of the people to unity and -stimulating the manhood of the country to shake from it factional and -sectional rage and consecrate itself to a common patriotism, a single -love for a great Republic. - -That was his work, and he died doing it as no other man had done it. He -had gained his place by the power of his own strength before his years -had brought him to the prime of his manhood, and he fell in it just -after he had stood shoulder to shoulder and shared hearing and honors -with the country’s foremost man who has occupied the country’s highest -place. - -His life was crowded with successful endeavor; in deeds, in achievement -for his country and his people and in honors he was an old man. He had -done in less than two-score years more than it is given to most men to -do to the time of whitened hair and trembling limbs, and he had earned -his rest. The world had little more to offer him but its inevitable -cares and disappointments; the promise from his past was that he had -much more to do for the world and his fellow-man. The loss is his -country’s. - -His whole country—and especially the South he loved so well—owes to his -memory what it cannot now express to him—honor and gratitude. - -His powerful presence is gone; the keen and watchful eyes are closed -forever; the vibrant voice is hushed. But his words will live, his work -will last and grow; his memory will stand high on the roll of the -South’s sons who have wrought gloriously for her in war and in peace, -who by valor or wisdom have won the right to be remembered with love and -called with pride. - - - ------------------ - - - GRADY’S RENOWN. - - ------- - - _From the “Birmingham News.”_ - -NO such universality of personal poignant sorrow ever pervaded a city as -that which overshadows the capital of Georgia. There, everybody knew -Henry Grady, and it was not the journalist and orator and statesman they -saluted familiarly everywhere—in public assemblies and on the streets -and at their firesides. Every home in the city was in fact the home of -the kindly, generous, laughing philosopher, whose business it was to -make his people happy, his city prosperous, and his State the foremost -of Southern commonwealths. - -And then his grand purpose in life was the restoration of the unity and -integrity of the States. His speeches in New York and Boston, that will -live as long as unhappy memories of inter-State hostilities, which he -proposed to dissipate forever, followed one another naturally. The first -portrayed the necessity for a perfect Federal Union. The second and last -defined the only method of achieving it. The first paved the way for a -presidential contest, from which sectional issues were almost wholly -eviscerated. President Cleveland was so thoroughly imbued with the -sentiment and purpose of Grady’s oration at the New England dinner in -New York that he hazarded, or sacrificed, deliberately the certainty of -partisan and personal triumph that the country might escape greater -calamities, involved necessarily in a conflict in which African -ex-slaves became the sole subject of passionate controversy and -maddening declamation. The campaign was one of practical and not -sentimental issues. - -Everybody has read the recent more wonderful outburst of passionate -eloquence that startled Boston and the East, and forced New England, for -the first time, to contemplate the relations of races in the South as -did Mr. Grady, and as do New Englanders themselves, having homes in the -Gulf States. Facts propounded were unquestionable, palpable truths. -There was no answer to his irrefragable logic. Grady’s matchless -eloquence charmed every listener. His peroration will become the -choicest specimen of impassioned oratory declaimed by schoolboys in -every academy in which proper pedagogues inculcate proper patriotism in -all this broad land. - -Then came Grady’s death. It shocked the country that a man so gifted and -the only American capable of pronouncing an oration as faultless as the -philippics of Demosthenes, or as the sturdy, resistless orations of -Gladstone, could not live immortal as his prophetic sentences that still -illumine the brain and electrify the heart of an entire people. - -Grady’s two speeches in the East, if he had never written or spoken -aught else, would be the Leuctra and Mantinea, immortal victories and -only daughters of an Epaminondas. If there survived no other children of -Henry Grady’s genius than these two, his renown would be as lasting as -the glory and greatness and peace of the Republic which he gave his life -to assure. - - - ------------------ - - - HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - _From the “Augusta Chronicle.”_ - -TWO weeks ago the people of the South were called upon to mourn the -death of Jefferson Davis. An aged man was gathered to his home in the -fullness of years, with his life-work done. He was the embodiment of a -sacred past, and men turned with reverence to do him honor for the cause -he had championed. - -To-day the people again note the presence of the Great Reaper. This time -a young man is cut down in the prime of life. His work lay bright before -him. His face was toward the morning. The one represented all that the -South had been: the other much that she hoped to be. He was the -inspiration of a renewed and awakened South with a heart full of -reverence and hope and buoyancy—bound to the past by tender memories, -but confident of the future with all the heartiness of a sanguine -nature. Possibly it was because of the progressive sentiments which he -breathed that all sections and all people are to-day in grief over the -gifted dead. There is mourning in every Georgia hamlet, such as there -has been for no young man since Thomas R. R. Cobb was brought home a -corpse from Fredericksburg. There are tributes of respect from Boston, -where he stood last week, with his face aglow with the light of a newer -life, to Texas, where last year he delivered a message of fiery -eloquence to his people. It was the national feeling which Henry Grady -had kindled in the South—a faith in our future, a devotion to the -Union—a practical setting to our destiny—that now lament the loss of -such a man, and which sends over the wires from every section of the -country the words, “Untimely, how untimely!” - -Henry W. Grady was born in Athens. He was but thirty-eight when he died. -His father was a country merchant who kept his family in competency, and -the house, where little Henry used to leave his romping playmates to -read Dickens under the trees, now stands on Prince avenue, with its deep -shades, its gleaming white pillars, its high fence and old-time -appearance. When war came on the elder Grady went out with his company. -His name now indents the marble side of the soldiers’ monument in -Athens—erected to those who fell in battle. Educated at the State -University, Henry Woodfin Grady graduated in 1868. In his class were -Albert H. Cox, George T. Goetchius, P. W. Meldrin, Julius L. Brown, W. -W. Thomas and J. H. Rucker—among the living—and Charles S. DuBose, -Walter S. Gordon, Davenport Jackson, and F. Bowdre Phinizy among the -dead. In college Henry Grady was more of a reader than a student. He -knew every character in Dickens and could repeat the Christmas Stories -by heart. He was a bright, companionable boy, full of frankness, -brimming over with fun and kindness, and without a thought of the great -career that lay before him. From Athens he went to Rome where he engaged -in newspaper work. His letters to the Atlanta papers attracted the -attention of Col. I. W. Avery, who gave him several odd jobs. There was -a dash and creaminess in his sketch work which became popular at once. -From Rome young Grady went to Atlanta, and with Col. Robert A. Alston -started the Atlanta _Herald_. - -From this time he has been a public figure in Georgia. The _Herald_ was -immensely popular. Its methods were all new. Grady widened its columns -to make it look like Horace Greeley’s paper, and hired special engines -in imitation of James Gordon Bennett. He made money but spent it -lavishly for news. His editorial sketches were wonderfully clever. His -“Last Man in the Procession,” “The Trained Journalist,” “Toombs and -Brown,” attracted wide attention. But the _Herald_ could not stand this -high pressure. Under the cool, skilled management of the _Constitution_, -Grady’s paper succumbed, and with it all of his private means were lost. -The young man in 1876 was absolutely penniless. It was then his genius -burst forth, however. The New York _Herald_ ordered everything he could -write. The Augusta _Constitutionalist_ paid for his letters from -Atlanta. He started a Sunday paper, which he afterwards gave up, and -pretty soon he was regularly engaged by the Atlanta _Constitution_. -During the electoral trouble in Florida, Grady kept the Northern papers -full of luminous sketches about politics and fraud. Then he commenced to -write up the orange interests in Florida, winning the attention of the -North and attracting scores of visitors to the Land of Flowers. Next he -took up bee culture and stock raising in Georgia. He made the sand pear -of Thomasville famous. He revived the melon interest, and, in his -wizard-like way, got the people to believe in diversified farming. There -was a richness and lightness in his touch which added interest to the -most practical subject. What he handled was adorned. He drew people to -Atlanta by his pen-pictures of a growing town. In the Philadelphia -_Times_ of this period were fine letters about public men and battles of -the war. He became a personality as well as a power in journalism. No -man was better known in Georgia than Henry Grady. - -Henry Grady, shortly after he left college, was married to Miss Jule -King, daughter of Dr. Wm. King, of Athens. Two children, Gussie and -Henry, bear his name. Mr. Grady’s work on the _Constitution_ was -inspirational. When he became interested he would apply himself closely, -working night and day in a campaign or upon a crusade. Then he would -lighten up, contenting himself with general supervision; frequently -taking trips away for diversion. He was singularly temperate—not -drinking wine or using tobacco; but his emotional nature kept him -constantly at concert pitch. His nervous system was in perpetual strain -and he sank as soon as stricken. - -It was in 1877 that he made his first appearance as a speaker. His -lecture that year, entitled “Patchwork Palace,” showed his fancy and -talent as a talker as well as a writer. Then came his speeches in the -prohibition contest in 1885. His New England banquet address in -December, 1886, was his first distinctive political speech. It stamped -him as an eloquent orator and made him national fame. His oration at the -Augusta Exposition on Thanksgiving day last year was a perfect effort, -and his Dallas address in October was a fearless and manly analysis of -the race problem. It was this subject, classified and digested, that -made up his Boston address, where, last week, he completed his fame and -met his death. His address last year at the University of Virginia was a -model of its kind. - -Of late years Henry Grady had been settling down to the level of a solid -worker, a close thinker and safe leader. If there was anything in his -way to wide influence in earlier life, it was his irrepressible fancy -and bubbling spirit. These protruded in speech and writing. But as he -grew older he lopped off this redundant tegument. He never lost the -artist’s touch or the poet’s enthusiasm. But age and experience brought -conservatism. He became a power in politics from the day the _Herald_ -backed Gordon for the Senate in 1872. He followed Ben Hill in his -campaign with great skill, and in 1880 did as much as any man to win the -great Colquitt-Brown victory. In 1886 he managed Gen. Gordon’s canvass -for Governor, and in 1887 planned and conducted the first successful -Piedmont Exposition. - -Some may say that Henry Grady died at the right time for his fame. This -may be true as to others, but not as to him. They know not, who thus -judge him, what was in the man. Some mature early in life and their -mentality is not increased by length of years, but the mind of our dead -friend was constantly developing. The evidence of this was his Boston -speech, which in our opinion was the best ever delivered by him. No man -could foresee the possibilities of such a mind as his. He had just -reached the table land on the mountain top, from which his mental vision -could calmly survey the true situation of the South, and his listening -countrymen would hear his inspiring admonitions of truth, wisdom and -patriotism. Mr. Grady had firmly planted his feet on the ladder of fame. -He had the genius of statesmanship, and, had he lived, we have no doubt -that he would have measured up to the full stature of the most gifted -statesmen whose names adorn the annals of the Republic. - -In speaking of the loss to this section, we do not wish to indulge in -the language of exaggeration when we say that the South has lost her -most gifted, eloquent and useful son. His death to Georgia is a personal -bereavement. His loss to the country is a public one. He loved Georgia. -He loved the South. With the ardor of a patriot he loved his whole -country, and his last public words touched the patriotic heart of the -people and the responsive throb came back from all sections for a -re-united people and a restored Union. - -Henry Grady has not lived in vain. He is dead, but his works will live -after him and bear fruits in the field of patriotism. - -There was one thing about Henry Grady. He never ran for office or seemed -to care for public honor. In the white heat of politics for fifteen -years he has been mostly concerned in helping others. The young men of -the State who have sought and secured his aid in striving for public -station are many. But until last year when his own name was mentioned -for the national Senate he had shunned such prominence. At that time it -was seriously urged against him that he had never served in the -Legislature and that his training had not been in deliberative bodies. -But the time was coming when he must have held high public place. The -Governor’s chair or the Senator’s toga would have been his in the near -future. His leadership in practical matters, in great public works, the -impulse he had given the people in building up the material interests of -the South were carrying him so rapidly to the front that he could not -have kept out of public office. But his position at the time of his -death was unique. He was a power behind the throne, mightier than the -throne itself. He was a Warwick like Thurlow Weed. Whether official -station could have increased his usefulness is a question. Whether his -influence would have been advanced by going into politics was a problem -which he had never settled in his own mind. Already he had a -constituency greater than that of governor or senator. He spoke every -week to more people than the chief magistrate of any state in the Union. -He employed a vehicle of more power than the great seal of the State. He -wrote with the pen of genius and spoke the free inspiration of an -untrammeled citizen. He was under no obligations but duty and his own -will. He made friends rather than votes and his reward was the love and -admiration of his people—a more satisfactory return than the curule -chair. - -And so his death, cruel, untimely and crushing, may have been a crown to -a noble, devoted and gifted life. His happiness, his influence, his -reputation had little to ask in the turmoil of politics. Its -uncertainties and ingratitudes would have bruised a guileless, generous -heart. Not that he was unequal to it, but because he did not need public -office, may we seek satisfaction in the fact that he lived and died a -faithful worker and a private citizen. His last plea was for the people -of a slandered section—an answer to the President that “the South was -not striving to settle the negro problem.” It was an inspiration and -wrung praise from friend and opponent. It cost him his life, but no man -ever gave up life in nobler cause. He lived to see his State prosperous, -his reputation Union-wide, his name honored and loved, his professional -work full of success, and no man has gone to the grave with greater -evidences of tenderness and respect. - -As Grady said of Dawson, so let us say of Grady: “God keep thee, -comrade; rest thy soul in peace, thou golden-hearted gentleman!” - - - ------------------ - - - TRUE AND LOYAL. - - ------- - - _From the “Athens Banner.”_ - -HENRY GRADY has done as much for his country as any man, be he living or -dead. He has stood by his people and their institutions, and his pen and -his voice were always heard in their defence. Henry Grady died as he -lived—battling for the good name of the South, and in defending his -people from the slander of their enemies. In their grief over the death -of this brilliant young journalist and statesman, his section will shed -as bitter tears as were showered upon the bier of Jefferson Davis. One -died full of years and honor—the other was cut down in the prime of -manhood, and spread out before him was the brightest future ever -vouchsafed to man. His loss to the South is irreparable. There is no one -who can take his place. - -But the beautiful traits of Grady’s character were best known to his own -people. He was as true to his friends as is the needle to the pole—his -hands were ever open to appeals for charity—he was loyalty itself—his -heart was as guileless as a child’s and as innocent as a woman’s—his -whole aim and ambition was to do good, develop his section, and stand by -his people, and do manly battle for their good name and their rights. - - - ------------------ - - - MR. GRADY’S DEATH. - - ------- - - _From the “Savannah Times.”_ - -HENRY WOODFIN GRADY, Georgia’s bright particular genius, is dead! - -A dread disease contracted in the bleak North barely a fortnight ago, -cut him down ere he had hardly stepped across the threshold of what -promised to be the most remarkable life of its generation. Here, in his -dearly loved mother State, his brilliant mind was a source of pride to -the whole people. Throughout the length and breadth of the South, which -owed him incalculably much, Henry Grady’s name is a household word. And -as no other Southerner, save possibly our illustrious Gordon, he had -caught the ear, aye, and the heart of hearts of the Northern land. Yes, -and beyond the seas his fame had gone, and in foreign climes his -intellect had impressed the intellectual. To the manner born, he loved -his State and his South with all the ardor of the highest type of -patriot. His tongue was never silent nor his inkhorn dry when our people -were aspersed. He met traducers with truths and a glittering wit which -were matchless. - -Grady was a genius born. His work has proved it. Ah! the sad part of it -is that Death has snatched him with so much of the grand mission which -was plainly his unfinished. Nature seldom endows her children with the -gifts with which she favored Grady. Among modern orators he was the peer -of any and his pen spoke as eloquently as his tongue. Whether at his -desk or facing an audience, his thoughts found expression in a rapid, -graceful, forcible style. No man was more entertaining in private life, -though it must be confessed that Mr. Grady had moments when he became so -absorbed in his own thoughts that he was oblivious to what was passing -around him, and men who knew him not were apt to do him an injustice in -judging him. His life was devoted to Atlanta and Georgia, and to the -effacing of the sectional line which divided the South and the North. -The bringing of the people of the two sections into closer relations of -thought and industry was a mission which it did seem had been especially -reserved for him. No man in the North has shown the breadth of view -which marked this Georgian. His last public utterance attracted the -attention of the English-speaking world as no other speech in recent -years has done and, while the applause was still echoing from shore to -shore of this continent, he was stricken. - -In his chosen profession, newspaper work, Grady illustrated its great -possibilities. What the elder Bennett, Thurlow Weed and Greeley were to -the press of the North, Grady was to the press of the South. Public -honors were undoubtedly awaiting him, and he had but to stretch out his -hand. - -A Roman emperor’s boast was that he found the Eternal City one of bricks -and left it one of marble. Henry Grady found Atlanta an unpretentious -town and literally made it the most progressive city in the South. - - - ------------------ - - - A GREAT LOSS TO GEORGIA. - - ------- - - _From the “Columbus Enquirer-Sun.”_ - -“HENRY W. GRADY died at 3:40 o’clock this morning.” - -Such was the brief dispatch received early yesterday morning by the -_Enquirer-Sun_. A simple announcement of the death of a private citizen, -but of one who had endeared himself to the people of his native State -and the entire South, and little wonder is it that it should have caused -considerable sensation throughout the city and been the cause of -numerous inquiries. - -The brilliant Grady dead! He who had just returned from a triumphant -ovation at the North where he attracted profound attention by the -delivery of one of the grandest, most comprehensive and magnificent -speeches on a subject of vital importance to the South and the -country—cold in the embrace of death. The news was so sad and unexpected -that it was difficult to realize, and surprise was engulfed in one -universal expression of sorrow and regret, as the full force of the -direful announcement, “Grady is dead!” was impressed on the public mind. - -The bright, genial, brilliant and magnetic Grady! The fearless, eloquent -and talented young Georgian whose name is synonymous with that of his -native State throughout this broad land; the earnest, industrious, -versatile and able journalist, dead! Cut down in the very prime of life; -at the very threshold of a career which held forth greater promise of -fame and honors than that of any man in the State at the present moment. -This knowledge adds weight to the grief that fills every heart in -Georgia at the thought that Henry Grady is no more. - -His death is not only a great loss to Atlanta in whose building up he -had given the full vigor of his great intellect and tireless energy, the -State, whose devoted lover and earnest pleader he was, and the South at -large, whose fearless eloquent champion he had ever proved himself on -many memorable occasions, but to the country. No man of the present age -has done more to bring about a thorough understanding between the two -sections than Henry Grady. While there may have been in his two notable -speeches at New York and Boston some declarations in which there was not -universal coincidence of opinion, either North or South, it is generally -recognized that great good has been accomplished in giving the -intelligent and fair-minded people of the North a clearer and better -insight into Southern affairs and removing unjust prejudices. The people -of the South and of Georgia owe much to Henry Grady, and will ever hold -in grateful and affectionate remembrance his good work in their behalf. - -Georgia has not produced a citizen who, in private station, has achieved -such renown, and who has so absorbed the affections of the people as -Henry W. Grady. In every city, town, and hamlet throughout the State, -will his death be mourned, and regret, deep and universal, expressed -that the State should be deprived of the services of a citizen so useful -and valuable at almost the very commencement of a glorious and brilliant -career. - -Grady was magnetic, eloquent, warm-hearted, and impulsive, and numbered -his personal and devoted friends, as he did his admirers, by the -thousands. The writer had known him long and intimately, and thoroughly -appreciated his kindness of heart and the strength of his friendship, -and his regret at the loss of the State is heightened by the knowledge -of the loss of a personal friend and associate. - -The sincerity of the grief which pervades Georgia to-day is the greatest -tribute that can be paid to the memory of this peerless young Georgian -who, in his peculiar magnetism, was simply incomparable. - -To his beloved wife and children, and his proud, fond mother, at this -hour of fearful bereavement the heartfelt sympathies of the entire State -are extended. May God in his infinite mercy temper the force of this -terrible blow to them, and enable them to bow in Christian resignation -to His Divine will. - - - ------------------ - - - THE MAN ELOQUENT. - - ------- - - _From the “Rome Tribune.”_ - -IN the hush of that dark hour which just precedes the dawn—in its -silence and darkness, while Love kept vigil by his couch of pain and -breathed sweet benedictions on his dying brow—the spirit of Henry Grady, -the South’s fame-crowned son—her lover and her champion—the Man -Eloquent—the courtly gentleman—whose laureled brow while yet flushed -with earth’s triumphs towered into immortality—the spirit of this man of -love and might passed from the scenes which its radiance had illumined -to the loftier life of the world beyond. - -From city to city and hamlet to hamlet the wires flashed the sad -intelligence. Men paused and doubted as the message passed from lip to -lip—paused with wet eyes and wondering, stricken hearts. - -The scholar closed his book and reverently bent his head in grief; the -toiler in the sanctum stayed his pen and read the message with moistened -eyes; the merchant on the busy mart sighed over its fatal sentences—men, -women, little children, lifted up their voices and wept. - -Our hearts can find no words to voice our grief for him. And how idle -are all words now! Vainly we vaunt his virtues—his high nobility of -soul—his talents fine—his service to the State, and all the graces rare -that crowned his wondrous personality. Vainly, because these are well -known to men; and that great fame whose trumpet blast has blown his name -about the world, has also stamped it deeply upon grateful, loving -hearts, that rise up and call him blessed. - -We would stand in silence in the presence of a death like this; for the -presence of the Lord is there, and the place is sacred. The hand of God -is in it: This man, who, though he had reached the heights, was but upon -the threshold of his brilliant career—this man, elected to a high and -noble work, to whom we had entrusted the future of the South, and sent -him forth to fight her battles with the world—in the morning of his -days, in the midst of his great usefulness, flushed with the triumphs of -his last and mightiest effort; with the applause of thousands ringing in -his ear and the “well-done” of his people crowning all—suddenly, and -without warning, renounces his worldly honors—lays down the burden which -he had but taken up, and sighs farewell to all! - -We cannot understand it. The reality is too much! - - We falter where we firmly trod, - And, falling with our weight of cares - Upon the great world’s altar stairs - That slope through darkness up to God, - We stretch blind hands of Faith that grope! - -But God reigns, and in the mystery of His providence willeth all things -well. Grady is dead. “He has fought a good fight; he has finished his -course; he has kept the faith!” A hero, he died at his post; in the full -blaze of his fame, with the arms of the South around him, he breathed -away his life upon her breast. Could man desire more? - -The South will miss him long and sorely. There is no man to take his -place; to do that high, especial work which he has done so well. Aye! -miss him, sweet South, and shed for him your tenderest tears of love, -for he loved you and gave himself for you—he laid down his life for your -sake! And you, ye sons and daughters of the South! if ye can see his -face for weeping, draw near and look your last! And let the North draw -near and clasp strong hands of sympathy above his bier! - -Farewell to thee, comrade! Knightly and noble-hearted -gentleman—farewell! The fight is over—the victory won, and lo! while yet -we weep upon the field deserted, a shout rings through the portals of -the skies and welcomes the victor home! And there, while the lofty pæan -sounds from star to star, thy peaceful tent is pitched within the -verdant valleys of eternal rest! - - - ------------------ - - - DEATH OF HENRY W. GRADY. - - ------- - - _From the “Savannah News.”_ - -GEORGIA mourns for one of her most distinguished sons. Henry W. Grady, -who, a week ago last Thursday, held entranced, and at times moved to -enthusiastic applause, by his eloquence, an audience composed of -Boston’s prominent citizens, and whose name on the following day was on -the lips of millions of people, is cold in death in his Atlanta home. He -died before he had reached the meridian of life or the zenith of his -fame. His mind was steadily broadening, and he was constantly giving -evidence of the possession of still greater ability than he had yet -displayed. In his Boston speech he handled the race question in a way -that showed that he was not a mere rhetorician, but a genuine orator, -who could direct the minds of men as well as touch their hearts and -dazzle their imaginations. Had he lived, he would have won a name that -would have had a permanent place in the history of his country. As it -is, he will be remembered as a brilliant young man whom death claimed -before he had time to show that he was fully capable of meeting the -expectations which were entertained with regard to him. - -Mr. Grady was full of resources and a tireless worker. He entered the -profession of journalism very early in life, and such was the energy and -intensity with which he devoted himself to it, that even if he had not -possessed extraordinary talents, he could hardly have failed to succeed; -but, having a special fitness for his work and ability of a very high -order, it was not strange that he quickly made a reputation that was not -confined by the lines of his State. - -Mr. Grady was never satisfied with what he had accomplished. He felt -that he was capable of still better things, and he strove constantly to -reach a higher mark of excellence. No sooner was he done with one -undertaking than his busy brain was engaged with another; and it can be -said of him that his aims were not selfish ones. No doubt he had the -ambitions which every man of marked ability has, but the good of others -entered largely into his thoughts and plans. Atlanta owes to his memory -a debt she can never repay. During all the time he was a resident within -her limits he kept her interests steadily in view. He contributed to her -prosperity in a hundred ways, and when her people were lukewarm in -enterprises which he or others suggested, he pointed out to them their -duty, and urged them to perform it so eloquently and strongly that they -fell into line and won success when many thought success was impossible. - -Mr. Grady was not apparently anxious to accumulate wealth. Money did not -remain with him long. His purse was always open to his friends, and -those who had claims never had to ask him twice for assistance when he -was able to render it. Doubtless there are hundreds in Atlanta who are -able to speak from personal knowledge of his free-handed liberality. - -Mr. Grady never held public office. Had he lived, however, it is -probable that he would have entered the political arena. He was -gradually being drawn in that direction, and during the last two or -three years his name was frequently mentioned in connection with the -offices of Senator and Governor. His triumphs were won as a journalist -and an orator. In the latter character he first achieved a national -reputation at the dinner of the New England Society in 1886. - -Georgians loved Mr. Grady and were proud of him. The death of very few -other men could have so filled their hearts with sorrow. - - - ------------------ - - - HENRY W. GRADY DEAD. - - ------- - - _From the “Albany News and Advertiser.”_ - -THE flash that announced over the wires the death of Henry W. Grady -shocked the country, for it was a national calamity. - -It is seldom that a people are called upon in so short a space of time -to mourn the loss of two such men as Jefferson Davis and Henry W. Grady. -The first was a blow for which we were prepared, for like ripened grain, -Mr. Davis fell, full of years and honor, before the scythe of the -reaper; but the death of Mr. Grady comes to us as a sorrow with all the -force of a painful surprise. He was cut down in the bloom of a robust -physical manhood, in the full enjoyment of his magnificent mental powers -by which he had just ascended to the very pinnacle of fame. The eyes of -the country were fixed upon him, the son of the South, whose -transcendent genius inspired the hope of the blessed realization of -promises with which his brief but brilliant career was so full. But in -the death of this illustrious journalist and matchless orator the lesson -is enforced that “The path of glory leads but to the grave.” - -Mr. Grady grew up in the refined atmosphere of cultured Athens, and his -mental nature treasured the classic light of that seat of learning, and -it glowed with attractive radiance in all of his editorial work. In his -death the press of the country loses its brightest ornament, and the -South loses a champion without compare, whose pen was a trenchant blade -in fighting her battles, and a shield when used to defend her from the -hurtling arrows of envy and malice. His luminous pen made the path of -the South’s progress glow, as with unflagging zeal he devoted his best -endeavors to the amelioration of her war-ruined condition. - -Mr. Grady, as the representative of what people are pleased to call the -“New South,” but which is the “Old South” rehabilitated, was, in the -providence of God, calculated to do for his country what Hill, Gordon -and other brilliant lights of the old _régime_ could never have -compassed. As David, “the man of war,” was not permitted to build the -temple, but that glory was reserved for Solomon, so Grady, the exponent -of present principles, was permitted to gather the fragments and broken -columns of the South’s ruined fortunes and begin the erection of a -temple of prosperity so grand in proportion, so symmetrical in outline, -as to attract, in its incomplete state, the admiration of the world. - -In the extremity of our grief we are apt to magnify our loss, but this, -indeed, seems irreparable, and we can take no comfort in the assurance -of the philosopher who codified the experience of the past into the -assurance that great ability is always found equal to the demand. On -whom will Grady’s mantle fall? There really seems to be none worthy to -wear what he so easily graced. And every Southern heart weighed down -with a sense of its woe cannot but ask, - - O death, why arm with cruelty thy power - To spare the idle weed yet lop the flower? - - - ------------------ - - - STILLED IS THE ELOQUENT TONGUE. - - ------- - - _From the “Brunswick Times.”_ - -HENRY W. GRADY is dead! - -Hushed forever is the voice of the South’s most wonderful orator! - -With the laurel upon his brow, with the plaudits of a nation ringing in -his ears, with the love of his people freshly spoken, with a crown of -glory about him, the matchless defender of the South has passed from -earth, and beyond the silence of the stars his soul dwells in the -companionship of the great who have gone before. - -With his sorrow fresh upon the South, this death and loss following so -closely upon that other in New Orleans but a few days ago, the heart is -not in keeping with the brain, and not now can the pen dipped only in -tears write. - -Henry Grady had not reached the zenith of his fame, for the circle was -widening for him and there were still brighter flowers for him to pluck, -and in her hand Honor held out still richer prizes. But the mystery of -death is upon him, and from his hand has dropped the forceful, graceful -pen, and in silence and peace he sleeps for the grave. - -With a superb intellect, with an eloquence rivalling the golden-tonged -Chrysostom, with a love almost unapproached by any other for the South -and her people, he stood peerless and matchless as his land’s defender -and leader in all that made for her peace, prosperity and happiness. - -But his sun has set. It matters not that in all brightness it went down; -it matters not that he died full of honors; about that grave a people -will gather with tears fast flowing and hearts crushed and bleeding. It -is hard to give up one so grand of mind, so wonderful of tongue, so -magnetic of personality, so richly endowed in all that equips the great -leader. - -And such was Henry W. Grady. - -Atlanta will mourn him, Georgia will weep for him, and the South will -sorrow indeed. - -Upon his bier the _Times_ lays this tribute and stands reverent and -uncovered by the grave of Georgia’s most brilliant son. - - - ------------------ - - - A SHINING CAREER. - - ------- - - _From the “Macon Telegraph.”_ - -HENRY GRADY is dead. This announcement carried sorrow all over Georgia -yesterday, for there were few men in whom the people of this State felt -so much interest or for whom they cherished such a warm affection as -they did for this gifted and lovable man. He had not attained his -thirty-ninth year when “God’s finger touched him” and closed his -remarkable career, but his name was familiar from one limit of this -Union to the other. Georgia had no more famous citizen, and perhaps -there never was a man in this State in private station who was so widely -known or so much admired. Mr. Grady never held a public office, and yet -he was a recognized force in Georgia politics almost before he had -reached the years of statutory manhood. He devoted his life to -journalism, and in his chosen field achieved a national fame. He began -his career as a boy editor in Rome, and at an age when most men are -merely selecting their standards and shaping themselves for the real -work of life, he became a prominent and influential figure, a leader of -thought, and a promoter of public enterprises. Eighteen years ago he -moved to Atlanta to pursue his profession in a broader field, and -immediately made himself felt as a positive force in the community. The -debt which Atlanta owes him is great indeed. No man did more to inspire -the pride of community, to set on foot and carry to success great -enterprises for the welfare and progress of the city, to rally its -people to an enthusiastic unanimity on all questions affecting local -prosperity than did Henry W. Grady. These public services would have -endeared him to the people of his adopted city, but they were not so -admirable as his private benefactions. He was first and foremost in many -good works, the fame of which never went beyond the homes of the poor -and unfortunate who were relieved by his ministrations. His hand was -open always to the stricken and needy. He gave to the afflicted with a -generosity which was oblivious to his own circumstances. Of his -influence in promoting public enterprises there are enduring monuments. -By his eloquence of tongue and pen he raised in less than two weeks -$85,000 for the erection of the beautiful Young Men’s Christian -Association building which now adorns one of the principal streets of -Atlanta. He was the moving spirit in the building of the Chamber of -Commerce and the enlargement of its membership until it reached -proportions that made it a power not only in matters of business but in -all the public concerns of the city. The Confederate Soldiers’ Home of -Georgia is a monument to him, for he seized mere suggestions and made -them the text of an appeal which stirred the hearts of the people of -Georgia and evoked a long delayed tribute of gratitude to the broken -veterans of the lost cause. The Cotton Exposition of 1880 and the -Piedmont Expositions of 1887 and 1889, from which Atlanta reaped immense -benefits, were largely due to his persistent labors. - -While Mr. Grady became prominent in Atlanta, and justly esteemed by his -fellow-citizens on account of works and triumphs like these, he rose -into national prominence by reason of other evidences of his genius. His -address to the New England Society in New York in December, 1886, was -one of the most famous occasional speeches ever delivered in this -country. The morning after its delivery he literally awoke to find -himself famous throughout the country. Since that time he made various -public addresses which commanded the attention of the United States and -became subjects of common conversation among the people. His speech at -the Dallas Exposition last year and his address to the legislatures of -Georgia and South Carolina at the Augusta Exposition a few weeks later, -were themes of the public press of the entire country. But the best and -ablest public speech of his life was his last. It was that which he -delivered two weeks ago at Boston in the performance of a mission which -proved fatal to him. In this, as in all his famous public addresses, he -seemed to strive with a passionate ardor and a most persuasive eloquence -to bring the North and the South to a better understanding of each -other, to foster the spirit of mutual respect and mutual forbearance, to -inculcate the great idea that this is a re-united country and that the -duty of every good citizen in its every section is to strive for its -domestic peace, for its moral, social and material progress, and for its -glory among the nations of the earth. He handled these great themes with -a master hand and invested his exposition of them with a most -fascinating eloquence. Few men in Georgia ever accomplished so much in -so few years. Few men in Georgia were even the object of such affection -at home and such admiration beyond the bounds of the State. The career -which has been so suddenly cut off was shining with golden promise. The -future seemed to be full of honors and there was everything surrounding -the present that could make life sweet. But the end has come. The most -eloquent tongue in Georgia has been smitten into everlasting silence in -this world. A great, generous heart has been stilled. - -A useful citizen, after a brief but busy and momentous life, which was -productive of many enterprises of public importance and beneficent -tendency, has folded his hands in the eternal rest. God’s peace be with -him! - - - ------------------ - - - THE GREATEST CALAMITY. - - ------- - - _From the “Augusta News.”_ - -CAN it be possible? Can it be that the brightest star in the galaxy of -our great luminaries is blotted out and stricken from its orbit just as -it was rising in full career to the zenith of usefulness, influence and -splendor? Can it be that the most brilliant meteor which has flashed -across our sky for a generation has fallen to earth literally burned to -ashes by its own fiery contact with the grosser air and elements of the -natural world? Can it be that the light has gone out of the most -magnetic mind and the spirit gone from the most resistless personality -in this sovereign State? Can it be that the South has lost the man who -has been first and foremost in representing its real and progressive -needs and issues, and who has done more for this section than all the -young men of his day combined? Can it be that the kindly heart has -ceased to beat which throbbed in love first for a devoted family, and -next and always for his native State? - -Even so, for while still the shadows of the night hung in mournful pall -about his home and dawn lingered as if loth to look upon the lifeless -form of one whom all his people loved, his spirit soared away to greet -the dawning of an eternal day and the mortal part of Henry Woodfin Grady -lay cold in death. - -Dead, did we say? Was ever the coming of Death’s angel more untimely? So -it seems to us, with our poor mortal vision, but there is an eye above, -all-seeing; a Providence, all-timely; a Power, almighty; and to His will -we bow this day. In His sight the stricken star is not blotted out but -borne aloft to a brighter realm. In His providence the brilliant meteor -of a day is not fallen, but simply shorn of all its dross and burnished -in beauty and splendor for its flight through all the ages. In His power -the spark which no longer animates the mortal man glows again in glory -and sends a ray of loving light from Heaven to cheer and console the -broken hearts on earth, and remind us that his influence and work are -not lost, but will live and bear blessed fruit for generations yet to -come. - -Henry Grady has gone from earth ere yet the dew of youth has been drunk -up by the midday sun of maturity, but in the brief span of life allotted -to him what a world of work he has done, and what a name he made for -himself! Not two-score years had passed over his head, and yet he had -attained all the substantial success and honor which mortal man might -wish. He was not only loved all over Georgia, but he was famous all over -the country, and no public occasion of national import was deemed -complete without his presence and his eloquent voice. He was a magician -in his mastery of men, and the witchery of his voice was enchantment to -any audience in any section. He was coming to be regarded as the -representative of the whole South in the editor’s chair and on the -rostrum, and it is truly said of him that he has done more for the -material advancement of this section than any other man for the past -fifteen years. His death is the greatest calamity which has befallen the -South since the late war, and Israel may indeed mourn this day as for -her first-born. - -The name of Henry W. Grady will not be forgotten, for it will live in -the affectionate regard of Georgians and grow greater in the good -results which will follow his life-work. The fact that he literally died -in the service of the South, as a result of cold contracted just after -the impassioned delivery of his recent grand oration in Boston, will -bind his name and memory nearer and dearer to Southern hearts; for to -warrior or hero was never given a better time or a nobler way to die -than to the man who gave his voice, his heart, his reputation and his -life to healing the wounds of a fratricidal war, and to the harmonious -building up of his own beloved South as the fairest and richest domain -of our common country. - -God bless his name and his memory, and be a strong and abiding support -to his broken-hearted widow and household this day! - - - ------------------ - - - NO ORDINARY GRIEF. - - ------- - - _From the “Columbus Ledger.”_ - -A GREAT loss has befallen the South in the death of Henry W. Grady, and -deep sorrow rests upon the hearts of her people. - -He was no ordinary man, and his death calls forth no ordinary grief. -Brilliant in intellect, strong in his convictions, untiring in his -efforts to promote the welfare of his country, genial, courteous, -kind-hearted, ever ready to help the unfortunate, the loss of such a man -cannot be estimated. When results were to be achieved, when -encouragement was needed, his eloquent tongue, his ready pen, his -helping hand were used with telling effect. His creed was to build up -and not to tear down; to encourage and not to discourage; to help and -not to hurt. His efforts were ever directed to the promotion of his -State and the South, and no other man has accomplished so much for them -as he. His last effort was for his country and his people, and the good -which will result from his eloquent speech at Boston, will be a lasting -monument. It would have been impossible for any man to have attained to -Mr. Grady’s position without coming into contact with those who -disagreed with him on many points, but even these acknowledged his -greatness. To read of him was to admire him; to know him was to love -him. In the midst of our sorrow let us thank God that He lends to earth -such men. - - - ------------------ - - - A PLACE HARD TO FILL. - - ------- - - _From the “Griffin News.”_ - -HENRY W. GRADY died at his home in Atlanta late Sunday night of -pneumonia, contracted during his recent trip North. His illness was very -short and his untimely death is a shock not only to his many friends and -admirers, but to the whole State in which he was so well known, and will -be received with regret outside its borders. He was a beautiful writer -and a brilliant orator, as well as a prominent factor in the development -of Atlanta. He will be greatly missed in that city, and his place in the -_Constitution_, of which he was easily the head, will be hard to fill. -Peace to his ashes. - - - ------------------ - - - “JUST HUMAN.” - - ------- - - _From the “Thomasville Enterprise.”_ - -THACKERAY, the greatest of English novelists, in the concluding words of -Pendennis, says: “I have not painted a hero, only a man and a brother.” -When Henry W. Grady made his first appearance before the public as a -lecturer, his subject was the words that begin this article—“Just -Human.” This was years ago, when he was only known to the world as a -brilliant young journalist, and even then his fame for quick perception, -incisive utterance and felicitous manner, was only begun. Later years -added to that fame, and with each year, there seemed to come to him a -wider range of ideas, and a bolder conception of the most effectual way -to put those ideas into burning, glowing language. - -After he had made his memorable speech before the New England Society in -New York, each succeeding one only raised him higher in public esteem as -a matchless, a magnetic orator, who could wield human hearts as he -would. Through all these speeches, and in all that he ever wrote, there -lingers, like a sweet incense, this thought, that he recognized that men -were “Just Human,” and entitled to all that charity could offer in -extenuation of their faults. - -There is not a heart in all the world that has received one pang from -aught that Henry Grady ever wrote or said; his utterances, whether from -the rostrum or through the columns of his paper, always tended to make -the world better, and his ambition seemed to be to smooth away the -differences that annoy, and the bitternesses that gall. There is no man -in all the country that can take up his work where he left it. - -Where can we find the same impassioned eloquence that swayed, despite -its force, as gently as the summer breezes that come across fields of -ripe grain? - -Where can we find the same acute feeling for the sorrows and sufferings -of men and women, “Just Human,” the same sweet pleading for their -extenuation or their amelioration? - -When the epitaph over his grave comes to be written, no better rendering -of the true greatness of the departed could be made than is contained in -the suggestive name of his first lecture, “Just Human,” for the noble -instinct that taught him to plead so eloquently for the failings of his -fellow men, taught him to enter the Divine presence, asking for himself -that mercy he had asked for others. - - - ------------------ - - - GEORGIA WEEPS. - - ------- - - _From the “Union News.”_ - -HON. HENRY W. GRADY, of the _Constitution_, died at his home in Atlanta -this morning at 3:40. - -This cruel blow shivers every heart with agony, even as the thunderbolt -of heaven rends the mighty monarch of the forest. - -His death is a loss to Georgia. Every man feels it as a personal -bereavement. He has done more for the material development of the State -than any other one man in it. He was an enthusiast in the cause of -education, an upholder of the church, an advocate of industrial -training, a promoter of every enterprise calculated to benefit Georgia -and her people. He was a friend to humanity, true to himself, to his -country and to his God. - -The most brilliant light in Southern journalism is veiled in darkness—a -manly heart has ceased to beat; the tongue that has electrified -thousands with magic eloquence is silent forever; the fingers that -wielded the pen of genius and never traced a line in bitterness or -malice, but was always uplifted in behalf of charity, love and good -will, in behalf of progress, industry and enterprise, in behalf of the -South and her institutions, his State and her people, are cold in death; -the once warm hand of benevolence and fraternal greeting is chilled -forever; a golden life is ended, but his works live after him, as a -priceless heritage to his State, a boon to his people. The influence of -his example pervades the State as a delightful aroma. - -The dispensations of Providence are mysterious. It is strange fate, past -all human understanding, why so excellent a spirit, a man of so much -influence, should be cut down in the glory of his life, in the richest -prime of his royal manhood. - -Only a few days ago he stood in a blaze of glory in a Northern city and -electrified thousands by his matchless oratory, in the presentation of a -question that did the South great good and justice, and did much to -soften the animosities of the North toward the South, and establish more -fraternal relations between the two sections. But even while the -plaudits of the admiring multitude were ringing in his ears, and the -press of the country was singing his praises, the fatal hand of disease -was laid upon him, and he was brought back to his own sunny and beloved -Southland to die. - -Mr. Grady was a popular idol. He was destined to reap the highest -political honors in the State. His name was being prominently mentioned -in connection with the Governorship and Senatorship of Georgia. -Democratic leaders sought his favor. His influence was felt throughout -the entire State. His support was an omen of success. - -Ben Hill died, and his place has never been supplied in Georgia. Mr. -Grady approached nearer to it than any other man. Now Mr. Grady is gone, -and his duplicate cannot be found in the State. No man in recent years -could so attract the eye and fasten the attention of the North. The -death of no other Georgian at this time would have been so calamitous. - -The star was rapidly hastening to the zenith of its brilliancy and -greatest magnitude when suddenly it went out in darkness, but across the -industrial and political firmament of the country it has left an -effulgent track whose reflection illumines the world. - - - ------------------ - - - A GRAND MISSION. - - ------- - - _From the “West Point Press.”_ - -SO much has been said about the lamented Grady that we may not be able -to offer anything new. But as we feel that his untimely death is an -irreparable loss we must offer our heartfelt tribute. - -He was the most unselfish slave to friends, and to duty. As an editor he -was brilliant and at all times as fearless as a Spartan; as an orator, -age considered, he stood without a peer within the broad realm of his -native land, and although but in the full vigor of manhood he has left -upon record speeches that compare favorably with the master efforts of -Calhoun and Webster. As a companion he was genial, jovial and untiring -in his efforts to entertain; as a friend there was no bound to his -fidelity. - -If you would know the beauty and grandeur of Henry Grady’s character, go -and learn it at the homes of poverty where he delighted to turn in the -light, by his many offices of love and charity. If you would know the -kindness of his generous heart go to those whom he has lifted from the -vale of poverty and given encouragement to look up. Ask the army of -newsboys for a chapter upon the life of Henry Grady and you will hear -words to convince you that a philanthropist has been called hence. It -seemed to us the other day while in Atlanta, as they said “Paper, sir,” -that there was a sadness in the tone, and that a great sorrow was upon -their hearts. Yes, those newsboys miss Henry Grady, for he was their -friend and protector. Words of eulogy cannot restore those who cross the -dark river; if they could there has been enough said to recall Henry -Grady to the high position he honored by a life of unselfishness. His -mission, only begun, was a grand one, and we trust his mantle may fall -upon some one who will carry on his work. - - - ------------------ - - - THE SOUTH LOVED HIM. - - ------- - - _From the “Darien Timber Gazette.”_ - -SELDOM has the nation’s heart been so saddened as by the news of Henry -W. Grady’s death. Henry W. Grady, although comparatively young, has -conquered this vast continent—east and west, north and south—and his -many victories have been bloodless. He has truly demonstrated that the -pen is mightier than the sword. An intellect exceptionally brilliant, an -indomitable courage, a judgment keen, clear and cool, a character -unspotted and unassailable—these are the weapons with which Henry W. -Grady captured the nation. - -The South loves him for his unflinching devotion to its interests; the -North admires him for the conservatism which always characterized his -political actions. The brilliancy of his intellect all admit. We venture -to say that there lives not a man in the United States to-day whose -death would be more sincerely or more universally mourned. - -That a career so unusually promising should have been so suddenly cut -off is sad indeed—sad especially for the South, whose claims he so ably -advocated and so successfully furthured. The severing of the still more -tender ties between wife and husband, mother and son, while in the youth -of his glory, adds another gloomy chapter to the death of Southland’s -most patriotic and brilliant son. Millions will bow their heads in grief -with the loving wife and devoted mother. - -We read and re-read the words of Henry W. Grady’s last speech with a -strange fascination. They are like the last notes of the dying swan and -will doubtless have much more weight under the sad circumstances. He has -literally laid down his life that the colored man might enjoy his in -peace and prosperity. - - - ------------------ - - - NO SADDER NEWS. - - ------- - - _From the “Marietta Journal.”_ - -NO sadder news ever fell upon the ears of this people than the -announcement that “Henry Grady is dead!” It staggered our people like a -bolt of lightning from a clear sky. - -His death took place at the family residence in Atlanta at 3:40 o’clock -Monday morning, December 22. While on a visit to Boston, where he -delivered the grandest speech of his life, he took cold, and being ill -before he left home, he was prostrated on his return home, his sickness -culminating in pneumonia and death. He was thirty-eight years old at the -time of his death, and no private citizen at that age ever attained the -renown that Grady had. As an orator and journalist he was without a -peer; gifted above his fellows to sway men by his pen or his voice, he -won the applause and admiration and love of his countrymen wherever he -came in contact with them. His young life and genius had been devoted to -deeds of kindness, peace, unity and charity. Selfishness did not enter -his heart, that always beat in response to the woes and sufferings of -his fellow men. - -There was a charm and sparkle about his writings that never failed to -captivate the senses, please and entertain. The South lost one of her -brightest minds and stanchest champions in the death of Henry Grady. -There is no man that can take his place in the rare gifts that so -befittingly endowed him in the grand work in which he was engaged. His -loss is an irreparable one. Sorrow and gloom pervade the hearts of our -people over this sad event. We may not understand how one so superbly -gifted, with capacities for the accomplishment of so much good in the -world, is taken, and many who cumber the earth and are stumbling blocks, -are left, but we know the hand of Providence is behind it all, and He is -too wise to err, too good to be unkind. - -Grand and noble Grady, we mourn your death; but we know a soul so -radiant with love for humanity, is now at rest with the redeemed. - - - ------------------ - - - GEORGIA’S NOBLE SON. - - ------- - - _From the “Madison Advertiser.”_ - -IN view of the innumerable, heartfelt and touching memorials to this -gifted child of genius, anything that we might add would be as Hyperion -to a Satyr. But moved by a feeling of profound grief at our’s and the -Nation’s loss, we claim the privilege of giving, as humble members of -the craft, expression to our high regard for the character of Georgia’s -noble son, and mingle a tear with those of the entire country upon the -grave of a great and good man. - -In early life he manifested a ripeness and decision of purpose in -selecting a calling for which he conceived he had an aptitude. Nor was -his judgment erroneous, for, with rare genius, coupled with energy and -untiring application, he soon found a place amongst the first -journalists of the country. How, with his gifted pen, he convinced the -judgment, moved the emotions and sympathies, inspired to lofty resolve -and the cultivation of gentle kindness, none knew better than his -constant readers. - -Perhaps no character in Georgia, we may say in the South, was possessed -of such varied, versatile talent. Profuse in rhetorical attainments, -gifted in oratory, profound in thought, facile and versatile as a -writer, an encyclopædia of statistics, he presented a combination -amounting to an anomaly. Coming upon the stage of action at a period -when the crown was torn from our Southland and she bent beneath the -cross, when the gore of his patriot father, poured out on the fields of -Virginia, was still red before his vision and calling as it were for -vengeance, he remembered the vow of the greatest Captain of the age, -taken at Appomattox, the injunction of our recently departed Chieftain, -and set his noble brain, gifted pen and silver tongue to the herculean -task of extinguishing the embers of sectional hate; to a recognition of -the rights, and adjustment of the wrongs of his beloved South, and the -rehabilitating of the great American nation, under the ægis of -constitutional equality. - -His strong and graceful effusions in the Atlanta _Constitution_ had -attracted universal attention, and put men everywhere to thinking. -Blended with so much of genial kindness and courtesy, while abating -nothing of truth or right, they won commendation, even from unwilling -ears. Nor were they confined to one theme. Every work of industry, -labor, love or charity found in him a potent advocate, convincing by his -logic, and persuading by his gentle, finished rhetoric. As a journalist, -among the craft and the world of readers, he was recognized as without a -superior, scarcely with a peer. - -But burning with a grand, great purpose, he felt with the inspiration of -true greatness, that there was work for his tongue, as well as pen. With -a penetrating judgment, he felt that the territory of those misguided -and uninformed as to the condition and burdens of his beloved South must -be invaded, and the ear of those who read but little or nothing of her -grievances must be reached. Unexpectedly an opportunity was opened up -for him, and he appeared before a cultivated audience in the great -metropolis, New York. - -To say that wonder, admiration and conviction was the result of his -grand effort on that occasion, would be to put it mildly. Never, since -the surrender, have any utterances, from any source, commanded, up to -that time, so much attention and attracted so much careful and -unprejudiced consideration of the situation of the South. From the -position of an accomplished journalist, he bloomed out into a grand -orator. His name and his grand effort was on every tongue, and every -true Georgian thanked God that a David had arisen to battle her cause. - -So profound was the impression made upon the Northern mind of the -justice, truth and temperance of Mr. Grady’s position, that he was -called to Boston, the cradle of Phillips, Garrison and all isms, to -discuss the race question. Had his people been admonished of the -consequences to him physically, they would have felt as did others in -reference to the sweet singer of Israel—better ten thousand perish than -he be endangered. Intent upon what he believed his great mission, he -responded. What that grand effort was is fresh in the minds of all. Its -influence upon this Nation, time alone will disclose. - -Grand as was Mr. Grady as a writer, thinker and orator, his greatness -culminated in the bigness of his heart. He might truthfully be called -(as he styled the late Dawson) “the Golden-hearted man.” His pen, -tongue, hand and purse were ever open to all the calls of distress or -want, and every charitable movement found no more effective champion -than in him. A striking recent incident is narrated of him illustrative -of this his noble characteristic. Taking two tattered strangers into a -store, he directed the proprietor to furnish each with a suit of -clothes. The proprietor, his close personal friend, remonstrated with -him for his prodigality, saying, “You are not able to so do.” He -replied, “I know it, but are they not human beings?” Grand man. Surely -he has won the crown bestowed upon the peacemaker and the cheerful -giver. Mysterious are the ways of the Great Ruler. Little did his -exulting friends think that he would be so soon summoned from the field -of his glory and usefulness to the grave. Man proposes, God disposes, -and Grady sleeps the long sleep, but “tho’ dead he yet speaketh.” Alone, -aided by none save perhaps the gifted, battle-scarred, faithful Gordon, -he gave up his life to enforcing the obligation of Lee, the injunctions -of the lamented Davis. With a brave spirit and a heart of love, he would -speak words of forgiveness to his wrong-doers, if any, while others less -tolerant might say to them, “An eagle in his towering flight was hawked -at by a mousing owl.” But with indorsement from such as Cleveland, Hill, -Campbell and a host of others, he needs no apology from us. Peacefully -he has crossed over the river, and under the perennial shade of the leal -land he sits with Davis and Lee and receives their plaudits for his -faithful, patriotic efforts. - - - ------------------ - - - THE DEATH OF HENRY GRADY. - - ------- - - _From the “Hawkinsville Dispatch.”_ - -HENRY W. GRADY died at his home in Atlanta, at 3:40 o’clock, on the -morning of the 23d ult. - -This announcement has already been flashed all over the United States, -and has carried genuine sorrow throughout Georgia and many places -beyond. The fame and the popularity of this brilliant young orator and -writer were not confined to this State, but were almost co-extensive -with the limits of the Union. - -Mr. Grady was in Boston a week or two before his death to make an -address, by invitation of the Merchants’ Club of that city. The address -was on “The Negro Problem,” and it attracted attention throughout the -United States. He was not well when he left Atlanta, and his departure -was contrary to the advice of his physician. Immediately after the -address, he went to New York, and while there he had to take his bed. He -was compelled to decline all the honors tendered him, and hastened home. -The citizens of Atlanta had arranged a complimentary reception for his -return, but he was taken from the car into a carriage and carried to his -home. He never left that home until he was carried out in his coffin. - -His funeral took place on Wednesday of last week. It was probably the -largest that has ever been seen in Atlanta, for Mr. Grady was nearer and -dearer to the popular heart than any other man. The body was carried to -the First Methodist church, where it lay in state several hours. -Thousands of people passed through the church and took a last look at -the face which was so familiar to all Atlanta. The church was profusely -and beautifully decorated. - -At two in the afternoon the funeral took place. There was no sermon, but -the services consisted of prayers, reading selections from the Bible by -several ministers, and songs. “Shall we gather at the river?” was sung -as the favorite hymn of the deceased. At the close of the services, the -remains were placed in a vault in Oakland Cemetery. - -Henry Grady was a remarkable man. He was not quite thirty-nine years of -age, had never held an official position, and yet his wonderful talent -had won for him a national reputation. It is scarcely an exaggeration to -say that, as an attractive writer and speaker, he had not an equal in -the United States. Certainly he had no superior. He spoke as well as he -wrote, and every utterance of his tongue or production of his pen was -received with eagerness. There was an indescribable charm about what he -said and wrote, that is possessed by no other person within our -knowledge. - -He began writing for the press when about eighteen, and at once made a -reputation throughout the State. That reputation steadily grew until he -could command an audience that would crowd any hall in the United -States. - -It is impossible to estimate the good he has done. At one time he would -use his wonderful eloquence to urge the farmers of Georgia to seek -prosperity by raising their own supplies. At another time, he would -rally the people of Atlanta to help the poor of the city who were -suffering from the severity of the winter weather. Then he would -plead—and never in vain—for harmony among the distracted factions of his -loved city, who were fighting each other in some municipal contest. -Still again, he would incite his people to grand achievements in -material prosperity; and who can measure the value which his influence -has been to Atlanta in this particular alone? He often said to his -people “Pin your eternal faith to these old red hills”; and he set the -example. - -But his work was not confined to the narrow limits of his city and -State. He was in demand in other places, and wherever he went he -captured the hearts of the people. His speeches and his writings were -all philanthropic. All his efforts were for the betterment of his -fellows. In the South he urged the moral and material advancement. In -the North he plead, as no other man has plead, for justice to the South -and for a proper recognition of the rights of our people. The South has -had advocates as earnest, but never one as eloquent and effective. - -In the prohibition contest in Atlanta two years ago, Mr. Grady threw his -whole soul into the canvass for the exclusion of bar-rooms. With his -matchless eloquence he depicted the evils of the liquor traffic and the -blessedness of exemption from it. If reason had prevailed, his efforts -would not have been in vain; but unfortunately the balance of power was -held by the ignorant and the vicious—by those on whom eloquence and -argument could have no effect; and he lost. - -But his life-work is ended, except so far as the influence of good works -lives after the worker dies. He has done much good for his State and for -the entire country; and there is no man whose death would be more -lamented by the people of Georgia. - - - ------------------ - - - A MEASURELESS SORROW. - - ------- - - _From the “Lagrange Reporter.”_ - -ATLANTA buried yesterday her greatest citizen, and Georgia mourns the -death of her most brilliant son. Not only Atlanta and Georgia bewail an -irreparable loss, but the whole South joins in the lamentation, while -beyond her boundaries the great North, so lately thrilled by his -eloquence, stands with uncovered head at Grady’s tomb. - -O measureless sorrow! A young man, with unequaled genius and great, -loving heart, has been cut off in his golden promise. The South saw in -him her spokesman—her representative to the world. The old and the new -were happily blended in him. Revering the past, his face was turned to -the rising day. As the stars went out, one by one, he greeted the dawn -of a grander era, which he was largely instrumental in hastening. His -work for Georgia, the South, the country, will abide. Time will only -increase his fame. - -A journalist without a peer, an orator unsurpassed, a statesman with -grasp of thought to “know what Israel ought to do,” has fallen. Words -are impotent to express the public grief. - -God reigns. Let us bow to His will and trust Him for help. Our extremity -is His opportunity. If leader is necessary to perfect the work, He will -give us one qualified in all respects. Like Moses, the South’s young -champion had sighted the promised land and pointed out its beauties and -glories to his wondering people. Let us boldly pass over the Jordan that -lies between. - -Rest, noble knight. Dream of battle-fields no more—days of toil, nights -of danger. Thy country will take care of thy fame. - - - ------------------ - - - GRADY’S DEATH. - - ------- - - _From the “Oglethorpe Echo.”_ - -TOGETHER with the sorrow of the thousands who loved Henry Grady that he -should be taken from among them, comes the lament of the Nation that one -so gifted and capable of so much good should be cut down just as he was -fairly upon the threshold of his useful career. Viewing the surroundings -from a human standpoint, it would seem that his end was indeed untimely -and a calamity to the whole Nation. - -Our own Colquitt and Gordon have won greatly the respect of the Northern -people, but they nor any Southern man had as implicitly their -confidence. Whatever Grady said or wrote, on no matter what subject, our -friends across Mason and Dixon’s line accepted as utterly true and not -to be questioned. They respected also his ability more than they did any -other man of this section, and were more inclined to take his counsel -and be governed by his advice and admonition. - -This distinction Grady had honestly won, and by having it he was doing -more than any ten men to obliterate sectional prejudices. His last great -speech, delivered only a few days before his death, was on this line, -and its good effects will be felt the country over, though he has been -taken before he could see them. In that speech he disabused the minds of -his hearers of many erroneous ideas of the relations of the races in the -South. He did it by stating plainly and unhesitatingly facts and giving -a true picture of the situation without varnish. He had the gift of -doing this in such a way as to command the respect of both sides of -whatever question he might be discussing. Just such speakers and just -such speeches is what is now needed to bring the two sections together; -to obliterate sectional prejudices; make the entire Nation one people in -purpose and sentiment. But have we any more Gradys to make them? Perhaps -so, but they are in the background and time must elapse before they can -reach his place. We need them in the front and on the platform now. -Grady was already there, and was doing perhaps, as no other man will -ever do, what is urgently needed to make the Nation more harmonious, -more peaceful and more prosperous; and while we must bow in humble -submission to the will of the Higher Power which saw fit to end his -career, we can but lament the evident loss the people of the South -especially, and the whole Nation, sustains. - - - ------------------ - - - HE LOVED HIS COUNTRY. - - ------- - - _From the “Cuthbert Liberal.”_ - -IN the death of Henry W. Grady, Georgia loses one of her most gifted -sons. Though but a young man he had already acquired a name that will -live as long as Americans love liberty or humanity loves charity. Though -in point of years but just above the horizon of fame’s vast empyrean, -his sun shone with the splendor and brilliancy usually reached at the -zenith. As journalist, he was without a peer in his own loved Southland. -As orator, none since the death of the gifted Prentiss had, at his age, -won such renown. He loved Georgia, he loved the South, but his big heart -and soul encompassed his whole country. As patriot, his widespread arms -took in at one embrace the denizens upon the borders of the frozen lakes -and the dwellers among the orange groves that girt the Mexic sea. He -gave his life away in a masterful effort to revive peace and good will -between sections estranged by passion and prejudice, and races made -envious of each other by selfish intermeddling of those who would -perpetuate strife to gratify their own greed. As neighbor and friend, -those who knew him best loved him most. Wherever suffering or poverty -pinched humanity, there his heart beat in sympathy and there his hand -dispensed charity’s offerings without stint. Though we have differed -with him in many things, the grave now holds all our differences and our -tears blot out the bitterness of words or thoughts of the past. May the -God in whom he trusted dispense grace, mercy and peace to the widow and -orphans, whose grief and sorrow none but they can know. - - - ------------------ - - - A RESPLENDENT RECORD. - - ------- - - _From the “Madison Madisonian.”_ - -IT is almost impossible to realize that Henry Grady is dead; that the -eager, restless hands are stilled, and the great heart pulseless -forevermore. The soul turned sick at the tidings, and a wave of anguish -choked all utterance save lamentation alone. His people mourn his -passing with one mighty voice, and like Rachel weeping in the -wilderness, refuse to be comforted. - -It seems a grief too heavy to be borne, and as lasting as the -everlasting hills; but when time shall have laid its soothing hand upon -our woe, there will succeed a sensation of exultance and exaltation, the -natural consequence of a contemplation and appreciation of the briefness -and brilliancy of his course, and the proportions and perfection of his -handiwork. - -To few men has it been given to live as Grady lived; to still less to -die as Grady died, in the flush flood-tide of achievement, laying down -sword and buckler, the victory won, and bowing farewell while yet the -thunder-gust of plaudits shook the arena like a storm. He flamed like a -meteor athwart the night and vanished in focal mid-zenith, leaving the -illimitable void unstarred by an equal, whose rippling radiance, -flashing in splendor from its myriad facets, might gladden our -sublimated vision. - -And what of good he accomplished, all his claim to renown, and the sole -and simple cause of endearing him to mankind, rested upon one trait -alone, one Christ-like attribute and actuating motive. He held but one -creed and preached but one gospel—the gospel of love. “Little children, -love one another,” said, now nearly a score of centuries since, the -carpenter of Nazareth, and with this text—this first and greatest and -most divine of all the commandments—for a wizard’s wand, our modern -Merlin unlocked hearts and insured the hearty clasping of palms from one -end to the other of this broad land. - -What more resplendent record could man attain? What prouder fame be -shouted down the ages? - -His epitaph is written in the hearts of his people. His memory is -enshrined in the love of a nation. - -Let us leave him to repose. - - - ------------------ - - - DEDICATED TO HUMANITY. - - ------- - - _From the “Sandersville Herald and Georgian.”_ - -THE usual joyous season of Christmas tide has been saddened by funeral -dirges over the loss of Georgia’s gifted son. Since the death of the -eloquent and lamented Ben Hill, the loss of no man has aroused deeper -sorrow than Henry W. Grady. Greater demonstrations of grief with all the -emblems of mourning were perhaps never before exhibited in Georgia. -Memorial services were held not only in Atlanta, the city of his home, -but throughout the State, voicing the great love of the people and their -deep sense of the magnitude of his loss. More touching, beautiful -eulogies and panegyrics have perhaps never been pronounced over the bier -of any man. - -The intensity of the admiration for Henry Grady grew out of the fact -that his grand powers were all dedicated to the interests of humanity. -His magic pen, that charmed while it instructed, that delighted while it -moved, was laid under contribution to the good of his fellows. Eager for -the development of his State and her resources, he traversed the -lowlands of the South, and depicted her vast possibilities in the -cultivation of fruits, melons, etc., that have added so much to her -material wealth. Turning to the rock-ribbed mountains and hills of North -Georgia he pointed out the vast treasures of iron ore, marble and coal, -but waiting the hand of industry. In all sections he portrayed their -resources, their fields for manufacturers, the importance and value of -increased railroad transportation—in fact, leaving nothing undone that -seemed to promise good and prosperity to his people. - -The sunny heart which he always carried into his labors was his chief -charm. The playful yet ardent spirit which he always had he seemed -happily to be able to impart to others. Indeed, he seemed to be a -gatherer of sunbeams, his blithe spirit seemed to sing, - - Let us gather up the sunbeams - Lying all around our path, - Let us keep the wheat and roses, - Casting out the thorns and chaff. - -The sweet, pacific tone of his mind gave him a wonderful influence over -the masses. More than once when disturbing questions were agitating the -city, and party and personal feeling ran high, has he by his -conciliatory spirit and harmless pleasantry quelled the boisterous -multitude. This spirit was ever fruitful of methods and concessions by -which all could harmonize. It was the cropping out of these broad, -liberal views in the fields of national patriotism that arrested the -attention of other sections of the Union, and gave rise to calls for -Grady to address the people at the meeting of the Historical Society in -New York over two years ago. The eloquent utterances of the young -orator, as he painted the Confederate soldier returning from the war, -ragged, shoeless and penniless, fired the Northern heart with a sympathy -for the South it had never known before. - -From this time his fame as an orator was established, and he was at once -ranked among the greatest living orators of the day. - -Thoughtful men of the North, recognizing the race problem as one of the -coming momentous issues of the future, were eager to hear the broad -views and patriotic suggestions of this great pacificator. An invitation -was there extended by the Merchants’ Association of Boston to address -them at Faneuil Hall. The address seemed to call forth all his capacious -powers, and is styled the crowning masterpiece of his life. As he -graphically sketched the happy results of the sun shining upon a land -with all differences harmonized, with all aspirations purified by the -limpid fount of patriotism, he sketched a panorama of loveliness and -beauty and promise that enraptured his hearers. And as the notes of the -dying swan thrill with new melody, so the last utterances of the dying -statesman will have now a new charm for those who loved him. - - - ------------------ - - - THE SOUTH LAMENTS. - - ------- - - _From the “Middle Georgia Progress.”_ - -ONE week ago yesterday morning woe folded her dark and gloomy pinions -and settled over our fair and sunny Southland! He, who by his love for -us, by his incessant labor for the advancement of our material progress, -whose voice was raised to dispel the shadows of hate and prejudice, and -bring the North and South into a closer union, whose heart was filled -with charity, and whose hands were ever performing deeds of kindness, -the eloquent and gifted Grady—the knightly and chivalrous leader of the -peaceful hosts of the New South—was called to a brighter home in the -skies, where all is peace and joy and supernal bliss. The whole South -laments his death “and may his soul rest in peace” is the sentiment of -every heart. His virtues are sung in sweetest song, and his worth -proclaimed by lips tremulous with emotion. Young in years, but matured -in wisdom, he grappled the great question that affected his people, and -with matchless eloquence presented their cause on New England soil and -told of their loyalty and love, still cherishing and remembering the -traditions of the past. His death everywhere is recognized as a national -calamity. Every public utterance and every public appearance, whether in -New York, Boston, Texas or on his native soil, amid “the red old hills -of Georgia,” has been greeted with applause and demonstrations of -delight. Made fatherless in youth by the cruel ravage of war, he struck -out with a stout heart and strong hands for success—how well he achieved -it, the praises showered upon him from every quarter forcibly -demonstrate the fact! Who has not felt the warmth of his sunny -nature?—it glows in every stroke of his pen, and shines in all his -eloquent utterances, and brightens his memory as his name and triumphs -pass into history. Mr. Grady, by his pen and eloquence, has done more -for the South than any other of her sons, and their love and -appreciation is attested in their universal sorrow. His gifts were rare, -his eloquence wonderful, and he bore in honor and peace the standard of -his people, and they will ever keep his memory fresh and green. - - - ------------------ - - - HIS CAREER. - - ------- - - _From the “Dalton Citizen.”_ - -ONLY a few short weeks ago Hon. Henry W. Grady left his Atlanta home to -electrify a critical audience in Boston, Mass., with one of his -inimitable speeches. Through all the papers of the country the fame of -this magnificent address went ringing, and ere the speech itself was -printed, in full, the orator from whose lips it fell was stricken with a -fatal disease on his return homeward. In little more than a week his -life’s sands had run their course, and in the flush of a glorious and -useful manhood Henry Grady lay dead, while his eulogies were on the lips -of the whole nation. There has been much written by friends (he had no -foes) in the newspaper world concerning this great loss; but it is all -summed up in the words, “Henry Grady is dead!” - -Somewhere, in an English poet’s writings, we find a pregnant little -sentence: “I stood beside the grave of one who blazed the comet of a -season.” The career of Henry Grady has been likened by several speakers -and writers to a star burning brightly in the national and journalistic -sky, but its light quenched in the darkness of death ere it reached its -zenith. Fittest, it seems to us, is the simile quoted previously. A -comet trailing its brilliant light across the darkening heavens, a -spectacle focussing the gaze of millions of eyes, causing other stars to -sink into insignificance by reason of its greater glow and -grandeur.—Then, while the interest concerning its movements has reached -its intensity, its gleaming light fades, and presently the sky is merely -glittering again with the myriad stars, for the flash and the blaze of -the comet have disappeared forever and it is invisible to mortal eyes. -The question is, will another take its place, and when?—We think not -soon. Even should an orator, whose eloquence might sway multitudes, rise -to reign in the dead hero’s stead, it is more than probable that he -would not combine with his oratory the wonderful statistical knowledge -possessed by Mr. Grady, whose solid reasoning was only exceeded by the -winsome touch, creeping in here and there, of the true artistic nature. -He spoke in his last address of the South’s vast resources—of its -“cotton whitening by night beneath the stars, and by day the wheat -locking the sunshine in its bearded sheaf.” A practical argument at one -turn and a beautifully rounded sentence at another. - -These things made up the speeches that held so many in breathless -attention, augmented by his magnetic personality. It would be well for -our Southland could another as gifted shine forth in like splendor. - - - ------------------ - - - OUR FALLEN HERO. - - ------- - - _From the “Hartwell Sun.”_ - -WE little thought in our last issue for the old year, when we penned a -brief paragraph to the effect that Mr. Grady had returned from his -brilliant triumph in Boston to his home in Atlanta sick with a cold, -that in a few hours afterward his grand spirit should have winged its -flight to the home beyond, and that upon the Christmas day, when the -glad bells should ring out their joyous message of “Peace on earth—good -will to men” in the great city so much of his own making, that instead -they should toll the sad requiem of “Dust to dust,” and that every heart -from the ragged newsboy to the chief magistrate should be bursting with -anguish as the noble form of their idolized leader was consigned to the -cold, silent grave. - -The blow came so suddenly and was so totally unexpected, that it spread -consternation—not only in his own beloved State and Southland—but over -the entire country. Was there ever a man so universally loved with so -brief a career! Was there ever a man so sincerely and widely mourned! -Was there ever a man so grandly, so eloquently eulogized! Never have we -seen anything like it—never have we heard of anything like it; nor do we -believe there was ever a parallel. - -But all the panegyrics by passionate lips uttered, nor all the burning -words of eulogy by eloquent pens written, have yet expressed the -tremendous weight of sorrow that oppresses the hearts of the people who -loved him so well. This was indeed a time when strong men of mighty mind -and fluent tongue felt the utter poverty of expression and the -inadequacy of words. - -It did appear as if he was just entering upon his glorious career,—as if -his life’s work yet lay out before him. And yet what a glorious, what a -grand work he had done! And may not his death have emphasized his -glowing appeals for a broader charity; for an unquestioning confidence; -for fraternal love and justice; for a re-united country. In our very -heart we believe so. If not—God help our country! - -We will not attempt to eulogize Henry Grady—to speak of his brilliant -intellect; of his matchless eloquence; of his spotless character; of his -great, warm, unselfish heart—that has already been done by those better -fitted for the loving task; but the hot tears blind our eyes as we think -of the handsome, boyish form of the peerless Grady lying cold in the -remorseless embrace of death. Peace be to his precious ashes!—Eternal -joy to his immortal spirit! - - - ------------------ - - - A DEATHLESS NAME. - - ------- - - _From the “Gainesville Eagle.”_ - -There was buried in Atlanta yesterday a young man that illustrated the -possibilities of American youth. - -There are two forces that combine to make great men—heredity and -environment. The first had given Henry Grady magnificent natural -endowment—a kingly and masterful mind. The second gave him opportunity, -and he utilized it for all it was worth. Combined, they have given him a -deathless name and fame that will make one of the brightest pages in the -Southland’s history. - -All over the land, men and women, who loved his sweetness of soul, -grieve to-day over his untimely end. All over the South, men who -expected much of his tongue and pen, mourn sincerely the loss of the -brilliant mind which worshiped so loyally at Patriotism’s altar. How -illy could he be spared. How inscrutable the ways of Providence! We can -but bow and grieve. - -But what an inspiration the history of his brief years! Poor and unknown -a few years ago, he died in a halo of glory that had made his name a -household word over a continent. His life was a psalm of praise. Like -the birds, he sang because he must. Eloquence dwelt in his tongue like -the perfume in the heart of the flowers; sweetness flowed from his pen -as the honey comes from the mysterious alchemy of the bee—it was his -nature. - -This is not the time or place to analyze or measure his life-work. -History and the future must render that verdict. Frankly, we are not of -those who believe that his speeches—eloquent and grand as they were—will -wipe out sectional feeling. The people who hate and fear the South are -given over to believe a lie. It is their stock in trade; it is the life -blood of their political partisanship, and though one rose from the -dead, they would not believe. But he had done and was doing, and had he -lived would have brought to a marvelous fruition something of far more -practical value. He had made known to the world the marvelous resources -of the South, and gotten the ear of capital and enterprise and brought, -and was bringing, the enginery of its power to unlock the storehouses of -an untold wealth. ’Tis here his grandest work was done. Call it selfish, -if you will, but ’tis here our loss is greatest. - -His brilliancy, dash and originality had made the great journal, of -which he was the head, easily the foremost newspaper of the South. His -eloquent tongue and matchless pen had made him par excellence the -exemplar and apostle of this grand and growing section. - -But the end has come. Only He who has smitten can know whether such -another prophet shall rise in the wilderness to lead us forward to the -glorious destiny which his prophetic eye foresaw, and to which his -throbbing, loyal heart gave itself and died. - - - ------------------ - - - A GREAT SOUL. - - ------- - - _From the “Baxley Banner.”_ - -A GREAT soul has passed away. - -After a life brief but brilliant, he is lost to the country that loved -and honored him, and which his lofty eloquence and pure patriotism have -illustrated and adorned. - -As the lightning that comes out of the South, and flashes from horizon -to horizon, so was his short life in its bright, swift passage, -illuminating the earth. - -In the death of Henry Grady, his city, his State, the South, the whole -country has suffered a great loss. His voice was ever the ringing, -stirring herald-tones that announced the promise of fairer days and a -happier people. He was no low-browed, latter-day prophet of evil; but -preached here and everywhere the new and bright evangel of hope. He was -the voice of his city, heard ringing through Georgia and the Union; the -voice of his State, heard clarion-like from ocean to ocean, and the -golden-mouthed messenger from the South to the North, proclaiming a -brotherhood of love that the shock of war had not destroyed. And thus -his death will be mourned, not in Atlanta or in Georgia only, but -wherever an American heart is, that heart will mourn his death. - -Particularly is Mr. Grady’s death a loss to journalism. He stood the -peer of any in the world, and was the greatest journalist in the South. -His pen was as eloquent as his tongue, and from the closet as well as -from the platform his words came with vivifying power, refreshing and -inspiring. - -Death struck him down from the lofty pinnacle of fame, to which his -eloquence had so swiftly upborne him. A young man, he had already -reached a height that would have dazzled a weaker soul, and he has -fallen in the midst of his triumph, while yet the plaudits of tens of -thousands from every part of this country rang fainter and fainter on -his dying ear. It was something worth to have such heartfelt -approbations sounding around him as he sunk to his last sleep. It was -the crowning of a life well lived, and spent with lavish patriotism for -his country’s weal. - -He burned his life to the socket like a swift devouring flame. His -energy was tremendous, and almost feverish in its eagerness to do -something worth the doing. He returned to his city and his home with -death upon him, stricken even in his great triumph. The glow of fever -followed hard upon the glow of victory, and so, after a brief and -burning life—a life crowded thick with triumphs, “God’s finger touched -him and he slept”—the sleep He giveth to His beloved. - -Of his private life all may speak. We know it well. It is familiar to us -all as household words, though his charity and his kindness were without -ostentation. He was generous without stint, and whether it was as the -boy making up a fund to buy a poor schoolmate a handsome suit to -graduate in, or as the man lending a helping hand to lift or guide the -needy, self was forgotten in his kindness to others. In thousands of -homes he will be - - Named softly as the household name - Of one whom God has taken. - -His city, his State, and his country will build for him a shaft, but his -greatest monument will be in the hearts that mourn his death. - -A great and loving soul has passed. - - - ------------------ - - - IN MEMORIAM. - - ------- - - _From the “Henry County Times.”_ - -THE public heart, still quivering and aching from the shock occasioned -by the death of its venerated and talented leader, Jefferson Davis, had -its cup of woe and grief filled to overflowing by those words of -doom—“Henry Grady is dead.” In the natural course of events, the first -catastrophe was one that might have happened any time in the past ten -years, as the great Confederate chief had long since passed the limit of -three-score-and-ten, the average limit attached by Biblical authority to -human life. Mr. Davis descended to his grave full of years and honors, -and while he was universally and sincerely mourned in the South, still, -it did not fall upon us with that electric suddenness which so shocked -and agonized the Southern heart as when our young Demosthenes became a -victim to the fell destroyer. - -So universal is this sorrow, that a separate and personal bereavement -could not have more completely shrouded in grief the public mind than -did the announcement of his death. The advent of the dark angel into -each and every household could not have more completely paralyzed the -public mind than did the untimely taking off of this superbly gifted son -of Georgia. Never since the angel of the Lord smote the first-born of -Egyptian households for lack of mystic symbols on the door, has a -people’s sorrow been so deep, so universal, and so sincere. Had the end -of such a man come in the proper course of nature, heralded by such -physical changes as indicate the approach of death, it might have been -better borne, but would still have been an event of national misfortune -that would have taxed to the uttermost the endurance of hearts already -lacerated by freshly opened wounds. Had we been in the possession of -such warnings as it was in the power of Omnipotence to have granted us, -still the blow would have been unutterably painful and overpowering. But -that he, who was conceded to be the intellectual peer of any in the -nation; who was without a superior as an orator in the present -generation; that he who was in an especial manner fitted to be the -champion of the South in her appeal for justice at the bar of public -opinion, both in Europe and America; that he, who was so richly endowed -should suddenly and without warning, as it were, become the victim of -death, and have all the bright and brilliant promise of a life whose sun -had risen so gloriously, quenched in death and darkness, might well move -a people to tears, and clothe a nation in sackcloth and ashes. - - - ------------------ - - - A PEOPLE MOURN. - - ------- - - _From the “Warrenton Clipper.”_ - -THE people of the Southland are wrapped in grief and a nation mourns in -sympathy. While all nature beams with beauteous smiles and December -luxuriates in the balmy breezes of spring, he whom we had learned to -love and to whom his people turned for hope and encouragement, lies -wrapped in earth’s cold embrace. Henry W. Grady is dead. Early Monday -morning his brave spirit forsook its earthly tenement and sought Him who -had given it being. The electric words which flashed the sad news -through the length and breadth of the country carried mourning into -thousands of homes and millions of hearts. The friend of the people was -dead, and one universal sense of sorrow pervaded the minds of all. - -Mr. Grady had just returned from Boston, where he had delivered one of -the grandest addresses of his life, before the Boston Merchants’ -Association, upon the Southern question. The speech was thoroughly -Southern in its character, and a grand defense of the course of his -people in national politics and their dealings with the colored race. -Exposure in the raw New England atmosphere caused him to contract a -severe cold which rapidly grew worse. He was very ill when he returned -to Atlanta and pneumonia in its worst form soon developed. He lay ill at -his beautiful home in Atlanta for a few days only, gradually growing -worse, until the end came Monday morning. - -Though his dangerous situation was known, the probability of his death -did not seem to occur to the people. That the youthful, magnetic, -beloved Grady could die seemed impossible. When the blow had fallen its -effect was to stun, and had we been told that it was a dream, a mistake, -we would really have believed it and sought out some new evidence of his -popularity. Dead! Is it possible! Before he had reached the prime of his -manhood or the zenith of his fame! Did Death but waylay to seize him -just as we were learning his worth? Of the many mysteries of life death -is the greatest. - -Nothing shows more the high estimation in which the man was held than -the widespread sources from which came the words of sympathy and -condolence; from field and fireside, from town and hamlet, from city -street and mansion, from every source in which his noble words have -found an echo, poured forth the gentle words of sympathy and sorrow. -Statesmen and soldiers hastened to proffer their sympathy and great men -of every rank condoled with the bereaved ones. Not a prominent Northern -journal but devoted considerable space to his memory. Party and creed -were alike forgotten. Not a whisper of depreciation was heard from any -source. - -There never died a man within the history of the State whose fame was so -recent, who was so generally loved and admired in life and so -universally regretted in death. On Christmas, the day of joy and peace, -we laid our hero to rest. Not the less a hero because his were the -victories of peace. No victor, fresh from the bloody field of battle, -was ever more deserving of his laurel wreaths than he of the chaplets we -can only lay upon his grave. The lips that pleaded so eloquently for -peace and union are stilled in death, and the hand that penned so many -beautiful words for the encouragement of his people moves no more. A -sense of peculiar personal loss is upon us. The old men have lost a son, -the young men a brother. Atlanta mourns her foremost citizen, the State -a devoted son, the South an able defender and the Nation an honored -citizen. Our matchless Grady is no more. - - - ------------------ - - - HENRY W. GRADY IS NO MORE. - - ------- - - _From the “Valdosta Times.”_ - -HENRY W. GRADY is dead. His great soul has passed from this mundane -sphere. Truly “a silver tongue is hushed and a golden pen is broken.” -Matchless orator, brilliant journalist, able statesman, patriotic -citizen, noble man—shall we see your like again! - -When Stonewall Jackson fell fighting for the land he loved, the -Confederacy lost her great right arm, and never recovered from the blow. -So, in these post-bellum days—in times of comparative peace—but under -anomalous and trying conditions—the South loses her ablest leader, and -at a time when his services seem most needed, and when he was doing that -service so nobly and well. The death of Mr. Grady in ’89 compares only, -in the Southern estimate, with the loss of Jackson in ’63. Viewed from -the natural side of human wisdom, his death, in the words of the great -Republican orator of New York, is a national calamity. - -This young man, from obscurity and poverty, by the sheer force of his -genius, sprang easily and early to a national celebrity which few dare -hope for, and fewer still attain in the generations of men. He was both -brilliant and practical, both gentle and wise. He would build a factory -or a railroad, or found a great exposition, as easily as he would -deliver a bright oration. He would counsel with statesmen with the same -tact and ease that he would go gunning with the young men of the town. -When he touched a man he made a friend. - -The writer, who would pay this short and poor tribute, knew him for -eighteen years. He has seen him from many points of view—mostly as an -opponent in State politics, but always as a friend. In his office at -work—at his private board—in the political caucus—on an angling or -gunning expedition—his transcendent genius always shown with a rare and -radiant light. To these who have known him well he has long been the man -the world has recently found him to be—one of the greatest men of his -time; to such his loss is felt as a personal bereavement. Each one, when -his name is heard, will recall some word or deed to cherish as a -fragrance from the tomb. Such memories will be treasured in the hearts -of many, from Grover Cleveland to the saucy newsboys who cry the -_Constitution_ on the streets of Atlanta. - -But to abler pens, and to those who have known him longer and better, -the task is left to pronounce a fitting eulogy. - -Of his life and his death, much space is ungrudgingly given elsewhere in -this issue of the _Times_. Let the young men of the country read, and -learn of him who has passed away at thirty-eight years of age and left -the impress of his genius upon the greatest Nation of the earth. - - - ------------------ - - - “MAYBE HIS WORK IS FINISHED.” - - ------- - - _From the “Dalton Argus.”_ - -HENRY WOODFIN GRADY died Monday morning, December 23, 1889, from -bronchial and other troubles, irritated by his recent visit to Boston, -where he made his last and greatest speech in behalf of the section and -people he loved so well. - -Since England lost her Wellington, and America her Lincoln, no greater -calamity has moved a people to sympathetic tears than the death of Henry -Grady. His life was the fulfillment of a noble man, and his grand -impulses touched every phase of humanity. No man was ever better known -to his country by an unbroken chain of rarer virtues, nobler purposes, -and more powerful capacities. His work, in whatever field, was the -impetuosity of patriotism. His successes stand as a mark of indomitable -energy. Possessing an extraordinary faculty of grasping opportunities at -the full flood tide, he illustrated the perfect patriot in forgetting -self for common good, the genuine friend in bestowing his own advantages -to others. Only he that worthily lives, in death enshrines himself in -the hearts of his people, and not a wire in all the network of -commercial arteries but that has given, in messages of love, cadences of -a country’s sorrow. When poets and patriots are met at the bier by the -hushed voices of the rabble, and commerce pauses to pay tribute, -Heaven-blest must be the spirit that gives flight from earth. In all the -walks of life Henry Grady has left remembrances that suggest homage to -his worth. - -But his name shall occupy a space in history, filling the brightest -niche of an illustrious age, that his life shall stand out boldly in the -perfect beauty of its accomplishment. - -There is a touching coincidence in his death, following so closely after -that of Jefferson Davis, that the funeral dirge of one almost blends -into the decadence of the other, giving figure to an illustration as -true as it is sublime. - -Who can refute the suggestion that it was a wise decree of Providence, -staying the relentless demands of Time that sectional prejudice might -lose its forceful resentment, lending ear to the vigorous mind of Davis, -through the very nobility of his after life; and giving communion of -perfect sympathy through the pleading of Henry Grady, caught up as if -from the living embers of the old, a fair type of that historic period, -imbued with all the demands of the present, his patriotic ardor glowing -with fire of eloquence, his dying speech giving tumult of enthusiasm in -voice of advocacy, expounding reason indorsed by every Southern man? - -No man better knew the temper of his people, or gave thought with riper -philosophy to the issues which surround them; or was less fearless to -speak the truth. - -As a common country gave applause to the logic of the living, may we not -trust in the prophecy of the mourning mother, that the work for which he -gave his life, in unmurmuring sacrifice, is truly accomplished? - -There is such pathos in the incident of this last grand effort to break -the cordons of estrangement between the sections as may justify the -hope. - -The South, undemonstrative, unprejudiced, unyielding furthermore, pleads -for no fairer basis. - - - ------------------ - - - HE NEVER OFFENDED. - - ------- - - _From the “Washington Chronicle.”_ - -HE died peacefully at his home in Atlanta on Monday morning at forty -minutes past three o’clock. As the news flashed over the wires it -imparted a thrill of anguish to every Southern heart. For he was a great -favorite at the South. And at the North he had cause to be proud of his -reputation. It would be impossible to compare Mr. Grady with any man who -has lived. His character was unique and so was his work. It is idle and -senseless talk to conjecture what his future might have been if he had -lived. His course is run and his life is finished, as completely -finished as if he had lived an hundred years and died. What was that -life? Grady was a big-hearted, whole-souled fellow, a man of the people, -a statesman and a patriot. His intellectual attainments and all fitted -him for the grand and brilliant position which he reached. True as steel -to his native South, he was able to conciliate the North. A man of noble -impulses, he never offended. In sober truth he was a great man, and -accomplished a great work which will live after him and glorify his -name. - - Were a star quenched on high, - Forever would its light, - Still traveling downward from the sky, - Shine on our mortal sight. - - So when a great man dies, - Ages beyond our ken, - The light he leaves behind him lies - Upon the paths of men. - - - ------------------ - - - THE SOUTH IN MOURNING. - - ------- - - _From the “Elberton Star.”_ - -HENRY W. GRADY, the peerless orator and true patriot, has been called to -join the silent majority. This sad intelligence reached Elberton last -Monday morning, by private telegram, and there was a gloom cast over the -community unequaled in the history of the town. Henry Grady was loved -and admired all over the South, but nowhere more dearly than in this -section. - -It seems hard that this brilliant young statesman should have been cut -off just before he had gained the goal, just prior to when he would have -written his name among that galaxy of eminent men who have gone before -and made the world better for having lived in it. If Grady had lived he -would have carried to a happy ultimatum the purpose he had just -commenced in solving the vexatious race problem, and in doing this he -would have had a place with the names of Jefferson, Washington, Clay, -Calhoun, and Webster. - -Grady was a great man. He was not only an orator of Hill-like ability, -but he was a statesman. His writings and speeches for years were well -able and well panoplied to grapple with and treat the most intricate and -complicated questions in a masterly manner. - -His recent speech in Boston, at which time he contracted the cold that -terminated in his premature death, was particularly and singularly -forcible. The press and people, both North and South, with one accord -pronounced it one of the ablest papers of the nineteenth century, and -with this great work begun, and the great architect thereof dead, it is -difficult to conjecture who will or can come to the front and finish the -grand and noble undertaking. - -Grady’s first and greatest love was Atlanta. He was like an -inexhaustible gold mine to that town, and the Gate City has sustained an -irreparable loss. But Atlanta’s confines were too contracted for a heart -and brain like his. He loved Georgia, almost like he loved his mother, -and for Georgia’s weal, he would have sacrificed his all. - -Georgia’s loss, the South’s loss, cannot be estimated. - -At his bier we bow our heads in profound sorrow, and were it so that we -could, we would cull the whitest flower in the whole world and place it -on the grave of this the truest, noblest Georgian of them all. - - - ------------------ - - - STRICKEN AT ITS ZENITH. - - ------- - - _From the “Greenesboro Herald and Journal.”_ - -ON the mild Christmas morning the heart of Georgia is bowed in sorrow -over the death of her favorite son. It seems, indeed, a mockery that -amidst the joys and festivities of the Christmas time, the dark shadow -of the relentless foe of man should intrude his presence and take from -our land one who was its brightest hope, its strongest support! - -And yet it is true. Henry Grady is dead! The orator, the journalist, the -poet by nature, the man of the people, is dead! We cannot realize it. So -bright in his strong young manhood but one short week ago, now folded in -the arms of death! A greater shock, a keener sorrow was never crushed -upon a people! - -This is not the time, in the shadow of the grave but in the brightness -of his glory, to speak fully of him that is gone! Our pen fails, and all -it can say is “Thou has stricken Thy people, O God! and in Thy wisdom -Thou hast given us bitterness to drain! Let not our hearts rebel against -Thee, our Lord and our God!” - -The death which has come to Georgia to-day cannot be measured in its -irreparable loss. A week ago the South was in mourning over the death of -her great leader! But he belonged to the past, and while the sorrow fell -deep, yet we realize that a life had ended which had filled its fullest -mission. But in the death of Henry Grady the South has lost a leader of -to-day—an active, earnest, true man, whose heart, bound up in the -advancement of his people, was but laying brighter and fresher and truer -plans for their prosperity. To every heart in the South the question -comes “Who will lead us now? Who will defend our principles now that he -is taken from us?” And out of the blackness of our desolation it seems -that no star shines to guide us! - -It is, perhaps, well that the last effort of Mr. Grady was in defense of -our institutions and in support of the principles, motives and ambitions -of his people. He died with the gathering halo of a people’s love -clustering about him! He went to death with a defense of that people -clinging to his lips and to his heart! In the zenith of his usefulness -he was cut down! Why? God in His infinite wisdom knows best! - -We can pay no tribute to the memory of Henry Grady greater than the love -which weeps at his bier this morning. And yet the writer would lay, -amidst the offerings which fall from the overflowing hearts of thousands -to-day, a tiny tribute to his memory. He was our friend, wise and true -and earnest in his counsels—pointing out that the true end of the -journalist is the defense and advancement of his people. As a -journalist, perhaps, has his greatest work been done, and upon the heart -of every man of the pen he left an impression that his vocation is -ennobled and is the grander that Henry Grady made it his love. And, in -the shadow of death will come this consoling thought. That the press, -which was his power, and which remains as the bulwark of the people, is -the purer, and the better, and the stronger from the principles which -Henry Grady inculcated in it. To carry out that work, which has fallen -from his hands in death, should move the heart of every journalist, and -when its fullest fruition has come, then will the crown upon the fame of -Henry Grady shine the brighter! - -Peace to the great man gathered to his reward! The future will crown his -memory with the bright flowers which will come as the fruition of his -hopes and of his life-work! - - - ------------------ - - - THE SOUTHLAND MOURNS. - - ------- - - _From the “Griffin Morning Call.”_ - -THE brilliant young editor of the Atlanta _Constitution_ entered into -rest eternal and closed an earth-life remarkable for splendor at 3:40 -o’clock yesterday morning. His brief career reflects not only glory upon -his name, but also crowns with unique distinction the high profession of -journalism. A noble representative of the grand old State of Georgia, -the lustre of his life-work was reflected upon the commonwealth he -served and to whose honor he consecrated the ripeness of his learning, -his eloquence and his patriotism. - -His harp hangs now mute upon the willows! No more shall the soul and -intellect of the thoughtful North or South, in New York, New England, -Texas or Georgia, be stirred to the depths by his impassioned words or -impressed by his unanswerable logic. “The silver cord is loosed, the -golden bowl is broken.” But the music his harp evoked is not dead and -shall long linger a sweet song in many hearts, and his works do follow -him. - -He was born in Athens, Ga., in 1851, and though a man of well ripened -powers, had not reached that prime when a strong man’s capacity for -labor is most highly tested. - -He was educated at the State University, and afterward pursued a post -graduate course at the University of Virginia, where so many noble -characters have been molded. - -Here the orator and scholar grew and nature’s rare gifts were fused and -refined in the crucible of mental discipline. The studies which -specially attracted him and in which he excelled, were Greek, -Anglo-Saxon, history and belles-letters. Thus, evidently a most copious -vocabulary was created and the mind stored with fertile illustrations in -the department of history and general literature. In the happy use of -words, in graceful rhetoric he was not surpassed by any American of his -day. Roscoe Conkling or Col. Ingersoll might be compared to him, but the -former had not Grady’s tact, neither his full vocabulary, and never -treated the difficult and delicate topics Grady handled. And Ingersoll, -though having remarkable power of language and an accomplished -rhetorician, had not the logical mind of the brilliant young Georgian, -and tinges his best efforts with bitterness and cant. - -Grady was natural, even-tempered, generous, warm-hearted. His end came -after the greatest effort of his life. His Boston speech will do an -inestimable benefit to the South at a time when, under President -Harrison, the bitter and partisan spirit of the Republicans was -leavening much of the thought of the North. Mr. Grady addressed Northern -people from the home of Phillips and Sumner, and his words have rung -from Boston to San Francisco. His great speech was susceptible to no -criticism for taste, for loyalty to our convictions, for impressive -oratory or convincing argument. His facts and his logic are as strong as -his word painting. - -His beautiful tribute to the land which “lies far South” is a literary -gem not destined alone to stir the hearts at the time of its utterance. -It will live for its poetry, its tender sentiment and its reality. - -If our friends across Dixie’s mythical line are but moved to do justice -to a long suffering people, and trust us for loyalty to settle our -peculiar problems, Grady has not lived in vain and will be the great -apostle of his age. - -Lay him gently to rest then, Georgians, in this sweet Christmas time, -while the bells are chiming the notes of his Savior’s birth, and cover -his grave with holly, mistletoe, and ivy, until the Master comes in -glorious majesty to judge the world, and earth and sea give up their -dead. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE “CONSTITUTION” - - _AND ITS WORK_ - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - -[Illustration: - - ATLANTA CONSTITUTION BUILDING. -] - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - THE “CONSTITUTION” AND ITS WORK. - - ------- - -THE Atlanta _Constitution_ came into being in the seething chaos of -reconstruction. The name suggests the issue of which it was born and the -cause which gave it life and strength at the beginning of its career. -Georgia was being reconstructed under military supervision, against the -will of a vast majority of the people, and there was no journal -published in Atlanta which gave adequate expression to the sentiment of -a million people. The old _Intelligencer_, which had been the clarion of -war times, was no longer equal to the emergency. It had bravely breasted -the storm of war, dodging about between bomb-shells and issuing forth -defiant, one day in one town and one day in another, sometimes even -setting up its press in a box car. But for the more trying times of -reconstruction it was not adequate. The fiery tone and dauntless -attitude were gone and it began to counsel for the things that were. -While the people were idolizing Ben Hill for his superb defiance and -applauding the unreconstructed and unterrified Toombs, there was no -paper to voice the deep and unconquerable sentiment against -reconstruction and for the re-establishment of the State constitution. - -It was then that the _Constitution_ appeared. When Messrs. W. A. -Hemphill and J. H. Anderson bought a little sheet called _Public -Opinion_, and put Colonel Carey Styles in charge as editor, he named it -_The Constitution_, and the name became its shibboleth and its issue. -The editor was a bold and fearless writer and a fiery and impetuous -orator. His editorials glowed with defiance of the reconstructionists, -and his speeches were iridescent with burning denunciation. Writing and -speaking on the side of the people, he made the paper immensely popular, -and the enterprise of the proprietors kept it rolling on the crest of -the tide. - -From the first the _Constitution_ was a more enterprising news-gatherer -than any of its contemporaries. It was the first to employ special -correspondents in all parts of the State and the South. The system which -has since become comprehensive and well-nigh perfect was then in its -beginning, but it was something new in Georgia, and attracted attention. -It was in this way that Mr. Grady was employed to go with the press -excursion which passed through North Georgia, looking and writing to the -development of the resources of the State, and his “King Hans” letters -on that trip gave the first news from the important points of the -excursion. - -In those early days the _Constitution_ was not without literary -attractions. The associate editor with Colonel Styles was Mayor J. R. -Barrick, a genial gentleman, much beloved by his acquaintances and known -to the public as a scholar and poet. He had been a _protégé_ of George -D. Prentice, who had recognized in the young man literary talent of no -common order. - -In those days editorials were of the first importance. The State was -being reconstituted, and great questions that went down to the -foundations of government were being discussed. The orators of the day -were Ben Hill, Toombs, Alexander Stephens, and scores of lesser but not -inconsiderable lights. Speeches were matters of vital importance to -newspapers and the public, and the leading orators were always -stenographically reported. The modern synopsis would not then suffice. -There were giants in those days, and the people hung upon their words; -their utterances must be given in full. Editorials must rise to the same -level, and great questions must be handled with the same dignity and -earnestness. Men were not too busy to think and read, and they demanded -mental pabulum that was strong and rich. Talent was at a premium, and -its services easily commanded good pay. The owners of the _Constitution_ -were the first to realize the priceless value of Mr. Grady’s genius, and -when he was yet a college boy under age, Mr. Hemphill, who had lived in -Athens, where Mr. Grady grew up, made his guardian a proposition to buy -an interest in the _Constitution_ for Mr. Grady on condition that he -should take the position of managing editor. From then until Captain -Howell employed him in 1876, the _Constitution_ never lost sight of Mr. -Grady. While attending the University of Virginia he contributed to the -paper, and on his return he was engaged by the editor to represent the -_Constitution_ on the press excursion referred to above. - -The mechanical appliances of Southern newspapers at that time were -vastly out of proportion to the matter then carried. The _Constitution_ -was born and swaddled in a store-room on Alabama Street. It was a long -room with a skylight, and printer’s cases were arranged along the wall -on either side. In front was the business office, and in one corner a -little room was partitioned off for the editors. There was a freemasonry -between printers and editors, and the whole force glowed with enthusiasm -for the cause which was epitomized in the paper’s name. - -After reconstruction became a fact the State swarmed with aliens, and -the people were goaded to fury under negro and carpet-bag government. -The Capitol was infested with unknown men suddenly thrust into power, -and they carried extravagant measures with a high hand. A Republican -Governor was in office, and the venerable Secretary of State, Colonel -N.C. Barnet, lately deceased, had gone out, carrying with him the great -seal of the State, which he refused to allow affixed to any official act -of men ushered into office by the military authorities. The State was -involved in lottery schemes and loaded down with railroad bonds on which -Treasurer Angier, a sturdy Republican, had refused to put his signature. -The sessions of the Legislature were held in a great opera house sold to -the State by private parties for an enormous price. In the building was -a restaurant, confectionery shop, and velocipede rink. It was a scene -decried, and the proceedings of the Legislature were daily denounced by -the press and people. Among the boldest and most scathing critics of -those disgraceful transactions was the _Constitution_, and its editor in -his public speeches smote the participants hip and thigh. The fight was -on for the redemption of the State, and it was waged without ceasing -till the yoke was thrown off and a Democratic Governor was elected in -1872. In all that fight the _Constitution_ was the leading newspaper, -and from the beginning the battle was waged with the uncompromising -fervor that had characterized its opposition to the reconstructionists. -In both these contests it was with the people, and in its columns they -found free and full expression. The bitterness of those days has died -out, and many of the sturdiest opponents have become friends; -differences of judgment have long since been allowed admissible, but the -friendships cemented in the heat of those contests are deep and abiding, -and for its gallant services then the _Constitution_ is still endeared -to the people of Georgia. - -With the redemption of the State from negro and carpet-bag rule, there -was no local political issue of transcendent importance. The State was -safe, and people began to look about and take account of what was left -from the wreck of war and reconstruction. The country was in a -deplorable condition, and its rehabilitation almost a work of despair. -In the midst Atlanta had begun to rise out of the ashes, and the brave -spirits that gathered here had already made a name for the new city, -which began to be looked upon as something more than a Phoenix; but all -around was desolation. The plantations were in a deplorable condition, -fences were rotting, and houses were going to decay. The first flush -times of peace and greenbacks had passed, and the panic of 1873 left -every interest depressed. It was then that the effects of war and waste -were fully felt, and then that the stoutest hearts were tried. Labor was -restless and hard to control, the planter was out of funds and interest -was high, real estate outside a few favored localities was depreciating, -and the farmers were almost at the point of desperation. - -In all this hopelessness there were a few hopeful spirits, here and -there one that could chirp. The hot days of politics were past and the -newspapers must look to other fields. The _Constitution_ was the first -to look to the development of the State’s resources as the new -opportunity for journalistic enterprise. This was a reconstruction in -which the people could take part; the _Constitution_ had fought the one, -it would lead the other. From that time until now development has been -the _Constitution’s_ most important mission, and in that field its most -earnest efforts have been put forth. Constructive journalism was a new -thing, and the _Constitution_ became the pioneer. Men might differ on -matters of public policy, but no one could afford to differ with a -newspaper devoted to building up its environment, its city, State, and -section. - -Here in Atlanta the effect of this new policy was first felt, and here -are its richest results; but helpfulness is contagious, and everywhere -the _Constitution_ touched there was a better feeling, and on account of -that feeling it touched farther and farther. Coupling with this -constructive policy a news system of unprecedented thoroughness, the -_Constitution_ became inseparably connected with the life of the people. -It was in touch with them everywhere in Georgia and the surrounding -States, and finally its beneficent influence spread throughout the whole -South, inspiring, encouraging, building up. While some old statesmen -were conducting in its columns a discussion as to whether Georgia was -growing richer or poorer, the policy of repair was unremittingly -pursued; and before the death of Alexander Stephens, who had cried out -that the State was going to decay, the signs of new life had already -appeared and people began to talk about a New South. - -The New South sprang from the scions of the old, and everywhere -Confederate soldiers were leaders in this upbuilding. While they -cherished the relics of by-gone valor and continued to keep the graves -of their dead comrades green, they looked hopefully to the future and -strove to lay the foundations of new greatness and future influence in -the restored Union. This was the key-note of the most enlightened press, -led by the _Constitution_, whose editor, Capt. Howell, was a Confederate -soldier. - -There came an interesting period of rivalry in this good work when Mr. -Grady dashed into the arena. With the impulsive Alston he took charge of -the Atlanta _Herald_ in 1873, and for two years it was warm in Atlanta. -Colonel J. W. Avery, who succeeded Barrick as editor of the -_Constitution_, had gone over to the _Herald_, and Colonel E. Y. Clarke, -who had bought out Mr. Anderson, was editor of the _Constitution_, while -Mr. Hemphill remained business manager, a position he has filled without -intermission since the birth of the paper. He and Colonel Clarke had -already built the old _Constitution_ building on Broad Street. Mr. Grady -was making the _Herald_ one of the brightest papers ever published in -Atlanta, and there were several other dailies in the field. The old -_Intelligencer_ had passed away, and in its place had come the _Sun_, a -Democratic paper edited by Alexander Stephens. _The New Era_, a -scholarly Republican paper, was edited by Colonel William L. Scruggs, -now Minister Plenipotentiary to Venezuela, and _The True Georgian_, -another Republican paper, was edited by Sam Bard, a rugged product of -those times. When the _Herald_ came into this field there were five -morning dailies in Atlanta. From the first the contest for supremacy was -between the _Constitution_ and the _Herald_. With Georgia Republicanism, -the Republican papers passed out of existence, and the _Sun_ soon -followed, leaving only the _Constitution_ and the _Herald_. In 1875 the -fight between the two papers became desperate. There was no morning -train on the Macon and Western road, and both papers wanted to reach -middle Georgia. The result was that both ran special engines every -morning from Atlanta to Macon, a distance of 104 miles. The expense of -these engines absorbed the entire receipts of both papers, and left them -to borrow money to pay ordinary expenses. The engines carried not over a -thousand papers. - -During the month that this fight for existence endured there were many -exciting scenes. Both papers went to press about four o’clock, and it -was a race to the depot every morning. The paper which got there first -was given the main line first, and the day’s sales depended largely on -the quickness of the cart-boys. - -The contest was spirited but short. Both papers were heavily involved, -and it was a question of endurance. The _Constitution_ had almost -reached the end of its row when a mortgage was foreclosed on the -_Herald_. The _Constitution_ survived with a heavy debt. In 1872 Mr. N. -P. T. Finch had bought an interest in the paper, and after the failure -of the _Herald_ Mr. Clarke retired and Mr. Finch became editor. In 1876 -Captain E. P. Howell, who had had some experience in journalism as city -editor of the _Intelligencer_ in its most vigorous days, and had since -accumulated some property in the practice of law, bought with his -brother Albert a half interest in the _Constitution_, and took the -position of editor-in-chief, which he has held ever since. About the -first thing Captain Howell did was to employ Mr. Grady, and the next day -he secured Joel Chandler Harris. With this incomparable trio, associated -with Mr. Finch, the paper began editorially a new life. The remnant of -debts incurred in the fight with the _Herald_ was soon wiped out, and -from that day the _Constitution_ has enjoyed unbroken prosperity. - -Strongly equipped all around, the _Constitution_ enlarged and -intensified its operations. The campaign of 1876 was on, and Mr. Grady -was sent to Florida, where he unearthed and exposed the ugly transaction -by which the electoral vote of that State was given to Hayes. The whole -nation hung upon the result with breathless interest, and newspapers -were willing to pay any price for the news. The _Constitution_ and the -New York _Herald_ were the first to unearth the fraud. On such occasions -the _Constitution_ always had the news, and soon came to be looked upon -as the most enterprising paper in the South. - -With the inauguration of Hayes the South turned away from politics in -disgust, and then it was that the _Constitution_ gave a new cue to the -efforts of the people and turned their slumbering energy to the -development of Georgia and the South. - -Mr. Grady, whose Washington letters had made him a national reputation, -turned his energies and his heart to development. He went about among -the people looking into their concerns and making much of every -incipient enterprise. In the agricultural regions he wrote letters that -were pastoral poems in prose, strangely mixed with an intoxicating -combination of facts and figures. When he wrote about Irish potatoes his -city editor, Josiah Carter, now editor of the Atlanta _Journal_, planted -several acres as a speculation; when he told of the profits in truck -farming there was a furore in the rural districts; and when he got out -on the stock farms and described the mild-eyed Jerseys, the stockmen -went wild, and the herds were increased, while calves sold for fabulous -prices. - -Wherever he went his pen touched on industry, and as if by magic it grew -and prospered. Fruits, melons, farms, minerals, everything that was in -sight, he wrote about; and everything he wrote about became famous. It -was in this way that the _Constitution’s_ work was done. The people were -wooed into enterprises of every sort, and most of them prospered. - -Mr. Grady’s work had attracted the attention of prominent men -everywhere, and in 1880 Cyrus W. Field, of New York, lent him $20,000 to -buy a fourth interest in the _Constitution_. Mr. Field has stated since -Mr. Grady’s death that he never had cause to regret the loan, as it was -promptly repaid and had been the means of enlarging Mr. Grady’s work. -Mr. Grady bought 250 shares, or $25,000 of the $100,000 of -_Constitution_ stock, from Messrs. Howell, Hemphill, and Finch, who had -previously purchased the interest of Albert Howell. The stock was then -equally owned by Captain E. P. Howell, Mr. W. A. Hemphill, Mr. N. P. T. -Finch, and Mr. Grady. The staff was then reorganized, with Captain -Howell as editor-in-chief, Mr. Grady, managing editor, and Mr. Finch and -Joel Chandler Harris as associate editors. Mr. Wallace P. Reed was added -in 1883, and Mr. Clark Howell, now managing editor, came on in 1884 as -night editor. When he was promoted to be assistant managing editor in -January, 1888, Mr. P. J. Moran, who had been with the _Constitution_ -since the suspension of the _Sun_ in the early seventies, succeeded to -the position of night editor. In 1886 Mr. Finch retired, and his -interest was shared by Messrs. E. P. Howell, Hemphill, Grady, and Clark -Howell, and two new proprietors, Messrs. S. M. Inman, of Atlanta, and -James Swann. The _Constitution_ has held on its staff at different times -many of the most brilliant writers in the country, among them Sam Small, -Henry Richardson, editor of the Macon _Telegraph_, Bill Arp, Betsey -Hamilton, T. DeWitt Talmage, and a number of others. The editor of the -Atlanta _Evening Journal_ graduated from the city editorship of the -_Constitution_ in 1887, and was succeeded by Mr. J. K. Ohl, who still -has charge of the city department. Mr. R. A. Hemphill had acquired some -stock and was in the business department. The _Constitution_ under the -management of Mr. W. J. Campbell has built up a large publishing -business and now does the printing for the State. The weekly circulation -is in charge of Mr. Edward White, who has an army of agents in all parts -of the Union. The western edition in the last month has grown to large -proportions. - -In 1883 the _Constitution_ had outgrown its three-story building on -Broad Street, and the company bought the present site on the corner of -Alabama and Forsyth, and began the erection of the new _Constitution_ -building. It was completed in August, 1884, at a cost of $60,000 -including the site, and the $30,000 perfecting press and other machinery -ran the whole cost of the plant up to $125,000. The site is the best for -its purpose in the city. In the heart of the town and on an eminence -above most other points, the editorial rooms on the fourth and fifth -floors overlook the city and the undulating country for miles around. On -the north, historic Kennesaw rises, a grim monument of valor, and the -white spires at its foot are visible to the naked eye. On the south, -Stone Mountain raises its granite dome fifteen miles away, and to the -northeast the eye reaches the first foothills of that bracing region of -the moonshiners where the Blue Ridge breaks up and makes a Switzerland -in Georgia. - -In November, 1884, the _Constitution_ christened its new building with -the first news of Cleveland’s election. The Legislature then in session -filled the _Constitution_ building at night, eagerly and -enthusiastically watching the returns. When at last one morning the -result was definitely known, a joyous party went from the _Constitution_ -building to the Capitol, where occurred the memorable scene when Mr. -Grady adjourned the Legislature. - -A great crowd had collected about the _Constitution_ office, and when at -eleven o’clock A.M. it was known beyond a doubt that Cleveland was -elected, a brass band was brought up, and Mr. Grady and Captain Howell -headed the procession. The march through town was hilarious and -exultant. The crowd carried a huge can of red paint which was lavishly -applied to sidewalks and prominent objects on the line of march. When -the procession passed up Marietta Street its enthusiasm led it into the -Capitol where the Legislature was in session. Leading the head of the -procession to the hall of the House of Representatives, Mr. Grady passed -by the door-keeper into the main aisle. Colonel Lucius Lamar, of -Pulaski, a man of imposing presence, was in the chair. His long hair -fell over his shoulders, and his bearing was magnificent. Advancing down -the aisle Mr. Grady paused and, in the stately formula of the -door-keeper, cried, with the most imposing and dramatic manner: - -“Mr. Speaker; A message from the American people.” - -Catching the spirit of the invasion, the dignified Speaker said -solemnly: - -“Let it be received.” - -With that Mr. Grady pressed up to the speaker’s chair, and quickly -wresting the gavel from his hand, cried in imposing and exultant tones: - -“In the name of God and the American people, I declare this House -adjourned to celebrate the election of Grover Cleveland, the first -Democratic President in twenty-four years.” - -At this there was a whirlwind of applause, and the House broke up with -the wildest enthusiasm. - -Mr. Grady often said that he and Oliver Cromwell were the only two men -who ever adjourned a legislative body in that style. - -From the occupation of the new building the _Constitution_ took on -tremendous growth. Mr. Grady had conceived an idea of making the -greatest weekly in America, and since 1881 that edition had grown -prodigiously. When it was enlarged to a twelve-page form in 1881, it had -only 7200 subscribers. Special contributors were engaged, special -correspondents were sent out, and a picket line of local agents was -thrown out all over the South, while sample copies were doing missionary -work in the northwest. The first year the circulation jumped to 20,000, -the next to 35,000, and when the _Constitution_ went into its new -building in 1884 the 50,000 mark was reached. In 1887 the weekly passed -100,000, receiving 20,000 subscribers in December. In December, 1889, -while Mr. Grady was in Boston, the paper broke the record with 20,000 -subscribers in one day. During the month 27,000 subscriptions were -received, and now the circulation is 146,000, of which 140,000 are -subscribers and about 6000 sample copies. - -The inspiring and reconstructive work of the _Constitution_ culminated -in the Cotton Exposition of 1881. The whole country was warmed by a wave -of prosperity in 1880, and the people of the South, invigorated and -enthused, entered heartily into the purposes of the Exposition. When -they came to see that wonderful collection of resources it was a -revelation and an inspiration to them. The ball was in motion, and -through the decade it has rolled with steadily increasing momentum. The -development of the South has already gone beyond the expectation of the -most sanguine, and already this region has a firm hold on iron and -cotton, the two greatest industries on the continent. - -Over all this helpful and inspiring work Captain Howell, the -editor-in-chief, had a watchful eye. His heart and his purse were -enlisted, and he backed up the vigorous work of his paper with earnest -personal work. He was concerned in the leading enterprises as organizer -and subscriber to the stock. In the flush of enthusiasm he was a -balance-wheel. He added the safe counsel of a mature business man to the -enthusiasm of his more youthful partner, and then backed him up with -money and prodigious energy. - -The Kimball House burned down one Sunday in August, 1883, and -immediately the _Constitution_ set to work to raise the immense sum -needed to replace the magnificent hotel. It had been the pride of -Atlanta. Conventions and distinguished visitors from all sections of the -country had been entertained there. It was Atlanta’s reception room, and -was a necessity. It must be replaced, and the _Constitution_ threw -itself in the breach. Captain Howell became president of the new Kimball -House Company, and bent himself to the enormous task of raising -$650,000. The whole town was enthused, and Mr. Kimball’s magic services -were again called into requisition. On the 12th of August, 1884, exactly -one year from the day the old building was burned, the directors of the -new Kimball House took tea on the fifth floor, and within six months the -magnificent structure was completed. At the grand banquet which -celebrated the event Captain Howell presided, and Mr. Grady was one of -the principal speakers. - -In all this development and upbuilding the other owners of the -_Constitution_ backed up its work with personal effort and financial -support. Mr. Hemphill and Mr. Inman are stockholders in almost -everything about Atlanta, and Mr. Swann, though now a resident of New -York, continues to invest his money largely in Atlanta enterprises. - -Perhaps the greatest service the _Constitution_ ever did for Atlanta and -the State was its work for the location of the Capitol here. The -Constitutional Convention of 1877 left the question of location with the -people and the election was held that fall. A vigorous campaign was -precipitated almost from the adjournment of the Convention. Atlanta was -in great straits. The Capitol had been removed there from Milledgeville -by the Republicans, and the rank odor of reconstruction times and of -negro and carpet-bag rule hung over the spot where their disgraceful -transactions had been enacted. The glorious memories of the past were -associated with Milledgeville, where the great men of the century had -been in training. Macon, Augusta, Savannah, and the press of Southern -Georgia sought to array these cherished associations against Atlanta, -the dashing new city that had the audacity to set new patterns and do -things in her own vigorous way. Something had to be done; enormous -obstacles had to be overcome, and Atlanta resolved to do the work. The -city council met and decided to spare no pains or expense to get the -Capitol. A general campaign committee was organized with Captain J. W. -English at its head, and the work from that center was begun. In -addition to this a prudential committee of three was appointed and given -a _carte blanche_ to carry the election, with unlimited means at its -command. On this committee were ex-Governor, now Senator, Joseph E. -Brown, Major Campbell Wallace and Captain E. P. Howell, editor of the -_Constitution_. The advanced age of the other two members made it -necessary for Captain Howell to take the heaviest part of the work upon -his shoulders and he worked night and day. Every county in the State, -except those about Macon and Milledgeville, was covered with men talking -for Atlanta, and the whole State was flooded with Atlanta literature. -Some of the most distinguished speakers in the State were on the -hustings, and the heaviest timber was on Atlanta’s side. It was a -campaign of hard work. Every voter, white and colored, was reached by -type and talk; and when the day came Atlanta won by 44,000 votes -majority. - -While the leading citizens of Atlanta, including the editors and owners -of the _Constitution_, were personally at work in the campaign, the -paper was the chief point of attack in a bitter newspaper war. Rancor -ran almost to bloodshed. Atlanta editors in those days were prepared to -talk it out or fight it out as their adversaries pleased. An editor’s -courage was in demand as constantly as his pen, and there was no milk -and water in editorials. The _Constitution_ held the fort for Atlanta, -and its flag flaunted serenely in the worst of the war. - -Then came a long fight for an appropriation to build a new Capitol. The -_Constitution_ steadily advocated it, and its influence was thrown into -the Legislature to back up Mr. Rice, the Atlanta member, who introduced -the bill. Finally when a million dollars had been appropriated, the -editor, Captain Howell, was put on the Capitol Commission to succeed the -late Mr. Crane as the member from Atlanta. - -Since then the _Constitution_ has been a power in political campaigns, -and its influence was triumphantly exerted in behalf of Governor -Colquitt in the famous Colquitt-Norwood campaign, when part of the -Democratic Convention split off and nominated Norwood after Colquitt had -been named by the majority. Mr. Grady took charge of Governor Colquitt’s -campaign, and to his efforts, more than to anything else, Colquitt’s -election was due. In the Bacon-Boynton campaign the _Constitution’s_ -influence was exerted for Governor Boynton, and finally for Governor -McDaniel, when Major Bacon had almost run away with the nomination. When -Governor Gordon dashed into the State in 1886 Mr. Grady took charge of -the campaign headquarters in Atlanta and directed the work for Gordon. -The General’s wonderful magnetism was backed up with such prodigious -work as the State had never known. The local influentials all over the -State were largely pledged to Major Bacon, and it was thought he had the -nomination in his pocket. Week by week, as the returns came in, the -Gordon column crept up on Bacon’s, and in the closing weeks the General -swept by him with a rush. - -The prohibition campaign of 1887 was one of the most remarkable episodes -in the history of Atlanta, and the division and tension among friends -and neighbors was strikingly shown by the position of the gentlemen who -owned the _Constitution_. Captain Howell, the editor in chief, was an -ardent anti, and Mr. Grady, the managing editor, was the leading -advocate of prohibition. Mr. Hemphill and Mr. Inman were for -prohibition, and other stockholders were against it. The campaign -committees on both sides loaded down the columns of the paper with -bristling communications, while the editor-in-chief and the managing -editor had thrown their whole strength into the campaign on opposite -sides. Both were on the hustings, and it so happened that both spoke the -same night, Captain Howell to an opera house full of antis, and Mr. -Grady to a big warehouse full of prohibitionists. The whole town was on -the _qui vive_; one-half the people were hurrahing for Howell and the -other were cheering for Grady. The editors drew more than the houses -would begin to hold, and their audiences were in a frenzy of delight. - -The speeches were the talk of the day, and for days afterward their -arguments were discussed and repeatedly mustered into service by the -other speakers. - -On the afternoon of the day they were to speak the _Evening Journal_ -contained the following spirited notice under the head of “Howell and -Grady”: - - Jack Spratt - Could eat no fat, - His wife could eat no lean, - Between them both - They cleared the cloth - And licked the platter clean. - - - The reproduction of this ancient rhyme is not intended as an - insinuation that Mr. Henry W. Grady, the silver-tongued - prohibition orator of to-night, has any of the attributes of - Jack Spratt, or that Colonel Evan P. Howell, the redoubtable - champion of the antis, has any of the peculiarities of Jack - Spratt’s conjugal associate. The idea sought to be conveyed is - that the fat and lean of prohibition will be energetically - attacked by these gentlemen to-night at the same hour from - opposite sides of the table. - - It goes without saying that between them both the platter will - be licked clean, and it is to be hoped that this hearty - prohibition meal will be thoroughly digested and assimilated to - Atlanta’s system, that growth in her every tissue will be the - result. - - It would be hard to select two more effective speakers and two - more entirely different. - - “What is Colonel Howell’s style of oratory?” said one newspaper - man to another. - - “Well,” said he, “you have heard Grady? you know how he speaks?” - - “Yes.” - - “Well, Grady makes you feel like you want to be an angel and - with the angels stand, and Howell makes you feel as if he were - the commander of an army, waving his sword and saying, ‘Follow - me,’ and you would follow him to the death.” - - Both of these speakers will raise enthusiasm at the start. As - Grady ascends the platform the band will play “Dixie” and the - audience will be almost in a frenzy of delight. As Colonel - Howard comes forward the band will be likely to play the - “Marsellaise Hymn,”—some air that stirs the sterner nature—and - he will be received with thunders of applause. - - With infinite jest and with subtle humor Mr. Grady will lead his - audience by the still waters where pleasant pastures lie; and - there he will “take the wings of the morning and fly to the - uttermost parts of the sea.” - - Howell will march his audience, like an army, through flood and - fire and fell; he will cross the sea, like a Norseman, to - conquer Britain. In Grady’s flights you only hear the cherubim’s - wing; in Howell’s march the drum-beat never ceases. Grady’s - eloquence is like a cumulus cloud that rises invisible as mist - till it unfolds its white banners in the sky; Howell’s is like a - rushing mountain stream that tears every rock and crag from its - path, gathering volume as it goes. - - Mr. Howell will doubtless deal in statistics; Mr. Grady will - have figures, but they will not smell of the census. They will - take on the pleasing shape that induced one of his reporters to - plant a crop of Irish potatoes on a speculation. To-night - Atlanta will be treated to a hopeful view of prohibition by the - most eloquent optimist in the country. The contrast will be - drawn with all the ruggedness of a strong, blunt man. - - -The day after the election, when 1100 majority had been announced -against prohibition, Captain Howell and Mr. Grady printed characteristic -cards. Captain Howell, from the standpoint of victory, gave in a few -words his reasons for his course, and closed by saying: - - - A word about my partners. I have differed from them on this - question, and I know that they have been prompted by the same - consciousness of duty which caused me to so differ. I love Henry - Grady as a brother, and no one appreciates more highly than I - his noble and unselfish devotion to our city; no one knows - better than I his earnestness and faithful attachment to her - welfare. Mr. Hemphill and Mr. Inman are as true and tried - citizens as Atlanta has, and are among my warmest personal - friends. Nothing that has occurred during this campaign could - mar the relations existing between us. The only regret I have - about the campaign is that I found it necessary to differ with - them, but I am confident that they will now join hands with me - in carrying out the purposes (uniting the people) as expressed - above. - - -Mr. Grady declared his unshaken affection for his partner, and pledged -his aid to him in his purposes to unite Atlanta and keep the sale of -liquor within bounds. As for his own part in the campaign, he expresses -himself in these remarkable words: - - - When everything else I have said or done is forgotten, I want - the words I have spoken for prohibition in Atlanta to be - remembered. I am prouder of my share in the campaign that has - ended in its defeat than of my share in all other campaigns that - have ended in victory. I espoused its cause deliberately, and I - have worked for its success night and day, to the very best of - my ability. My only regret is that my ability was not greater. - - -This reunion of the owners of the _Constitution_ was the prompt example -which set a pattern for the community. Within a year from the close of -the bitterest campaign in Atlanta’s history, one in which many a house -and many a family was divided against itself, the acrimony had almost -entirely disappeared. The wounds of the campaign were healed and the -soreness of defeat had disappeared; Atlanta was re-united, and on every -side were signs of prosperity and good-will. In another twelvemonth she -had to enlarge her girth a quarter of a mile all round; nine hundred -houses were built, every one was filled, and there was a pressing demand -for more. The _Constitution_ turned from this struggle with its owners -more strongly cemented by personal friendship than ever before, and in -the closing weeks of 1889 the paper touched a higher mark of prosperity -than it had ever known. - -After Mr. Grady’s death the _Constitution_ pursued the even tenor of its -way. Saddened by that great calamity the late editor’s associates -realized that there was great work for them to do. The succession to the -management was as natural as the passing of one day into another. Mr. -Clark Howell, Jr., eldest son of the editor-in-chief, had been on the -paper six years, first as night editor and then as assistant managing -editor. In Mr. Grady’s absence he had been in charge, and in taking the -position of managing editor at twenty-six years of age, he assumed -duties and responsibilities that were not new to him. He was fortified -by an extensive personal acquaintance formed not only in his newspaper -experience, but in two terms of active service as a representative of -Fulton County in the Legislature, having been nominated for the first -term before he was twenty-one years of age. - -Mr. Howell won his spurs as a newspaper man before he was twenty. On -graduating from the University of Georgia in 1883 he went to the New -York _Times_ as an apprentice in its local department. It was Captain -Howell’s policy to throw his son on his own resources, and the moderate -allowance during college days, was almost entirely withdrawn when young -Clark went to New York. A young reporter working on twelve dollars a -week was sorely put to it to make ends meet in a great city like New -York. From the New York _Times_ city department Mr. Howell went to the -Philadelphia _Press_, assisting in the news editing department. It was -while he was in Philadelphia, with very little cash, that he seized an -opportunity to make some money and a good deal of reputation. Samuel J. -Tilden was being urged to allow the use of his name for the second -Presidential nomination. He had not said yea or nay, and the country was -anxiously awaiting his decision, for his consent would have settled the -question of Democratic leadership. Mr. Howell went to New York for the -_Constitution_, and his interview with Mr. Tilden was the first -announcement of the old statesman’s determination not to enter the -contest again. That night Mr. Howell telegraphed the news to two hundred -papers, and the interview with the sage of Gramercy Park was read on two -continents. The young journalist who had scored a scoop on all the -ambitious newspaper men of the country received flattering notices from -the press, besides the comforting addition of $400 to his almost -invisible cash. - -Mr. Howell then came on the _Constitution_ as night editor, and was -afterward promoted to the position of assistant managing editor. What -native ability and six years of training did for him was made manifest -very soon after he assumed his new responsibility. - -For days the letters and telegrams of condolence and tributes to Mr. -Grady filled the paper, and to that and the monument movement all other -matter was, for the time, made subordinate. When at last the burden of -the people’s grief had found full expression, the _Constitution_ turned -itself with renewed vigor to its work. Captain Howell was on deck, the -new managing editor plunged into every detail, and soon a general -improvement was the result; the _Constitution_ took on new life. Then -Mr. Howell turned on all his energies and put the magnificent machinery -at his disposal up to its full speed. The daily issues drew daily -commendations of their excellence from the press, and the first -twenty-four-page Sunday’s edition was pronounced by many the best the -_Constitution_ had ever issued. - -The people realized that the _Constitution_, though it had suffered a -great loss in Mr. Grady’s death, was still in strong hands, and from all -parts of its territory came renewed expressions of confidence and -sympathy. So the _Constitution_ continues its work, enlarging and -improving as it goes, ever looking to the future while it cherishes a -magnificent past which it could not and would not let die. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - LETTERS AND TELEGRAMS - - FROM - - DISTINGUISHED PERSONS. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - HON. CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW. - - ------- - -NEW YORK, Dec. 23.—The New England Society celebrated to-night its 84th -anniversary and the 469th of the landing of the Pilgrim Fathers with a -dinner. - -Mr. Depew spoke to the toast of “Unsolved Problems,” and in the course -of his remarks he referred to the death of Henry W. Grady. He said: - -“Thirty years ago, Robert Toombs, of Georgia, one of the ablest and most -brilliant defenders of slavery, said in his place in the United States -Senate that he would yet call the roll of his bondmen at the foot of -Bunker Hill monument. To-day his slaves are citizens and voters. Within -a few days a younger Georgian, possessed of equal genius, but imbued -with sentiments so leavened that the great Senator would have held him -an enemy to the State, was the guest of Boston. With a power of -presentation and a fervor of declaration worthy of the best days and -noblest efforts of eloquence, he stood beneath the shadow of Bunker Hill -and uttered opinions justifying the suppression of the negro vote, which -were hostile to the views of every man in his audience, and yet they -gave to his argument an eager and candid hearing, and to his oratory -unstinted and generous applause. It was triumphant of Puritan principles -and Puritan pluck. They know we know that no system of suffrage can -survive the intimidation of the voter or the falsification of the -courts. Public conscience, by the approval of fraud upon the ballot and -the intelligence of a community, will soon be indifferent to the -extensions of those methods by the present office-holders to continue in -power, and the arbitrary reversing of the will of the majority will end -in anarchy and despotism. - -“This is a burning question, not only in Georgia, but in New York. It is -that the government for the people shall be by the people. No matter how -grave the questions which absorb the people’s attention or engross their -time, the permanence of their solution rests upon a pure ballot. - -“The telegraph brings us this evening the announcement of the death of -Henry W. Grady, and we forget all differences of opinion and remember -only his chivalry, patriotism, and his genius. He was the leader of the -New South, and died in the great work of impressing its marvelous growth -and national inspirations upon the willing ears of the North. Upon this -platform, and before this audience, two years ago, he commanded the -attention of the country and won universal fame. His death, in the -meridian of his powers and the hopefulness of his mission, at a critical -period of the removal forever of all misunderstanding and differences -between all sections of the Republic, is a national calamity. New York -mingles her tears with those of his kindred, and offers to his memory a -tribute of her profoundest admiration.” - - - -------------- - - - EX-PRESIDENT CLEVELAND. - - ------- - - NEW YORK, _December 23, 1889_. - -MRS. HENRY W. GRADY: Accept the heartfelt sympathy of one who loved your -husband for what he was and for all that he had done for his people and -his country. Be assured that everywhere throughout the land warm hearts -mourn with you in your deep affliction and deplore the loss the nation -has sustained. - - GROVER CLEVELAND. - - - -------------- - - - - - HON. A. S. COLYAR. - - ------- - -NASHVILLE, TENN., _December 26, 1889_. - -MR. A. W. DAVIS, ATLANTA, GA.: - -_My Dear Sir_:—I feel as if, in coming to what I had hoped to be a -joyous occasion, I am coming to the house of mourning—the home of -sorrow. Since the tragic end of the young Irish patriot, death has not -more ruthlessly invaded the land of “shining marks” than when he the -other day came to your beautiful city—a city of happiness and “high -ways”—and, as if looking with remorseless purpose into the very secrets -of domestic felicity and popular affection—took up and carried away into -the land of the unseeable the idol of a happy home and of a great city. -Not only was Henry W. Grady the idol of his own city and State, but -without office and without estate, though young in years, he had -attained a maturity of both pen and heart which brought renown as an -American patriot far beyond what place or power can give. His death is a -national calamity. In times of peace, when much of the press and many of -the public men are inviting patronage and seeking favors in fanning the -passions born of a sectional issue, to see a truly national and brave -man, who, loving his own native section, can nevertheless glory in a -common country and a common destiny for all the American people—is to -the patriot philosopher, who divines the happiness of a reunited people, -the bright star of hope rising to dissipate the prejudices of the past -and light up the pathway to the coming millions. - -Unfortunately, oh, how much to be deplored! the passions of the sections -have been kept alive by the pen and tongue of the politician seeking -patronage and office. - -The young man of your city whose death all patriots mourn, put himself -on a higher plane—freed from passion and rising above his own ambition, -he gave tone and temper to a national sentiment, which might be uttered -in Boston or Atlanta with equal propriety and patriotism and from the -emotions of his patriotic heart, he spoke words which, while they were -full of the manhood of his own loved South, nevertheless warmed into a -generous sympathy the North man as well as the South man, and put -American citizenship so high that the young men of the country may, -without the sacrifice of local pride, ever aspire to reach it. - -As an example of Southern manhood, patriotic fervor, and a statesmanship -extending over the entire country and into the coming generations, all -sparkling with the scintillation of an intelligent courage that defied -alike the prejudices of the ignorant and the appeals of the demagogue, -he was the representative and leader of a sentiment in the South which -promised speedily a reforming of public sentiment north and south, a -turning from the shades of the past into the lighted avenues of the -future—these avenues opening to all alike without the sacrifice of -manhood or the domination of section. - -I repeat, his death is a calamity, and oh, how sad and mysterious! - -Truly, A. S. COLYAR. - - - -------------- - - - HON. MURAT HALSTEAD. - - ------- - - CINCINNATI, _December 24, 1889_. - -MRS. H. W. GRADY: - -I desire to inscribe my name among those who feel the public misfortune -of Mr. Grady’s death as a personal loss, and hope you may know how true -it is that there are no boundaries to sincere regrets and earnest -sympathies. - - MURAT HALSTEAD. - - - -------------- - - - HON. SAMUEL J. RANDALL. - - ------- - - HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, - - WASHINGTON, D. C., _December 24, 1889_. - -HON. E. P. HOWELL, ATLANTA, GA.: - -_My Dear Sir_:—I telegraphed briefly yesterday afternoon, immediately -upon hearing of the death of our dear friend. I do not know when I have -been more shocked than I have been at this great calamity, and I cannot -yet bring my mind to realize it. The ways of Providence are strange -indeed, but we should submit with Christian fortitude. - -So young a man, with so bright a future, and capable of so much benefit -to his State and country, it is hard indeed to part with. His great -object in life was to break down sectionalism and bring the South to her -full capabilities of development. But I have not the heart to write -more. - -Give Mrs. Randall’s love to Mrs. Grady and my kindest sympathy, and tell -her that as long as life lasts with us Mr. Grady’s hundred and more -kindnesses to both will never fade from our memory. - - SAMUEL J. RANDALL. - - - -------------- - - - MR. ANDREW CARNEGIE. - - ------- - - NEW YORK, _December 24, 1889_. - -CAPTAIN HOWELL: - -Only those who stood at Mr. Grady’s side as we did and heard him at -Boston can estimate the extent of the nation’s loss in his death. It -seemed reserved for him to perform a service to his country which no -other could perform so well. Mrs. Carnegie and I share your grief and -tender to his family profound sympathy. We send a wreath in your care -which please place upon the grave of the eloquent peacemaker between the -North and South. - - ANDREW CARNEGIE. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - MANY DISTINGUISHED CITIZENS. - - ------- - - SPRINGFIELD, MASS., _December 24, 1889_. - -THE HONORABLE, THE MAYOR: - -Springfield shares the sorrow of her sister city. The death of such a -man as Henry Woodfin Grady is a national loss. - - EDWARD S. BRADFORD, _Mayor_. - - ------- - - NEW YORK, _December 24, 1889_. - -TO MRS. HENRY GRADY: - -The New York Southern Society, profoundly affected by a sense of the -public loss sustained in the death of your distinguished husband, offer -you their heartfelt sympathy in the great affliction you have suffered. - - J. H. PARKER, _Vice-President_. - - ------- - - NEW YORK, _December 23, 1889_. - -GOVERNOR RUFUS B. BULLOCK: - -Your dispatch is received with sincere sorrow. Thousands of our citizens -recognized in Mr. Grady a man worthy of the highest respect and esteem, -and will regard his untimely death a national calamity. - - - -ALONZO B. CORNELL. - - ------- - - NEW YORK, _December 24, 1889_. - -EVAN HOWELL: - -Please give my earnest sympathy to Mrs. Grady. The profession has lost -one of its three or four foremost members, and the country a true -patriot. - - BALLARD SMITH. - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - ● Transcriber’s Notes: - ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. - ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. - ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only - when a predominant form was found in this book. - ○ Text that: - was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); - was in bold by is enclosed by “equal” signs (=bold=). - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS' LIFE OF -HENRY W. 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Grady including his writings and speeches, by Joel Chandler Harris</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Joel Chandler Harris' Life of Henry W. Grady including his writings and speeches</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: Joel Chandler Harris</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 26, 2022 [eBook #68178]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: David Edwards, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS' LIFE OF HENRY W. GRADY INCLUDING HIS WRITINGS AND SPEECHES ***</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/cover.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='c002'>HENRY W. GRADY</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div id='xxx' class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/frontis.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>ENGRAVED FROM PHOTOGRAPH BY C. W. MOTES.<br />H. W. Grady.</p> -</div> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c000' /> -</div> -<div> - <h1 class='c003'>JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS’<br /> <br /><span class='xsmall'>LIFE OF</span><br /> <br /><span class='c004'>HENRY W. GRADY</span><br /> <br /><span class='xsmall'>INCLUDING HIS</span><br /> <br /><span class='c005'>WRITINGS AND SPEECHES</span>.</h1> -</div> -<hr class='c006' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c007'> - <div><span class='c004'><span class="blackletter">A Memorial Volume</span></span></div> - <div class='c000'>COMPILED BY MR. HENRY W. GRADY’S CO-WORKERS ON</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='c008'>“<i>THE CONSTITUTION</i>,”</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xsmall'>AND EDITED BY</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='c008'>JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS</span></div> - <div class='c000'>(<i>UNCLE REMUS</i>).</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xsmall'>THIS MEMORIAL VOLUME IS SOLD ONLY BY SUBSCRIPTION, AND IN THE INTERESTS OF THE FAMILY AND MOTHER OF MR. GRADY.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c006' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c007'> - <div>NEW YORK:</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='c008'>CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY,</span></div> - <div class='c000'>104 & 106 <span class='sc'>Fourth Avenue</span>.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='sc'>Copyright</span>,</div> - <div>1890,</div> - <div>By MRS. HENRY W. GRADY.</div> - <div class='c009'><i>All rights reserved</i>.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c010'><span class='xsmall'>Press W. L. Mershon & Co.,</span></div> -<div class='c011'><span class='xsmall'>Rahway, N. J.</span></div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='xsmall'>LOOKING FORWARD TO THE REALIZATION OF THE LOFTY PURPOSE THAT GUIDED OUR</span></div> - <div class='c000'><i>MESSENGER OF PEACE</i>,</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xsmall'>AND TO THE SPLENDID CLIMAX OF HIS HOPES AND ASPIRATIONS,</span></div> - <div class='c000'>THIS MEMORIAL VOLUME</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xsmall'>OF THE LIFE AND SERVICES OF</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='c008'><b><span class="blackletter">Henry Woodfin Grady,</span></b></span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xsmall'>IS DEDICATED TO THE</span></div> - <div class='c000'>PEACE, UNITY AND FRATERNITY</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xsmall'>OF THE</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='xsmall'>NORTH AND SOUTH, AND TO THE PROGRESS AND PROSPERITY OF</span></div> - <div class='c000'><i>A RE-UNITED COUNTRY WITH ONE FLAG AND ONE DESTINY</i>.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_vii'>vii</span> - <h2 class='c012'>CONTENTS.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lh'> - -<table class='table0' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='86%' /> -<col width='13%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c014'> </td> - <td class='c015'><span class='xsmall'>PAGE</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>In Memoriam</span>—<i>Henry Watterson</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_5'>5</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Biographical Sketch</span>—<i>Joel Chandler Harris</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_9'>9</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Memorial Sketch</span>—<i>Marion Verdery</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_69'>69</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<h3 class='c016'>SPEECHES.</h3> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='86%' /> -<col width='13%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>The New South</span>—Delivered at the Banquet of the New England Club, New York, December 21, 1886,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_83'>83</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>The South and Her Problem</span>—At the Dallas, Texas, State Fair, October 26, 1887,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_94'>94</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>At the Augusta Exposition</span>—In November, 1887,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_121'>121</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Against Centralization</span>—Before the Society of the University of Virginia, June 25, 1889,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_142'>142</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>The Farmer and the Cities</span>—At Elberton, Georgia, in June, 1889,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_158'>158</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>At the Boston Banquet</span>—Before the Merchants’ Association, in December, 1889,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_180'>180</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Before the Bay State Club</span>—1889,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_199'>199</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<h3 class='c016'>WRITINGS.</h3> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='86%' /> -<col width='13%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Small Jane</span>”—The Story of a Little Heroine,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_211'>211</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Dobbs</span>—A Thumb-nail Sketch of a Martyr—A Blaze of Honesty—The Father of Incongruity—Five Dollars a Week—A Conscientious Debtor,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_220'>220</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>A Corner Lot</span>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_227'>227</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_viii'>viii</span><span class='sc'>The Atheistic Tide Sweeping over the Continent</span>—The threatened Destruction of the Simple Faith of the Fathers by the Vain Deceits of Modern Philosophers,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_230'>230</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>On the Ocean Wave</span>—An Amateur’s Experience on a Steamship—How Sea-Sickness Works—The Sights of the Sea—The Lovers and the Pilot—Some Conclusions not Jumped at</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_238'>238</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Two Men who have Thrilled the State</span>—An Accidental Meeting on the Street, in which Two Great Men are Recognized as the Types of Two Clashing Theories—Toombs’s Successes—Brown’s Judgment,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_245'>245</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>“Bob.” How an Old Man “Come Home”</span>—A Story Without a Moral, Picked out of a Busy Life,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_252'>252</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Cotton and its Kingdom</span>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_272'>272</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>In Plain Black and White</span>—A Reply to Mr. Cable,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_285'>285</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>The Little Boy in the Balcony</span>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_308'>308</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<h3 class='c016'>POEMS BY VARIOUS HANDS.</h3> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='86%' /> -<col width='13%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Grady</span>—<i>F. L. Stanton</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_313'>313</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Atlanta</span>—<i>Josephine Pollard</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_316'>316</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span>—<i>James Whitcombe Riley</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_317'>317</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>A Requiem in Memory of “Him That’s Awa’”</span>—<i>Montgomery M. Folsom</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_318'>318</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Henry Woodfin Grady</span>—<i>Henry O’Meara</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_320'>320</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span>—<i>Henry Jerome Stockard</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_322'>322</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Who Would Call Him Back</span>?—<i>Belle Eyre</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_323'>323</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span>—<i>G. W. Lyon</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_324'>324</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>What the Master Made</span>—<i>Mel. R. Colquitt</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_326'>326</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>In Atlanta, Christmas, 1889</span>—<i>Henry Clay Lukens</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_327'>327</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>In Memory of Henry Woodfin Grady</span>—<i>Lee Fairchild</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_328'>328</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>A Southern Christmas Day</span>—<i>N.C. Thompson</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_329'>329</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>In Memory of Henry W. Grady</span>—<i>Elizabeth J. Hereford</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_331'>331</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span>—<i>Mary E. Bryan</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_333'>333</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>The Old and the New</span>—<i>J. M. Gibson</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_334'>334</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_ix'>ix</span><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span>—<i>E. A. B., from the Boston Globe</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_336'>336</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>At Grady’s Grave</span>—<i>Charles W. Hubner</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_338'>338</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<h3 class='c016'>MEMORIAL MEETINGS.</h3> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='86%' /> -<col width='13%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>The Atlanta Memorial Meeting</span>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_345'>345</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Chi Phi Memorial,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_347'>347</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Hon. Patrick Walsh,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_350'>350</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Hon. B. H. Hill,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_353'>353</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Julius L. Brown,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_356'>356</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Hon. Albert Cox,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_362'>362</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Walter B. Hill,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_365'>365</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Judge Howard Van Epps,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_369'>369</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Prof. H. C. White,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_373'>373</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Hon. John Temple Graves,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_378'>378</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Governor Gordon,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_382'>382</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Memorial Meeting at Macon, Ga.</span>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_385'>385</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Resolutions,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_387'>387</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Alumni Resolutions,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_389'>389</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Mr. Richardson,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_385'>385</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Mr. Boifeuillet,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_391'>391</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Major Hanson,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_396'>396</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Judge Speer,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_398'>398</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Mr. Washington,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_406'>406</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Address of Mr. Patterson,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_409'>409</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<h3 class='c016'>PERSONAL TRIBUTES.</h3> -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='86%' /> -<col width='13%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Thoughts on H. W. Grady</span>—By <i>B. H. Samett</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_417'>417</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Sargent S. Prentiss and Henry W. Grady.</span> Similarity of Genius and Patriotism—By <i>Joseph F. Pon</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_421'>421</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='sc'>Sermon</span>—By <i>Dr. T. DeWitt Talmage</i>,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_428'>428</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<h3 class='c016'>TRIBUTES OF THE NORTHERN PRESS.</h3> -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='86%' /> -<col width='13%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>He was the Embodiment of the Spirit of the New South—<i>From the “New York World,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_443'>443</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_x'>x</span>A Thoroughly American Journalist—<i>From the “New York Herald,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_444'>444</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Loss to the Whole Country—<i>From the “New York Tribune,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_445'>445</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>What Henry W. Grady Represented—<i>From the “New York Commercial Advertiser,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_446'>446</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Far-sighted Statesman—<i>From the “New York Star,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_448'>448</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>An Apostle of the New Faith—<i>From the “New York Times,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_448'>448</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Foremost Leader—<i>From the “New York Christian Union,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_449'>449</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Glorious Mission—<i>From the “Albany, N.Y., Argus,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_450'>450</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>His Lofty Ideal—<i>From the “Philadelphia Press,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_452'>452</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>His Patriotism—<i>From the “Philadelphia Ledger,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_454'>454</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Oratory and the Press—<i>From the “Boston Advertiser,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_457'>457</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Lesson of Mr. Grady’s Life—<i>From the “Philadelphia Times,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_458'>458</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>His Loss a General Calamity—<i>From the “St. Louis Globe-Democrat,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_459'>459</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Saddest of Sequels—<i>From the “Manchester, N.H., Union,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_461'>461</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Life of Promise—<i>From the “Chicago Inter-Ocean,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_462'>462</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Electrified the Whole Country—<i>From the “Pittsburg Dispatch,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_464'>464</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Large Brain and a Large Heart—<i>From the “Elmira, N.Y., Advertiser,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_465'>465</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Model Citizen—<i>From the “Boston Globe,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_467'>467</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Loyal Unionist—<i>From the “Chicago Times,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_468'>468</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>His Work was Not in Vain—<i>From the “Cleveland, O., Plaindealer,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_468'>468</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Best Representative of the New South—<i>From the “Albany, N.Y., Journal,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_469'>469</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Lamentable Loss to the Country—<i>From the “Cincinnati Commercial Gazette,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_470'>470</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Sad Loss—<i>From the “Buffalo, N.Y., Express,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_471'>471</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Words of Virgin Gold—<i>From the “Oswego, N.Y., Palladium,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_473'>473</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Sad News—<i>From the “Boston Advertiser,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_475'>475</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Leader of Leaders—<i>From the “Philadelphia Times,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_477'>477</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xi'>xi</span>A Forceful Advocate—<i>From the “Springfield, Mass., Republican,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_479'>479</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>His Great Work—<i>From the “Boston Post,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_480'>480</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>New England’s Sorrow—<i>From the “Boston Herald,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_482'>482</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Noble Life Ended—<i>From the “Philadelphia Telegraph,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_484'>484</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Typical Southerner—<i>From the “Chicago Tribune,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_486'>486</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>His Name a Household Possession—<i>From the “Independence, Mo., Sentinel,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_487'>487</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Editor, Orator, Statesman, Patriot—<i>From the “Kansas City Globe,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_488'>488</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Southern Bereavement—<i>From the “Cincinnati Times-Star,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_490'>490</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Man Who will be Missed,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_491'>491</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>At the Beginning of a Great Career—<i>From the “Pittsburg Post,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_493'>493</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Peace-Makers—<i>From the “New York Churchman,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_494'>494</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>One of the Brightest—<i>From the “Seattle Press,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_495'>495</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The South’s Noble Son—<i>From the “Rockland, Me., Opinion,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_496'>496</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Brilliant and Gifted—<i>Dr. H. M. Field in “New York Evangelist,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_497'>497</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Death of Henry W. Grady—<i>John Boyle O’Reilly in the “Boston Pilot,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_499'>499</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<h3 class='c016'>TRIBUTES OF THE SOUTHERN PRESS.</h3> -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='86%' /> -<col width='13%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Noble Death—<i>From the “Jacksonville, Fla., Times-Union,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_505'>505</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>There Was None Greater—<i>From the “Birmingham, Mo., Chronicle,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_507'>507</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Great Leader Has Fallen—<i>From the “Raleigh, N.C., State Chronicle,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_509'>509</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>N.H.<i>From the “New Orleans Times-Democrat,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_514'>514</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Second to None—<i>From the “Louisville Courier-Journal,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_517'>517</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Loss to the South—<i>From the “Louisville Post,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_519'>519</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Death of Henry W. Grady,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_520'>520</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Universal Sorrow—<i>From the “Nashville American,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_522'>522</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xii'>xii</span>The Highest Place—<i>From the “Charleston News and Courier,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_524'>524</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Brilliant Career—<i>From the “Baltimore Sun,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_526'>526</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Public Calamity—<i>From the “Selma Times and Mail,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_528'>528</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Grief Tempers To-day’s Joy—<i>From the “Austin, Tex., Statesman,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_530'>530</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Henry Grady’s Death—<i>From the “Charleston Evening Sun,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_532'>532</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Two Dead Men—<i>From the “Greenville, N.C., News,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_533'>533</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Grady’s Renown—<i>From the “Birmingham News,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_535'>535</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Henry W. Grady—<i>From the “Augusta Chronicle,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_537'>537</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>True and Loyal—<i>From the “Athens Banner,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_543'>543</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Mr. Grady’s Death—<i>From the “Savannah Times,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_544'>544</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Great Loss to Georgia—<i>From the “Columbia Enquirer-Sun,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_545'>545</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Man Eloquent—<i>From the “Rome Tribune,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_547'>547</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Death of Henry W. Grady—<i>From the “Savannah News,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_549'>549</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Henry W. Grady Dead—<i>From the “Albany News and Advertiser,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_551'>551</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Stilled is the Eloquent Tongue—<i>From the “Brunswick Times,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_553'>553</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Shining Career—<i>From the “Macon Telegraph,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_554'>554</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Greatest Calamity—<i>From the “Augusta News,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_557'>557</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>No Ordinary Grief—<i>From the “Columbus Ledger,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_559'>559</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Place Hard to Fill—<i>From the “Griffin News,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_559'>559</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>“Just Human”—<i>From the “Thomasville Enterprise,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_560'>560</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Georgia Weeps—<i>From the “Union News,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_561'>561</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Grand Mission—<i>From the “West Point Press,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_563'>563</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The South Loved Him—<i>From the “Darien Timber Gazette,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_564'>564</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>No Sadder News—<i>From the “Marietta Journal,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_565'>565</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Georgia’s Noble Son—<i>From the “Madison Advertiser,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_566'>566</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Death of Henry Grady—<i>From the “Hawkinsville Dispatch,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_569'>569</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Measureless Sorrow—<i>From the “Lagrange Reporter,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_572'>572</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Grady’s Death—<i>From the “Oglethorpe Echo,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_573'>573</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>He Loved his Country—<i>From the “Cuthbert Liberal,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_574'>574</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Resplendent Record—<i>From the “Madison Madisonian,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_575'>575</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'><span class='pageno' id='Page_xiii'>xiii</span>Dedicated to Humanity—<i>From the “Sandersville Herald and Georgian,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_576'>576</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The South Laments—<i>From the “Middle Georgia Progress,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_578'>578</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>His Career—<i>From the “Dalton Citizen,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_579'>579</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Our Fallen Hero—<i>From the “Hartwell Sun,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_581'>581</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Deathless Name—<i>From the “Gainesville Eagle,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_582'>582</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A Great Soul—<i>From the “Baxley Banner,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_583'>583</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>In Memoriam—<i>From the “Henry Co. Times,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_585'>585</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>A People Mourn—<i>From the “Warrenton Clipper,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_587'>587</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Henry W. Grady is No More—<i>From the “Valdosta Times,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_589'>589</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>“Maybe his Work is Finished”—<i>From the “Dalton Argus,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_590'>590</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>He Never Offended—<i>From the “Washington Chronicle,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_592'>592</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The South in Mourning—<i>From the “Elberton Star,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_593'>593</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Stricken at its Zenith—<i>From the “Greenesboro Herald and Journal,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_594'>594</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>The Southland Mourns—<i>From the “Griffin Morning Call,”</i></td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_596'>596</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>THE “CONSTITUTION” AND ITS WORK,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_601'>601</a></td> - </tr> -</table> -<h3 class='c016'>LETTERS AND TELEGRAMS FROM DISTINGUISHED PERSONS.</h3> -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='86%' /> -<col width='13%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Hon. Chauncey M. Depew,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_623'>623</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Ex-President Cleveland,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_624'>624</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Hon. A. S. Colyar,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_625'>625</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Hon. Murat Halstead,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_626'>626</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Hon. Samuel J. Randall,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_627'>627</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Mr. Andrew Carnegie,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_627'>627</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Hon. Edward S. Bradford,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_628'>628</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Mr. J. H. Parker,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_628'>628</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Hon. Alonzo B. Cornell,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_628'>628</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c014'>Mr. Ballard Smith,</td> - <td class='c015'><a href='#Page_628'>628</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span> - <h2 class='c012'>IN MEMORIAM.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>IT is within the bounds of entire accuracy to say that -the death of no man ever created a deeper and more -universal sorrow than that which responded to the announcement -that <span class='sc'>Henry Woodfin Grady</span> had paid his -final debt of nature, and was gone to his last account. The -sense of grief and regret attained the dignity of a national -bereavement, and was at one and the same time both public -and personal. The young and gifted Georgian had -made a great impression upon his country and his time; -blending an individuality, picturesque, strong and attractive, -and an eloquence as rarely solid as it was rhetorically -fine, into a character of the first order of eminence and -brilliancy. In every section of the Union, the people felt -that a noble nature and a splendid intellect had been subtracted -from the nation’s stock of wisdom and virtue. This -feeling was intensified the nearer it approached the region -where he was best known and honored: but it reached the -farthest limits of the land, and was expressed by all classes -and parties with an homage equally ungrudging and sincere.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In Georgia, and throughout the Southern States, it rose -to a lamentation. He was, indeed, the hope and expectancy -of the young South, the one publicist of the New South, -who, inheriting the spirit of the old, yet had realized the -present, and looked into the future, with the eyes of a -statesman and the heart of a patriot. His own future was -fully assured. He had made his place; had won his -spurs; and he possessed the qualities, not merely to hold -them, but greatly to magnify their importance. That he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>should be cut down upon the threshold of a career, for -whose magnificent development and broad usefulness all -was prepared, seemed a cruel dispensation of Providence -and aroused a heart-breaking sentiment far beyond the -bounds compassed by Mr. Grady’s personality.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Of the details of his life, and of his life-work, others -have spoken in the amplest terms. I shall, in this place, -content myself with placing on the record my own remembrance -and estimate of the man as he was known to me. -Mr. Grady became a writer for the press when but little -more than a boy, and during the darkest days of the Reconstruction -period. There was in those days but a single -political issue for the South. Our hand was in the lion’s -mouth, and we could do nothing, hope for nothing, until -we got it out. The young Georgian was ardent, impetuous, -the son of a father slain in battle, the offspring of a -section, the child of a province; yet he rose to the situation -with uncommon faculties of courage and perception; -caught the spirit of the struggle against reaction with perfect -reach; and threw himself into the liberal and progressive -movements of the time with the genius of a man born -for both oratory and affairs. At first, his sphere of work -was confined to the newspapers of the South. But, not -unreasonably or unnaturally, he wished a wider field of -duty, and went East, carrying letters in which he was commended -in terms which might have seemed extravagant -then, but which he more than vindicated. His final settlement -in the capital of his native State, and in a position -where he could speak directly and responsibly, gave him -the opportunity he had sought to make a name and fame -for himself, and an audience of his own. Here he carried -the policy with which he had early identified himself to -its finest conclusions; coming at once to the front as a -champion of a free South and a united country, second to -none in efficiency, equaled by none in eloquence.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was eager and aspiring, and, in the heedlessness of -youth, with its aggressive ambitions, may not have been at -all times discriminating and considerate in the objects of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>his attacks; but he was generous to a fault, and, as he -advanced upon the highway, he broadened with it and to -it, and, if he had lived, would have realized the fullest -measure of his own promise and the hopes of his friends. -The scales of error, when error he felt he had committed, -were fast falling from his eyes, and he was frank to own -his changed, or changing, view. The vista of the way -ahead was opening before him with its far perspective clear -to his mental sight. He had just delivered an utterance of -exceeding weight and value, winning universal applause, -and was coming home to be welcomed by his people with -open arms, when the Messenger of Death summoned him -to his God. The tidings of the fatal termination of his -disorder, so startling in their suddenness and unexpectedness, -added to the last scene of all a feature of dramatic -interest.</p> - -<p class='c018'>For my own part, I can truly say that I was from the -first and always proud of him, hailed him as a young disciple -who had surpassed his elders in learning and power, -recognized in him a master voice and soul, followed his -career with admiring interest, and recorded his triumphs -with ever-increasing sympathy and appreciation. We had -broken a lance or two between us; but there had been no -lick below the belt, and no hurt which was other than skin-deep, -and during considerably more than a year before his -death a most cordial and unreserved correspondence had -passed between us. The telegram which brought the fatal -news was a grievous shock to me, for it told me that I had -lost a good friend, and the cause of truth a great advocate. -It is with a melancholy satisfaction that I indite these -lines, thankful for the opportunity afforded me to do so by -the kindness of his associates and family. Such spirits -are not of a generation, but of an epoch; and it will be -long before the South will find one to take the place made -conspicuously vacant by his absence.</p> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>Henry Watterson</span>.</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Louisville</span>, <i>February 9, 1890</i>.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div id='p008' class='figcenter id003'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span> -<img src='images/p008.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>THE HOME OF GRADY’S BOYHOOD, ATHENS.</p> -</div> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span> - <h2 class='c012'>BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH<br /><span class='xsmall'>OF</span><br />HENRY W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div><span class='sc'>By Joel Chandler Harris.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c019' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c020'>ORDINARILY, it is not a difficult matter to write a -biographical sketch. Here are the dates, one in -faded ink in an old Bible, the other glistening under the -morning sun, or the evening stars, on the cold gravestone. -Here is the business, the occupation, the profession, success -or failure—a little scrap of paper here and there, and -beyond and above everything, the fact of death; of death -that, in a pitiful way, becomes as perfunctory as any other -fact or event. Ordinarily, there is no difficulty in grouping -these things, throwing in a word of eulogy here and there, -and sympathizing in a formal way with the friends and -relatives and the community in general.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But to give adequate shape to even the slightest sketch -of the unique personality and the phenomenal career of -Henry Woodfin Grady, who died, as it were, but yesterday, -is well-nigh impossible; for here was a life that has no -parallel in our history, productive as our institutions have -been of individuality. A great many Americans have -achieved fame in their chosen professions,—have won -distinction and commanded the popular approval, but here -is a career which is so unusual as to have no precedent. -In recalling to mind the names of those who have been -most conspicuously successful in touching the popular -heart, one fact invariably presents itself—the fact of office. -It is not, perhaps, an American fact peculiarly, but it seems -to be so, since the proud and the humble, the great and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>small, all seem willing to surrender to its influence. It is -the natural order of things that an American who is ambitious—who -is willing, as the phrase goes, to serve the -people (and it is a pretty as well as a popular phrase)—should -have an eye on some official position, more or less -important, which he would be willing to accept even at a -sacrifice if necessary. This is the American plan, and it -has been so sanctified by history and custom that the -modern reformers, who propose to apply a test of fitness to -the office-seekers, are hooted at as Pharisees. After our -long and promiscuous career of office-seeking and office-holding, -a test of fitness seems to be a monarchical invention -which has for its purpose the destruction of our republican -institutions.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is true that some of the purest and best men in our -history have held office, and have sought it, and this fact -gives additional emphasis to one feature of Henry Grady’s -career. He never sought office, and he was prompt -to refuse it whenever it was brought within his reach. On -one occasion a tremendous effort was made to induce him -to become a candidate for Congress in the Atlanta district. -The most prominent people in the district urged him, his -friends implored him, and a petition largely signed was -presented to him. Never before in Georgia has a citizen -been formally petitioned by so large a number of his fellow-citizens -to accept so important an office. Mr. Grady -regarded the petition with great curiosity. He turned it -over in his mind and played with it in a certain boyish and -impulsive way that belonged to everything he did and that -was one of the most charming elements of his character. -His response to the petition is worth giving here. He was, -as he said, strongly tempted to improve a most flattering -opportunity. He then goes on to read a lesson to the -young men of the South that is still timely, though it was -written in 1882. He says:</p> - -<p class='c021'>When I was eighteen years of age, I adopted journalism as my profession. -After thirteen years of service, in which I have had various -fortunes, I can say that I have never seen a day when I regretted my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>choice. On the contrary, I have seen the field of journalism so -enlarged, its possibilities so widened, and its influence so extended, that -I have come to believe earnestly that no man, no matter what his calling, -his elevation, or his opportunity, can equal in dignity, honor and -usefulness the journalist who comprehends his position, fairly -measures his duties, and gives himself entirely and unselfishly to his -work. But journalism is a jealous profession, and demands the fullest -allegiance of those who seek its honors or emoluments. Least of all -things can it be made the aid of the demagogue, or the handmaid of -the politician. The man who uses his journal to subserve his political -ambition, or writes with a sinister or personal purpose, soon loses his -power, and had best abandon a profession he has betrayed. Within -my memory there are frequent and striking examples of men who have -sacrificed the one profession, only to be sacrificed in the other. History -has not recorded the name of a single man who has been great enough -to succeed in both. Therefore, devoted as I am to my profession, -believing as I do that there is more of honor and usefulness for me -along its way than in another path, and that my duty is clear and -unmistakable, I am constrained to reaffirm in my own mind and to -declare to you the resolution I made when I entered journalism, -namely, that as long as I remain in its ranks I will never become a candidate -for any political office, or draw a dollar from any public treasury. -This rule I have never broken, and I hope I never shall. As a matter -of course, every young man of health and spirit must have ambition, -I think it has been the curse of the South that our young men have -considered little else than political preferment worthy of an ambitious -thought. There is a fascination about the applause of the hustings -that is hard to withstand. Really, there is no career that brings so -much of unhappiness and discontent—so much of subservience, sacrifice, -and uncertainty as that of the politician. Never did the South -offer so little to her young men in the direction of politics as she does -at present. Never did she offer so much in other directions. As for -me, my ambition is a simple one. I shall be satisfied with the labors -of my life if, when those labors are over, my son, looking abroad upon -a better and grander Georgia—a Georgia that has filled the destiny God -intended her for—when her towns and cities are hives of industry, and -her country-side the exhaustless fields from which their stores are -drawn—when every stream dances on its way to the music of spindles, -and every forest echoes back the roar of the passing train—when her -valleys smile with abundant harvests, and from her hillsides come the -tinkling of bells as her herds and flocks go forth from their folds—when -more than two million people proclaim her perfect independence, -and bless her with their love—I shall be more than content, I say, if -my son, looking upon such scenes as these, can stand up and say:</p> - -<p class='c022'><span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>“My father bore a part in this work, and his name lives in the -memory of this people.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>While I am forced, therefore, to decline to allow the use of my -name as you request, I cannot dismiss your testimonial, unprecedented, -I believe, in its character and compass, without renewing my thanks -for the generous motives that inspired it. Life can bring me no -sweeter satisfaction than comes from this expression of confidence and -esteem from the people with whom I live, and among whom I expect -to die. You have been pleased to commend the work I may have done -for the old State we love so well. Rest assured that you have to-day -repaid me amply for the past, and have strengthened me for whatever -duty may lie ahead.</p> - -<p class='c023'>Brief as it is, this is a complete summary of Mr. -Grady’s purpose so far as politics were concerned. It is -the key-note of his career. He was ambitious—he was fired -with that “noble discontent,” born of genius, that spurs -men to action, but he lacked the selfishness that leads to -office-seeking. It is not to be supposed, however, that he -scorned politics. He had unbounded faith in the end and -aim of certain principles of government, and he had unlimited -confidence in the honesty and justice of the people -and in the destiny of the American Union—in the future -of the Republic.</p> - -<p class='c018'>What was the secret of his popularity? By what methods -did he win the affections of people who never saw his -face or heard his voice? His aversion to office was not -generally known—indeed, men who regarded him in the -light of rivalry, and who had access to publications neither -friendly nor appreciative, had advertised to the contrary. -By them it was hinted that he was continually seeking -office and employing for that purpose all the secret arts of -the demagogue. Yet, in the face of these sinister intimations, -he died the best beloved and the most deeply -lamented man that Georgia has ever produced, and, to crown -it all, he died a private citizen, sacrificing his life in behalf -of a purpose that was neither personal nor sectional, but -grandly national in its aims.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the last intimate conversation he had with the writer -of this, Mr. Grady regretted that there were people in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>Georgia who misunderstood his motives and intentions. -We were on the train going from Macon to Eatonton, where -he was to speak.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I am going to Eatonton solely because you seem to -have your heart set on it,” he said. “There are people -who will say that I am making a campaign in my own -behalf, and you will hear it hinted that I am going about -the State drumming up popularity for the purpose of running -for some office.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The idea seemed to oppress him, and though he never -bore malice against a human being, he was keenly hurt at -any interpretation of his motives that included selfishness -or self-seeking among them. In this way, he was often -deeply wounded by men who ought to have held up his -hands.</p> - -<p class='c018'>When he died, those who had wronged him, perhaps -unintentionally, by attributing to him a selfish ambition -that he never had, were among the first to do justice to his -motives. Their haste in this matter (there are two instances -in my mind) has led me to believe that their instinct at -the last was superior to their judgment. I have recently -read again nearly all the political editorials contributed to -the <i>Constitution</i> by Mr. Grady during the last half-dozen -years. Taken together, they make a remarkable showing. -They manifest an extraordinary growth, not in -style or expression—for all the graces of composition -were fully developed in Mr. Grady’s earliest -writings—but in lofty aim, in the high and patriotic purpose -that is to be found at its culmination in his Boston -speech. I mention the Boston speech because it is the last -serious effort he made. Reference might just as well have -been made to the New England speech, or to the Elberton -speech, or to the little speech he delivered at Eatonton, -and which was never reported. In each and all of these -there is to be found the qualities that are greater than literary -nimbleness or rhetorical fluency—the qualities that -kindle the fires of patriotism and revive and restore the -love of country.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>In his Eatonton speech, Mr. Grady was particularly -happy in his references to a restored Union and a common -country, and his earnestness and his eloquence were as -conscientious there as if he were speaking to the largest -and most distinguished audience in the world, and as if his -address were to be printed in all the newspapers of the -land. I am dwelling on these things in order to show that -there was nothing affected or perfunctory in Mr. Grady’s -attitude. He had political enemies in the State—men who, -at some turn in their career, had felt the touch and influence -of his hand, or thought they did—and these men were -always ready, through their small organs and mouthpieces, -to belittle his efforts and to dash their stale small beer -across the path of this prophet of the New South, who -strove to impress his people with his own brightness and -to lead them into the sunshine that warmed his own life -and made it beautiful. Perhaps these things should not -be mentioned in a sketch that can only be general in its -nature; and yet they afford a key to Mr. Grady’s character; -they supply the means of getting an intimate glimpse -of his motives. That the thoughtless and ill-tempered -criticisms of his contemporaries wounded him is beyond -question. They troubled him greatly, and he used to talk -about them to his co-workers with the utmost freedom. -But they never made him malicious. He always had some -excuse to offer for those who misinterpreted him, and no -attack, however bitter, was ever made on his motives, that -he could not find a reasonable excuse for in some genial -and graceful way.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The great point about this man was that he never bore -malice. His heart was too tender and his nature too generous. -The small jealousies, and rivalries, and envies that -appertain to life, and, indeed, are a definite part of it, -never touched him in the slightest degree. He was conscious -of the growth of his powers, and he watched their -development with the curiosity and enthusiasm of a boy, -but the egotism that is based on arrogance or self-esteem -he had no knowledge of. The consciousness of the purity -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>of his motives gave him strength and power in a direction -where most other public men are weak. This same consciousness -gave a breadth, an ardor, and an impulsiveness -to his actions and utterances that seem to be wholly lacking -in the lives of other public men who have won the -applause of the public. The secret of this it would be -difficult to define. When his companions in the office -insisted that it was his duty to prepare at least an outline -of his speeches so that the newspapers could have the -benefit of such a basis, the suggestion fretted him. His -speech at the annual banquet of the New England Society, -which created such a tremendous sensation, was an -impromptu effort from beginning to end. It was the creature -of the occasion. Fortunately, a reporter of the New York -<i>Tribune</i> was present, and he has preserved for us something -of the flavor and finish of the words which the young -Southerner uttered on his first introduction to a Northern -audience. The tremendous impression that he made, however, -has never been recorded. There was a faint echo of -it in the newspapers, a buzz and a stir in the hotel lobbies, -but all that was said was inadequate to explain why these -sons of New England, accustomed as they were to eloquence -of the rarer kind, as the volumes of their proceedings -show, rose to their feet and shouted themselves hoarse -over the simple and impromptu effort of this young -Georgian.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady attended the New England banquet for the -purpose of making a mere formal response to the toast of -“The South,” but, as he said afterwards, there was something -in the scene that was inspiring. Near him sat General -Tecumseh Sherman, who marched through Georgia -with fire and sword, and all around him were the fat and -jocund sons of New England who had prospered by the -results of the war while his own people had had the direst -poverty for their portion. “When I found myself on my -feet,” he said, describing the scene on his return, “every -nerve in my body was strung as tight as a fiddle-string, and -all tingling. I knew then that I had a message for that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>assemblage, and as soon as I opened my mouth it came -rushing out.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>That speech, as we all know, was an achievement in -its way. It stirred the whole country from one end to the -other, and made Mr. Grady famous. Invitations to speak -poured in upon him from all quarters, and he at last decided -to deliver an address at Dallas, Texas. His friends advised -him to prepare the speech in advance, especially as many of -the newspapers of the country would be glad to have proofs -of it to be used when it was delivered. He saw how essential -this would be, but the preparation of a speech in cold blood -(as he phrased it) was irksome to him, and failed to meet the -approval of his methods, which were as responsive to the -occasion as the report of the thunder-clap is to the lightning’s -flash. He knew that he could depend on these -methods in all emergencies and under all circumstances, -and he felt that only by depending on them could he do -himself justice before an audience. The one characteristic -of all his speeches, as natural to his mind as it was surprising -to the minds of others, was the ease and felicity -with which he seized on suggestions born of the moment -and growing out of his immediate surroundings. It might -be some incident occurring to the audience, some failure in -the programme, some remark of the speaker introducing -him, or some unlooked-for event; but, whatever it was, he -seized it and compelled it to do duty in pointing a beautiful -moral, or he made it the basis of that swift and genial -humor that was a feature not only of his speeches, but of -his daily life.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was prevailed on, however, to prepare his Dallas -speech in advance. It was put in type in the <i>Constitution</i> -office, carefully revised, and proof slips sent out to a number -of newspapers. Mr. Grady’s journey from Atlanta to -Dallas, which was undertaken in a special car, was in the -nature of an ovation. He was met at every station by large -crowds, and his appearance created an enthusiasm that is -indescribable. No such tribute as this has ever before been -paid, under any circumstances, to any private American -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>citizen, and it is to be doubted whether even any public -official, no matter how exalted his station, has ever been -greeted with such hearty and spontaneous enthusiasm. -His reception in Dallas was the culmination of the series -of ovations through which he had passed. Some sort of -programme had been arranged by a committee, but the -crowds trampled on this, and the affair took the shape of -an American hullaballoo, so to speak, and, as such, it was -greatly enjoyed by Mr. Grady.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Meanwhile, the programme that had been arranged for -the speech-making was fully carried out. The young editor -completely captured the vast crowd that had assembled -to hear him. This information had been promptly carried -to the <i>Constitution</i> office by private telegrams, and everything -was made ready for giving the speech to the public -the next morning; but during the afternoon this telegram -came:</p> - -<p class='c021'>“<i>Suppress speech: It has been entirely changed. -Notify other papers.</i>”</p> - -<p class='c023'>At the last moment, his mind full of the suggestions of -his surroundings, he felt that the prepared speech could -not be depended on, and he threw it away. It was a great -relief to him, he told me afterward, to be able to do this. -Whatever in the prepared speech seemed to be timely he -used, but he departed entirely from the line of it at every -point, and the address that the Texans heard was mainly -an impromptu one. It created immense enthusiasm, and -confirmed the promise of the speech before the New England -Society.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The speech before the University of Virginia was also -prepared beforehand, but Mr. Grady made a plaything of -the preparation before his audience. “I was never so thoroughly -convinced of Mr. Grady’s power,” said the Hon. -Guyton McLendon, of Thomasville, to the writer, “as -when I heard him deliver this speech.” Mr. McLendon had -accompanied him on his journey to Charlottesville. “We -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>spent a day in Washington,” said Mr. McLendon, recalling -the incidents of the trip. “The rest of the party rode -around the capital looking at the sights, but Mr. Grady, -myself, and one or two others remained in the car. While -we were waiting there, Mr. Grady read me the printed slips -of his speech, and I remember that it made a great impression -on me. I thought it was good enough for any occasion, -but Mr. Grady seemed to have his doubts about it. -He examined it critically two or three times, and made -some alterations. Finally he laid it away. When he did -come to deliver the speech, I was perhaps the most astonished -person you ever saw. I expected to hear again the -speech that had been read to me in the Pullman coach, but -I heard a vastly different and a vastly better one. He used -the old speech only where it was most timely and most -convenient. The incident of delivering the prize to a young -student who had won it on a literary exercise of some sort, -started Mr. Grady off in a new vein and on a new line, and -after that he used the printed speech merely to fill out with -here and there. It was wonderful how he could break -away from it and come back to it, fitting the old with the -new in a beautiful and harmonious mosaic. If anybody -had told me that the human mind was capable of such a -performance as this on the wing and in the air, so to speak, -I shouldn’t have believed it. To me it was a wonderful -manifestation of genius, and I knew then, for the first -time, that there was no limit to Mr. Grady’s power and -versatility as a speaker.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>In his speeches in the country towns of Georgia and -before the farmers, Mr. Grady made no pretense of preparation. -His private secretary, Mr. James R. Holliday, -caught and wrote out the pregnant paragraphs that go to -make up his Elberton speech, which was the skeleton and -outline on which he based his speeches to the farmers. -Each speech, as might be supposed, was a beautiful variation -of this rural theme to which he was wedded, but the -essential part of the Elberton speech was the bone and -marrow of all. I think there is no passage in our modern -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>literature equal in its effectiveness and pathos to his -picture of a Southern farmer’s home. It was a matter on -which his mind dwelt. There was that in his nature to -which both sun and soil appealed. The rain falling on a -fallow field, the sun shining on the bristling and waving -corn, and the gentle winds of heaven blowing over all—he -was never tired of talking of these, and his talk always -took the shape of a series of picturesque descriptions. He -appreciated their spiritual essence as well as their material -meaning, and he surrendered himself entirely to all the -wholesome suggestions that spring from the contemplation -of rural scenes.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I suppose it is true that all men—except those who -are brought in daily contact with the practical and prosy -side of it—have a longing for a country life. Mr. Grady’s -longing in that direction took the shape of a passion that -was none the less serious and earnest because he knew it -was altogether romantic. In the Spring of 1889, the matter -engaged his attention to such an extent, that he commissioned -a compositor in the <i>Constitution</i> office to purchase -a suburban farm. He planned it all out beforehand, and -knew just where the profits were to come in. His descriptions -of his imaginary farm were inimitable, and the -details, as he gave them out, were marked by the rare -humor with which he treated the most serious matters. -There was to be an old-fashioned spring in a clump of large -oak-trees on the place, meadows of orchard grass and clover, -through which mild-eyed Jerseys were to wander at -will, and in front of the house there was to be a barley -patch gloriously green, and a colt frolicking and capering -in it. The farm was of course a dream, but it was a very -beautiful one while it lasted, and he dwelt on it with an -earnestness that was quite engaging to those who enjoyed -his companionship. The farm was a dream, but he no -doubt got more enjoyment and profit out of it than a great -many prosy people get out of the farms that are real. -Insubstantial as it was, Mr. Grady’s farm served to relieve -the tension of a mind that was always busy with the larger -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>affairs of this busy and stirring age, and many a time when -he grew tired of the incessant demands made on his time -and patience he would close the door of his room with a -bang and instruct the office-boy to tell all callers that he -had “gone to his farm.” The fat cows that grazed there -lowed their welcome, the chickens cackled to see him come, -and the colt capered nimbly in the green expanse of barley—children -of his dreams all, but all grateful and restful -to a busy mind.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>II.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>In this hurriedly written sketch, which is thrown -together to meet the modern exigencies of publishing, the -round, and full, and complete biography cannot be looked -for. There is no time here for the selection and arrangement -in an orderly way of the details of this busy and -brilliant life. Under the circumstances, even the hand of -affection can only touch it here and there so swiftly and so -lightly that the random result must be inartistic and unsatisfactory. -It was at such moments as these—moments of -hurry and high-pressure—that Mr. Grady was at his best. -His hand was never surer,—the machinery of his mind was -never more responsive to the tremendous demands he made -on it,—than when the huge press of the <i>Constitution</i> was -waiting his orders; when the forms were waiting to be -closed, when the compositors were fretting and fuming for -copy, and when, perhaps, an express train was waiting ten -minutes over its time to carry the <i>Constitution</i> to its subscribers. -All his faculties were trained to meet emergencies; -and he was never happier than when meeting them, -whether in a political campaign, in conventions, in local -issues, or in the newspaper business as correspondent or -managing editor. Pressed by the emergency of his death, -which to me was paralyzing, and by the necessity of haste, -which, at this juncture, is confusing, these reminiscences -have taken on a disjointed shape sadly at variance with -the demands of literary art. Let me, therefore, somewhere -in the middle, begin at the beginning.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>Henry Woodfin Grady was born in Athens, Georgia, -on the 24th of April, 1850. As a little boy he was the -leader of all the little boys of his acquaintance—full of -that moral audacity that takes the lead in all innocent and -healthy sports. An old gentleman, whose name I have -forgotten, came into the <i>Constitution</i> editorial rooms -shortly after Mr. Grady delivered the New England banquet -speech, to say that he knew Henry when a boy. I -listened with interest, but the memory of what he said is -vague. I remember that his reminiscences had a touch of -enthusiasm, going to show that the little boy was attractive -enough to make a deep impression on his elders. He had, -even when a child, all those qualities that draw attention -and win approval. It is easy to believe that he was a somewhat -boisterous boy. Even after he had a family of his -own, and when he was supposed (as the phrase is) to have -settled down, he still remained a boy to all intents and -purposes. His vitality was inexhaustible, and his flow of -animal spirits unceasing. In all athletic sports and out-door -exercises he excelled while at school and college, and -it is probable that his record as a boxer, wrestler, sprinter, -and an all-around athlete is more voluminous than his -record for scholarship. To the very last, his enthusiasm -for these sports was, to his intimate friends, one of the -most interesting characteristics of this many-sided man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One of his characteristics as a boy, and it was a characteristic -that clung to him through all his life, was his -love and sympathy for the poor and lowly, for the destitute -and the forlorn. This was one of the problems of life -that he could never understand,—why, in the economy of -Providence, some human beings should be rich and happy, -and others poor and friendless. When a very little child -he began to try to solve the problem in his own way. It -was a small way, indeed, but if all who are fortunately -situated should make the same effort charity would cause -the whole world to smile, and Heaven could not possibly -withhold the rich promise of its blessings. From his earliest -childhood, Mr. Grady had a fondness for the negro -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>race. He was fond of the negroes because they were -dependent, his heart went out to them because he understood -and appreciated their position. When he was two -years old, he had a little negro boy named Isaac to wait on -him. He always called this negro “Brother Isaac,” and -he would cry bitterly, if any one told him that Isaac was not -his brother. As he grew older his interest in the negroes -and his fondness for them increased. Until he was eight -or nine years old he always called his mother “Dear -mother,” and when the weather was very cold, he had a -habit of waking in the night and saying: “Dear mother, -do you think the servants have enough cover? It’s so cold, -and I want them to be warm.” His first thought was -always for the destitute and the lowly—for those who were -dependent on him or on others. At home he always shared -his lunch with the negro children, and after the slaves were -freed, and were in such a destitute condition, scarcely a -week passed that some forlorn-looking negro boy did not -bring his mother a note something like this: “<span class='sc'>Dear -Mother</span>: Please give this child something to eat. He -looks so hungry. H. W. G.” It need not be said that no -one bearing credentials signed by this thoughtful and -unselfish boy was ever turned away hungry from the Grady -door. It may be said, too, that his love and sympathy for -the negroes was fully appreciated by that race. His -mother says that she never had a servant during all his -life that was not devoted to him, and never knew one to -be angry or impatient with him. He could never bear to -see any one angry or unhappy about him. As a child he -sought to heal the wounds of the sorrowing, and to the -last, though he was worried by the vast responsibilities he -had taken on his shoulders and disturbed by the thoughtless -demands made on his time and patience, he suffered more -from the sorrows of others than from any troubles of his -own. When he went to school, he carried the same qualities -of sympathy and unselfishness that had made him -charming as a child. If, among his school-mates, there -was to be found a poor or a delicate child, he took that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>child under his especial care, and no one was allowed to -trouble it in any way.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Shortly after he graduated at the State University, an -event occurred that probably decided Mr. Grady’s future -career. In an accidental way he went on one of the -annual excursions of the Georgia Press Association as the -correspondent of the <i>Constitution</i>. His letters describing -the incidents of the trip were written over the signature of -“King Hans.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>They were full of that racy humor that has since -become identified with a large part of Mr. Grady’s journalistic -work. They had a flavor of audacity about them, and -that sparkling suggestiveness that goes first by one name -and then another, but is chiefly known as individuality. -The letters created a sensation among the editors. There -was not much that was original or interesting in Georgia -journalism in that day and time. The State was in the -hands of the carpet-baggers, and the newspapers reflected -in a very large degree the gloom and the hopelessness of -that direful period. The editors abused the Republicans -in their editorial columns day after day, and made no -effort to enlarge their news service, or to increase the scope -of their duties or their influence. Journalism in Georgia, -in short, was in a rut, and there it was content to jog.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Though the “King Hans” letters were the production -of a boy, their humor, their aptness, their illuminating -power (so to say), their light touch, and their suggestiveness, -showed that a new star had arisen. They created a -lively diversion among the gloomy-minded editors for a -while, and then the procession moved sadly forward in the -old ruts. But the brief, fleeting, and humorous experience -that Mr. Grady had as the casual correspondent of the -<i>Constitution</i> decided him. Perhaps this was his bent -after all, and that what might be called a happy accident -was merely a fortunate incident that fate had arranged, for -to this beautiful and buoyant nature fate seemed to be -always kind. Into his short life it crowded its best and -dearest gifts. All manner of happiness was his—the happiness -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>of loving and of being beloved—the happiness of -doing good in directions that only the Recording Angel -could follow—and before he died Fame came and laid a -wreath of flowers at his feet. Fate or circumstance carried -him into journalism. His “King Hans” letters had -attracted attention to him, and it seemed natural that he -should follow this humorous experiment into a more serious -field.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He went to Rome not long afterwards, and became -editor of the Rome <i>Courier</i>. The <i>Courier</i> was the -oldest paper in the city, and therefore the most substantial. -It was, in fact, a fine piece of property. But the -town was a growing town, and the <i>Courier</i> had rivals, the -Rome <i>Daily</i>, if my memory serves me, and the Rome <i>Commercial</i>. -Just how long Mr. Grady edited the <i>Courier</i>, I -have no record of; but one fine morning, he thought he -discovered a “ring” of some sort in the village. I do not -know whether it was a political or a financial ring. We -have had so many of these rings in one shape or another -that I will not trust my memory to describe it; but it was -a ring, and probably one of the first that dared to engage -in business. Mr. Grady wrote a fine editorial denouncing -it, but when the article was submitted to the proprietor, -he made some objection. He probably thought that some -of his patrons would take offense at the strong language -Mr. Grady had used. After some conversation on the subject, -the proprietor of the <i>Courier</i> flatly objected to the -appearance of the editorial in his paper. Mr. Grady was -about eighteen years old then, with views and a little -money of his own. In the course of a few hours he had -bought out the two opposing papers, consolidated them, -and his editorial attack on the ring appeared the next -morning in the Rome <i>Daily Commercial</i>. It happened on -the same morning that the two papers, the <i>Courier</i> and the -<i>Daily Commercial</i>, both appeared with the name of Henry -W. Grady as editor. The ring, or whatever it was, was -smashed. Nobody heard anything more of it, and the -<i>Commercial</i> was greeted by its esteemed contemporaries as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>a most welcome addition to Georgia journalism. It was -bright and lively, and gave Rome a new vision of herself.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was left to the <i>Commercial</i> to discover that Rome was -a city set on the hills, and that she ought to have an advertising -torch in her hands. The <i>Commercial</i>, however, was -only an experiment. It was run, as Mr. Grady told me -long afterwards, as an amateur casual. He had money to -spend on it, and he gave it a long string to go on. Occasionally -he would fill it up with his bright fancies, and then -he would neglect it for days at a time, and it would then be -edited by the foreman. It was about this time that I met Mr. -Grady. We had had some correspondence. He was appreciative, -and whatever struck his fancy he had a quick -response for. Some foolish paragraph of mine had -appealed to his sense of humor, and he pursued the matter -with a sympathetic letter that made a lasting impression. -The result of that letter was that I went to Rome, pulled -him from his flying ponies, and had a most enjoyable visit. -From Rome we went to Lookout Mountain, and it is needless -to say that he was the life of the party. He was its -body, its spirit, and its essence. We found, in our journey, -a dissipated person who could play on the zither. Just -how important that person became, those who remember -Mr. Grady’s pranks can imagine. The man with the zither -took the shape of a minstrel, and in that guise he went -with us, always prepared to make music, which he had -often to do in response to Mr. Grady’s demands.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Rome, however, soon ceased to be large enough for the -young editor. Atlanta seemed to offer the widest field, -and he came here, and entered into partnership with Colonel -Robert A. Alston and Alex St. Clair-Abrams. It was -a queer partnership, but there was much that was congenial -about it. Colonel Alston was a typical South Carolinian, -and Abrams was a Creole. It would be difficult to get -together three more impulsive and enterprising partners. -Little attention was paid to the business office. The principal -idea was to print the best newspaper in the South, -and for a time this scheme was carried out in a magnificent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>way that could not last. Mr. Grady never bothered himself -about the finances, and the other editors were not -familiar with the details of business. The paper they published -attracted more attention from newspaper men than -it did from the public, and it was finally compelled to suspend. -Its good will—and it had more good will than capital—was -sold to the <i>Constitution</i>, which had been managed -in a more conservative style. It is an interesting fact, -however, that Mr. Grady’s experiments in the <i>Herald</i>, -which were failures, were successful when tried on the -<i>Constitution</i>, whose staff he joined when Captain Evan -P. Howell secured a controlling interest. And yet Mr. -Grady’s development as a newspaper man was not as -rapid as might be supposed. He was employed by the -<i>Constitution</i> as a reporter, and his work was intermittent.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One fact was fully developed by Mr. Grady’s early work -on the <i>Constitution</i>,—namely, that he was not fitted for -the routine work of a reporter. One day he would fill several -columns of the paper with his bright things, and then -for several days he would stand around in the sunshine -talking to his friends, and entertaining them with his racy -sayings. I have seen it stated in various shapes in books -and magazines that the art of conversation is dead. If it -was dead before Mr. Grady was born, it was left to him to -resurrect it. Charming as his pen was, it could bear no -reasonable comparison with his tongue. I am not alluding -here to his eloquence, but to his ordinary conversation. -When he had the incentive of sympathetic friends and -surroundings, he was the most fascinating talker I have -ever heard. General Toombs had large gifts in that -direction, but he bore no comparison in any respect to -Mr. Grady, whose mind was responsive to all suggestions -and to all subjects. The men who have made -large reputations as talkers have had the habit of selecting -their own subjects and treating them dogmatically. We -read of Coleridge buttonholing an acquaintance and talking -him to death on the street, and of Carlyle compelling -himself to be heard by sheer vociferousness. Mr. Grady -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>could have made the monologue as interesting as he did -his orations, but this was not his way. What he did was -to take up whatever commonplace subject was suggested, -and so charge it with his nimble wit and brilliant imagination -as to give it a new importance.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was natural, under the circumstances, that his home -in Atlanta should be the center of the social life of the city. -He kept open house, and, aided by his lovely wife and two -beautiful children, dispensed the most charming hospitality. -There was nothing more delightful than his home-life. -Whatever air or attitude he had to assume in business, at -home he was a rollicking and romping boy. He put aside all -dignity there, and his most distinguished guest was never -distinguished enough to put on the airs of formality that -are commonly supposed to be a part of social life. His -home was a typical one,—the center of his affections and -the fountain of all his joys—and he managed to make all -his friends feel what a sacred place it was. It was the -headquarters of all that is best and brightest in the social -and intellectual life of Atlanta, and many of the most distinguished -men of the country have enjoyed the dispensation -of his hospitality, which was simple and homelike, -having about it something of the flavor and ripeness of the -old Southern life.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In writing of the life and career of a man as busy in so -many directions as Mr. Grady, one finds it difficult to -pursue the ordinary methods of biographical writing. One -finds it necessary, in order to give a clear idea of his -methods, which were his own in all respects, to be continually -harking back to some earlier period of his career. I -have alluded to his distaste for the routine of reportorial -work. The daily grind—the treadmill of trivial affairs—was -not attractive to him; but when there was a sensation -in the air—when something of unusual importance was -happening or about to happen—he was in his element. His -energy at such times was phenomenal. He had the faculty -of grasping all the details of an event, and the imagination -to group them properly so as to give them their full force -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>and effect. The result of this is shown very clearly in his -telegrams to the New York <i>Herald</i> and the <i>Constitution</i> -from Florida during the disputed count going on there in -1876 and the early part of 1877. Mr. Tilden selected Senator -Joseph E. Brown, among other prominent Democrats, -to proceed to Florida, and look after the Democratic case -there. Mr. Grady went as the special correspondent of the -New York <i>Herald</i> and the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>, and -though he had for his competitors some of the most famous -special writers of the country, he easily led them all in the -brilliancy of his style, in the character of his work, and in -his knack of grouping together gossip and fact. He was -always proud of his work there; he was on his mettle, as -the saying is, and I think there is no question that, from a -journalist’s point of view, his letters and telegrams, covering -the history of what is known politically as the Florida -fraud, have no equal in the newspaper literature of the day. -There is no phase of that important case that his reports -do not cover, and they represent a vast amount of rapid -and accurate work—work in which the individuality of the -man is as prominent as his accuracy and impartiality. One -of the results of Mr. Grady’s visit to Florida, and his association -with the prominent politicians gathered there, was -to develop a confidence in his own powers and resources -that was exceedingly valuable to him when he came afterwards -to the management of the leading daily paper in the -South. He discovered that the men who had been successful -in business and in politics had no advantage over him -in any of the mental qualities and attributes that appertain -to success, and this discovery gave purpose and determination -to his ambition.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Another fruitful fact in his career, which he used -to dwell on with great pleasure, was his association while -in Florida with Senator Brown—an association that -amounted to intimacy. Mr. Grady always had a very -great admiration for Senator Brown, but in Florida he had -the opportunity of working side by side with the Senator -and of studying the methods by which he managed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>men and brought them within the circle of his powerful -influence. Mr. Grady often said that it was one of the -most instructive lessons of his life to observe the influence -which Senator Brown, feeble as he was in body, exerted on -men who were almost total strangers. The contest between -the politicians for the electoral vote of Florida was in the -nature of a still hunt, where prudence, judgment, skill, -and large knowledge of human nature were absolutely -essential. In such a contest as this, Senator Brown was -absolutely master of the situation, and Mr. Grady took -great delight in studying his methods, and in describing -them afterwards.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Busy as Mr. Grady was in Florida with the politicians -and with his newspaper correspondence, he nevertheless -found time to make an exhaustive study of the material -resources of the State, and the result of this appeared in -the columns of the <i>Constitution</i> at a later date in the shape -of a series of letters that attracted unusual attention -throughout the country. This subject, the material -resources of the South, and the development of the section, -was always a favorite one with Mr. Grady. He -touched it freely from every side and point of view, and -made a feature of it in his newspaper work. To his mind -there was something more practical in this direction than -in the heat and fury of partisan politics. Whatever would -aid the South in a material way, develop her resources and -add to her capital, population, and industries, found in -him not only a ready, but an enthusiastic and a tireless -champion. He took great interest in politics, too, and -often made his genius for the management of men and -issues felt in the affairs of the State; but the routine of -politics—the discussion that goes on, like Tennyson’s -brook, forever and forever—were of far less importance in -his mind than the practical development of the South. -This seemed to be the burthen of his speeches, as it was of -all his later writings. He never tired of this subject, and -he discussed it with a brilliancy, a fervor, a versatility, and -a fluency marvelous enough to have made the reputation of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>half a dozen men. Out of his contemplation of it grew the -lofty and patriotic purpose which drew attention to his -wonderful eloquence, and made him famous throughout -the country—the purpose to draw the two sections together -in closer bonds of union, fraternity, harmony, and good-will. -The real strength and symmetry of his career can -only be properly appreciated by those who take into consideration -the unselfishness with which he devoted himself -to this patriotic purpose. Instinctively the country seemed -to understand something of this, and it was this instinctive -understanding that caused him to be regarded with -affectionate interest and appreciation from one end of the -country to the other by people of all parties, classes, and -interests. It was this instinctive understanding that made -him at the close of his brief career one of the most conspicuous -Americans of modern times, and threw the whole -country into mourning at his death.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>III.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>When in 1880 Mr. Grady bought a fourth interest in the -<i>Constitution</i>, he gave up, for the most part, all outside -newspaper work, and proceeded to devote his time and -attention to his duties as managing editor, for which he -was peculiarly well fitted. His methods were entirely his -own. He borrowed from no one. Every movement he -made in the field of journalism was stamped with the seal -of his genius. He followed no precedent. He provided -for every emergency as it arose, and some of his strokes of -enterprise were as bold as they were startling. He had a -rapid faculty of organization. This was shown on one -occasion when he determined to print official reports of the -returns of the congressional election in the seventh Georgia -district. Great interest was felt in the result all over the -State. An independent candidate was running against the -Democratic nominee, and the campaign was one of the liveliest -ever had in Georgia. Yet it is a district that lies -in the mountains and winds around and over them. -Ordinarily, it was sometimes a fortnight and frequently a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>month before the waiting newspapers and the public knew -the official returns. Mr. Grady arranged for couriers with -relays of horses at all the remote precincts, and the majority -of them are remote from the lines of communication, and -his orders to these were to spare neither horse-flesh nor -money in getting the returns to the telegraph stations. At -important points, he had placed members of the <i>Constitution’s</i> -editorial and reportorial staff, who were to give the -night couriers the assistance and directions which their -interest and training would suggest. It was a tough piece -of work, but all the details and plans had been so perfectly -arranged that there was no miscarriage anywhere. One of -the couriers rode forty miles over the mountains, fording -rushing streams and galloping wildly over the rough roads. -It was a rough job, but he had been selected by Mr. Grady -especially for this piece of work; he was a tough man and -he had tough horses under him, and he reached the telegraph -station on time. This sort of thing was going on all -over the district, and the next morning the whole State -had the official returns. Other feats of modern newspaper -enterprise have been more costly and as successful, but -there is none that I can recall to mind showing a more -comprehensive grasp of the situation or betraying a more -daring spirit. It was a feat that appealed to the imagination, -and therefore on the Napoleonic order.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And yet it is a singular fact that all his early journalistic -ventures were in the nature of failures. The Rome -<i>Commercial</i>, which he edited before he had attained his -majority, was a bright paper, but not financially successful. -Mr. Grady did some remarkably bold and brilliant -work on the Atlanta <i>Daily Herald</i>, but it was expensive -work, too, and the <i>Herald</i> died for lack of funds. Mr. -Marion J. Verdery, in his admirable memorial of Mr. -Grady, prepared for the Southern Society of New York -(which I have taken the liberty of embodying in this volume) -alludes to these failures of Mr. Grady, and a great -many of his admirers have been mystified by them. I -think the explanation is very simple. Mr. Grady was a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>new and a surprising element in the field of journalism, and -his methods were beyond the comprehension of those who -had grown gray watching the dull and commonplace politicians -wielding their heavy pens as editors, and getting the -news accidentally, if at all. There are a great many people -in this world of ours—let us say the average people, in -order to be mathematically exact—who have to be educated -up to an appreciation of what is bright and beautiful, -or bold and interesting. Some of Mr. Grady’s methods -were new even in American journalism, and it is no -wonder that his dashing experiments with the <i>Daily Herald</i> -were failures, or that commonplace people regarded -them as crude and reckless manifestations of a purpose -and a desire to create a sensation. Moreover, it should be -borne in mind that when the <i>Daily Herald</i> was running -its special locomotives up and down the railroads of the -State, the field of journalism in Atlanta was exceedingly -narrow and provincial. The town had been rescued from -the village shape, but neither its population nor its progress -warranted the experiments on the <i>Herald</i>. They were -mistakes of time and place, but they were not mistakes of -conception and execution. They helped to educate and -enlighten the public, and to give that dull, clumsy, and -slow-moving body a taste of the spirit and purpose of -modern journalism. The public liked the taste that it got, -and smacked its lips over it and remembered it, and was -always ready after that to respond promptly to the efforts -of Mr. Grady to give it the work of his head and hands.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Bright and buoyant as he was, his early failures in -journalism dazed and mortified him, but they did not leave -him depressed. If he had his hours of depression and -gloom he reserved them for himself. Even when all his -resources had been exhausted, he was the same genial, -witty, and appreciative companion, the center of attraction -wherever he went. The year 1876 was the turning-point -in his career in more ways than one. In the fall of that -year, Captain Evan P. Howell bought a controlling interest -in the <i>Constitution</i>. The day after the purchase was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>made, Captain Howell met Mr. Grady, who was on his way -to the passenger station.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I was just hunting for you,” said Captain Howell. -“I want to have a talk with you.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Well, you’ll have to talk mighty fast,” said Mr. -Grady. “Atlanta’s either too big for me, or I am too big -for Atlanta.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>It turned out that the young editor, discomfited in -Atlanta, but not discouraged, was on his way to Augusta -to take charge of the <i>Constitutionalist</i> of that city. Captain -Howell offered him a position at once, which was -promptly accepted. There was no higgling or bargaining; -the two men were intimate friends; there was something -congenial in their humor, in their temperaments, and in a -certain fine audacity in political affairs that made the two -men invincible in Georgia politics from the day they began -working together. Before the train that was to bear Mr. -Grady to Augusta had steamed out of the station, he was -on his way to the <i>Constitution</i> office to enter on his duties, -and then and there practically began between the two men -a partnership as intimate in its relations of both friendship -and business as it was important on its bearings on the -wonderful success of the <i>Constitution</i> and on the local history -and politics of Georgia. It was an ideal partnership -in many respects, and covered almost every movement, -with one exception, that the two friends made. That -exception was the prohibition campaign in Atlanta, that -attracted such widespread attention throughout the country. -Mr. Grady represented the prohibitionists and Captain -Howell the anti-prohibitionists, and it was one of the -most vigorous and amusing campaigns the town has ever -witnessed. Each partner was the chief speaker of the side -he represented, and neither lost an opportunity to tell a -good-humored joke at the other’s expense. Thus, while -the campaign was an earnest one in every respect, and even -embittered to some small extent by the thoughtless utterances -of those who seem to believe that moral issues can -best be settled by a display of fanaticism, the tension was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>greatly relieved by the wit, the humor, the good nature -and the good sense which the two leaders injected into the -canvas.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The sentimental side of Mr. Grady’s character was more -largely and more practically developed than that of any -other person I have ever seen. In the great majority of -cases sentiment develops into a sentimentality that is sometimes -maudlin, sometimes officious, and frequently offensive. -In most people it develops as the weakest and least -attractive side of their character. It was the stronghold of -Mr. Grady’s nature. It enveloped his whole career, to use -Matthew Arnold’s phrase, in sweetness and light, and -made his life a real dispensation in behalf of the lives of -others. Wherever he found suffering and sorrow, no matter -how humble—wherever he found misery, no matter how -coarse and degraded, he struck hands with them then and -there, and wrapped them about and strengthened them -with his abundant sympathy. Until he could give them -relief in some shape, he became their partner, and a very -active and energetic partner he was. I have often thought -that his words of courage and cheer, always given with a -light and humorous touch to hide his own feelings, was -worth more than the rich man’s grudging gift. It was this -side of Mr. Grady’s nature that caused him to turn with -such readiness to the festivities of Christmas. He was a -great admirer of Charles Dickens, especially of that writer’s -Christmas literature. It was an ideal season with Mr. -Grady, and it presented itself to his mind less as a holiday -time than as an opportunity to make others happy—the -rich as well as the poor. He had a theory that the rich -who have become poor by accident or misfortune suffer the -stings of poverty more keenly than the poor who have -always been poor, for the reason that they are not qualified -to fight against conditions that are at once strange and -crushing. Several Christmases ago, I had the pleasure of -witnessing a little episode in which he illustrated his -theory to his own satisfaction as well as to mine.</p> - -<p class='c018'>On that particular Christmas eve, there was living in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>Atlanta an old gentleman who had at one time been one of -the leading citizens of the town. He had in fact been a -powerful influence in the politics of the State, but the war -swept away his possessions, and along with them all the -conditions and surroundings that had enabled him to maintain -himself comfortably. His misfortunes came on him -when he was too old to begin the struggle with life anew -with any reasonable hope of success. He gave way to a -disposition that had been only convivial in his better days -when he had hope and pride to sustain him, and he sank -lower until he had nearly reached the gutter.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I joined Mr. Grady as he left the office, and we walked -slowly down the street enjoying the kaleidoscopic view of -the ever-shifting, ever hurrying crowd as it swept along the -pavements. In all that restless and hastening throng there -seemed to be but one man bent on no message of enjoyment -or pleasure, and he was old and seedy-looking. He -was gazing about him in an absent-minded way. The -weather was not cold, but a disagreeable drizzle was falling.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Yonder is the Judge,” said Mr. Grady, pointing to -the seedy-looking old man. “Let’s go and see what he is -going to have for Christmas.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>I found out long afterwards that the old man had long -been a pensioner on Mr. Grady’s bounty, but there was -nothing to suggest this in the way in which the young -editor approached the Judge. His manner was the very -perfection of cordiality and consideration, though there -was just a touch of gentle humor in his bright eyes.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“It isn’t too early to wish you a merry Christmas, I -hope,” said Mr. Grady, shaking hands with the old man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“No, no,” replied the Judge, straightening himself up -with dignity; “not at all. The same to you, my boy.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Well,” remarked Mr. Grady lightly, “you ought to -be fixing up for it. I’m not as old as you are, and I’ve got -lots of stirring around and shopping to do if I have any fun -at home.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The eyes of the Judge sought the ground. “No. I -was—ah—just considering.” Then he looked up into the -laughing but sympathetic eyes of the boyish young fellow, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>and his dignity sensibly relaxed. “I was only—ah—Grady, -let me see you a moment.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The two walked to the edge of the pavement, and talked -together some little time. I did not overhear the conversation, -but learned afterwards that the Judge told Mr. -Grady that he had no provisions at home, and no money -to buy them with, and asked for a small loan.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I’ll do better than that,” said Mr. Grady. “I’ll go -with you and buy them myself. Come with us,” he remarked -to me with a quizzical smile. “The Judge here -has found a family in distress, and we are going to send -them something substantial for Christmas.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>We went to a grocery store near at hand, and I saw, -as we entered, that the Judge had not only recovered his -native dignity, but had added a little to suit the occasion. -I observed that his bearing was even haughty. Mr. Grady -had observed it, too, and the humor of the situation so -delighted him that he could hardly control the laughter in -his voice.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Now, Judge,” said Mr. Grady, as we approached the -counter, “we must be discreet as well as liberal. We must -get what you think this suffering family most needs. You -call off the articles, the clerk here will check them off, and -I will have them sent to the house.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The Judge leaned against the counter with a careless -dignity quite inimitable, and glanced at the well-filled -shelves.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Well,” said he, thrumming on a paper-box, and -smacking his lips thoughtfully, “we will put down first a -bottle of chow-chow pickles.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Why, of course,” exclaimed Mr. Grady, his face radiant -with mirth; “it is the very thing. What next?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Let me see,” said the Judge, closing his eyes reflectively—“two -tumblers of strawberry jelly, three pounds of -mince-meat, and two pounds of dates, if you have real -good ones, and—yes—two cans of deviled ham.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Every article the Judge ordered was something he had -been used to in his happier days. The whole episode was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>like a scene from one of Dickens’s novels, and I have never -seen Mr. Grady more delighted. He was delighted with -the humor of it, and appreciated in his own quaint and -charming way and to the fullest extent the pathos of it. -He dwelt on it then and afterwards, and often said that he -envied the broken-down old man the enjoyment of the luxuries -of which he had so long been deprived.</p> - -<p class='c018'>On a memorable Christmas day not many years after, -Mr. Grady stirred Atlanta to its very depths by his eloquent -pen, and brought the whole community to the -heights of charity and unselfishness on which he always -stood. He wrought the most unique manifestation of -prompt and thoughtful benevolence that is to be found -recorded in modern times. The day before Christmas was -bitter cold, and the night fell still colder, giving promise -of the coldest weather that had been felt in Georgia for -many years. The thermometer fell to zero, and it was difficult -for comfortably clad people to keep warm even by -the fires that plenty had provided, and it was certain that -there would be terrible suffering among the poor of the city. -The situation was one that appealed in the strongest manner -to Mr. Grady’s sympathies. It appealed, no doubt, to -the sympathies of all charitably-disposed people; but the -shame of modern charity is its lack of activity. People -are horrified when starving people are found near their -doors, when a poor woman wanders about the streets until -death comes to her relief; they seem to forget that it is -the duty of charity to act as well as to give. Mr. Grady -was a man of action. He did not wait for the organization -of a relief committee, and the meeting of prominent citizens -to devise ways and means for dispensing alms. He was -his own committee. His plans were instantly formed and -promptly carried out. The organization was complete the -moment he determined that the poor of Atlanta should not -suffer for lack of food, clothing, or fuel. He sent his -reporters out into the highways and byways, and into every -nook and corner of the city. He took one assignment for -himself, and went about through the cold from house to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>house. He had a consultation with the Mayor at midnight, -and cases of actual suffering were relieved then and there. -The next morning, which was Sunday, the columns of the -<i>Constitution</i> teemed with the results of the investigation -which Mr. Grady and his reporters had made. A stirring -appeal was made in the editorial columns for aid for the -poor—such an appeal as only Mr. Grady could make. The -plan of relief was carefully made out. The <i>Constitution</i> -was prepared to take charge of whatever the charitably -disposed might feel inclined to send to its office—and whatever -was sent should be sent early.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The effect of this appeal was astonishing—magical, in -fact. It seemed impossible to believe that any human -agency could bring about such a result. By eight o’clock -on Christmas morning—the day being Sunday—the street -in front of the <i>Constitution</i> office was jammed with wagons, -drays, and vehicles of all kinds, and the office itself was -transformed into a vast depot of supplies. The merchants -and business men had opened their stores as well as their -hearts, and the coal and wood dealers had given the keys -of their establishments into the gentle hands of charity. -Men who were not in business subscribed money, and this -rose into a considerable sum. When Mr. Grady arrived -on the scene, he gave a shout of delight, and cut up antics -as joyous as those of a schoolboy. Then he proceeded -to business. He had everything in his head, and he organized -his relief trains and put them in motion more -rapidly than any general ever did. By noon, there was -not a man, woman, or child, white or black, in the city -of Atlanta that lacked any of the necessaries of life, and -to such an extent had the hearts of the people been stirred -that a large reserve of stores was left over after everybody -had been supplied. It was the happiest Christmas day the -poor of Atlanta ever saw, and the happiest person of all -was Henry Grady.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is appropriate to his enjoyment of Christmas to give -here a beautiful editorial he wrote on Christmas day a year -before he was buried. It is a little prose poem that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>attracted attention all over the country. Mr. Grady -called it</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c025'> - <div>A PERFECT CHRISTMAS DAY.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c022'>No man or woman now living will see again such a Christmas day -as the one which closed yesterday, when the dying sun piled the -western skies with gold and purple.</p> - -<p class='c022'>A winter day it was, shot to the core with sunshine. It was enchanting -to walk abroad in its prodigal beauty, to breathe its elixir, to reach -out the hands and plunge them open-fingered through its pulsing -waves of warmth and freshness. It was June and November welded -and fused into a perfect glory that held the sunshine and snow beneath -tender and splendid skies. To have winnowed such a day from -the teeming winter was to have found an odorous peach on a bough -whipped in the storms of winter. One caught the musk of yellow -grain, the flavor of ripening nuts, the fragrance of strawberries, the -exquisite odor of violets, the aroma of all seasons in the wonderful day. -The hum of bees underrode the whistling wings of wild geese flying -southward. The fires slept in drowsing grates, while the people, marveling -outdoors, watched the soft winds woo the roses and the lilies.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Truly it was a day of days. Amid its riotous luxury surely life was -worth living to hold up the head and breathe it in as thirsting men -drink water; to put every sense on its gracious excellence; to throw -the hands wide apart and hug whole armfuls of the day close to the -heart, till the heart itself is enraptured and illumined. God’s benediction -came down with the day, slow dropping from the skies. God’s -smile was its light, and all through and through its supernal beauty -and stillness, unspoken but appealing to every heart and sanctifying -every soul, was His invocation and promise, “Peace on earth, good -will to men.”</p> -<h3 class='c016'>IV.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>Mr. Grady took great interest in children and young -people. It pleased him beyond measure to be able to contribute -to their happiness. He knew all the boys in the -<i>Constitution</i> office, and there is quite a little army of them -employed there in one way and another; knew all about -their conditions, their hopes and their aspirations, and -knew their histories. He had favorites among them, but -his heart went out to all. He interested himself in them in -a thousand little ways that no one else would have thought -of. He was never too busy to concern himself with their -affairs. A year or two before he died he organized a dinner -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>for the newsboys and carriers. It was at first intended -that the dinner should be given by the <i>Constitution</i>, but -some of the prominent people heard of it, and insisted in -making contributions. Then it was decided to accept contributions -from all who might desire to send anything, and -the result of it was a dinner of magnificent proportions. -The tables were presided over by prominent society ladies, -and the occasion was a very happy one in all respects.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This is only one of a thousand instances in which Mr. -Grady interested himself in behalf of young people. -Wherever he could find boys who were struggling to make -a living, with the expectation of making something of -themselves; wherever he could find boys who were giving -their earnings to widowed mothers—and he found hundreds -of them—he went to their aid as promptly and as -effectually as he carried out all his schemes, whether great -or small. It was his delight to give pleasure to all the -children that he knew, and even those he didn’t know. He -had the spirit and the manner of a boy, when not engrossed -in work, and he enjoyed life with the zest and enthusiasm -of a lad of twelve. He was in his element when a circus -was in town, and it was a familiar and an entertaining -sight to see him heading a procession of children—sometimes -fifty in line—going to the big tents to see the animals -and witness the antics of the clowns. At such times, he -considered himself on a frolic, and laid his dignity on the -shelf. His interest in the young, however, took a more -serious shape, as I have said. When Mr. Clark Howell, -the son of Captain Evan Howell, attained his majority, Mr. -Grady wrote him a letter, which I give here as one of the -keys to the character of this many-sided man. Apart from -this, it is worth putting in print for the wholesome advice -it contains. The young man to whom it was written has -succeeded Mr. Grady as managing editor of the <i>Constitution</i>. -The letter is as follows:</p> - -<div class='c026'><span class='sc'>Atlanta, Ga.</span>, <i>Sept. 20, 1884</i>.</div> - -<p class='c022'><span class='sc'>My Dear Clark</span>:—I suppose that just about the time I write this -to you—a little after midnight—you are twenty-one years old. If you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>were born a little later than this hour it is your mother’s fault (or your -father’s), and I am not to blame for it. I assume, therefore, that this is -your birthday, and I send you a small remembrance. I send you a -pen (that you may wear as a cravat-pin) for several reasons. In the -first place, I have no money, my dear boy, with which to buy you -something new. In the next place, it is the symbol of the profession -to which we both belong, in which each has done some good work, and -will, God being willing, do much more. Take the pen, wear it, and -let it stand as a sign of the affection I have for you.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Somehow or other (as the present is a right neat one I have the right -to bore you a little) I look upon you as my own boy. My son will be -just about your age when you are about mine, and he will enter the -paper when you are about where I am. I have got to looking at you -as a sort of prefiguring of what my son may be, and of looking over -you, and rejoicing in your success, as I shall want you to feel toward -him. Let me write to you what I would be willing for you to write to -him.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Never Gamble.</i> Of all the vices that enthrall men, this is the worst, -the strongest, and the most insidious. Outside of the morality of it, it -is the poorest investment, the poorest business, and the poorest fun. -No man is safe who plays at all. It is easiest <i>never</i> to play. I never -knew a man, a gentleman and man of business, who did not regret the -time and money he had wasted in it. A man who plays poker is unfit -for every other business on earth.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Never Drink.</i> I love liquor and I love the fellowship involved in -drinking. My safety has been that I never drink at all. It is much -easier not to drink at all than to drink a little. If I had to attribute -what I have done in life to any one thing, I should attribute it to the -fact that I am a teetotaler. As sure as you are born, it is the pleasantest, -the easiest, and the safest way.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Marry Early.</i> There is nothing that steadies a young fellow like -marrying a good girl and raising a family. By marrying young your -children grow up when they are a pleasure to you. You feel the -responsibility of life, the sweetness of life, and you avoid bad habits.</p> - -<p class='c022'>If you never drink, never gamble, and marry early, there is no -limit to the useful and distinguished life you may live. You will be -the pride of your father’s heart, and the joy of your mother’s.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I don’t know that there is any happiness on earth worth having -outside of the happiness of knowing that you have done your duty and -that you have tried to do good. You try to build up,—there are -always plenty others who will do all the tearing down that is necessary. -You try to live in the sunshine,—men who stay in the shade -always get mildewed.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I will not tell you how much I think of you or how proud I am of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>you. We will let that develop gradually. There is only one thing I -am a little disappointed in. You don’t seem to care quite enough -about base-ball and other sports. Don’t make the mistake of standing -aloof from these things and trying to get old too soon. Don’t underrate -out-door athletic sports as an element of American civilization and -American journalism. I am afraid you inherit this disposition from -your father, who has never been quite right on this subject, but who is -getting better, and will soon be all right, I think.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Well, I will quit. May God bless you, my boy, and keep you -happy and wholesome at heart, and in health. If He does this, we’ll -try and do the rest.</p> -<p class='c027'>Your friend, <span class='sc'>H. W. Grady</span>.</p> - -<p class='c023'>Mr. Grady’s own boyishness led him to sympathize with -everything that appertains to boyhood. His love for his -own children led him to take an interest in other children. -He wanted to see them enjoy themselves in a boisterous, -hearty, health-giving way. The sports that men forget -or forego possessed a freshness for him that he never tried -to conceal. His remarks, in the letter just quoted, in regard -to out-door sports, are thoroughly characteristic. In all -contests of muscle, strength, endurance and skill he took a -continual and an absorbing interest. At school he excelled -in all athletic sports and out-door games. He had a gymnasium -of his own, which was thrown open to his school-mates, -and there he used to practice for hours at a time. -His tastes in this direction led a great many people, all -his friends, to shake their heads a little, especially as he -was not greatly distinguished for scholarship, either at -school or college. They wondered, too, how, after neglecting -the text-books, he could stand so near the head of his -classes. He did not neglect his books. During the short -time he devoted to them each day, his prodigious memory -and his wonderful powers of assimilation enabled him to -master their contents as thoroughly as boys that had spent -half the night in study. Even his family were astonished -at his standing in school, knowing how little time he -devoted to his text-books. He found time, however, in -spite of his devotion to out-door sports and athletic exercises, -to read every book in Athens, and in those days -every family in town had a library of more or less value.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>He had a large library of his own, and, by exchanging -his books with other boys and borrowing, he managed -to get at the pith and marrow of all the English -literature to be found in the university town. Not content -with this, he became, during one of his vacation periods, a -clerk in the only bookstore in Athens. The only compensation -that he asked was the privilege of reading when -there were no customers to be waited on. This was during -his eleventh year, and by the time he was twelve he was -by far the best-read boy that Athens had ever known. -This habit of reading he kept up to the day of his death. -He read all the new books as they came out, and nothing -pleased him better than to discuss them with some congenial -friend. He had no need to re-read his old favorites—the -books he loved as boy and man—for these he could -remember almost chapter by chapter. He read with amazing -rapidity; it might be said that he literally absorbed -whatever interested him, and his sympathies were so wide -and his taste so catholic that it was a poor writer indeed -in whom he could not find something to commend. He -was fond of light literature, but the average modern novel -made no impression on him. He enjoyed it to some extent, -and was amazed as well as amused at the immense amount -of labor expended on the trivial affairs of life by the writers -who call themselves realists. He was somewhat interested -in Henry James’s “Portrait of a Lady,” mainly, I suspect, -because it so cleverly hits off the character of the modern -female newspaper correspondent in the person of Miss -Henrietta Stackpole. Yet there was much in the book that -interested him—the dreariness of parts of it was relieved -by Mrs. Touchett. “Dear old Mrs. Touchett!” he used -to say. “Such immense cleverness as hers does credit to -Mr. James. She refuses to associate with any of the -other characters in the book. I should like to meet her, -and shake hands with her, and talk the whole matter -over.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>When a school-boy, and while devouring all the stories -that fell in his way, young Grady was found one day reading -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>Blackstone. His brother asked him if he thought of -studying law. “No,” was the reply, “but I think everyone -ought to read Blackstone. Besides, the book interests -me.” With the light and the humorous he always mixed -the solids. He was fond of history, and was intensely -interested in all the social questions of the day. He set -great store by the new literary development that has been -going on in the South since the war, and sought to promote -it by every means in his power, through his newspaper and -by his personal influence. He looked forward to the time -when the immense literary field, as yet untouched in the -South, would be as thoroughly worked and developed as -that of New England has been; and he thought that this -development might reasonably be expected to follow, if it -did not accompany, the progress of the South in other -directions. This idea was much in his mind, and in the -daily conversations with the members of his editorial staff, -he recurred to it time and again. One view that he took -of it was entirely practical, as, indeed, most of his views -were. He thought that the literature of the South ought -to be developed, not merely in the interest of belles-lettres, -but in the interest of American history. He regarded it as -in some sort a weapon of defense, and he used to refer in -terms of the warmest admiration to the oftentimes unconscious, -but terribly certain and effective manner in which -New England had fortified herself by means of the literary -genius of her sons and daughters. He perceived, too, that -all the talk about a distinctive Southern literature, which -has been in vogue among the contributors of the Lady’s -Books and annuals, was silly in the extreme. He desired -it to be provincial in a large way, for, in this country, provinciality -is only another name for the patriotism that has -taken root in the rural regions, but his dearest wish was -that it should be purely and truly American in its aim and -tendency. It was for this reason that he was ready to -welcome any effort of a Southern writer that showed a -spark of promise. For such he was always ready with -words of praise.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>He was fond, as I have said, of Dickens, but his favorite -novel, above all others, was Victor Hugo’s “Les Misérables.” -His own daring imagination fitted somewhat into -the colossal methods of Hugo, and his sympathies enabled -him to see in the character of Jean Valjean a type of the -pathetic struggle for life and justice that is going on around -us every day. Mr. Grady read between the lines and saw -beneath the surface, and he was profoundly impressed -with the strong and vital purpose of Hugo’s book. Its -almost ferocious protest against injustice, and its indignant -arraignment of the inhumanity of society, stirred him -deeply. Not only the character of Jean Valjean, but the -whole book appealed to his sense of the picturesque and -artistic. The large lines on which the book is cast, the -stupendous nature of the problem it presents, the philanthropy, -the tenderness—all these moved him as no other -work of fiction ever did. Mr. Grady’s pen was too busy to -concern itself with matters merely literary. He rarely -undertook to write what might be termed a literary essay; -the affairs of life—the demands of the hour—the pressure -of events—precluded this; but all through his lectures -and occasional speeches (that were never reported), there -are allusions to Jean Valjean, and to Victor Hugo. I have -before me the rough notes of some of his lectures, and in -these appear more than once picturesque allusions to -Hugo’s hero struggling against fate and circumstance.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>V.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>The home-life of Mr. Grady was peculiarly happy. He -was blessed, in the first place, with a good mother, and he -never grew away from her influence in the smallest particular. -When his father was killed in the war, his mother -devoted herself the more assiduously to the training of her -children. She molded the mind and character of her -brilliant son, and started him forth on a career that has no -parallel in our history. To that mother his heart always -turned most tenderly. She had made his boyhood bright -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>and happy, and he was never tired of bringing up recollections -of those wonderful days. On one occasion, the -Christmas before he died, he visited his mother at the old -home in Athens. He returned brimming over with happiness. -To his associates in the <i>Constitution</i> office he told -the story of his visit, and what he said has been recorded -by Mrs. Maude Andrews Ohl, a member of the editorial -staff.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Well do I remember,” says Mrs. Ohl, “how he spent -his last year’s holiday season, and the little story he told -me of it as I sat in his office one morning after New -Year’s.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“He had visited his mother in Athens Christmas week, -and he said: ‘I don’t think I ever felt happier than when -I reached the little home of my boyhood. I got there at -night. She had saved supper for me and she had remembered -all the things I liked. She toasted me some cheese over -the fire. Why, I hadn’t tasted anything like it since I put -off my round jackets. And then she had some home-made -candy, she knew I used to love and bless her heart! I -just felt sixteen again as we sat and talked, and she told -me how she prayed for me and thought of me always, and -what a brightness I had been to her life, and how she heard -me coming home in every boy that whistled along the -street. When I went to bed she came and tucked the -covers all around me in the dear old way that none but a -mother’s hands know, and I felt so happy and so peaceful -and so full of tender love and tender memories that I cried -happy, grateful tears until I went to sleep.’</p> - -<p class='c018'>“When he finished his eyes were full of tears and so -were mine. He brushed his hands across his brow swiftly -and said, laughingly: ‘Why, what are you crying about? -What do you know about all this sort of feeling!’</p> - -<p class='c018'>“He never seemed brighter than on that day. He had -received an ovation of loving admiration from the friends -of his boyhood at his old home, and these honors from the -hearts that loved him as a friend were dearer than all -others. It was for these friends, these countrymen of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>his own, that his honors were won and his life was -sacrificed.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>From the home-life of his boyhood he stepped into the -fuller and richer home-life that followed his marriage. He -married the sweetheart of his early youth, Miss Julia King, -of Athens, and she remained his sweetheart to the last. -The first pseudonym that he used in his contributions to -the <i>Constitution</i>, “King Hans,” was a fanciful union -of Miss King’s name with his, and during his service in -Florida, long after he was married, he signed his telegrams -“Jule.” In the office not a day passed that he did not -have something to say of his wife and children. They -were never out of his thoughts, no matter what business -occupied his mind. In his speeches there are constant -allusions to his son, and in his conversation the gentle-eyed -maiden, his daughter, was always tenderly figuring. His -home-life was in all respects an ideal one; ideal in its surroundings, -in its influences, and in its purposes. I think -that the very fact of his own happiness gave him a certain -restlessness in behalf of the happiness of others. His -writings, his speeches, his lectures—his whole life, in fact—teem -with references to home-happiness and home-content. -Over and over again he recurs to these things—always -with the same earnestness, always with the same -enthusiasm. He never meets a man on the street, but he -wonders if he has a happy home—if he is contented—if he -has children that he loves. To him home was a shrine to -be worshiped at—a temple to be happy in, no matter how -humble, or how near to the brink of poverty.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One of his most successful lectures, and the one that he -thought the most of, was entitled “A Patchwork Palace: -The story of a Home.” The Patchwork Palace still exists -in Atlanta, and the man who built it is living in it to-day. -Mr. Grady never wrote out the lecture, and all that can be -found of it is a few rough and faded notes scratched on -little sheets of paper. On one occasion, however, he condensed -the opening of his lecture for the purpose of making -a newspaper sketch of the whole. It is unfinished, but the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>following has something of the flavor of the lecture. He -called the builder of the Palace Mr. Mortimer Pitts, though -that is not his name:</p> - -<p class='c021'>Mr. Mortimer Pitts was a rag-picker. After a patient study of the -responsibility that the statement carries, I do not hesitate to say that he -was the poorest man that ever existed. He lived literally from hand to -mouth. His breakfast was a crust; his dinner a question; his supper -a regret. His earthly wealth, beyond the rags that covered him, was—a -cow that I believe gave both butter-milk and sweet-milk—a dog that -gave neither—and a hand-cart in which he wheeled his wares about. -His wife had a wash-tub that she held in her own title, a wash-board -similarly possessed, and two chairs that came to her as a dowry.</p> - -<p class='c022'>In opposition to this poverty, my poor hero had—first, a name -(Mortimer Pitts, Esq.) which his parents, whose noses were in the air -when they christened him, had saddled upon him aspiringly, but which -followed him through life, his condition being put in contrast with its -rich syllables, as a sort of standing sarcasm. Second, a multitude of -tow-headed children with shallow-blue eyes. The rag-picker never -looked above the tow-heads of his brats, nor beyond the faded blue eyes -of his wife. His world was very small. The cricket that chirped -beneath the hearthstone of the hovel in which he might chance to live, -and the sunshine that crept through the cracks, filled it with music and -light. Trouble only strengthened the bonds of love and sympathy that -held the little brood together, and whenever the Wolf showed his gaunt -form at the door, the white faces, and the blue eyes, and the tow-heads -only huddled the closer to each other, until, in very shame, the -intruder would take himself off.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Mr. Pitts had no home. With the restlessness of an Arab he flitted -from one part of the city to another. He was famous for frightening -the early market-maids by pushing his white round face, usually set in -a circle of smaller white round faces, through the windows of long-deserted -hovels. Wherever there was a miserable shell of a house that -whistled when the wind blew, and wept when the rain fell, there you -might be sure of finding Mr. Pitts at one time or another. I do not -care to state how many times my hero, with an uncertain step and a -pitifully wandering look—his fertile wife, in remote or imminent process -of fruitage—his wan and sedate brood of young ones—his cow, a -thoroughly conscientious creature, who passed her scanty diet to milk -to the woeful neglect of tissue—and his dog, too honest for any foolish -pride, ambling along in an unpretending, bench-legged sort of way,—I -do not care to state, I say, how many times this pale and melancholy -procession passed through the streets, seeking for a shelter in which it -might hide its wretchedness and ward off the storms.</p> - -<p class='c022'><span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>During these periods of transition, Mr. Pitts was wonderfully low-spirited. -“Even a bird has its nest; and the poorest animal has some -sort of a hole in the ground, or a roost where it can go when it is -a-weary,” he said to me once, when I caught him fluttering aimlessly -out of a house which, under the influence of a storm, had spit out its -western wall, and dropped its upper jaw dangerously near to the back -of the cow. And from that time forth, I fancied I noticed my poor -friend’s face growing whiter, and the blue in his eye deepening, and -his lips becoming more tremulous and uncertain. The shuffling figure, -begirt with the rag-picker’s bells, and dragging the wobbling cart, gradually -bended forward, and the look of childish content was gone from -his brow, and a great dark wrinkle had knotted itself there.</p> - -<p class='c022'>And now let me tell you about the starting of the Palace.</p> - -<p class='c022'>One day in the springtime, when the uprising sap ran through every -fibre of the forest, and made the trees as drunk as lords—when the -birds were full-throated, and the air was woven thick with their songs -of love and praise—when the brooks kissed their uttermost banks, and -the earth gave birth to flowers, and all nature was elastic and alert, and -thrilled to the core with the ecstasy of the sun’s new courtship—a -divine passion fell like a spark into Mr. Mortimer Pitts’s heart. How -it ever broke through the hideous crust of poverty that cased the man -about, I do not know, nor shall we ever know ought but that God put -it there in his own gentle way. But there it was. It dropped into the -cold, dead heart like a spark—and there it flared and trembled, and -grew into a blaze, and swept through his soul, and fed upon its bitterness -until the scales fell off and the eyes flashed and sparkled, and the -old man was illumined with a splendid glow like that which hurries -youth to its love, or a soldier to the charge. You would not have -believed he was the same man. You would have laughed had you -been told that the old fellow, sweltering in the dust, harnessed like a -dog to a cart, and plying his pick into the garbage heaps like a man -worn down to the stupidity of a machine, was burning and bursting -with a great ambition—that a passion as pure and as strong as ever -kindled blue blood, or steeled gentle nerves was tugging at his heart-strings. -And yet, so it was. The rag-picker was filled with a consuming -fire—and as he worked, and toiled, and starved, his soul sobbed, and -laughed, and cursed, and prayed.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Mr. Pitts wanted a home. A man named Napoleon once wanted -universal empire. Mr. Pitts was vastly the more daring dreamer of -the two.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I do not think he had ever had a home. Possibly, away back beyond -the years a dim, sweet memory of a hearthstone and a gable roof with -the rain pattering on it, and a cupboard and a clock, and a deep, still -well, came to him like an echo or a dream. Be this as it may, our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>hero, crushed into the very mud by poverty—upon knees and hands -beneath his burden—fighting like a beast for his daily food—shut out -inexorably from all suggestions of home—embittered by starvation—with -his faculties chained down apparently to the dreary problem of -to-day—nevertheless did lift his eyes into the gray future, and set his -soul upon a home.</p> - -<p class='c023'>This is a mere fragment—a bare synopsis of the opening -of what was one of the most eloquent and pathetic lectures -ever delivered from the platform. It was a beautiful idyll -of home—an appeal, a eulogy—a glimpse, as it were, of the -passionate devotion with which he regarded his own home. -Here is another fragment of the lecture that follows closely -after the foregoing:</p> - -<p class='c021'>After a month’s struggle, Mr. Pitts purchased the ground on which -his home was to be built. It was an indescribable hillside, bordering -on the precipitous. A friend of mine remarked that “it was such an -aggravating piece of profanity that the owner gave Mr. Pitts five dollars -to accept the land and the deed to it.” This report I feel bound to -correct. Mr. Pitts purchased the land. He gave three dollars for it. -The deed having been properly recorded, Mr. Pitts went to work. He -borrowed a shovel, and, perching himself against his hillside, began -loosening the dirt in front of him, and spilling it out between his legs, -reminding me, as I passed daily, of a giant dirt-dauber. At length -(and not very long either, for his remorseless desire made his arms fly -like a madman’s) he succeeded in scooping an apparently flat place out -of the hillside and was ready to lay the foundation of his house.</p> - -<p class='c022'>There was a lapse of a month, and I thought that my hero’s soul had -failed him—that the fire, with so little of hope to feed upon, had faded -and left his heart full of ashes. But at last there was a pile of dirty -second-hand lumber placed on the ground. I learned on inquiry that -it was the remains of a small house of ignoble nature which had been -left standing in a vacant lot, and which had been given him by the -owner. Shortly afterwards there came some dry-goods boxes; then -three or four old sills; then a window-frame; then the wreck of another -little house; and then the planks of an abandoned show-bill board. -Finally the house began to grow. The sills were put together by Mr. -Pitts and his wife. A rafter shot up toward the sky and stood there, -like a lone sentinel, for some days, and then another appeared, and -then another, and then the fourth. Then Mr. Pitts, with an agility -born of desperation, swarmed up one of them, and began to lay the -cross-pieces. God must have commissioned an angel especially to watch -over the poor man and save his bones, for nothing short of a miracle -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>could have kept him from falling while engaged in the perilous work. -The frame once up, he took the odds and ends of planks and began to -fit them. The house grew like a mosaic. No two planks were alike in -size, shape, or color. Here was a piece of a dry-goods box, with its -rich yellow color, and a mercantile legend still painted on it, supplemented -by a dozen pieces of plank; and there was an old door nailed -up bodily and fringed around with bits of board picked up at random. -It was a rare piece of patchwork, in which none of the pieces were -related to or even acquainted with each other. A nose, an eye, an ear, -a mouth, a chin picked up at random from the ugliest people of a -neighborhood, and put together in a face, would not have been odder -than was this house. The window was ornamented with panes of three -different sizes, and some were left without any glass at all, as Mr. Pitts -afterwards remarked, “to see through.” The chimney was a piece of -old pipe that startled you by protruding unexpectedly through the wall, -and looked as if it were a wound. The entire absence of smoke at the -outer end of this chimney led to a suspicion, justified by the facts, that -there was no stove at the other end. The roof, which Mrs. Pitts, with -a recklessness beyond the annals, mounted herself and attended to, -was partially shingled and partially planked, this diversity being in the -nature of a plan, as Mr. Pitts confidentially remarked, “to try which -style was the best.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>Such a pathetic travesty on house-building was never before seen. It -started a smile or a tear from every passer-by, as it reared its homely -head there, so patched, uncouth, and poor. And yet the sun of Austerlitz -never brought so much happiness to the heart of Napoleon as came to -Mr. Pitts, as he crept into this hovel, and, having a blanket before the -doorless door, dropped on his knees and thanked God that at last he -had found a home.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The house grew in a slow and tedious way. It ripened with the -seasons. It budded in the restless and rosy spring; unfolded and -developed in the long summer; took shape and fullness in the brown -autumn; and stood ready for the snows and frost when winter had -come. It represented a year of heroism, desperation, and high resolve. -It was the sum total of an ambition that, planted in the breast of a king, -would have shaken the world.</p> - -<p class='c022'>To say that Mr. Pitts enjoyed it would be to speak but a little of -the truth. I have a suspicion that the older children do not appreciate -it as they should. They have a way, when they see a stranger examining -their home with curious and inquiring eyes, of dodging away from -the door shamefacedly, and of reappearing cautiously at the window. -But Mr. Pitts is proud of it. There is no foolishness about him. He -sits on his front piazza, which, I regret to say, is simply a plank resting -on two barrels, and smokes his pipe with the serenity of a king; and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>when a stroller eyes his queer little home curiously, he puts on the air -that the Egyptian gentleman (now deceased) who built the pyramids -might have worn while exhibiting that stupendous work. I have -watched him hours at a time enjoying his house. I have seen him -walk around it slowly, tapping it critically with his knife, as if to -ascertain its state of ripeness, or pressing its corners solemnly as if -testing its muscular development.</p> - -<p class='c023'>Here ends this fragment—a delicious bit of description -that only seems to be exaggerated because the hovel was -seen through the eyes of a poet—of a poet who loved all -his fellow men from the greatest to the smallest, and who -was as much interested in the home-making of Mr. Pitts -as he was in the making of Governors and Senators, a business -in which he afterwards became an adept. From the -fragments of one of his lectures, the title of which I am -unable to give, I have pieced together another story as -characteristic of Mr. Grady as the Patchwork Palace. It -is curious to see how the idea of home and of home-happiness -runs through it all:</p> - -<p class='c021'>One of the happiest men that I ever knew—one whose serenity -was unassailable, whose cheerfulness was constant, and from whose -heart a perennial spring of sympathy and love bubbled up—was a -man against whom all the powers of misfortune were centered. He -belonged to the tailors—those cross-legged candidates for consumption. -He was miserably poor. Fly as fast as it could through the endless -pieces of broadcloth, his hand could not always win crusts for his -children. But he walked on and on; his thin white fingers faltered -bravely through their tasks as the hours slipped away, and his serene -white face bended forward over the tedious cloth into which, stitch -after stitch, he was working his life—and, with once in a while a wistful -look at the gleaming sunshine and the floating clouds, he breathed -heavily and painfully of the poisoned air of his work-room, from which -a score of stronger lungs had sucked all the oxygen. And when, at -night, he would go home, and find that there were just crusts enough -for the little ones to eat, the capricious old fellow would dream that he -was not hungry; and when pressed to eat of the scanty store by his sad -and patient wife, would with an air of smartness pretend a sacred lie—that -he had dined with a friend—and then, with a heart that swelled -almost to bursting, turn away to hide his glistening eyes. Hungry? -Of course he was, time and again. As weak as his body was, as faltering -as was the little fountain that sent the life-blood from his heart—as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>meagre as were his necessities, I doubt if there was a time in all the -long years when he was not hungry.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Did you ever think of how many people have died out of this world -through starvation. Thousands! Not recorded in the books as having -died of starvation,—ah, no? Sometimes it is a thin and watery sort of -apoplexy—sometimes it is dyspepsia, and often consumption. These -terms read better. But there are thousands of them, sensitive, shy -gentlemen—too proud to beg and too honest to steal—too straightforward -to scheme or maneuver—too refined to fill the public with their -griefs—too heroic to whine—that lock their sorrows up in their own -hearts, and go on starving in silence, weakening day after day from -the lack of proper food—the blood running slower and slower through -their veins—their pulse faltering as they pass through the various -stages of inanition, until at last, worn out, apathetic, exhausted, they -are struck by some casual illness, and lose their hold upon life as easily -and as naturally as the autumn leaf, juiceless, withered and dry, parts -from the bough to which it has clung, and floats down the vast silence -of the forest.</p> - -<p class='c022'>But my tailor was cheerful. Nothing could disturb his serenity. -His thin white face was always lit with a smile, and his eyes shone with -a peace that passed my understanding. Hour after hour he would -sing an asthmatic little song that came in wheezes from his starved -lungs—a song that was pitiful and cracked, but that came from his -heart so freighted with love and praise that it found the ears of Him -who softens all distress and sweetens all harmonies. I wondered where -all this happiness came from. How gushed this abundant stream from -this broken reed—how sprung this luxuriant flower of peace from the -scant soil of poverty? From these hard conditions, how came this -ever-fresh felicity?</p> - -<p class='c022'>After he had been turned out of his home, the tailor was taken sick. -His little song gave way to a hectic cough. His place at the work-room -was vacant, and a scanty bed in wretched lodgings held his frail and -fevered frame. The thin fingers clutched the cover uneasily, as if they -were restless of being idle while the little ones were crying for bread. -The tired man tossed to and fro, racked by pain,—but still his face was -full of content, and no word of bitterness escaped him. And the little -song, though the poor lungs could not carry it to the lips, and the -trembling lips could not syllable its music, still lived in his heart and -shone through his happy eyes. “I will be happy soon,” he said in a -faltering way; “I will be better soon—strong enough to go to work -like a man again, for Bessie and the babies.” And he did get better—better -until his face had worn so thin that you could count his heart-beats -by the flush of blood that came and died in his cheeks—better -until his face had sharpened and his smiles had worn their deep lines -<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>about his mouth—better until the poor fingers lay helpless at his side, -and his eyes had lost their brightness. And one day, as his wife sat -by his side, and the sun streamed in the windows, and the air was full -of the fragrance of spring—he turned his face toward her and said: -“I am better now, my dear.” And, noting a rapturous smile playing -about his mouth, and a strange light kindling in his eyes, she bended -her head forward to lay her wifely kiss upon his face. Ah! a last kiss, -good wife, for thy husband! Thy kiss caught his soul as it fluttered -from his pale lips, and the flickering pulse had died in his patient wrist, -and the little song had faded from his heart and gone to swell a divine -chorus,—and at last, after years of waiting, the old man was well!</p> - -<p class='c023'>There was nothing strained or artificial in the sentiment -that led him to dwell so constantly on the theme of home -and home happiness. The extracts I have given are merely -the rough lecture notes which he wrote down in order to -confirm and congeal his ideas. On the platform, while -following the current of these notes, he injected into them -the quality of his rare and inimitable humor, the contrast -serving to give greater strength and coherence to the pathos -that underlay it all. I do not know that I have dwelt with -sufficient emphasis on his humor. He could be witty -enough on occasion, but the sting of it seemed to leave a -bad taste in his mouth. The quality of his humor was not -greatly different from that of Charles Lamb. It was gentle -and perennial—a perpetual wonder and delight to his -friends—irrepressible and unbounded—as antic and as -tricksy as that of a boy, as genial and as sweet as the -smile of a beautiful woman. Mr. Grady depended less on -anecdote than any of our great talkers and speakers, though -the anecdote, apt, pat, and pointed, was always ready at -the proper moment. He depended rather on the originality -of his own point of view—on the results of his own individuality. -The charm of his personal presence was indescribable. -In every crowd and on every occasion he was a -marked man. Quite independently of his own intentions, -he made his presence and his influence felt. What he said, -no matter how light and frivolous, no matter how trivial, -never failed to attract attention. He warmed the hearts of -the old and fired the minds of the young. He managed, in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>some way, to impart something of the charm of his personality -to his written words, so that he carried light, and -hope, and courage to many hearts, and when he passed -away, people who had never seen him fell to weeping when -they heard of his untimely death.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>VI.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>There are many features and incidents in Mr. Grady’s -life that cannot be properly treated in this hurriedly written -and altogether inadequate sketch. His versatility was -such that it would be difficult, even in a deliberately written -biography, to deal with its manifestations and results -as they deserve to be dealt with. At the North, the cry is, -who shall take his place as a peacemaker? At the South, -who shall take his place as a leader, as an orator, and as a -peacemaker? In Atlanta, who shall take his place as all -of these, and as a builder-up of our interests, our enterprises, -and our industries! Who is to make for us the -happy and timely suggestion? Who is to speak the right -word at the right time! The loss the country has sustained -in Mr. Grady’s death can only be measurably estimated -when we examine one by one the manifold relations he -bore to the people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I have spoken of the power of organization that he -possessed. There is hardly a public enterprise in Georgia -or in Atlanta—begun and completed since 1880—that does -not bear witness to his ability, his energy, and his unselfishness. -His busy brain and prompt hand were behind -the great cotton exposition held in Atlanta in 1881. Late -in the spring of 1887, one of the editorial writers of the -<i>Constitution</i> remarked that the next fair held in Atlanta -should be called the Piedmont Exposition. “That shall -be its name,” said Mr. Grady, “and it will be held this -fall.” That was the origin of the Piedmont Exposition. -Within a month the exposition company had been organized, -the land bought, and work on the grounds begun. It -seemed to be a hopeless undertaking—there was so much -to be done, and so little time to do it in. But Mr, Grady -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>was equal to the emergency. He so infused the town with -his own energy and enthusiasm that every citizen came to -regard the exposition as a personal matter, and the <i>Constitution</i> -hammered away at it with characteristic iteration. -There was not a detail of the great show from beginning to -end that was not of Mr. Grady’s suggestion. When it -seemed to him that he was taking too prominent a part in -the management, he would send for other members of the -fair committee, pour his suggestions into their ears, and -thus evade the notoriety of introducing them himself and -prevent the possible friction that might be caused if he -made himself too prominent. He understood human -nature perfectly, and knew how to manage men.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The exposition was organized and the grounds made -ready in an incredibly short time, and the fair was the -most successful in every respect that has ever been held in -the South. Its attractions, which were all suggested by -Mr. Grady, appealed either to the interest or the curiosity -of the people, and the result was something wonderful. It -is to be very much doubted whether any one in this country, -in time of peace, has seen an assemblage of such vast and -overwhelming proportions as that which gathered in Atlanta -on the principal day of the fair. Two years later, the -Piedmont Exposition was reorganized, and Mr. Grady once -more had practical charge of all the details. The result -was an exhibition quite as attractive as the first, to which -the people responded as promptly as before. The Exposition -Company cleared something over $20,000, a result -unprecedented in the history of Southern fairs.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the interval of the two fairs, Mr. Grady organized the -Piedmont Chautauqua at a little station on the Georgia -Pacific road, twenty miles from Atlanta. Beautiful grounds -were laid out and commodious buildings put up. In all -this work Mr. Grady took the most profound interest. The -intellectual and educational features of such an institution -appealed strongly to his tastes and sympathies, and to that -active missionary spirit which impelled him to be continually -on the alert in behalf of humanity. He expended a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>good deal of energy on the Chautauqua and on the programme -of exercises, but the people did not respond -heartily, and the session was not a financial success. And -yet there never was a Chautauqua assembly that had a -richer and a more popular programme of exercises. The -conception was a success intellectually, and it will finally -grow into a success in other directions. Mr. Grady, with -his usual unselfishness, insisted on bearing the expenses of -the lecturers and others, though it crippled him financially -to do so. He desired to protect the capitalists who went -into the enterprise on his account, and, as is usual in such -cases, the capitalists were perfectly willing to be protected. -Mr. Grady was of the opinion that his experience with the -Chautauqua business gave him a deeper and a richer -knowledge of human nature than he had ever had before.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One morning Mr. Grady saw in a New York newspaper -that a gentleman from Texas was in that city making a -somewhat unsuccessful effort to raise funds for a Confederate -veterans’ home. The comments of the newspaper -were not wholly unfriendly, but something in their tone -stirred Mr. Grady’s blood. “I will show them,” he said, -“what can be done in Georgia,” and with that he turned -to his stenographer and dictated a double-leaded editorial -that stirred the State from one end to the other. He -followed it up the next day, and immediately subscriptions -began to flow in. He never suffered interest in the project -to flag until sufficient funds for a comfortable home for -the Confederate veterans had been raised.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Previously, he had organized a movement for putting -up a building for the Young Men’s Christian Association, -and that building now stands a monument to his earnestness -and unselfishness. Years ago, shortly after he came -to Atlanta, he took hold of the Young Men’s Library, -which was in a languishing condition, and put it on its -feet. It was hard work, for he was comparatively unknown -then. Among other things, he organized a lecture course -for the benefit of the library, and he brought some distinguished -lecturers to Atlanta—among others the late -<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>S. S. Cox. Mr. Cox telegraphed from New York that he -would come to Atlanta, and also the subject of the lecture, -so that it could be properly advertised. The telegram said -that the title of the lecture was “Just Human,” and large -posters, bearing that title, were placed on the bill-boards -and distributed around town. As Mr. Grady said, “the -town broke into a profuse perspiration of placards bearing -the strange device, while wrinkles gathered on the brow of -the public intellect and knotted themselves hopelessly as -it pondered over what might be the elucidation of such a -strangely-named subject. At last,” Mr. Grady goes on to -say, “the lecturer came, and a pleasant little gentleman he -was, who beguiled the walk to the hotel with the airiest of -jokes and the brightest of comment. At length, when he -had registered his name in the untutored chirography of -the great, he took me to one side, and asked in an undertone -what those placards meant.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“That,” I replied, looking at him in astonishment, “is -the subject of your lecture.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“‘My lecture!’ he shrieked, ‘whose lecture? What -lecture? My subject! Whose subject? Why, sir,’ said -he, trying to control himself, ‘my subject is ‘Irish -Humor,’ while this is ‘Just Human,’ and he put on his -spectacles and glared into space as if he were determined -to wring from that source some solution of this cruel -joke.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>By an error of transmission, “Irish Humor” had -become “Just Human.” Mr. Grady does not relate the -sequel, but what followed was as characteristic of him as -anything in his unique career.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Well,” said he, turning to Mr. Cox, his bright eyes -full of laughter, “you stick to your subject, and I’ll take -this ready-made one; you lecture on ‘Irish Humor’ and -I’ll lecture on ‘Just Human.’”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And he did. He took the telegraphic error for a subject, -and delivered in Atlanta one of the most beautiful -lectures ever heard here. There was humor in it and -laughter, but he handled his theme with such grace and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>tenderness that the vast audience that sat entranced under -his magnetic oratory went home in tears.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The lecture course that Mr. Grady instituted was never -followed up, although it was a successful one. It was his -way, when he had organized an enterprise and placed it on -its feet, to turn his attention to something else. Sometimes -his successors were equal to the emergency, and -sometimes they were not. The Young Men’s Library has -been in good hands, and it is what may be termed a successful -institution, but it is not what it was when Mr. -Grady was booming the town in its behalf. When he put -his hand to any enterprise or to any movement the effect -seemed to be magical. It was not his personal influence, for -there were some enterprises beyond the range of that, that -responded promptly to his touch. It was not his enthusiasm, -for there have been thousands of men quite as -enthusiastic. Was it his methods? Perhaps the secret -lies hidden there; but I have often thought, while witnessing -the results he brought about, that he had at his -command some new element, or quality, or gift not vouchsafed -to other men. Whatever it was, he employed it only -for the good of his city, his State, his section, and his -country. His patriotism was as prominent and as permanent -as his unselfishness. His public spirit was -unbounded, and, above all things, restless and eager.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I have mentioned only a few of the more important -enterprises in Atlanta that owe their success to Mr. Grady. -He was identified with every public movement that took -shape in Atlanta, and the people were always sure that his -interest and his influence were on the side of honesty and -justice. But his energies took a wider range. He was the -very embodiment of the spirit that he aptly named “the -New South,”—the New South that, reverently remembering -and emulating the virtues of the old, and striving to -forget the bitterness of the past, turns its face to the future -and seeks to adapt itself to the conditions with which an -unsuccessful struggle has environed it, and to turn them -to its profit. Of the New South Mr. Grady was the prophet, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>if not the pioneer. He was never tired of preaching -about the rehabilitation of his section. Much of the marvelous -development that has taken place in the South -during the past ten years has been due to his eager and -persistent efforts to call the attention of the world to her -vast resources. In his newspaper, in his speeches, in his -contributions to Northern periodicals, this was his theme. -No industry was too small to command his attention and -his aid, and none were larger than his expectations. His -was the pen that first drew attention to the iron fields of -Alabama, and to the wonderful marble beds and mineral -wealth of Georgia. Other writers had preceded him, -perhaps, but it is due to his unique methods of advertising -that the material resources of the two States are in their -present stage of development. He had no individual -interest in the development of the material wealth of the -South. During the past ten years there was not a day when -he was alive that he could not have made thousands of -dollars by placing his pen at the disposal of men interested -in speculative schemes. He had hundreds of opportunities -to write himself rich, but he never fell below the high level -of unselfishness that marked his career as boy and man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There was no limit to his interest in Southern development. -The development of the hidden wealth of the -hills and valleys, while it appealed strongly to an imagination -that had its practical and common-sense side, but not -more strongly than the desperate struggle of the farmers -of the South in their efforts to recover from the disastrous -results of the war while facing new problems of labor and -conditions wholly strange. Mr. Grady gave them the -encouragement of his voice and pen, striving to teach them -the lessons of hope and patience. He was something more -than an optimist. He was the embodiment, the very -essence, as it seemed—of that smiling faith in the future -that brings happiness and contentment, and he had the -faculty of imparting his faith to other people. For him -the sun was always shining, and he tried to make it shine -for other men. At one period, when the farmers of Georgia -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>seemed to be in despair, and while there was a notable -movement from this State to Georgia, Mr. Grady caused -the correspondents of the <i>Constitution</i> to make an investigation -into the agricultural situation in Georgia. The -result was highly gratifying in every respect. The correspondents -did their work well, as, indeed, they could -hardly fail to do under the instructions of Mr. Grady. -The farmers who had been despondent took heart, and -from that time to the present there has been a steady -improvement in the status of agriculture in Georgia.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It would be difficult to describe or to give an adequate -idea of the work—remarkable in its extent as well as in its -character—that Mr. Grady did for Georgia and for the -South. It was his keen and hopeful eyes that first saw the -fortunes that were to be made in Florida oranges. He -wrote for the <i>Constitution</i> in 1877 a series of glowing letters -that were full of predictions and figures based on -them. The matter was so new at that time, and Mr. -Grady’s predictions and estimates seemed to be so extravagant, -that some of the editors, irritated by his optimism, -as well as by his success as a journalist, alluded to his figures -as “Grady’s facts,” and this expression had quite a -vogue, even among those who were not unfriendly.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Nevertheless there is not a prediction to be found in -Mr. Grady’s Florida letters that has not been fulfilled, and -his figures appear to be tame enough when compared with -the real results that have been brought about by the -orange-growers. Long afterwards he alluded publicly to -“Grady’s facts,” accepted its application, and said he was -proud that his facts always turned out to be facts.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It would be impossible to enumerate the practical subjects -with which Mr. Grady dealt in the <i>Constitution</i>. In -the editorial rooms he was continually suggesting the -exhaustive treatment of some matter of real public interest, -and in the majority of instances, after making the suggestion -to one of his writers, he would treat the subject -himself in his own inimitable style. His pleasure trips -were often itineraries in behalf of the section he was visiting. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>He went on a pleasure trip to Southern Georgia on -one occasion, and here are the headlines of a few of the -letters he sent back: “Berries and Politics,” “The Savings -of the Georgia Farmers,” “The Largest Strawberry -Farm in the State,” “A Wandering Bee, and How it Made -the LeConte Pear,” “The Turpentine Industries.” All -these are suggestive. Each letter bore some definite relation -to the development of the resources of the State.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To Mr. Grady, more than to any other man, is due the -development of the truck gardens and watermelon farms -of southern and southwest Georgia. When he advised in -the <i>Constitution</i> the planting of watermelons for shipment -to the North, the proposition was hooted at by some of the -rival editors, but he “boomed” the business, as the phrase -is, and to-day the watermelon business is an established -industry, and thousands of farmers are making money -during what would otherwise be a dull season of the year. -And so with hundreds of other things. His suggestions -were always practicable, though they were sometimes so -unique as to invite the criticism of the thoughtless, and -they were always for the benefit of others—for the benefit -of the people. How few men, even though they live to a -ripe old age, leave behind them such a record of usefulness -and unselfish devotion as that of this man, who died before -his prime!</p> -<h3 class='c016'>VII.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>Mr. Grady’s editorial methods were as unique as all his -other methods. They can be described, but they cannot -be explained. He had an instinctive knowledge of news -in its embryonic state; he seemed to know just where and -when a sensation or a startling piece of information would -develop itself, and he was always ready for it. Sometimes -it seemed to grow and develop under his hands, and his -insight and information were such that what appeared to -be an ordinary news item would suddenly become, under -his manipulation and interpretation, of the first importance. -It was this faculty that enabled him to make the <i>Constitution</i> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>one of the leading journals of the country in its method -of gathering and treating the news.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was not as fond of the editorial page as -might be supposed. Editorials were very well in their way—capital -in an emergency—admirable when a nail was to -be clinched, so to speak—but most important of all to his -mind was the news and the treatment of it. The whirl of -events was never too rapid for him. The most startling -developments, the most unexpected happenings, always -found him ready to deal with them instantly and in just -the right way.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He magnified the office of reporting, and he had a great -fancy for it himself. There are hundreds of instances -where he voluntarily assumed the duties of a reporter after -he became managing editor. A case in point is the work -he did on the occasion of the Charleston earthquake. The -morning after that catastrophe he was on his way to -Charleston. He took a reporter with him, but he preferred -to do most of the work. His graphic descriptions of the -disaster in all its phases—his picturesque grouping of all -the details—were the perfection of reporting, and were -copied all over the country. The reporter who accompanied -Mr. Grady had a wonderful tale to tell on his return. -To the people of that desolate town, the young Georgian -seemed to carry light and hope. Hundreds of citizens were -encamped on the streets. Mr. Grady visited these camps, -and his sympathetic humor brought a smile to many a sad -face. He went from house to house, and from encampment -to encampment, wrote two or three columns of telegraphic -matter on his knee, went to his room in the hotel in the -early hours of morning, fell on the bed with his clothes on, -and in a moment was sound asleep. The reporter never -knew the amount of work Mr. Grady had done until he -saw it spread out in the columns of the <i>Constitution</i>. -Working at high-pressure there was hardly a limit to the -amount of copy Mr. Grady could produce in a given time, -and it sometimes happened that he dictated an editorial to -his stenographer while writing a news article.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>He did a good deal of his more leisurely newspaper work -at home, with his wife and children around him. He never -wrote on a table or desk, but used a lapboard or a pad, -leaning back in his chair with his feet as high as his head. -His house was always a centre of attraction, and when visitors -came in Mrs. Grady used to tell them that they -needn’t mind Henry. The only thing that disturbed him -on such occasions was when the people in the room conversed -in a tone so low that he failed to hear what they -were saying. When this happened he would look up from -his writing with a quick “What’s that?” This often happened -in the editorial rooms, and he would frequently write -while taking part in a conversation, never losing the thread -of his article or of the talk.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As I have said, he reserved his editorials for occasions -or emergencies, and it was then that his luminous style -showed at its best. He employed always the apt phrase; -he was, in fact a phrase-builder. His gift of expression -was something marvelous, and there was something melodious -and fluent about his more deliberate editorials that -suggested the movement of verse. I was reading awhile -ago his editorial appealing to the people of Atlanta on the -cold Christmas morning which has already been alluded to -in this sketch. It is short—not longer than the pencil with -which he wrote it, but there is that about it calculated to -stir the blood, even now. Above any other man I have -ever known Mr. Grady possessed the faculty of imparting -his personal magnetism to cold type; and even such a -statement as this is an inadequate explanation of the swift -and powerful effect that his writings had on the public -mind.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He had a keen eye for what, in a general way, may be -called climaxes. Thus he was content to see the daily <i>Constitution</i> -run soberly and sedately along during the week -if it developed into a great paper on Sunday. He did -more editorial work for the Sunday paper than for any -other issue, and bent all his energies toward making an -impression on that day. There was nothing about the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>details of the paper that he did not thoroughly understand. -He knew more about the effects of type combinations than -the printers did; he knew as much about the business -department as the business manager; and he could secure -more advertisements in three hours than his advertising -clerks could solicit in a week. It used to be said of him -that he lacked the business faculty. I suppose the remark -was based on the fact that, in the midst of all the tremendous -booms he stirred up, and the enterprises he fostered, -he remained comparatively poor. I think he purposely -neglected the opportunities for private gain that -were offered him. There can be no more doubt of his business -qualification than there can be of the fact that he -neglected opportunities for private gain; but his business -faculties were given to the service of the public—witness -his faultless management of two of the greatest expositions -ever held in the South. Had he served his own interests -one-half as earnestly as he served those of the people, he -would have been a millionaire. As it was, he died comparatively -poor.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady took great pride in the <i>Weekly Constitution</i>, -and that paper stands to-day a monument to his business -faculty and to his wonderful methods of management. -When Mr. Grady took hold of the weekly edition, it had -about seven thousand subscribers, and his partners thought -that the field would be covered when the list reached ten -thousand. To-day the list of subscribers is not far below -two hundred thousand, and is larger than that of the weekly -edition of any other American newspaper. Just how this -result has been brought about it is impossible to say. His -methods were not mysterious, perhaps, but they did not lie -on the surface. The weekly editions of newspapers that -have reached large circulations depend on some specialty—as, -for instance, the Detroit <i>Free Press</i> with the popular -sketches of M. Quad, and the Toledo <i>Blade</i>, with the rancorous, -but still popular, letters of Petroleum V. Nasby. -The <i>Weekly Constitution</i> has never depended on such -things. It has had, and still has, the letters of Bill Arp, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>of Sarge Wier, and of Betsey Hamilton, homely humorists -all, but Mr. Grady took great pains never to magnify these -things into specialties. Contributions that his assistants -thought would do for the weekly, Mr. Grady would cut out -relentlessly.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It sometimes happened that subscribers would begin to -fall off. Then Mr. Grady would send for the manager of -the weekly department, and proceed to caucus with him, -as the young men around the office termed the conference. -During the next few days there would be a great stir in the -weekly department, and in the course of a fortnight the -list of subscribers would begin to grow again. Once, when -talking about the weekly, Mr. Grady remarked in a jocular -way that when subscriptions began to flow in at the rate of -two thousand a day, he wanted to die. Singularly enough, -when he was returning from Boston, having been seized -with the sickness that was so soon to carry him off, the -business manager telegraphed him that more than two -thousand subscribers had been received the day before.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the midst of the manifold duties and responsibilities -that he had cheerfully taken on his shoulders, there came -to Mr. Grady an ardent desire to aid in the reconciliation -of the North and South, and to bring about a better understanding -between them. This desire rapidly grew into a -fixed and solemn purpose. His first opportunity was an -invitation to the banquet of the New England Society, -which he accepted with great hesitation. The wonderful -effect of his speech at that banquet, and the tremendous -response of applause and approval that came to him from -all parts of the country, assured him that he had touched -the key-note of the situation, and he knew then that his -real mission was that of Pacificator. There was a change -in him from that time forth, though it was a change visible -only to friendly and watchful eyes. He put away something -of his boyishness, and became, as it seemed, a trifle -more thoughtful. His purpose developed into a mission, -and grew in his mind, and shone in his eyes, and remained -with him day and night. He made many speeches after -<span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>that, frequently in little out-of-the-way country places, but -all of them had a national significance and national bearing. -He was preaching the sentiments of harmony, fraternity, -and good will to the South as well as to the North.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He prepared his Boston speech with great care, not -merely to perfect its form, but to make it worthy of the -great cause he had at heart, and in its preparation he -departed widely from his usual methods of composition. -He sent his servants away, locked himself in Mrs. Grady’s -room, and would not tolerate interruptions from any source. -His memory was so prodigious that whatever he wrote was -fixed in his mind, so that when he had once written out a -speech, he needed the manuscript no more. Those who -were with him say that he did not confine himself to the -printed text of the Boston speech, but made little excursions -suggested by his surroundings. Nevertheless, that -speech, as it stands, reaches the high-water mark of modern -oratory. It was his last, as it was his best, contribution -to the higher politics of the country—the politics that are -above partisanry and self-seeking.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>VIII.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>From Boston Mr. Grady came home to die. It was -known that he was critically ill, but his own life had been -so hopeful and so bright, that when the announcement of -his death was made the people of Atlanta were paralyzed, -and the whole country shocked. It was a catastrophe so -sudden and so far-reaching that even sorrow stood dumb -for a while. The effects of such a calamity were greater -than sorrow could conceive or affection contemplate. Men -who had only a passing acquaintance with him wept when -they heard of his death. Laboring men spoke of him with -trembling lips and tearful eyes, and working-women went -to their tasks in the morning crying bitterly. Never again -will there come to Atlanta a calamity that shall so profoundly -touch the hearts of the people—that shall so -encompass the town with the spirit of mourning.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>I feel that I have been unable, in this hastily written -sketch, to do justice to the memory of this remarkable -man. I have found it impossible to describe his marvelous -gifts, his wonderful versatility, or the genius that set him -apart from other men. The new generations that arise will -bring with them men who will be fitted to meet the emergencies -that may arise, men fitted to rule and capable of -touching the popular heart; but no generation will ever -produce a genius so versatile, a nature so rare and so sweet, -a character so perfect and beautiful, a heart so unselfish, -and a mind of such power and vigor, as those that combined -to form the unique personality of Henry W. Grady. Never -again, it is to be feared, will the South have such a wise -and devoted leader, or sectional unity so brilliant a champion, -or the country so ardent a lover, or humanity so -unselfish a friend, or the cause of the people so eloquent -an advocate.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span> - <h2 class='c012'>MEMORIAL OF HENRY W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='sc'>Prepared by Marion J. Verdery, at the Request of the New York Southern Society.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c020'>HENRY WOODFIN GRADY was born in Athens, -Georgia, May 17, 1851, and died in Atlanta, -Georgia, December 23, 1889.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His father, William S. Grady, was a native of North -Carolina, and lived in that State until about the year 1846, -when he moved to Athens, Georgia. He was a man of -vigorous energy, sterling integrity, and great independence -of character. He was not literary by profession, but devoted -himself to mercantile pursuits, and accumulated what -was in those days considered a handsome fortune. Soon -after moving to Georgia to live, he married Miss Gartrell, -a woman of rare strength of character and deep religious -nature. Their married life was sanctified by love of God, -and made happy by a consistent devotion to each other.</p> - -<p class='c018'>They had three children, Henry Woodfin, William S., -Jr., and Martha. Henry Grady’s father was an early volunteer -in the Confederate Army. He organized and equipped -a company, of which he was unanimously elected captain, -and went at once to Virginia, where he continued in active -service until he lost his life in one of the battles before -Petersburg. During his career as a soldier he bore himself -with such conspicuous valor, that he was accorded the rare -distinction of promotion on the field for gallantry.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He fought in defense of his convictions, and fell “a -martyr for conscience’ sake.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>His widow, bereft of her helpmate, faced alone the grave -responsibility of rearing her three young children.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>She led them in the ways of righteousness and truth, -and always sweetened their lives with the tenderness of -indulgence, and the beauty of devotion. Two of them still -live to call her blessed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>If memorials were meant only for the day and generation -in which they are written, who would venture upon -the task of preparing one to Henry W. Grady? His death -occasioned such wide grief, and induced such unprecedented -demonstrations of sorrow, that nothing can be commensurate -with those impressive evidences of the unrivaled -place he held in the homage of his countrymen.</p> - -<p class='c018'>No written memorial can indicate the strong hold he had -upon the Southern people, nor portray that peerless personality -which gave him his marvelous power among men. -He had a matchless grace of soul that made him an unfailing -winner of hearts. His translucent mind pulsated with -the light of truth and beautified all thought. He grew -flowers in the garden of his heart and sweetened the world -with the perfume of his spirit. His endowments were so -superior, and his purposes so unselfish, that he seemed to -combine all the best elements of genius, and live under the -influence of Divine inspiration.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As both a writer and a speaker, he was phenomenally -gifted. There was no limit, either to the power or witchery -of his pen. In his masterful hand, it was as he chose, -either the mighty instrument which Richelieu described, or -the light wand of a poet striking off the melody of song, -though not to the music of rhyme. In writing a political -editorial, or an article on the industrial development of the -South, or anything else to which he was moved by an -inspiring sense of patriotism or conviction of duty, he was -logical, aggressive, and unanswerable. When building an -air-castle over the framework of his fancy, or when pouring -out his soul in some romantic dream, or when sounding -the depth of human feeling by an appeal for Charity’s sake, -his command of language was as boundless as the realm of -thought, his ideas as beautiful as pictures in the sky, and -his pathos as deep as the well of tears. As an orator, he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>had no equal in the South. He literally mastered his audience -regardless of their character, chaining them to the -train of his thought and carrying them captive to conviction. -He moved upon their souls like the Divine Spirit -upon the waters, either lashing them into storms of enthusiasm, -or stilling them into the restful quiet of sympathy. -He was like no other man—he was a veritable magician. -He could invest the most trifling thing with proportions of -importance not at all its own. He could transform a -homely thought into an expression of beauty beneath his -wondrous touch. From earliest childhood he possessed that -indefinable quality which compels hero-worship.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the untimely ending of his brilliant and useful career—an -ending too sudden to be called less than tragic—there -came an affliction as broad as the land he loved, and a grief -well-nigh universal. Atlanta lamented her foremost citizen; -Georgia mourned her peerless son; the New South -agonized over the fall of her intrepid leader; and the heart -of the nation was athrob with sorrow when the announcement -went forth—“Henry W. Grady is dead.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The power of his personality, the vital force of his -energy, and the scope of his genius, had always precluded -the thought that death could touch him, and hence, when -he fell a victim to the dread destroyer, there was a terrible -shock felt, and sorrow rolled like a tempest over the souls -of the Southern people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The swift race he ran, and the lofty heights he attained, -harmonized well with God’s munificent endowment of him. -In every field that he labored, his achievements were so -wonderful, that a faithful account of his career sounds -more like the extravagance of eulogy, than like a record of -truth. Of his very early boyhood no account is essential to -the purposes of this sketch. It is unnecessary to give any -details of him prior to the time when he was a student in -the University of Georgia, at Athens. From that institution -he was graduated in 1868.</p> - -<p class='c018'>During his college days, he was a boy of bounding -spirit, who, by an inexplicable power over his associates, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>made for himself an unchallenged leadership in all things -with which he concerned himself. He was not a close student. -He never studied his text-books more than was -necessary to guarantee his rising from class to class, and -to finally secure his diploma. He had no fondness for any -department of learning except belles-lettres. In that -branch of study he stood well, simply because it was to his -liking. The sciences, especially mathematics, were really -distasteful to him. He was an omnivorous reader. Every -character of Dickens was as familiar to him as a personal -friend. That great novelist was his favorite author. He -read widely of history, and had a great memory for dates -and events. He reveled in poetry as a pastime, but never -found anything that delighted him more than “Lucile.” -He learned that love-song literally by heart.</p> - -<p class='c018'>While at college his best intellectual efforts were made -in his literary and debating society. He aspired to be -anniversarian of his society, and his election seemed a -foregone conclusion. He was, however, over-confident of -success in the last days of the canvass, and when the election -came off was beaten by one vote. This was his first -disappointment, and went hard with him. He could not -bring himself to understand how anything toward the -accomplishment of which he had bent his energy could fail. -His defeat proved a blessing in disguise, for the following -year a place of higher honor, namely that of “commencement -orator” was instituted at the University, and to that -he was elected by acclamation. This was the year of his -graduation, and the speech he made was the sensation of -commencement. His subject was “Castles in Air,” and in -the treatment of his poetic theme he reveled in that wonderful -power of word painting for which he afterwards -became so famous. Even in those early days, he wrote and -spoke with a fluency of expression, and brilliancy of fancy, -that were incomparable.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In all the relations of college life he was universally -popular. He had a real genius for putting himself <i>en rapport</i> -with all sorts and conditions of men. His sympathy -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>was quick-flowing and kind. Any sight or story of suffering -would touch his heart and make the tears come. His -generosity, like a great river, ran in ceaseless flow and -broadening course toward the wide ocean of humanity. -He lived in the realization of its being “more blessed to -give than to receive.” He never stopped to consider the -worthiness of an object, but insisted that a man was entitled -to some form of selfishness, and said his was the self-indulgence -which he experienced in giving.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There was an old woman in Athens, who was a typical -professional beggar. She wore out everybody’s charity -except Grady’s. He never tired helping her. One day he -said, just after giving her some money, “I do hope old -Jane will not die as long as I live in Athens. If she does, -my most unfailing privilege of charity will be cut off.” A -princely liberality marked everything he did. His name -never reduced the average of a subscription list, but eight -times out of ten it was down for the largest amount.</p> - -<p class='c018'>By his marked individuality of character, and evidences -of genius, even as a boy he impressed himself upon all -those with whom he came in contact.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Immediately after his graduation at Athens, he went to -the University of Virginia, not so much with a determination -to broaden his scholastic attainments, as with the idea -that in that famous institution he would be inspired to a -higher cultivation of his inborn eloquence. From the day -he entered the University of Virginia, he had only one -ambition, and that was to be “society orator.” He made -such a profound impression in the Washington Society that -his right to the honor he craved was scarcely disputed. In -the public debates, he swept all competitors before him. -About two weeks before the Society’s election of its orator, -he had routed every other aspirant from the field, and -it seemed he would be unanimously chosen. However, -when election day came, that same over-confidence which -cost him defeat at Athens lost him victory at Charlottesville. -This disappointment nearly broke his heart. He -came back home crestfallen and dispirited, and but for the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>wonderful buoyancy of his nature, he might have succumbed -permanently to the severe blow which had been -struck at his youthful aspirations and hopes.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was not long after his return to Georgia before he -determined to make journalism his life-work. At once he -began writing newspaper letters on all sorts of subjects, -trusting to his genius to give interest to purely fanciful -topics, which had not the slightest flavor of news. Having -thus felt his way out into the field of his adoption, he soon -went regularly into newspaper business.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Just about this time, and before he had attained his -majority, he married Miss Julia King, of Athens. She was -the first sweetheart of his boyhood, and kept that hallowed -place always. Her beauty and grace of person, united to -her charms of character, made her the queen of his life and -the idol of his love. She, with two children (a boy and -girl), survive him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In his domestic life he was tender and indulgent to his -family, and generously hospitable to his friends. The very -best side of him was always turned toward his hearthstone, -and there he dispensed the richest treasures of his soul. -His home was his castle, and in it his friends were always -made happy by the benediction of his welcome.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Soon after marriage he moved to Rome, Georgia, and -established himself in the joint ownership, and editorial -management of the Rome <i>Commercial</i>, which paper, instead -of prospering, was soon enveloped in bankruptcy, costing -Mr. Grady many thousands of dollars. Shortly after this -he moved to Atlanta, and formed a partnership with Col. -Robert Alliston in founding the Atlanta <i>Herald</i>. The conduct -of that paper was a revelation in Georgia journalism. -Grady and Alliston combined probably more genius than -any two men who have ever owned a paper together in that -State. They made the columns of the <i>Herald</i> luminous. -They also put into it more push and enterprise than had -ever been known in that section. They sacrificed everything -to daily triumph, regardless of cost or consequences. -They went so far as to charter an engine in order that they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>might put their morning edition in Macon, Georgia, by -breakfast time. This was a feat never before dreamed of -in Georgia. They accomplished the unprecedented undertaking, -but in doing that, and other things of unwarranted -extravagance, it was not long before the Atlanta <i>Herald</i> -went “lock, stock and barrel,” into the wide-open arms of -the Sheriff. In this venture Mr. Grady not only sunk all -of his personal fortune which remained after the Rome -wreck, but involved himself considerably in debt. Thus at -twenty-three years of age, he was a victim to disappointment -in the only two pronounced ambitions he had ever -had, and was depressed by the utter failure of the only -two business enterprises in which he had ever engaged.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He made another effort, and started a weekly paper -called the <i>Atlanta Capital</i>. This, however, soon went the -sorrowing way of his other hopes.</p> - -<p class='c018'>While those failures and disappointments seemed cruel -set-backs in that day, looked at now they may be counted -to have been no more than healthful discipline to him. -They served to stir his spirit the deeper, and fill him with -nobler resolve. Bravely he trampled misfortune under his -feet, and climbed to the high place of honor and usefulness -for which he was destined.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the day of his extreme poverty, instead of despairing -he took on new strength and courage that equipped him -well for future triumphs. When it is remembered that his -vast accomplishments and national reputation were compassed -within the next fourteen years, the record is simply -amazing.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Fourteen years ago, Henry W. Grady stood in Atlanta, -Georgia, bankrupt and almost broken-hearted. Everything -behind him was blotted by failure, and nothing ahead of -him was lighted with promise. In that trying day he -borrowed fifty dollars, and giving twenty of it to his faithful -wife, took the balance and determined to invest it in -traveling as far as it would carry him from the scene of -his discouragements. He had one offer then open to him, -namely, the editorial management of the Wilmington -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>(North Carolina) <i>Star</i>, at a salary of twelve hundred dollars -a year. It was the only thing that seemed a guarantee -against actual want, and he had about determined to accept -it, when yielding to the influence of pure presentiment, -instead of buying a ticket to Wilmington with his thirty -dollars, he bought one to New York City.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He landed here with three dollars and seventy-five cents, -and registered at the Astor House in order to be in easy -reach of Newspaper Row.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He used to tell the story of his experience on that occasion -in this way: “After forcing down my unrelished -breakfast on the morning of my arrival in New York, I -went out on the sidewalk in front of the Astor House, and -gave a bootblack twenty-five cents, one-fifth of which was -to pay for shining my shoes, and the balance was a fee for -the privilege of talking to him. I felt that I would die if -I did not talk to somebody. Having stimulated myself at -that doubtful fountain of sympathy, I went across to the -<i>Herald</i> office, and the managing editor was good enough -to admit me to his sanctum. It happened that just at that -time several of the Southern States were holding constitutional -conventions. The <i>Herald</i> manager asked me if I -knew anything about politics, I replied that I knew very -little about anything else. ‘Well,’ said he, ‘sit at this -desk and write me an article on State conventions in the -South.’ With these words he tossed me a pad and left -me alone in the room. When my task-master returned, I -had finished the article and was leaning back in the chair -with my feet up on the desk. ‘Why, Mr. Grady, what is -the matter?’ asked the managing editor. ‘Nothing,’ I -replied, ‘except that I am through.’ ‘Very well, leave -your copy on the desk, and if it amounts to anything I will -let you hear from me. Where are you stopping?’ ‘I -am at the Astor House.’ Early the next morning before -getting out of bed, I rang for a hall-boy and ordered the -<i>Herald</i>. I actually had not strength to get up and dress -myself, until I could see whether or not my article had -been used. I opened the <i>Herald</i> with a trembling hand, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>and when I saw that ‘State Conventions in the South’ -was on the editorial page, I fell back on the bed, buried -my face in the pillow, and cried like a child. When I went -back to the <i>Herald</i> office that day the managing editor -received me cordially and said, ‘You can go back to -Georgia, Mr. Grady, and consider yourself in the employ -of the <i>Herald</i>.’”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Almost immediately after his return to Atlanta, he was -tendered, and gladly accepted, a position on the editorial -staff of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>. He worked vigorously -for the New York <i>Herald</i> for five years as its Southern -correspondent, and in that time did some of the most brilliant -work that has ever been done for that excellent -journal.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Notable among his achievements were the graphic -reports he made of the South Carolina riots in 1876. But -the special work which gave him greatest fame was his -exposure of the election frauds in Florida that same year. -He secured the memorable confession of Dennis and his -associates, and <i>his</i> report of it to the <i>Herald</i> was exclusive. -For that piece of work alone, Mr. Bennett paid him a thousand -dollars. His attachment to the editorial staff of the -Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> gave him an opportunity to impress -himself upon the people of Georgia, which he did with -great rapidity and power.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In 1879, he came to New York, partly for recreation and -partly for the purpose of writing a series of topical letters -from Gotham. While here he was introduced by Governor -John B. Gordon to Cyrus W. Field. Mr. Field was -instantly impressed by him, and liked him so much that -he loaned him twenty thousand dollars with which to buy -one-fourth interest in the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>. He made -the purchase promptly, and that for which he paid twenty -thousand dollars in 1880, was at the time of his death in -1889 worth at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. -The enormous increase in the value of the <i>Constitution</i> -during his identification with it shows nothing more plainly -than the value of his marvelous work in its service.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Securing an interest in the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> may be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>said to have fixed his noble destiny. It emancipated his -genius from the bondage of poverty, quickened his sensitive -spirit with a new consciousness of power for good, and -inspired him to untiring service in the widest fields of usefulness. -He saw the hand of God in the favor that had -blessed him, and in acknowledgment of the Divine providence -dedicated his life to the cause of truth, and the -uplifting of humanity. Atlanta was his home altar, and -there he poured out the best libations of his heart. That -thriving city to-day has no municipal advantage, no public -improvement, no educational institution, no industrial -enterprise which does not either owe its beginning to his -readiness of suggestion, or its mature development to his -sustaining influence. Its streets are paved with his energy -and devotion, its houses are built in the comeliness and -fashion that he inspired, and its vast business interests are -established in the prosperity and strength that he foretold.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Georgia was the pride of his life, and for the increase -of her peace and prosperity, the deepening brotherhood of -her people, the development of her vast mineral resources, -and the enrichment of her varied harvests, he wrote, and -talked, and prayed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The whole South was to him sacred ground, made so -both by the heroic death of his father and the precious -birth of his children. By the former, he felt all the memories -and traditions of the Old South to have been sanctified, -and by the latter he felt all the hopes and aspirations -of the New South to have been beautified. And thus with -a personality altogether unique, and a genius thoroughly -rare, he stood like a magical link between the past and the -future. Turning toward the days that were gone, he sealed -them with a holy kiss; and then looking toward the time -that had not yet come, he conjured it with a voice of -prophecy.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In politics he was an undeniable leader, and yet never -held office. High places were pressed for his acceptance -times without number, but he always resolutely put them -away from him, insisting that office had no charm for him. -He could have gone to Congress, as representative from the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>State at large, if he would only have consented to serve. -His name was repeatedly suggested for the governorship -of Georgia, but he invariably suppressed the idea promptly, -urging his friends to leave him at peace in his private station.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In spite of his indifference to all political preferment, it -is universally believed in Georgia, that had he lived, he -would have soon been sent to the United States Senate. -Although he had no love of office for himself, he was the -incomparable Warwick of his day. He was almost an -absolute dictator in Georgia politics. No man cared to -stand for election to any place, high or low, unless he felt -Grady was with him. He certainly was the most powerful -factor in the election of two Governors, and practically -gave more than one United States Senator his seat. His -power extended all over the State.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Such a man could not be held within the narrow limits -of local reputation. It mattered not how far he traveled -from home, he made himself quickly known by the power -of his impressive individuality, or by some splendid exhibition -of his genius.</p> - -<p class='c018'>By two speeches, one made at a banquet of the New -England Society in New York City, and the other at a -State fair at Dallas, Texas, he achieved for himself a reputation -which spanned the continent. The most magnificent -effort of eloquence which he ever made was the soul-stirring -speech delivered in Boston on “The Race Problem,” -just ten days before he died. These three speeches -were enough to confirm and perpetuate his fame as a surpassing -orator.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is impossible to give any adequate idea of Henry -Grady’s largeness of heart, nobility of soul, and brilliancy -of mind. Those three elements combined in royal abundance -to make his princely nature.</p> - -<p class='c018'>When Georgia’s great triumvirate died, their spirits -seemed to linger on earth in the being of Henry W. Grady. -While he lived he perpetuated the political sagacity of -Alexander H. Stephens, the consummate genius of Robert -Toombs, and the impassioned eloquence of Benjamin H. -Hill.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>True greatness is immortal. Real patriotic purposes -are never swallowed up in death. Good works well begun -live long after their praiseworthy originators have ascended -in glory. If there is any truth in these reflections, they -are precious and priceless to all who mourn the untimely -taking off of Henry Woodfin Grady.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His sudden death struck grief to all true-hearted American -citizens. In him was combined such breadth of usefulness -and brilliancy of genius, that he illumined the critical -period of American history in which he lived, and set the -firmament of our national glory with many a new and shining -star of promise. This century, though old in its last -quarter, has given birth to but one Henry Woodfin Grady, -and it will close its eyes long before his second self is seen.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A hundred years hence, when sweet charity is stemming -the tides of suffering in the world, if truth is not dumb, -she will say: This blessed work is an echo from Henry -Grady’s life on earth. A hundred years hence, when -friendship is building high her altars of self-sacrifice in the -name of love and loyalty, if truth is not dumb, she will -say: This beautiful service is going on as a perpetual -memorial to Henry Grady’s life on earth. A hundred -years hence, when all the South shall have been enriched -by the development of her vast natural resources, if truth -is not dumb, she will say: This is the legitimate fruit of -Henry Grady’s labor of love while he lived on earth. A -hundred years hence, when patriotism shall have beaten -down all sectional and partisan prejudice, and the burning -problems that press upon our national heart to-day shall -have been “solved in patience and fairness,” if truth is not -dumb, she will say: This is the glorious verification of -Henry Grady’s prophetic utterances while on earth. And -when in God’s own appointed time this nation shall lead -all other nations of the earth in the triumphal march of -prosperous peoples under perfect governments, if truth is -not dumb, she will say: This is the free, full and complete -answer to Henry Grady’s impassioned prayer while on -earth.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span><span class='c029'>SPEECHES.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span> - <h2 class='c012'>THE NEW SOUTH.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c030'><span class='sc'>ON the 21st of December, 1886, Mr. Grady, in -response to an urgent invitation, delivered -the following Address at the Banquet of the -New England Club, New York</span>:</p> -<p class='c023'>“There was a South of slavery and secession—that -South is dead. There is a South of union and freedom—that -South, thank God, is living, breathing, growing every -hour.” These words, delivered from the immortal lips of -Benjamin H. Hill, at Tammany Hall, in 1866, true then -and truer now, I shall make my text to-night.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. President and Gentlemen: Let me express to you -my appreciation of the kindness by which I am permitted -to address you. I make this abrupt acknowledgment advisedly, -for I feel that if, when I raise my provincial voice -in this ancient and august presence, I could find courage -for no more than the opening sentence, it would be well if -in that sentence I had met in a rough sense my obligation -as a guest, and had perished, so to speak, with courtesy on -my lips and grace in my heart. Permitted, through your -kindness, to catch my second wind, let me say that I appreciate -the significance of being the first Southerner to speak -at this board, which bears the substance, if it surpasses the -semblance, of original New England hospitality—and honors -the sentiment that in turn honors you, but in which -my personality is lost, and the compliment to my people -made plain.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I bespeak the utmost stretch of your courtesy to-night. -I am not troubled about those from whom I come. You -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>remember the man whose wife sent him to a neighbor with -a pitcher of milk, and who, tripping on the top step, fell -with such casual interruptions as the landings afforded -into the basement, and, while picking himself up, had the -pleasure of hearing his wife call out: “John, did you -break the pitcher?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“No, I didn’t,” said John, “but I’ll be dinged if I -don’t.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>So, while those who call me from behind may inspire -me with energy, if not with courage, I ask an indulgent -hearing from you. I beg that you will bring your full -faith in American fairness and frankness to judgment -upon what I shall say. There was an old preacher once -who told some boys of the Bible lesson he was going to -read in the morning. The boys, finding the place, glued -together the connecting pages. The next morning he read -on the bottom of one page, “When Noah was one hundred -and twenty years old he took unto himself a wife, who -was”—then turning the page—“140 cubits long—40 cubits -wide, built of gopher wood—and covered with pitch inside -and out.” He was naturally puzzled at this. He read it -again, verified it, and then said: “My friends, this is the -first time I ever met this in the Bible, but I accept this as -an evidence of the assertion that we are fearfully and -wonderfully made.” If I could get you to hold such -faith to-night I could proceed cheerfully to the task I -otherwise approach with a sense of consecration.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Pardon me one word, Mr. President, spoken for the -sole purpose of getting into the volumes that go out annually -freighted with the rich eloquence of your speakers—the -fact that the Cavalier as well as the Puritan was -on the continent in its early days, and that he was “up -and able to be about.” I have read your books carefully -and I find no mention of that fact, which seems to me an -important one for preserving a sort of historical equilibrium -if for nothing else.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let me remind you that the Virginia Cavalier first -challenged France on the continent—that Cavalier, John -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>Smith, gave New England its very name, and was so -pleased with the job that he has been handing his own -name around ever since—and that while Myles Standish -was cutting off men’s ears for courting a girl without her -parents’ consent, and forbade men to kiss their wives on -Sunday, the Cavalier was courting everything in sight, and -that the Almighty had vouchsafed great increase to the -Cavalier colonies, the huts in the wilderness being as full -as the nests in the woods.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But having incorporated the Cavalier as a fact in your -charming little books, I shall let him work out his own salvation, -as he has always done, with engaging gallantry, and -we will hold no controversy as to his merits. Why should -we? Neither Puritan nor Cavalier long survived as such. -The virtues and good traditions of both happily still live -for the inspiration of their sons and the saving of the old -fashion. But both Puritan and Cavalier were lost in the -storm of the first Revolution, and the American citizen, supplanting -both and stronger than either, took possession of -the republic bought by their common blood and fashioned -to wisdom, and charged himself with teaching men government -and establishing the voice of the people as the voice -of God.</p> - -<p class='c018'>My friends, Dr. Talmage has told you that the typical -American has yet to come. Let me tell you that he has -already come. Great types, like valuable plants, are slow -to flower and fruit. But from the union of these colonists, -Puritans and Cavaliers, from the straightening of their -purposes and the crossing of their blood, slow perfecting -through a century, came he who stands as the first typical -American, the first who comprehended within himself all -the strength and gentleness, all the majesty and grace of -this republic—Abraham Lincoln. He was the sum of Puritan -and Cavalier, for in his ardent nature were fused the -virtues of both, and in the depths of his great soul the -faults of both were lost. He was greater than Puritan, -greater than Cavalier, in that he was American, and that -in his honest form were first gathered the vast and thrilling -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>forces of his ideal government—charging it with such -tremendous meaning and elevating it above human suffering -that martyrdom, though infamously aimed, came as a -fitting crown to a life consecrated from the cradle to human -liberty. Let us, each cherishing the traditions and honoring -his fathers, build with reverent hands to the type of -this simple but sublime life, in which all types are honored, -and in our common glory as Americans there will be plenty -and to spare for your forefathers and for mine.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Dr. Talmage has drawn for you, with a master’s hand, -the picture of your returning armies. He has told you -how, in the pomp and circumstance of war, they came -back to you, marching with proud and victorious tread, -reading their glory in a nation’s eyes! Will you bear -with me while I tell you of another army that sought its -home at the close of the late war—an army that marched -home in defeat and not in victory—in pathos and not in -splendor, but in glory that equaled yours, and to hearts as -loving as ever welcomed heroes home! Let me picture to -you the footsore Confederate soldier, as buttoning up in -his faded gray jacket the parole which was to bear testimony -to his children of his fidelity and faith, he turned his -face southward from Appomattox in April, 1865. Think -of him as ragged, half-starved, heavy-hearted, enfeebled -by want and wounds, having fought to exhaustion, he surrenders -his gun, wrings the hands of his comrades in -silence, and lifting his tear-stained and pallid face for the -last time to the graves that dot old Virginia hills, pulls -his gray cap over his brow and begins the slow and painful -journey. What does he find—let me ask you who went -to your homes eager to find, in the welcome you had -justly earned, full payment for four years’ sacrifice—what -does he find when, having followed the battle-stained cross -against overwhelming odds, dreading death not half so -much as surrender, he reaches the home he left so prosperous -and beautiful? He finds his house in ruins, his farm -devastated, his slaves free, his stock killed, his barns -empty, his trade destroyed, his money worthless, his social -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>system, feudal in its magnificence, swept away; his people -without law or legal status; his comrades slain, and -the burdens of others heavy on his shoulders. Crushed -by defeat, his very traditions are gone. Without money, -credit, employment, material, or training; and beside all -this, confronted with the gravest problem that ever met -human intelligence—the establishing of a status for the -vast body of his liberated slaves.</p> - -<p class='c018'>What does he do—this hero in gray with a heart of -gold? Does he sit down in sullenness and despair? Not -for a day. Surely God, who had stripped him of his prosperity, -inspired him in his adversity. As ruin was never -before so overwhelming, never was restoration swifter. -The soldier stepped from the trenches into the furrow; -horses that had charged Federal guns marched before the -plow, and fields that ran red with human blood in April -were green with the harvest in June; women reared in -luxury cut up their dresses and made breeches for their -husbands, and, with a patience and heroism that fit women -always as a garment, gave their hands to work. There -was little bitterness in all this. Cheerfulness and frankness -prevailed. “Bill Arp” struck the key-note when he -said: “Well, I killed as many of them as they did of me, -and now I’m going to work.” Of the soldier returning -home after defeat and roasting some corn on the roadside, -who made the remark to his comrades: “You may leave -the South if you want to, but I am going to Sandersville, -kiss my wife and raise a crop, and if the Yankees fool with -me any more, I’ll whip ’em again.” I want to say to -General Sherman, who is considered an able man in our -parts, though some people think he is a kind of careless -man about fire, that from the ashes he left us in 1864 we -have raised a brave and beautiful city; that somehow or -other we have caught the sunshine in the bricks and mortar -of our homes, and have builded therein not one ignoble -prejudice or memory.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But what is the sum of our work? We have found out -that in the summing up the free negro counts more than he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>did as a slave. We have planted the schoolhouse on the -hilltop and made it free to white and black. We have -sowed towns and cities in the place of theories, and put business -above politics. We have challenged your spinners in -Massachusetts and your iron-makers in Pennsylvania. We -have learned that the $400,000,000 annually received from -our cotton crop will make us rich when the supplies that -make it are home-raised. We have reduced the commercial -rate of interest from 24 to 6 per cent., and are floating 4 per -cent. bonds. We have learned that one northern immigrant -is worth fifty foreigners; and have smoothed the path to -southward, wiped out the place where Mason and Dixon’s -line used to be, and hung out latchstring to you and yours. -We have reached the point that marks perfect harmony in -every household, when the husband confesses that the pies -which his wife cooks are as good as those his mother used -to bake; and we admit that the sun shines as brightly and -the moon as softly as it did before the war. We have -established thrift in city and country. We have fallen in -love with work. We have restored comfort to homes from -which culture and elegance never departed. We have let -economy take root and spread among us as rank as the crabgrass -which sprung from Sherman’s cavalry camps, until -we are ready to lay odds on the Georgia Yankee as he manufactures -relics of the battle-field in a one-story shanty and -squeezes pure olive oil out of his cotton seed, against any -down-easter that ever swapped wooden nutmegs for flannel -sausage in the valleys of Vermont. Above all, we know that -we have achieved in these “piping times of peace” a fuller -independence for the South than that which our fathers -sought to win in the forum by their eloquence or compel in -the field by their swords.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is a rare privilege, sir, to have had part, however -humble, in this work. Never was nobler duty confided to -human hands than the uplifting and upbuilding of the -prostrate and bleeding South—misguided, perhaps, but -beautiful in her suffering, and honest, brave and generous -always. In the record of her social, industrial and political -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>illustration we await with confidence the verdict of the -world.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But what of the negro? Have we solved the problem -he presents or progressed in honor and equity toward solution? -Let the record speak to the point. No section -shows a more prosperous laboring population than the -negroes of the South, none in fuller sympathy with the employing -and land-owning class. He shares our school fund, -has the fullest protection of our laws and the friendship -of our people. Self-interest, as well as honor, demand -that he should have this. Our future, our very existence -depend upon our working out this problem in full -and exact justice. We understand that when Lincoln -signed the emancipation proclamation, your victory was -assured, for he then committed you to the cause of human -liberty, against which the arms of man cannot prevail—while -those of our statesmen who trusted to make -slavery the corner-stone of the Confederacy doomed us to -defeat as far as they could, committing us to a cause that -reason could not defend or the sword maintain in sight -of advancing civilization.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Had Mr. Toombs said, which he did not say, “that he -would call the roll of his slaves at the foot of Bunker -Hill,” he would have been foolish, for he might have -known that whenever slavery became entangled in war it -must perish, and that the chattel in human flesh ended -forever in New England when your fathers—not to be -blamed for parting with what didn’t pay—sold their slaves -to our fathers—not to be praised for knowing a paying -thing when they saw it. The relations of the southern -people with the negro are close and cordial. We remember -with what fidelity for four years he guarded our defenseless -women and children, whose husbands and fathers -were fighting against his freedom. To his eternal credit -be it said that whenever he struck a blow for his own liberty -he fought in open battle, and when at last he raised -his black and humble hands that the shackles might be -struck off, those hands were innocent of wrong against his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>helpless charges, and worthy to be taken in loving grasp -by every man who honors loyalty and devotion. Ruffians -have maltreated him, rascals have misled him, philanthropists -established a bank for him, but the South, with the -North, protests against injustice to this simple and sincere -people. To liberty and enfranchisement is as far as law -can carry the negro. The rest must be left to conscience -and common sense. It must be left to those among whom -his lot is cast, with whom he is indissolubly connected, and -whose prosperity depends upon their possessing his intelligent -sympathy and confidence. Faith has been kept with -him, in spite of calumnious assertions to the contrary by -those who assume to speak for us or by frank opponents. -Faith will be kept with him in the future, if the South -holds her reason and integrity.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But have we kept faith with you? In the fullest sense, -yes. When Lee surrendered—I don’t say when Johnson -surrendered, because I understand he still alludes to the -time when he met General Sherman last as the time when -he determined to abandon any further prosecution of the -struggle—when Lee surrendered, I say, and Johnson quit, -the South became, and has since been, loyal to this Union. -We fought hard enough to know that we were whipped, -and in perfect frankness accept as final the arbitrament of -the sword to which we had appealed. The South found -her jewel in the toad’s head of defeat. The shackles that -had held her in narrow limitations fell forever when the -shackles of the negro slave were broken. Under the old -régime the negroes were slaves to the South; the South was -a slave to the system. The old plantation, with its simple -police regulations and feudal habit, was the only type possible -under slavery. Thus was gathered in the hands of a -splendid and chivalric oligarchy the substance that should -have been diffused among the people, as the rich blood, -under certain artificial conditions, is gathered at the heart, -filling that with affluent rapture but leaving the body chill -and colorless.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The old South rested everything on slavery and agriculture, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>unconscious that these could neither give nor maintain -healthy growth. The new South presents a perfect democracy, -the oligarchs leading in the popular movement—a -social system compact and closely knitted, less splendid -on the surface, but stronger at the core—a hundred farms -for every plantation, fifty homes for every palace—and a -diversified industry that meets the complex need of this -complex age.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The new South is enamored of her new work. Her soul -is stirred with the breath of a new life. The light of a -grander day is falling fair on her face. She is thrilling -with the consciousness of growing power and prosperity. -As she stands upright, full-statured and equal among the -people of the earth, breathing the keen air and looking -out upon the expanded horizon, she understands that her -emancipation came because through the inscrutable wisdom -of God her honest purpose was crossed, and her brave -armies were beaten.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This is said in no spirit of time-serving or apology. The -South has nothing for which to apologize. She believes -that the late struggle between the States was war and not -rebellion; revolution and not conspiracy, and that her convictions -were as honest as yours. I should be unjust to -the dauntless spirit of the South and to my own convictions -if I did not make this plain in this presence. The South -has nothing to take back. In my native town of Athens is -a monument that crowns its central hill—a plain, white -shaft. Deep cut into its shining side is a name dear to me -above the names of men—that of a brave and simple man -who died in brave and simple faith. Not for all the glories -of New England, from Plymouth Rock all the way, would -I exchange the heritage he left me in his soldier’s death. -To the foot of that I shall send my children’s children to -reverence him who ennobled their name with his heroic -blood. But, sir, speaking from the shadow of that memory -which I honor as I do nothing else on earth, I say that the -cause in which he suffered and for which he gave his life -was adjudged by higher and fuller wisdom than his or -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>mine, and I am glad that the omniscient God held the -balance of battle in His Almighty hand and that human -slavery was swept forever from American soil, the American -Union was saved from the wreck of war.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This message, Mr. President, comes to you from consecrated -ground. Every foot of soil about the city in which -I live is as sacred as a battle-ground of the republic. Every -hill that invests it is hallowed to you by the blood of your -brothers who died for your victory, and doubly hallowed -to us by the blow of those who died hopeless, but undaunted, -in defeat—sacred soil to all of us—rich with memories -that make us purer and stronger and better—silent -but staunch witnesses in its red desolation of the matchless -valor of American hearts and the deathless glory of American -arms—speaking an eloquent witness in its white peace -and prosperity to the indissoluble union of American States -and the imperishable brotherhood of the American people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, what answer has New England to this message? -Will she permit the prejudice of war to remain in the -hearts of the conquerors, when it has died in the hearts of -the conquered? Will she transmit this prejudice to the -next generation, that in their hearts which never felt the -generous ardor of conflict it may perpetuate itself? Will -she withhold, save in strained courtesy, the hand which -straight from his soldier’s heart Grant offered to Lee at -Appomattox? Will she make the vision of a restored and -happy people, which gathered above the couch of your -dying captain, filling his heart with grace; touching his -lips with praise, and glorifying his path to the grave—will -she make this vision on which the last sigh of his -expiring soul breathed a benediction, a cheat and delusion? -If she does, the South, never abject in asking for -comradeship, must accept with dignity its refusal; but if -she does not refuse to accept in frankness and sincerity -this message of good will and friendship, then will the -prophecy of Webster, delivered in this very society forty -years ago amid tremendous applause, become true, be verified -in its fullest sense, when he said: “Standing hand to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>hand and clasping hands, we should remain united as we -have been for sixty years, citizens of the same country, -members of the same government, united, all united now -and united forever.” There have been difficulties, contentions, -and controversies, but I tell you that in my -judgment,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in14'>“Those opened eyes,</div> - <div class='line'>Which like the meteors of a troubled heaven,</div> - <div class='line'>All of one nature, of one substance bred,</div> - <div class='line'>Did lately meet in th’ intestine shock,</div> - <div class='line'>Shall now, in mutual well beseeming ranks,</div> - <div class='line'>March all one way.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span> - <h2 class='c012'>THE SOUTH AND HER PROBLEMS.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_70 c017'><span class='sc'>AT the Dallas, Texas, State Fair, on the 26th of -October, 1887, Mr. Grady was the Orator of -the Day. He said</span>:</p> -<p class='c021'>“Who saves his country, saves all things, and all things saved will -bless him. Who lets his country die, lets all things die, and all things -dying curse him.”</p> - -<p class='c023'>These words are graven on the statue of Benjamin H. -Hill in the city of Atlanta, and in their spirit I shall speak -to you to-day.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. President and Fellow-Citizens: I salute the first -city of the grandest State of the greatest government on -this earth. In paying earnest compliment to this thriving -city, and this generous multitude, I need not cumber -speech with argument or statistics. It is enough to say -that my friends and myself make obeisance this morning to -the chief metropolis of the State of Texas. If it but holds -this pre-eminence—and who can doubt in this auspicious -presence that it will—the uprising tides of Texas’s prosperity -will carry it to glories unspeakable. For I say in -soberness, the future of this marvelous and amazing empire, -that gives broader and deeper significance to statehood -by accepting its modest naming, the mind of man -can neither measure nor comprehend.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I shall be pardoned for resisting the inspiration of -this presence and adhering to-day to blunt and rigorous -speech—for there are times when fine words are paltry, and -this seems to me to be such a time. So I shall turn away -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>from the thunders of the political battle upon which every -American hangs intent, and repress the ardor that at this -time rises in every American heart—for there are issues -that strike deeper than any political theory has reached, -and conditions of which partisanry has taken, and can -take, but little account. Let me, therefore, with studied -plainness, and with such precision as is possible—in a -spirit of fraternity that is broader than party limitations, -and deeper than political motive—discuss with you certain -problems upon the wise and prompt solution of which -depends the glory and prosperity of the South.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But why—for let us make our way slowly—why “the -South.” In an indivisible union—in a republic against the -integrity of which sword shall never be drawn or mortal -hand uplifted, and in which the rich blood gathering at -the common heart is sent throbbing into every part of the -body politic—why is one section held separated from the -rest in alien consideration? We can understand why this -should be so in a city that has a community of local interests; -or in a State still clothed in that sovereignty of -which the debates of peace and the storm of war has not -stripped her. But why should a number of States, stretching -from Richmond to Galveston, bound together by no -local interests, held in no autonomy, be thus combined and -drawn to a common center? That man would be absurd -who declaimed in Buffalo against the wrongs of the Middle -States, or who demanded in Chicago a convention for the -West to consider the needs of that section. If then it be -provincialism that holds the South together, let us outgrow -it; if it be sectionalism, let us root it out of our hearts; -but if it be something deeper than these and essential to -our system, let us declare it with frankness, consider it -with respect, defend it with firmness, and in dignity abide -its consequence. What is it that holds the southern -States—though true in thought and deed to the Union—so -closely bound in sympathy to-day? For a century these -States championed a governmental theory—but that, having -triumphed in every forum, fell at last by the sword. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>They maintained an institution—but that, having been administered -in the fullest wisdom of man, fell at last in the -higher wisdom of God. They fought a war—but the prejudices -of that war have died, its sympathies have broadened, -and its memories are already the priceless treasure of -the republic that is cemented forever with its blood. They -looked out together upon the ashes of their homes and the -desolation of their fields—but out of pitiful resource they -have fashioned their homes anew, and plenty rides on the -springing harvests. In all the past there is nothing to -draw them into essential or lasting alliance—nothing in all -that heroic record that cannot be rendered unfearing from -provincial hands into the keeping of American history.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But the future holds a problem, in solving which the -South must stand alone; in dealing with which, she must -come closer together than ambition or despair have driven -her, and on the outcome of which her very existence depends. -This problem is to carry within her body politic -two separate races, and nearly equal in numbers. She -must carry these races in peace—for discord means ruin. -She must carry them separately—for assimilation means -debasement. She must carry them in equal justice—for to -this she is pledged in honor and in gratitude. She must -carry them even unto the end, for in human probability -she will never be quit of either.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This burden no other people bears to-day—on none -hath it ever rested. Without precedent or companionship, -the South must bear this problem, the awful responsibility -of which should win the sympathy of all human -kind, and the protecting watchfulness of God—alone, even -unto the end. Set by this problem apart from all other -peoples of the earth, and her unique position emphasized -rather than relieved, as I shall show hereafter, by her -material conditions, it is not only fit but it is essential that -she should hold her brotherhood unimpaired, quicken her -sympathies, and in the light or in the shadows of this surpassing -problem work out her own salvation in the fear of -God—but of God alone.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>What shall the South do to be saved? Through what -paths shall she reach the end? Through what travail, or -what splendors, shall she give to the Union this section, its -wealth garnered, its resources utilized, and its rehabilitation -complete—and restore to the world this problem solved -in such justice as the finite mind can measure, or finite -hands administer?</p> - -<p class='c018'>In dealing with this I shall dwell on two points.</p> - -<p class='c018'>First, the duty of the South in its relation to the race -problem.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Second, the duty of the South in relation to its no less -unique and important industrial problem.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I approach this discussion with a sense of consecration. -I beg your patient and cordial sympathy. And I invoke -the Almighty God, that having showered on this people His -fullest riches has put their hands to this task, that He will -draw near unto us, as He drew near to troubled Israel, and -lead us in the ways of honor and uprightness, even through -a pillar of cloud by day, and a pillar of fire by night.</p> - -<p class='c018'>What of the negro? This of him. I want no better -friend than the black boy who was raised by my side, and -who is now trudging patiently with downcast eyes and -shambling figure through his lowly way in life. I want -no sweeter music than the crooning of my old “mammy,” -now dead and gone to rest, as I heard it when she held -me in her loving arms, and bending her old black face -above me stole the cares from my brain, and led me smiling -into sleep. I want no truer soul than that which moved -the trusty slave, who for four years while my father fought -with the armies that barred his freedom, slept every night -at my mother’s chamber door, holding her and her children -as safe as if her husband stood guard, and ready to lay -down his humble life on her threshold. History has no -parallel to the faith kept by the negro in the South during -the war. Often five hundred negroes to a single white man, -and yet through these dusky throngs the women and children -walked in safety, and the unprotected homes rested in -peace. Unmarshaled, the black battalions moved patiently -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>to the fields in the morning to feed the armies their idleness -would have starved, and at night gathered anxiously -at the big house to “hear the news from marster,” though -conscious that his victory made their chains enduring. -Everywhere humble and kindly; the bodyguard of the -helpless; the rough companion of the little ones; the -observant friend; the silent sentry in his lowly cabin; the -shrewd counselor. And when the dead came home, a -mourner at the open grave. A thousand torches would -have disbanded every Southern army, but not one was -lighted. When the master going to a war in which slavery -was involved said to his slave, “I leave my home and loved -ones in your charge,” the tenderness between man and master -stood disclosed. And when the slave held that charge -sacred through storm and temptation, he gave new meaning -to faith and loyalty. I rejoice that when freedom came to -him after years of waiting, it was all the sweeter because the -black hands from which the shackles fell were stainless of a -single crime against the helpless ones confided to his care.</p> - -<p class='c018'>From this root, imbedded in a century of kind and constant -companionship, has sprung some foliage. As no -race had ever lived in such unresisting bondage, none was -ever hurried with such swiftness through freedom into -power. Into hands still trembling from the blow that -broke the shackles, was thrust the ballot. In less than -twelve months from the day he walked down the furrow a -slave, the negro dictated in legislative halls from which -Davis and Calhoun had gone forth, the policy of twelve -commonwealths. When his late master protested against -his misrule, the federal drum-beat rolled around his strong-holds, -and from a hedge of federal bayonets he grinned in -good-natured insolence. From the proven incapacity of -that day has he far advanced? Simple, credulous, impulsive—easily -led and too often easily bought, is he a safer, -more intelligent citizen now than then? Is this mass of -votes, loosed from old restraints, inviting alliance or awaiting -opportunity, less menacing than when its purpose was -plain and its way direct?</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>My countrymen, right here the South must make a -decision on which very much depends. Many wise men -hold that the white vote of the South should divide, the -color line be beaten down, and the southern States ranged -on economic or moral questions as interest or belief demands. -I am compelled to dissent from this view. The -worst thing in my opinion that could happen is that the -white people of the South should stand in opposing factions, -with the vast mass of ignorant or purchasable negro votes -between. Consider such a status. If the negroes were -skillfully led,—and leaders would not be lacking,—it would -give them the balance of power—a thing not to be considered. -If their vote was not compacted, it would invite -the debauching bid of factions, and drift surely to that -which was the most corrupt and cunning. With the shiftless -habit and irresolution of slavery days still possessing -him, the negro voter will not in this generation, adrift from -war issues, become a steadfast partisan through conscience -or conviction. In every community there are colored men -who redeem their race from this reproach, and who vote -under reason. Perhaps in time the bulk of this race may -thus adjust itself. But, through what long and monstrous -periods of political debauchery this status would be -reached, no tongue can tell.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The clear and unmistakable domination of the white -race, dominating not through violence, not through party -alliance, but through the integrity of its own vote and the -largeness of its sympathy and justice through which it -shall compel the support of the better classes of the -colored race,—that is the hope and assurance of the South. -Otherwise, the negro would be bandied from one faction to -another. His credulity would be played upon, his cupidity -tempted, his impulses misdirected, his passions inflamed. -He would be forever in alliance with that faction -which was most desperate and unscrupulous. Such a state -would be worse than reconstruction, for then intelligence -was banded, and its speedy triumph assured. But with -intelligence and property divided—bidding and overbidding -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>for place and patronage—irritation increasing with -each conflict—the bitterness and desperation seizing every -heart—political debauchery deepening, as each faction -staked its all in the miserable game—there would be no -end to this, until our suffrage was hopelessly sullied, our -people forever divided, and our most sacred rights surrendered.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One thing further should be said in perfect frankness. -Up to this point we have dealt with ignorance and corruption—but -beyond this point a deeper issue confronts us. -Ignorance may struggle to enlightenment, out of corruption -may come the incorruptible. God speed the day -when,—every true man will work and pray for its coming,—the -negro must be led to know and through sympathy to -confess that his interests and the interests of the people of -the South are identical. The men who, from afar off, view -this subject through the cold eye of speculation or see it -distorted through partisan glasses, insist that, directly or -indirectly, the negro race shall be in control of the affairs -of the South. We have no fears of this; already we are -attaching to us the best elements of that race, and as we -proceed our alliance will broaden; external pressure but -irritates and impedes. Those who would put the negro race -in supremacy would work against infallible decree, for the -white race can never submit to its domination, because the -white race is the superior race. But the supremacy of the -white race of the South must be maintained forever, and -the domination of the negro race resisted at all points and -at all hazards—because the white race is the superior race. -This is the declaration of no new truth. It has abided -forever in the marrow of our bones, and shall run forever -with the blood that feeds Anglo-Saxon hearts.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In political compliance the South has evaded the truth, -and men have drifted from their convictions. But we cannot -escape this issue. It faces us wherever we turn. It is -an issue that has been, and will be. The races and tribes -of earth are of Divine origin. Behind the laws of man and -the decrees of war, stands the law of God. What God hath -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>separated let no man join together. The Indian, the Malay, -the Negro, the Caucasian, these types stand as markers -of God’s will. Let not man tinker with the work of the -Almighty. Unity of civilization, no more than unity of -faith, will never be witnessed on earth. No race has risen, -or will rise, above its ordained place. Here is the pivotal -fact of this great matter—two races are made equal in law, -and in political rights, between whom the caste of race has -set an impassable gulf. This gulf is bridged by a statute, -and the races are urged to cross thereon. This cannot be. -The fiat of the Almighty has gone forth, and in eighteen -centuries of history it is written. We would escape this -issue if we could. From the depths of its soul the South -invokes from heaven “peace on earth, and good will to -man.” She would not, if she could, cast this race back into -the condition from which it was righteously raised. She -would not deny its smallest or abridge its fullest privilege. -Not to lift this burden forever from her people, would she -do the least of these things. She must walk through the -valley of the shadow, for God has so ordained. But he has -ordained that she shall walk in that integrity of race, that -created in His wisdom has been perpetuated in His strength. -Standing in the presence of this multitude, sobered with -the responsibility of the message I deliver to the young -men of the South, I declare that the truth above all others -to be worn unsullied and sacred in your hearts, to be surrendered -to no force, sold for no price, compromised in no -necessity, but cherished and defended as the covenant of -your prosperity, and the pledge of peace to your children, -is that the white race must dominate forever in the South, -because it is the white race, and superior to that race by -which its supremacy is threatened.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is a race issue. Let us come to this point, and stand -here. Here the air is pure and the light is clear, and here -honor and peace abide. Juggling and evasion deceives not -a man. Compromise and subservience has carried not a -point. There is not a white man North or South who does -not feel it stir in the gray matter of his brain and throb in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>his heart. Not a negro who does not feel its power. It is -not a sectional issue. It speaks in Ohio, and in Georgia. -It speaks wherever the Anglo-Saxon touches an alien race. -It has just spoken in universally approved legislation in -excluding the Chinaman from our gates, not for his ignorance, -vice or corruption, but because he sought to establish -an inferior race in a republic fashioned in the wisdom -and defended by the blood of a homogeneous people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The Anglo-Saxon blood has dominated always and -everywhere. It fed Alfred when he wrote the charter of -English liberty; it gathered about Hampden as he stood -beneath the oak; it thundered in Cromwell’s veins as he -fought his king; it humbled Napoleon at Waterloo; it has -touched the desert and jungle with undying glory; it carried -the drumbeat of England around the world and spread -on every continent the gospel of liberty and of God: it -established this republic, carved it from the wilderness, -conquered it from the Indians, wrested it from England, -and at last, stilling its own tumult, consecrated it forever -as the home of the Anglo-Saxon, and the theater of his -transcending achievement. Never one foot of it can be -surrendered while that blood lives in American veins, -and feeds American hearts, to the domination of an alien -and inferior race.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And yet that is just what is proposed. Not in twenty -years have we seen a day so pregnant with fate to this section -as the sixth of next November. If President Cleveland -is then defeated, which God forbid, I believe these -States will be led through sorrows compared to which the -woes of reconstruction will be as the fading dews of morning -to the roaring flood. To dominate these States through -the colored vote, with such aid as federal patronage may -debauch or federal power deter, and thus through its -chosen instruments perpetuate its rule, is in my opinion the -settled purpose of the Republican party. I am appalled -when I measure the passion in which this negro problem -is judged by the leaders of the party. Fifteen years ago -Vice-President Wilson said—and I honor his memory as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>that of a courageous man: “We shall not have finished -with the South until we force its people to change their -thought, and think as we think.” I repeat these words, -for I heard them when a boy, and they fell on my ears as -the knell of my people’s rights—“to change their thought, -and make them think as we think.” Not enough to have -conquered our armies—to have decimated our ranks, to -have desolated our fields and reduced us to poverty, to -have struck the ballot from our hands and enfranchised -our slaves—to have held us prostrate under bayonets while -the insolent mocked and thieves plundered—but their very -souls must be rifled of their faiths, their sacred traditions -cudgeled from memory, and their immortal minds beaten -into subjection until thought had lost its integrity, and -we were forced “to think as they think.” And just -now General Sherman has said, and I honor him as a -soldier:</p> - -<p class='c021'>“The negro must be allowed to vote, and his vote must be counted; -otherwise, so sure as there is a God in heaven, you will have another -war, more cruel than the last, when the torch and dagger will take -the place of the muskets of well-ordered battalions. Should the negro -strike that blow, in seeming justice, there will be millions to assist -them.”</p> - -<p class='c023'>And this General took Johnston’s sword in surrender! -He looked upon the thin and ragged battalions in gray, -that for four years had held his teeming and heroic legions -at bay. Facing them, he read their courage in their depleted -ranks, and gave them a soldier’s parole. When he -found it in his heart to taunt these heroes with this threat, -why—careless as he was twenty years ago with fire, he is -even more careless now with his words. If we could hope -that this problem would be settled within our lives I would -appeal from neither madness nor unmanliness. But when -I know that, strive as I may, I must at last render this -awful heritage into the untried hands of my son, already -dearer to me than my life, and that he must in turn bequeath -it unsolved to his children, I cry out against the -inhumanity that deepens its difficulties with this incendiary -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>threat, and beclouds its real issue with inflaming -passion.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This problem is not only enduring, but it is widening. -The exclusion of the Chinese is the first step in the revolution -that shall save liberty and law and religion to this -land, and in peace and order, not enforced on the gallows -or at the bayonet’s end, but proceeding from the heart of -an harmonious people, shall secure in the enjoyment of -these rights, and the control of this republic, the homogeneous -people that established and has maintained it. The -next step will be taken when some brave statesman, looking -Demagogy in the face, shall move to call to the stranger -at our gates, “Who comes here?” admitting every man -who seeks a home, or honors our institutions, and whose -habit and blood will run with the native current; but excluding -all who seek to plant anarchy or to establish alien -men or measures on our soil; and will then demand that -the standard of our citizenship be lifted and the right of -acquiring our suffrage be abridged. When that day -comes, and God speed its coming, the position of the South -will be fully understood, and everywhere approved. Until -then, let us—giving the negro every right, civil and -political, measured in that fullness the strong should always -accord the weak—holding him in closer friendship -and sympathy than he is held by those who would crucify -us for his sake—realizing that on his prosperity ours -depends—let us resolve that never by external pressure, or -internal division, shall he establish domination, directly or -indirectly, over that race that everywhere has maintained -its supremacy. Let this resolution be cast on the lines of -equity and justice. Let it be the pledge of honest, safe -and impartial administration, and we shall command the -support of the colored race itself, more dependent than any -other on the bounty and protection of government. Let -us be wise and patient, and we shall secure through its -acquiescence what otherwise we should win through conflict, -and hold in insecurity.</p> - -<p class='c018'>All this is no unkindness to the negro—but rather that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>he may be led in equal rights and in peace to his uttermost -good. Not in sectionalism—for my heart beats true -to the Union, to the glory of which your life and heart is -pledged. Not in disregard of the world’s opinion—for to -render back this problem in the world’s approval is the -sum of my ambition, and the height of human achievement. -Not in reactionary spirit—but rather to make clear -that new and grander way up which the South is marching -to higher destiny, and on which I would not halt her for -all the spoils that have been gathered unto parties since -Catiline conspired, and Cæsar fought. Not in passion, -my countrymen, but in reason—not in narrowness, but in -breadth—that we may solve this problem in calmness and -in truth, and lifting its shadows let perpetual sunshine -pour down on two races, walking together in peace and -contentment. Then shall this problem have proved our -blessing, and the race that threatened our ruin work our -salvation as it fills our fields with the best peasantry the -world has ever seen. Then the South—putting behind her -all the achievements of her past—and in war and in -peace they beggar eulogy—may stand upright among the -nations and challenge the judgment of man and the approval -of God, in having worked out in their sympathy, -and in His guidance, this last and surpassing miracle of -human government.</p> - -<p class='c018'>What of the South’s industrial problem? When we -remember that amazement followed the payment by thirty-seven -million Frenchmen of a billion dollars indemnity to -Germany, that the five million whites of the South rendered -to the torch and sword three billions of property—that -thirty million dollars a year, or six hundred million -dollars in twenty years, has been given willingly of our -poverty as pensions for Northern soldiers, the wonder is -that we are here at all. There is a figure with which history -has dealt lightly, but that, standing pathetic and -heroic in the genesis of our new growth, has interested me -greatly—our soldier-farmer of ’65. What chance had he -for the future as he wandered amid his empty barns, his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>stock, labor, and implements gone—gathered up the fragments -of his wreck—urging kindly his borrowed mule—paying -sixty per cent. for all that he bought, and buying -all on credit—his crop mortgaged before it was planted—his -children in want, his neighborhood in chaos—working -under new conditions and retrieving every error by a costly -year—plodding all day down the furrow, hopeless and -adrift, save when at night he went back to his broken -home, where his wife, cheerful even then, renewed his -courage, while she ministered to him in loving tenderness. -Who would have thought as during those lonely and terrible -days he walked behind the plow, locking the sunshine -in the glory of his harvest, and spreading the showers and -the verdure of his field—no friend near save nature that -smiled at his earnest touch, and God that sent him the -message of good cheer through the passing breeze and the -whispering leaves—that he would in twenty years, having -carried these burdens uncomplaining, make a crop of -$800,000,000. Yet this he has done, and from his bounty -the South has rebuilded her cities, and recouped her losses. -While we exult in his splendid achievement, let us take -account of his standing.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Whence this enormous growth? For ten years the -world has been at peace. The pioneer has now replaced -the soldier. Commerce has whitened new seas, and the -merchant has occupied new areas. Steam has made of the -earth a chess-board, on which men play for markets. -Our western wheat-grower competes in London with the -Russian and the East Indian. The Ohio wool grower -watches the Australian shepherd, and the bleat of the now -historic sheep of Vermont is answered from the steppes of -Asia. The herds that emerge from the dust of your amazing -prairies might hear in their pauses the hoof-beats of -antipodean herds marching to meet them. Under Holland’s -dykes, the cheese and butter makers fight American -dairies. The hen cackles around the world. California -challenges vine-clad France. The dark continent is disclosed -through meshes of light. There is competition -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>everywhere. The husbandman, driven from his market, -balances price against starvation, and undercuts his rival. -This conflict often runs to panic, and profit vanishes. The -Iowa farmer burning his corn for fuel is not an unusual -type.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Amid this universal conflict, where stands the South? -While the producer of everything we eat or wear, in every -land, is fighting through glutted markets for bare existence, -what of the southern farmer? In his industrial as -in his political problem he is set apart—not in doubt, but -in assured independence. Cotton makes him king. Not -the fleeces that Jason sought can rival the richness of this -plant, as it unfurls its banners in our fields. It is gold -from the instant it puts forth its tiny shoot. The shower -that whispers to it is heard around the world. The trespass -of a worm on its green leaf means more to England -than the advance of the Russians on her Asiatic outposts. -When its fibre, current in every bank, is marketed, it -renders back to the South $350,000,000 every year. Its -seed will yield $60,000,000 worth of oil to the press and -$40,000,000 in food for soil and beast, making the stupendous -total of $450,000,000 annual income from this crop. -And now, under the Tompkins patent, from its stalk—news -paper is to be made at two cents per pound. Edward -Atkinson once said: “If New England could grow the -cotton plant, without lint, it would make her richest crop; -if she held monopoly of cotton lint and seed she would control -the commerce of the world.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>But is our monopoly, threatened from Egypt, India and -Brazil, sure and permanent? Let the record answer. In -’72 the American supply of cotton was 3,241,000 bales,—foreign -supply 3,036,000. We led our rivals by less than -200,000 bales. This year the American supply is 8,000,000 -bales—from foreign sources, 2,100,000, expressed in bales -of four hundred pounds each. In spite of new areas elsewhere, -of fuller experience, of better transportation, and -unlimited money spent in experiment, the supply of foreign -cotton has decreased since ’72 nearly 1,000,000 bales, while -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>that of the South has increased nearly 5,000,000. Further -than this: Since 1872, population in Europe has increased 13 -per cent., and cotton consumption in Europe has increased -50 per cent. Still further: Since 1880 cotton consumption -in Europe has increased 28 per cent., wool only 4 per cent., -and flax has decreased 11 per cent. As for new areas, the -uttermost missionary woos the heathen with a cotton shirt -in one hand and the Bible in the other, and no savage I -believe has ever been converted to one, without adopting -the other. To summarize: Our American fibre has increased -its product nearly three-fold, while it has seen the -product of its rival decrease one-third. It has enlarged -its dominion in the old centers of population, supplanting -flax and wool, and it peeps from the satchel of every business -and religious evangelist that trots the globe. In three -years the American crop has increased 1,400,000 bales, and -yet there is less cotton in the world to-day than at any time -for twenty years. The dominion of our king is established; -this princely revenue assured, not for a year, but for all -time. It is the heritage that God gave us when he arched -our skies, established our mountains, girt us about with -the ocean, tempered the sunshine, and measured the rain—ours -and our children’s forever.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Not alone in cotton, but in iron, does the South excel. -The Hon. Mr. Norton, who honors this platform with his -presence, once said to me: “An Englishman of the highest -character predicted that the Atlantic will be whitened -within our lives with sails carrying American iron and coal -to England.” When he made that prediction the English -miners were exhausting the coal in long tunnels above which -the ocean thundered. Having ores and coal stored in exhaustless -quantity, in such richness, and in such adjustment, -that iron can be made and manufacturing done -cheaper than elsewhere on this continent, is to now command, -and at last control, the world’s market for iron. -The South now sells iron, through Pittsburg, in New York. -She has driven Scotch iron first from the interior, and -finally from American ports. Within our lives she will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>cross the Atlantic, and fulfill the Englishman’s prophecy. -In 1880 the South made 212,000 tons of iron. In 1887, 845,000 -tons. She is now actually building, or has finished this -year, furnaces that will produce more than her entire product -of last year. Birmingham alone will produce more -iron in 1889 than the entire South produced in 1887. Our -coal supply is exhaustless, Texas alone having 6000 square -miles. In marble and granite we have no rivals, as to quantity -or quality. In lumber our riches are even vaster. -More than fifty per cent. of our entire area is in forests, -making the South the best timbered region of the world. -We have enough merchantable yellow pine to bring, in -money, $2,500,000,000—a sum the vastness of which can -only be understood when I say it nearly equaled the assessed -value of the entire South, including cities, forests, -farms, mines, factories and personal property of every -description whatsoever. Back of this our forests of hard -woods, and measureless swamps of cypress and gum. -Think of it. In cotton a monopoly. In iron and coal establishing -swift mastery. In granite and marble developing -equal advantage and resource. In yellow pine and hard -woods the world’s treasury. Surely the basis of the South’s -wealth and power is laid by the hand of the Almighty God, -and its prosperity has been established by divine law which -work in eternal justice and not by taxes levied on its neighbors -through human statutes. Paying tribute for fifty years -that under artificial conditions other sections might reach -a prosperity impossible under natural laws, it has grown -apace—and its growth shall endure if its people are ruled -by two maxims, that reach deeper than legislative enactment, -and the operation of which cannot be limited by artificial -restraint, and but little hastened by artificial stimulus.</p> - -<p class='c018'>First. No one crop will make a people prosperous. If -cotton held its monopoly under conditions that made other -crops impossible—or under allurements that made other -crops exceptional—its dominion would be despotism.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Whenever the greed for a money crop unbalances the -wisdom of husbandry, the money crop is a curse. When -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>it stimulates the general economy of the farm, it is the profiting -of farming. In an unprosperous strip of Carolina, -when asked the cause of their poverty, the people say, -“Tobacco—for it is our only crop.” In Lancaster, Pa., the -richest American county by the census, when asked the -cause of their prosperity, they say, “Tobacco—for it is the -golden crown of a diversified agriculture.” The soil that -produces cotton invites the grains and grasses, the orchard -and the vine. Clover, corn, cotton, wheat, and barley -thrive in the same inclosure; the peach, the apple, the -apricot, and the Siberian crab in the same orchard. Herds -and flocks graze ten months every year in the meadows -over which winter is but a passing breath, and in which -spring and autumn meet in summer’s heart. Sugar-cane -and oats, rice and potatoes, are extremes that come -together under our skies. To raise cotton and send its -princely revenues to the west for supplies, and to the east -for usury, would be misfortune if soil and climate forced -such a curse. When both invite independence, to remain -in slavery is a crime. To mortgage our farms in Boston -for money with which to buy meat and bread from western -cribs and smokehouses, is folly unspeakable. I rejoice -that Texas is less open to this charge than others of the -cotton States. With her eighty million bushels of grain, -and her sixteen million head of stock, she is rapidly learning -that diversified agriculture means prosperity. Indeed, -the South is rapidly learning the same lesson; and learned -through years of debt and dependence it will never be forgotten. -The best thing Georgia has done in twenty years -was to raise her oat crop in one season from two million -to nine million bushels, without losing a bale of her cotton. -It is more for the South that she has increased her -crop of corn—that best of grains, of which Samuel J. -Tilden said, “It will be the staple food of the future, -and men will be stronger and better when that day -comes”—by forty-three million bushels this year, than -to have won a pivotal battle in the late war. In this -one item she keeps at home this year a sum equal to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>the entire cotton crop of my State that last year went -to the west.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This is the road to prosperity. It is the way to manliness -and sturdiness of character. When every farmer in -the South shall eat bread from his own fields and meat -from his own pastures, and disturbed by no creditor, and -enslaved by no debt, shall sit amid his teeming gardens, -and orchards, and vineyards, and dairies, and barnyards, -pitching his crops in his own wisdom, and growing them -in independence, making cotton his clean surplus, and -selling it in his own time, and in his chosen market, and -not at a master’s bidding—getting his pay in cash and not -in a receipted mortgage that discharges his debt, but does -not restore his freedom—then shall be breaking the fullness -of our day. Great is King Cotton! But to lie at his -feet while the usurer and grain-raiser bind us in subjection, -is to invite the contempt of man and the reproach of -God. But to stand up before him and amid the crops and -smokehouses wrest from him the magna charta of our -independence, and to establish in his name an ample and -diversified agriculture, that shall honor him while it enriches -us—this is to carry us as far in the way of happiness -and independence as the farmer, working in the fullest -wisdom, and in the richest field, can carry any people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But agriculture alone—no matter how rich or varied -its resources—cannot establish or maintain a people’s -prosperity. There is a lesson in this that Texas may learn -with profit. No commonwealth ever came to greatness by -producing raw material. Less can this be possible in the -future than in the past. The Comstock lode is the richest -spot on earth. And yet the miners, gasping for breath -fifteen hundred feet below the earth’s surface, get bare -existence out of the splendor they dig from the earth. It -goes to carry the commerce and uphold the industry of -distant lands, of which the men who produce it get but dim -report. Hardly more is the South profited when, stripping -the harvest of her cotton fields, or striking her teeming -hills, or leveling her superb forests, she sends the raw -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>material to augment the wealth and power of distant communities.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Texas produces a million and a half bales of cotton, -which yield her $60,000,000. That cotton, woven into -common goods, would add $75,000,000 to Texas’s income -from this crop, and employ 220,000 operatives, who would -spend within her borders more than $30,000,000 in wages. -Massachusetts manufactures 575,000 bales of cotton, for -which she pays $31,000,000, and sells for $72,000,000, -adding a value nearly equal to Texas’s gross revenue from -cotton, and yet Texas has a clean advantage for manufacturing -this cotton of one per cent a pound over Massachusetts. -The little village of Grand Rapids began manufacturing -furniture simply because it was set in a timber -district. It is now a great city and sells $10,000,000 worth -of furniture every year, in making which 125,000 men are -employed, and a population of 40,000 people supported. -The best pine districts of the world are in eastern Texas. -With less competition and wider markets than Grand -Rapids has, will she ship her forests at prices that barely -support the wood-chopper and sawyer, to be returned in -the making of which great cities are built or maintained? -When her farmers and herdsmen draw from her cities -$126,000,000 as the price of their annual produce, shall this -enormous wealth be scattered through distant shops and -factories, leaving in the hands of Texas no more than the -sustenance, support, and the narrow brokerage between -buyer and seller? As one-crop farming cannot support -the country, neither can a resource of commercial exchange -support a city. Texas wants immigrants—she needs -them—for if every human being in Texas were placed at -equi-distant points through the State no Texan could hear -the sound of a human voice in your broad areas.</p> - -<p class='c018'>So how can you best attract immigration? By furnishing -work for the artisan and mechanic if you meet the -demand of your population for cheaper and essential manufactured -articles. One-half million workers would be -needed for this, and with their families would double the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>population of your State. In these mechanics and their -dependents farmers would find a market for not only -their staple crops but for the truck that they now despise -to raise or sell, but is at least the cream of the farm. -Worcester county, Mass., takes $720,000,000 of our material -and turns out $87,000,000 of products every year, -paying $20,000,000 in wages. The most prosperous section -of this world is that known as the Middle States of this -republic. With agriculture and manufacturers in the -balance, and their shops and factories set amid rich and -ample acres, the result is such deep and diffuse prosperity -as no other section can show. Suppose those States had a -monopoly of cotton and coal so disposed as to command -the world’s markets and the treasury of the world’s timber, -I suppose the mind is staggered in contemplating the majesty -of the wealth and power they would attain. What have -they that the South lacks?—and to her these things were -added, and climate, ampler acres and rich soil. It is -a curious fact that three-fourths of the population and -manufacturing wealth of this country is comprised in -a narrow strip between Iowa and Massachusetts, comprising -less than one-sixth of our territory, and that this -strip is distant from the source of raw materials on which -its growth is based, of hard climate and in a large part of -sterile soil. Much of this forced and unnatural development -is due to slavery, which for a century fenced enterprise -and capital out of the South. Mr. Thomas, who in the -Lehigh Valley owned a furnace in 1845 that set that pattern -for iron-making in America, had at that time bought mines -and forest where Birmingham now stands. Slavery forced -him away. He settled in Pennsylvania. I have wondered -what would have happened if that one man had opened his -iron mines in Alabama and set his furnaces there at that -time. I know what is going to happen since he has -been forced to come to Birmingham and put up two -furnaces nearly forty years after his survey.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Another cause that has prospered New England and -the Middle States while the South languished, is the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>system of tariff taxes levied on the unmixed agriculture of -these States for the protection of industries to our neighbors -to the North, a system on which the Hon. Roger Q. -Mills—that lion of the tribe of Judah—has at last laid his -mighty paw and under the indignant touch of which it trembles -to its center. That system is to be revised and its duties -reduced, as we all agree it should be, though I should say -in perfect frankness I do not agree with Mr. Mills in it. Let -us hope this will be done with care and industrious patience. -Whether it stands or falls, the South has entered the -industrial list to partake of his bounty if it stands, and -if it falls to rely on the favor with which nature has -endowed her, and from this immutable advantage to -fill her own markets and then have a talk with the world -at large.</p> - -<p class='c018'>With amazing rapidity she has moved away from the -one-crop idea that was once her curse. In 1880 she was -esteemed prosperous. Since that time she has added 393,000,000 -bushels to her grain crops, and 182,000,000 head to -her live stock. This has not lost one bale of her cotton -crop, which, on the contrary, has increased nearly -200,000 bales. With equal swiftness has she moved away -from the folly of shipping out her ore at $2 a ton and -buying it back in implements from $20 to $100 per ton; her -cotton at 10 cents a pound and buying it back in cloth at -20 to 80 cents per pound; her timber at $8 per thousand -and buying it back in furniture at ten to twenty times as -much. In the past eight years $250,000,000 have been -invested in new shops and factories in her States; 225,000 -artisans are now working that eight years ago were idle or -worked elsewhere, and these added $227,000,000 to the -value of her raw material—more than half the value of her -cotton. Add to this the value of her increased grain crops -and stock, and in the past eight years she has grown in -her fields or created in her shops manufactures more than -the value of her cotton crop. The incoming tide has begun -to rise. Every train brings manufacturers from the East -and West seeking to establish themselves or their sons near -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>the raw material and in this growing market. Let the fullness -of the tide roll in.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It will not exhaust our materials, nor shall we glut our -markets. When the growing demand of our southern -market, feeding on its own growth, is met, we shall find -new markets for the South. Under our new condition -many indirect laws of commerce shall be straightened. -We buy from Brazil $50,000,000 worth of goods, and sell -her $8,500,000. England buys only $29,000,000, and sells -her $35,000,000. Of $65,000,000 in cotton goods bought by -Central and South America, over $50,000,000 went to England. -Of $331,000,000 sent abroad by the southern half of -our hemisphere, England secures over half, although we -buy from that section nearly twice as much as England. -Our neighbors to the south need nearly every article we -make; we need nearly everything they produce. Less -than 2,500 miles of road must be built to bind by rail the -two American continents. When this is done, and even -before, we shall find exhaustless markets to the South. -Texas shall command, as she stands in the van of this new -movement, its richest rewards.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The South, under the rapid diversification of crops and -diversification of industries, is thrilling with new life. As -this new prosperity comes to us, it will bring no sweeter -thought to me, and to you, my countrymen, I am sure, than -that it adds not only to the comfort and happiness of our -neighbors, but that it makes broader the glory and deeper -the majesty, and more enduring the strength, of the Union -which reigns supreme in our hearts. In this republic of -ours is lodged the hope of free government on earth. Here -God has rested the ark of his covenant with the sons of -men. Let us—once estranged and thereby closer bound,—let -us soar above all provincial pride and find our deeper -inspirations in gathering the fullest sheaves into the harvest -and standing the staunchest and most devoted of its -sons as it lights the path and makes clear the way through -which all the people of this earth shall come in God’s -appointed time.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>A few words for the young men of Texas. I am glad -that I can speak to them at all. Men, especially young -men, look back for their inspiration to what is best in their -traditions. Thermopylæ cast Spartan sentiments in heroic -mould and sustained Spartan arms for more than a century. -Thermopylæ had survivors to tell the story of its -defeat. The Alamo had none. Though voiceless it shall -speak from its dumb walls. Liberty cried out to Texas, as -God called from the clouds unto Moses. Bowie and Fanning, -though dead still live. Their voices rang above the -din of Goliad and the glory of San Jacinto, and they -marched with the Texas veterans who rejoiced at the birth -of Texas independence. It is the spirit of the Alamo that -moved above the Texas soldiers as they charged like demigods -through a thousand battle-fields, and it is the spirit -of the Alamo that whispers from their graves held in every -State of the Union, ennobling their dust, their soil, that -was crimsoned with their blood.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In this spirit of this inspiration and in the thrill of the -amazing growth that surrounds you, my young friends, it -will be strange if the young men of Texas do not carry the -lone star into the heart of the struggle. The South needs -her sons to-day more than when she summoned them to the -forum to maintain her political supremacy, more than -when the bugle called them to the field to defend issues -put to the arbitrament of the sword. Her old body is -instinct with appeal calling on us to come and give her -fuller independence than she has ever sought in field or -forum. It is ours to show that as she prospered with -slaves she shall prosper still more with freemen; ours to -see that from the lists she entered in poverty she shall -emerge in prosperity; ours to carry the transcending traditions -of the old South from which none of us can in honor -or in reverence depart, unstained and unbroken into the -new. Shall we fail? Shall the blood of the old South—the -best strain that ever uplifted human endeavor—that -ran like water at duty’s call and never stained where it -touched—shall this blood that pours into our veins through -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>a century luminous with achievement, for the first time -falter and be driven back from irresolute heat, when the -old South, that left us a better heritage in manliness and -courage than in broad and rich acres, calls us to settle -problems? A soldier lay wounded on a hard-fought field, -the roar of the battle had died away, and he rested in the -deadly stillness of its aftermath. Not a sound was heard -as he lay there, sorely smitten and speechless, but the shriek -of wounded and the sigh of the dying soul, as it escaped -from the tumult of earth into the unspeakable peace of the -stars. Off over the field flickered the lanterns of the surgeons -with the litter bearers, searching that they might -take away those whose lives could be saved and leave in -sorrow those who were doomed to die with pleading eyes -through the darkness. This poor soldier watched, unable -to turn or speak as the lanterns grew near. At last the -light flashed in his face, and the surgeon, with kindly face, -bent over him, hesitated a moment, shook his head, and -was gone, leaving the poor fellow alone with death. He -watched in patient agony as they went on from one part of -the field to another. As they came back the surgeon bent -over him again. “I believe if this poor fellow lives to sundown -to-morrow he will get well.” And again leaving him, -not to death but with hope; all night long these words fell -into his heart as the dews fell from the stars upon his lips, -“if he but lives till sundown, he will get well.” He -turned his weary head to the east and watched for the -coming sun. At last the stars went out, the east trembled -with radiance, and the sun, slowly lifting above the horizon, -tinged his pallid face with flame. He watched it -inch by inch as it climbed slowly up the heavens. He -thought of life, its hopes and ambitions, its sweetness and -its raptures, and he fortified his soul against despair until -the sun had reached high noon. It sloped down its slow -descent, and his life was ebbing away and his heart was -faltering, and he needed stronger stimulants to make him -stand the struggle until the end of the day had come. He -thought of his far-off home, the blessed house resting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>in tranquil peace with the roses climbing to its door, and -the trees whispering to its windows, and dozing in the -sunshine, the orchard and the little brook running like a -silver thread through the forest.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“If I live till sundown I will see it again. I will walk -down the shady lane: I will open the battered gate, and -the mocking-bird shall call to me from the orchard, and I -will drink again at the old mossy spring.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And he thought of the wife who had come from the -neighboring farmhouse and put her hand shyly in his, and -brought sweetness to his life and light to his home.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“If I live till sundown I shall look once more into her -deep and loving eyes and press her brown head once more -to my aching breast.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And he thought of the old father, patient in prayer, -bending lower and lower every day under his load of sorrow -and old age.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“If I but live till sundown I shall see him again and -wind my strong arm about his feeble body, and his hands -shall rest upon my head while the unspeakable healing of -his blessing falls into my heart.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And he thought of the little children that clambered on -his knees and tangled their little hands into his heart-strings, -making to him such music as the world shall not -equal or heaven surpass.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“If I live till sundown they shall again find my parched -lips with their warm mouths, and their little fingers shall -run once more over my face.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And he then thought of his old mother, who gathered -these children about her and breathed her old heart afresh -in their brightness and attuned her old lips anew to their -prattle, that she might live till her big boy came home.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“If I live till sundown I will see her again, and I will -rest my head at my old place on her knees, and weep away -all memory of this desolate night.” And the Son of God, -who had died for men, bending from the stars, put the -hand that had been nailed to the cross on ebbing life and -held on the staunch until the sun went down and the stars -<span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>came out, and shone down in the brave man’s heart and -blurred in his glistening eyes, and the lanterns of the surgeons -came and he was taken from death to life.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The world is a battle-field strewn with the wrecks of -government and institutions, of theories and of faiths that -have gone down in the ravage of years. On this field lies -the South, sown with her problems. Upon the field swings -the lanterns of God. Amid the carnage walks the Great -Physician. Over the South he bends. “If ye but live -until to-morrow’s sundown ye shall endure, my countrymen.” -Let us for her sake turn our faces to the east and -watch as the soldier watched for the coming sun. Let us -staunch her wounds and hold steadfast. The sun mounts -the skies. As it descends to us, minister to her and stand -constant at her side for the sake of our children, and of -generations unborn that shall suffer if she fails. And when -the sun has gone down and the day of her probation has -ended, and the stars have rallied her heart, the lanterns -shall be swung over the field and the Great Physician shall -lead her up, from trouble into content, from suffering into -peace, from death to life. Let every man here pledge himself -in this high and ardent hour, as I pledge myself and -the boy that shall follow me; every man himself and his -son, hand to hand and heart to heart, that in death and -earnest loyalty, in patient painstaking and care, he shall -watch her interest, advance her fortune, defend her fame -and guard her honor as long as life shall last. Every man -in the sound of my voice, under the deeper consecration he -offers to the Union, will consecrate himself to the South. -Have no ambition but to be first at her feet and last at her -service. No hope but, after a long life of devotion, to sink -to sleep in her bosom, and as a little child sleeps at his -mother’s breast and rests untroubled in the light of her -smile.</p> - -<p class='c018'>With such consecrated service, what could we not -accomplish; what riches we should gather for her; what -glory and prosperity we should render to the Union; what -blessings we should gather unto the universal harvest of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>humanity. As I think of it, a vision of surpassing beauty -unfolds to my eyes. I see a South, the home of fifty -millions of people, who rise up every day to call from -blessed cities, vast hives of industry and of thrift; her -country-sides the treasures from which their resources are -drawn; her streams vocal with whirring spindles; her -valleys tranquil in the white and gold of the harvest; her -mountains showering down the music of bells, as her slow-moving -flocks and herds go forth from their folds; her -rulers honest and her people loving, and her homes happy -and their hearthstones bright, and their waters still, and -their pastures green, and her conscience clear; her wealth -diffused and poor-houses empty, her churches earnest and -all creeds lost in the gospel. Peace and sobriety walking -hand in hand through her borders; honor in her homes; -uprightness in her midst; plenty in her fields; straight -and simple faith in the hearts of her sons and daughters; -her two races walking together in peace and contentment; -sunshine everywhere and all the time, and night falling on -her generally as from the wings of the unseen dove.</p> - -<p class='c018'>All this, my country, and more can we do for you. As -I look the vision grows, the splendor deepens, the horizon -falls back, the skies open their everlasting gates, and the -glory of the Almighty God streams through as He looks -down on His people who have given themselves unto Him -and leads them from one triumph to another until they -have reached a glory unspeaking, and the whirling stars, -as in their courses through Arcturus they run to the milky -way, shall not look down on a better people or happier -land.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span> - <h2 class='c012'>AT THE AUGUSTA EXPOSITION.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>IN November, 1887, at the Augusta Exposition, Mr. -Grady delivered the following Address:</span></p> -<p class='c021'>“When my eyes for the last time behold the sun in the heavens, -may they rest upon the glorious ensign of this republic, still full high -advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in original lustre, not a star -obscured or a stripe effaced, but everywhere blazing in characters of -living light all over its ample folds as they wave over land and sea, and -in every wind under heaven, that sentiment dear to every American -heart, liberty and union now and forever, one and inseparable!”</p> - -<p class='c023'>These words of Daniel Webster, whose brain was the -temple of wisdom and whose soul the temple of liberty, -inspire my heart as I speak to you to-day.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Ladies and gentlemen: This day is auspicious. Set -apart by governor and president for universal thanksgiving, -our grateful hearts confirm the consecration. Though -we have not been permitted to parade our democratic -roosters in jubilant print, we may now lead them from -their innocuous desuetude, and making them the basis of -this day’s feast, gather about them a company that in cordial -grace shall be excelled by none—not even that which -invests the republican turkey, whose steaming thighs shall -be slipped to-day in Indianapolis, and attacking them with -an appetite that comes from abounding health, consign -them to that digestion that waits on a conscience void of -offense.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We give thanks to-day that the Lord God Almighty, -having led us from desolation into plenty, from poverty -into substance, from passion into reason, and from estrangement -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>into love—having brought the harvests from -the ashes, and raised us homes from our ruins, and touched -our scarred land all over with beauty and with peace—permits -us to assemble here to-day and rejoice amid the -garnered heaps of our treasure. Your visitors give thanks -because, coming to a city that from deep disaster has risen -with energy and courage unequaled, and witnessing an exposition -that in the sweep of its mighty arms and the -splendor of its gathered riches surpasses all we have attempted, -they find all sense of rivalry blotted out in -wondering admiration, and from hearts that know not -envy or criticism, bid you God-speed to even higher -achievement, and to full and swift harvesting of the -prosperity to gain which you have builded so bravely -and so wisely.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I am thankful, if you will pardon this personal digression, -because I now meet face to face, and can render service -to a people whose generous words on a late occasion -touched my heart more deeply than I shall attempt here -to express. I simply say to you now, and I would that -my voice could reach every man in Georgia to whom I am -in like indebted, that your kindness left no room for resentment -or regret; but a heart filled with gratitude and -love steadier in its resolution to deserve the approval you -so unstintingly gave, and more deeply consecrated to the -service of the people, that in giving me their love have -given all that I have dared to hope for, and more than I -had dared to ask. I know not what the future may hold -for the life that recent events have jostled from its accustomed -path. It would be affectation to say that I am careless—for, -in touching it with your loving confidence, you -have kindled inspirations that cherished without guile, -may be confessed in frankness. But if it be given to man -to read the human heart, and plumb the quicksands of -human ambition, I know that I speak the truth when I -say that if ever I hold in my grasp any honor, in the winning -or wearing of which my State is disadvantaged, and -my hand refuses to surrender it, I pray God that in remembrance -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>of this hour He will strike it from me forever; -and if my ambitious heart rebels, that He will lead it, even -through sorrow and humiliation, to know that unworthy -laurels will fade on the brow, and that no honor can ennoble, -no triumph advance, and no victory satisfy that is -not won and worn in the weal of the people and the prosperity -of the State.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It gives us pleasure to meet to-day our neighbors from -Carolina, and by the banks of this river, more bond than -boundary, give them cordial welcome to Georgia. The -people of these States, sir, are ancient and honorable -friends. When the infant colony that settled Georgia -landed from its long voyage it was the hands of Carolinians -that helped them ashore, and Carolina’s hospitality -that gave them food and shelter. A banquet was served at -Beaufort, the details of which proved our ancestors to have -been doughty trenchermen, and at which we are not surprised -to learn a goodly quantity of most excellent wine -was served, nor to learn—for scribes extenuated then as -now—that, though the affair was conducted in the most -agreeable manner, no one became intoxicated. When the -Georgians took up their march to Savannah they carried -with them herds from the Carolinians’ folds, and food from -their granaries, and an offer from Mr. Whitaker—blessed -be his memory!—of a silver spoon for the first male child -born on Georgia soil, the first instance, I believe, of a -bounty offered or protection guaranteed to an infant industry -on this continent. When they settled, it was Carolina -gentlemen with their servants that builded the huts and -sheltered them, and Carolina captains with their picket -men that guarded them from the Indians. As from your -slender and pitiful store you gave then bountifully to us, -we invite you to-day to share with us our plenty and -rejoice with us that what you planted in neighborly kindness -hath grown into such greatness.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I am stirred with the profoundest emotion when I -reflect upon what the peoples of these two States have -endured together. Shoulder to shoulder they have fought -<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>through two revolutions. Side by side they have fallen -on the field of battle, and, brothers even in death, have -rested in common graves. Hand clasped in hand, they enjoyed -victory together, and together reaped in honor and -dignity the fruits of their triumph. Heart locked in -heart, they have stood undaunted in the desolation of defeat -and, fortified by unfailing comradeship, have wrought -gladness and peace from the tumult and bitterness of despair. -Of them it may be truly said, they have known no -rivalry save that emulation which inspires each, and embitters -neither. If we match your Calhoun, one of that -trinity that hath most been and shall not be equaled in -political record, with our Stephens, who was as acute in expounding, -and as devoted in defending the constitution as -he; your Hayne, who maintained himself valiantly against -the great mastodon in American politics, with our Hill -(would that he might be given back to us to-day), who took -the ablest debater of the age by the throat and shook him -until his eager tongue was stilled and the lips that had -slandered the South were livid in shame and confusion; if -against McDuffie, eloquent and immortal tribune, we put -our Toombs, the Mirabeau of his day, surpassing the -Frenchman in eloquence, and stainless of his crimes; if -against Legare, both scholar and statesman, we put our -Wilde, not surpassed as either; if we proffer Lanier, -Barick and Harris, when the praises of Sims, and Hayne, -and Timrod are sung, it is only because we rejoice in the -strength of each which has honored both, and glorified our -great republic. Let the glory of our past history incite us -to the future; let the trials we have endured nerve us for -trials yet to come, and let Georgia and Carolina, that in -prosperity united, in adversity have not been divided, -strike hands here to-day in a new compact that shall hold -them bound together in comradeship and love as long as -the Savannah, laying its lips on the cheeks of either, runs -down to the sea.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The South is now confronted by two dangers.</p> - -<p class='c018'>First, that by remaining solid it will force a permanent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>sectional alignment, under which being in minority it has -nothing to gain, and everything to lose.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Second, that by dividing it will debauch its political -system, destroy the defenses of its social integrity, and -put the balance of power in the hands of an ignorant and -dangerous class.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let us discuss these dangers for a moment.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As to the first. I do not doubt that every day the South -remains solid, the drift toward a solid North is deepening. -The South is solid now in a sense not dreamed of in ante-bellum -days. Then we divided on every question save one, -that of preserving equal representation in the Senate. -Clay championed the protective tariff. Jackson flew at -Calhoun’s throat when Carolina threatened to nullify. -Polk, of Tennessee, was made president over Clay, of Kentucky. -In 1852, Pierce received the vote of twenty-seven -States out of thirty-one, though this period marked the -height of slavery disturbance. The South was solid -then on one thing alone. On all other questions national -suffrage knew no sectional lines. To-day the South -is a mass of States merged into one; every issue fused -in the ardor of one great question, and our 153 electoral -votes hurled as a rifle-ball into the electoral college. -The tendency of this must be to solidify the North. Indeed, -this is already being done. Seymour and Blair, in -1868, on a platform declaring the amendments null and -void, were beaten in the North by Grant, the hero of the -war, by less than 100,000 votes. Mr. Harrison, twenty -years later, beat Cleveland with a flawless record and a -careful platform, over 450,000 votes in the northern States. -The solid South invites the solid North. From this status -the South has little to hope. The North is already in the -majority. More than five million immigrants have poured -into her States in the past ten years, and will be declared in -the next census. Four new States will give her eight new -senators and twelve electoral votes. In the South but one -State has kept pace with the West—and that one, Texas, -has largely gained at the expense of the Atlantic States. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>The South had thirty-eight per cent. of the electoral vote -in 1880. It is doubtful if she will have over twenty-five per -cent. in 1890. To remain solid, therefore, is to incur the -danger of being placed in perpetual minority, and practically -shut out from participation in the government, into which -Georgia and Massachusetts came as equals—that was fashioned -in their common wisdom, defended in their common -blood, and bought of their common treasure.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But what of the other danger? Can we risk that to -avoid the first? I am sure we cannot. The very worst -thing that could happen to the South is to have her white -vote divided into factions, and each faction bidding for the -negro who holds the balance of power. What is this negro -vote? In every southern State it is considerable, and I -fear it is increasing. It is alien, being separated by racial -differences that are deep and permanent. It is ignorant—easily -deluded or betrayed. It is impulsive—lashed by a -word into violence. It is purchasable, having the incentive -of poverty and cupidity, and the restraint of neither pride -nor conviction. It can never be merged through logical or -orderly currents into either of two parties, if two should -present themselves. We cannot be rid of it. There it is, -a vast mass of impulsive, ignorant and purchasable votes. -With no factions between which to swing it has no play or -dislocation; but thrown from one faction to another it is -the loosed cannon on the storm-tossed ship. There is no -community that would deliberately tempt this danger; no -social or political fabric that could stand its strain. The -Tweed ring, backed by a similar and less irresponsible following -than a shrewd clique could rally and control in -every southern State, and daring less of plunder and insolence -than that following would sanction or support, -blotted out party lines in New York, and made its intelligence -and integrity as solid as the South ever was. Party -lines were promptly recast because New York had to deal -with the vicious, who once punished may be trusted to -sulk in quiet while their wounds heal. We deal with the -ignorant, that scourged from power to-day, may be deluded -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>to-morrow into assaulting the very position from which -they have been lashed. Never did robbers find followers -more to their mind than the emancipated slaves of reconstruction -days. Ignorant and confiding, they could be committed -to any excess, led to any outrage. Deep as was the -degradation to which these sovereign States were carried, -and heavy as is the burden they left on this impoverished -people, it was only when the white race, rallying from the -graves of its dead and the ashes of its homes, closed its -decimated ranks, and fronting federal bayonets, and defying -federal power, stood like a stone wall before the uttermost -temples of its liberty and credit, and the hideous -drama closed, that the miserable assault was checked.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Shall those ranks be broken while the danger still -threatens?</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let the whites divide, what happens? Here is this -dangerous and alien influence that holds the balance of -power. It cannot be won by argument, for it is without -information, understanding or traditions—hence without -convictions. It must be bought by race privileges granted -as such, or by money paid outright. Let us follow this in -its twofold aspect. One faction gives the negro certain -privileges and wins. The other offers more. The first bids -under, and so the sickening work goes on until the barriers -that now protect the social integrity and peace of both races -are swept away. The negro gains nothing, for he secures -these spoils and privileges not by deserving them, or qualifying -himself for them, but as the plunder of an irritating -struggle in which he loses that largeness of sympathy -and tolerance that is at last essential to his well-being and -advancement. The other aspect is as bad. One side puts -up five thousand dollars for the purchase of the negro vote -and wins. The other, declining at first to corrupt the suffrage, -but realizing at last that the administration on which -his life and property depends is at stake, doubles this, and -so the debauching deepens until at last such enormous -sums are spent that they must be recouped from the public -treasuries. Good men disgusted go to the rear. The shrewd -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>and unscrupulous are put to the front, and the negro, carrying -with him the balance of power, falls at last into the -grasp of the faction which is most cunning and conscienceless. -National parties, finding here their cheapest market -and widest field, will pour millions into the South, adding -to the corruption funds of municipal and State factions -until the ballot-box will be hopelessly debauched, all the -approaches thereto corrupt, and all the results therefrom -tainted.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I understand perfectly that this is not the largest view -of this question to take. The larger interests of this section -and of the Union do not rest here. I deplore this fact. -I would that the South, fettered by no circumstances and -embarrassed by no problem, could take her place by the -side of her sister States, making alliance as her interest or -patriotism suggested.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let me say here that I yield to no man in my love for -this Union. I was taught from my cradle to love it, and -my father, loving it to the last, nevertheless gave his life -for Georgia when she asked it at his hands. Loving the -Union as he did, yet would I do unto Georgia even as -he did. I said once in New York, and I repeat it here, -honoring his memory as I do nothing on this earth, I still -thank God that the American conflict was adjudged by -higher wisdom than his or mine, that the honest purposes -of the South were crossed, her brave armies beaten, and -the American Union saved from the storm of war. I love -this Union because I am an American citizen. I love it because -it stands in the light while other nations are groping -in the dark. I love it because here, in this republic of a -homogeneous people, must be worked out the great problems -that perplex the world and established the axioms -that must uplift and regenerate humanity. I love it because -it is my country, and my State stood by when its flag -was once unfurled, and uplifted her stainless sword, and -pledged “her life, her property and her sacred honor,” -and when the last star glittered from the silken folds, and -with her precious blood wrote her loyalty in its crimson -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>bars. I love it, because I know that its flag, fluttering from -the misty heights of the future, followed by a devoted people -once estranged and thereby closer bound, shall blaze out -the way, and make clear the path up which all the nations -of the earth shall come in God’s appointed time.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I know the ideal status is that every State should vote -without regard to sectional lines. The reconciliation of the -people will never be complete until Iowa and Georgia, -Texas and Massachusetts may stand side by side without -surprise. I would to God that status could be reached! If -any man can define a path on which the whites of the -South, though divided, can walk in honor and peace, I -shall take that path, though I walk down it alone—for at -the end of that path, and nowhere else, lies the full emancipation -of my section and the full restoration of this Union.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But it cannot be. When the negro was enfranchised, -the South was condemned to solidity as surely as self-preservation -is the first law of nature. A State here -or there may drift away, but it will come back assuredly—and -come through such travail, and bearing such -burden, as neither war nor pestilence can bring. This -problem is not of our seeking. It was thrust upon us not -in the orderly unfolding of a preordained plan, but in hot -impulse and passion, against the judgment of the world -and the lessons of history, and to the peril of popular -government, which rests at last on a pure and unsullied -suffrage as a building rests on its cornerstone. If it be -urged that it was the inexorable result of our course in -1860, we reply that we took that course in deliberation, -maintained it in sincerity, sealed it with the blood of our -best and bravest—and we accept without complaint, and -abide in dignity, its direct and ultimate results, and shall -hold it to be, in spite of defeat, forever honorable and -sacred. This much I add. No king that ever sat on a -throne, though backed by autocratic power, would have -dared to subject his kingdom to the strain, and his people -to the burden that the North put on the prostrate, impoverished, -and helpless South when it enfranchised the body -<span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>of our late slaves. We would not undo this if we could. -We know that this step, though taken in haste, shall never -be retraced. Posterity will judge of the wisdom and -patriotism in which it was ordered, and the order and -equity in which it was worked out.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To that judgment we appeal with confidence. From -that judgment Mr. Blaine has already appealed by shrewdly -urging in his written history, that the North did not intend -to enfranchise the negro, but was forced to do it by the -stubborn attitude of the South. Be that as it may, it is -our problem now, and with resolute hands and unfailing -hearts we must carry it to the end. It dominates, and will -dominate, all other issues with us. Political spoils are -not to be considered. The administration of our affairs is -secondary, and patronage is less. Economic issues are as -naught, and even great moral reforms must wait on the -settlement of this question. To quarrel over other issues -while this is impending is to imitate the mother quail that -thrums the leaves afar from her nest, or recall the finesse -of the Spartan boy who smiled in his mother’s face while -he hid the fox that was gnawing at his vitals.</p> - -<p class='c018'>What then is the duty of the South? Simply this. -To maintain the political as well as the social integrity of -her white race, and to appeal to the world for patience and -justice. Let us show that it is not sectional prejudice, but -a sectional problem that keeps us compacted; that it is -not the hope of dominion or power, but an abiding necessity—not -spoils or patronage, but plain self-preservation -that holds the white race together in the South. Let us -make this so plain that a community anywhere, searching its -own heart, would say: “The necessity that binds our brothers -in the South would bind us as closely were the necessity -here.” Let us invite immigrants and meet them with -such cordial welcome that they will abide with us in brotherhood, -and so enlarge the body of intelligence and integrity, -that divided it may carry the burden of ignorance -without danger. Let us be loyal to the Union, and not -only loyal but loving. Let the republic know that in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>peace it hath nowhere better citizens, nor in war braver -soldiers, than in these States. Though set apart by this -problem which God permits to rest upon us, and which -therefore is right, let us garner our sheaves gladly into the -harvest of the Union, and find joy in our work and progress, -because it makes broader the glory and deeper the -majesty of this republic that is cemented with our blood. -Let us love the flag that waved over Marion and Jasper, -that waves over us, and which when we are gathered to our -fathers shall be a guarantee of liberty and prosperity to -our children, and our children’s children, and know that -what we do in honor shall deepen, and what we do in dishonor -shall dim, the luster of its fixed and glittering stars.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As for the negro, let us impress upon him what he -already knows, that his best friends are the people among -whom he lives, whose interests are one with his, and -whose prosperity depends on his perfect contentment. -Let us give him his uttermost rights, and measure out justice -to him in that fullness the strong should always give -to the weak. Let us educate him that he may be a better, -a broader, and more enlightened man. Let us lead him in -steadfast ways of citizenship, that he may not longer be -the sport of the thoughtless, and the prey of the unscrupulous. -Let us inspire him to follow the example of the -worthy and upright of his race, who may be found in every -community, and who increase steadily in numbers and influence. -Let us strike hands with him as friends—and as -in slavery we led him to heights which his race in Africa -had never reached, so in freedom let us lead him to a prosperity -of which his friends in the North have not dreamed. -Let us make him know that he, depending more than -any other on the protection and bounty of government, -shall find in alliance with the best elements of the whites -the pledge of safe and impartial administration. And let -us remember this—that whatever wrong we put on him -shall return to punish us. Whatever we take from him in -violence, that is unworthy and shall not endure. What we -steal from him in fraud, that is worse. But what we win -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>from him in sympathy and affection, what we gain in his -confiding alliance and confirm in his awakening judgment, -that is precious and shall endure—and out of it shall -come healing and peace.</p> - -<p class='c018'>What is the attitude of the North on this issue? Two -propositions appear to be universally declared by the -Republicans. First, that the negro vote of the South is -suppressed by violence, or miscounted by fraud. Second, -that it shall be freely cast and fairly counted. While -Republicans agree on these declarations, there are those -who hold them sincerely, but would be glad to see the first -disapproved, and the second thereby wiped out—and -those who hold them in malignity, and who will maintain -the first that they may justify the storm that lies hid in -the second.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let us send to-day a few words to the fair-minded Republicans -of the North. Here is a fundamental assertion—the -negroes of the South can never be kept in antagonism -with their white neighbors—for the intimacy and friendliness -of the relation forbids. This friendliness, the most -important factor of the problem—the saving factor now as -always—the North has never, and it appears will never, -take account of. It explains that otherwise inexplicable -thing—the fidelity and loyalty of the negro during the war -to the women and children left in his care. Had Uncle -Tom’s Cabin portrayed the habit rather than the exception -of slavery, the return of the Confederate armies could -not have stayed the horrors of arson and murder their departure -would have invited. Instead of that, witness the -miracle of the slave in loyalty closing the fetters about his -own limbs—maintaining the families of those who fought -against his freedom—and at night on the far-off battle-field -searching among the carnage for his young master, -that he might lift the dying head to his humble breast and -with rough hands wipe the blood away, and bend his tender -ear to catch the last words for the old ones at home, -wrestling meanwhile in agony and love, that in vicarious -sacrifice he would have laid down his life in his master’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>stead. This friendliness, thank God, has survived the -lapse of years, the interruption of factions, and the violence -of campaigns, in which the bayonet fortified, and the -drum-beat inspired. Though unsuspected in slavery, it -explains the miracle of ’64—though not yet confessed, it -must explain the miracle of 1888.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Can a Northern man dealing with casual servants, -querulous, sensitive, and lodged for a day in a sphere they -resent, understand the close relations of the races of the -South? Can he comprehend the open-hearted, sympathetic -negro, contented in his place, full of gossip and comradeship, -the companion of the hunt, the frolic, the furrow, -and the home, standing in kindly dependence that is the -habit of his blood, and lifting not his eyes beyond the narrow -horizon that shuts him in with his neighbors? This -relation may be interrupted, but permanent estrangement -can never come between these two races. It is upon this -that the South depends. By fair dealing and by sympathy -to deepen this friendship and add thereto the moral effect -of the better elements compacted, with the wealth and -intelligence and influence lodged therein—it is this upon -which the South has relied for years, and upon which she -will rest in future.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Against this no outside power can prevail. That there -has been violence is admitted. There has also been brutality -in the North. But I do not believe there was a negro -voter in the South kept away from the polls by fear of violence -in the late election. I believe there were fewer votes -miscounted in the South than in the North. Even in those -localities where violence once occurred, wiser counsels have -prevailed, and reliance is placed on those higher and legitimate -and inexorable methods by which the superior race -always dominates, and by which intelligence and integrity -always resist the domination of ignorance and corruption. -If the honest Republicans of the North permit a scheme of -federal supervision, based on the assumption of intimidated -voters and a false count, they will blunder from the -start, for, beginning in error, they will end in worse. This -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>whole matter should be left now with the people, with -whom it must be left at last—that people most interested -in its honorable settlement. External pressure but irritates -and delays. The South has voluntarily laid down -the certainty of power which dividing her States would -bring, that she might solve this problem in the deliberation -and the calmness it demands. She turns away from spoils, -knowing that to struggle for them would bring irritation -to endanger greater things. She postpones reforms and -surrenders economic convictions, that unembarrassed she -may deal with this great issue. And she pledges her sacred -honor—by all that she has won, and all that she has suffered—that -she will settle this problem in such full and -exact justice as the finite mind can measure, or finite hands -administer. On this pledge she asks the patience and -waiting judgment of the world, and especially of the people—her -brothers and her kindred—that in passion forced -this problem into the keeping of her helpless hands.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Shall she have it?</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let us see. Was there a pistol shot through the South -on election day? Was there a riot? Was there anything -to equal the disturbance and arrests in President Harrison’s -own city? If so, diligent search has not found it. -Where then was the vote suppressed through violence? -In the 12,000 election precincts of the South, where was -a ballot-box rifled, or a registry list altered? Thirteen -Republican congressmen were elected, many of them by -majorities so slender that the vote of a single precinct -would have changed the result. In West Virginia, with -its wild and lawless districts, the governorship hangs on -less than three hundred votes, and this very day the governor -of Tennessee and his cabinet are passing on a legal -question in the casting of twenty-three votes that elects or -defeats a congressman. In West Virginia and in Tennessee -the law will be applied as impartially and the official vote -held as sacred as in New York or Ohio. Where, then, is -the wholesale fraud of which complaint is made?</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the face of this showing, let me quote from an editorial -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>in the <i>Chicago Tribune</i>, one of the most powerful -and a usually conservative journal, charging that the negro -vote is suppressed and miscounted. It says:</p> - -<p class='c021'>“The trouble is, the blacks will not fight for themselves. White -men, or Indians, situated as the negroes, would have made the rivers -of the South run red with blood before they would submit to the usurpations -and wrongs with which the black passively endure. Oppressed -by generations of slavery, the negroes are non-combatants. They will -not shoot and burn for their rights.”</p> - -<p class='c023'>Mark the unspeakable infamy of this suggestion. The -“trouble” is that the negroes will not rise and shoot and -burn. Not the “mercy” is that they do not—but the -“mercy” is that they will not massacre and begin the -strife that would repeat the horrors of Hayti in the -various States of this Republic. Burn and shoot for what? -That they may vote in Georgia, where in front of me in -the line stood a negro, whose place was as sacred as mine, -and whose vote as safely counted? That they may vote in -the thirteen districts in which they have elected their congressmen?—in -the 320 counties in which they have elected -their representatives, and in old Virginia, where they came -within 1400 votes of carrying the State?</p> - -<p class='c018'>As the 60,000 Virginia negroes who did vote did so in -admitted peace and safety, where was the violence that -prevented the needed 1400 from leaving their fields, -coming to the ballot-box, and giving the State to the -Republicans? And yet slavery itself, in which the selling -of a child from its mother’s arms and a wife from her -husband was permitted, never brought into reputable print -so villainous a suggestion as this, leveled by a knave at a -political condition which he views from afar, and which it -is proved does not exist. To pass by the man who wrote -these words, how shall we judge the temper of a community -in which they are applauded? Are these men -blood of our blood that they permit such things to go -unchallenged? Better that they had refused us parole at -Appomattox and had confiscated the ruins of our homes, -than twenty years later to bring us under the dominion of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>such passion as this. Hear another witness, General -Sherman, not in hot speech but in cold print:</p> - -<p class='c021'>“The negro must be allowed to vote, and his vote must be counted, -otherwise, so sure as there is a God in heaven, you will have another -war, more cruel than the last, when the torch and dagger will take -the place of the muskets of well-ordered battalions. Should the negro -strike that blow, in seeming justice, there will be millions to assist -them.”</p> - -<p class='c023'>And this is the greatest living soldier of the Union -army. He covered the desolation he sowed in city and -country through these States with the maxim that -“cruelty in war, is mercy”—and no one lifted the cloak. -But when he insults the men he conquered, and endangers -the renewing growth of the country he wasted, with this -unmanly threat, he puts a stain on his name the maxims -of philosophy and fable from Socrates all the way cannot -cover, and the glory of Marlborough, were it added to his -own, could not efface.</p> - -<p class='c018'>No answer can be made in passion to these men. If the -temper of the North is expressed in their words, the South -can do nothing but rally her sons for their last defense and -await in silence what the future may bring forth. This -much should be said: The negro can never be established -in dominion over the white race of the South. The sword -of Grant and the bayonets of his army could not maintain -them in the supremacy they had won from the helplessness -of our people. No sword drawn by mortal man, no -army martialed by mortal hand, can replace them in the -supremacy from which they were cast down by our people, -for the Lord God Almighty decreed otherwise when he -created these races, and the flaming sword of his archangel -will enforce his decree and work out his plan of -unchangeable wisdom.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I do not believe the people of the North will be committed -to a violent policy. I believe in the good faith -and fair play of the American people. These noisy insects -of the hour will perish with the heat that warmed them -into life, and when their pestilent cries have ceased, the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>great clock of the Republic will strike the slow-moving and -tranquil hours, and the watchmen from the streets will cry, -“All’s well—all’s well!” I thank God that through the -mists of passion that already cloud our northern horizon -comes the clear, strong voice of President Harrison declaring -that the South shall not suffer, but shall prosper, in -his election. Happy will it be for us—happy for this -country, and happy for his name and fame, if he has the -courage to withstand the demagogues who clamor for our -crucifixion, and the wisdom to establish a path in which -voters of all parties and of all sections may walk together -in peace and prosperity.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Should the President yield to the demands of the pestilent, -the country will appeal from his decision. In Indiana -and New York more than two million votes were cast. By -less than 16,000 majority these States were given to Harrison, -and his election thereby secured. A change of less -than ten thousand in this enormous poll would restore the -Democratic party to power. If President Harrison permits -this unrighteous crusade on the peace of the South, and -the prosperity of the people, this change and more will be -made, and the Democratic party restored to power.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In her industrial growth the South is daily making new -friends. Every dollar of Northern money invested in the -South gives us a new friend in that section. Every settler -among us raises up new witnesses to our fairness, sincerity -and loyalty. We shall secure from the North more friendliness -and sympathy, more champions and friends, through -the influence of our industrial growth, than through political -aspiration or achievement. Few men can comprehend—would -that I had the time to dwell on this point to-day—how -vast has been the development, how swift the growth, -and how deep and enduring is laid the basis of even greater -growth in the future. Companies of immigrants sent down -from the sturdy settlers of the North will solve the -Southern problem, and bring this section into full and -harmonious relations with the North quicker than all the -battalions that could be armed and martialed could do.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>The tide of immigration is already springing this way. -Let us encourage it. But let us see that these immigrants -come in well-ordered procession, and not pell-mell. That -they come as friends and neighbors—to mingle their blood -with ours, to build their homes on our fields, to plant their -Christian faith on these red hills, and not seeking to plant -strange heresies of government and faith, but, honoring our -constitution and reverencing our God, to confirm, and not -estrange, the simple faith in which we have been reared, -and which we should transmit unsullied to our children.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It may be that the last hope of saving the old-fashioned -on this continent will be lodged in the South. Strange -admixtures have brought strange results in the North. -The anarchist and atheist walk abroad in the cities, and, -defying government, deny God. Culture has refined for -itself new and strange religions from the strong old creeds.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The old-time South is fading from observance, and the -mellow church-bells that called the people to the temples -of God are being tabooed and silenced. Let us, my countrymen, -here to-day—yet a homogeneous and God-fearing -people—let us highly resolve that we will carry untainted -the straight and simple faith—that we will give ourselves -to the saving of the old-fashioned, that we will wear in our -hearts the prayers we learned at our mother’s knee, and -seek no better faith than that which fortified her life -through adversity, and led her serene and smiling through -the valley of the shadow.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let us keep sacred the Sabbath of God in its purity, and -have no city so great, or village so small, that every Sunday -morning shall not stream forth over towns and meadows -the golden benediction of the bells, as they summon -the people to the churches of their fathers, and ring out in -praise of God and the power of His might. Though other -people are led into the bitterness of unbelief, or into the -stagnation of apathy and neglect—let us keep these two -States in the current of the sweet old-fashioned, that the -sweet rushing waters may lap their sides, and everywhere -from their soil grow the tree, the leaf whereof shall not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>fade and the fruit whereof shall not die, but the fruit -whereof shall be meat, and the leaf whereof shall be healing.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In working out our civil, political, and religious salvation, -everything depends on the union of our people. The -man who seeks to divide them now in the hour of their -trial, that man puts ambition before patriotism. A distinguished -gentleman said that “certain upstarts and speculators -were seeking to create a new South to the derision -and disparagement of the old,” and rebukes them for so -doing. These are cruel and unjust words. It was Ben -Hill—the music of whose voice hath not deepened, though -now attuned to the symphonies of the skies—who said: -“There was a South of secession and slavery—that South -is dead; there is a South of union and freedom—that South, -thank God, is living, growing, every hour.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was he who named the New South. One of the “upstarts” -said in a speech in New York: “In answering the -toast to the New South, I accept that name in no disparagement -to the Old South. Dear to me, sir, is the home -of my childhood and the traditions of my people, and not -for the glories of New England history from Plymouth -Rock all the way, would I surrender the least of these. -Never shall I do, or say, aught to dim the luster of the -glory of my ancestors, won in peace and war.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Where is the young man in the South who has spoken -one word in disparagement of our past, or has worn lightly -the sacred traditions of our fathers? The world has not -equaled the unquestioning reverence and undying loyalty -of the young man of the South to the memory of our -fathers. History has not equaled the cheerfulness and -heroism with which they bestirred themselves amid the -poverty that was their legacy, and holding the inspiration -of their past to be better than rich acres and garnered -wealth, went out to do their part in rebuilding the fallen -fortunes of the South and restoring her fields to their pristine -beauty. Wherever they have driven—in marketplace, -putting youth against experience, poverty against -capital—in the shop earning in the light of their forges -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>and the sweat of their faces the bread and meat for those -dependent upon them—in the forum, eloquent by instinct, -able though unlettered—on the farm, locking the sunshine -in their harvests and spreading the showers on their fields—everywhere -my heart has been with them, and I thank God -that they are comrades and countrymen of mine. I have -stood with them shoulder to shoulder as they met new conditions -without surrendering old faiths—and I have been -content to feel the grasp of their hands and the throb of -their hearts, and hear the music of their quick step as they -marched unfearing into new and untried ways. If I should -attempt to prostitute the generous enthusiasm of these -my comrades to my own ambition, I should be unworthy. -If any man enwrapping himself in the sacred memories of -the Old South, should prostitute them to the hiding of his -weakness, or the strengthening of his failing fortunes, that -man would be unworthy. If any man for his own advantage -should seek to divide the old South from the new, or -the new from the old—to separate these that in love hath -been joined together—to estrange the son from his father’s -grave and turn our children from the monuments of our -dead, to embitter the closing days of our veterans with suspicion -of the sons who shall follow them—this man’s words -are unworthy and are spoken to the injury of his people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Some one has said in derision that the old men of the -South, sitting down amid their ruins, reminded him “of -the Spanish hidalgos sitting in the porches of the Alhambra, -and looking out to sea for the return of the lost -Armada.” There is pathos but no derision in this picture -to me. These men were our fathers. Their lives were stainless. -Their hands were daintily cast, and the civilization -they builded in tender and engaging grace hath not been -equaled. The scenes amid which they moved, as princes -among men, have vanished forever. A grosser and material -day has come, in which their gentle hands could garner -but scantily, and their guileless hearts fend but feebly. -Let them sit, therefore, in the dismantled porches of their -homes, into which dishonor hath never entered, to which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>discourtesy is a stranger—and gaze out to the sea, beyond -the horizon of which their armada has drifted forever. -And though the sea shall not render back for them the -Arguses that went down in their ship, let us build for them -in the land they love so well a stately and enduring temple—its -pillars founded in justice, its arches springing to -the skies, its treasuries filled with substance; liberty walking -in its corridors; art adorning its walls; religion filling -its aisles with incense,—and here let them rest in honorable -peace and tranquillity until God shall call them hence -to “a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>There are other things I wish to say to you to-day, my -countrymen, but my voice forbids. I thank you for your -courteous and patient attention. And I pray to God—who -hath led us through sorrow and travail—that on this day -of universal thanksgiving, when every Christian heart in -this audience is uplifted in praise, that He will open the -gates of His glory and bend down above us in mercy and -love! And that these people who have given themselves -unto Him, and who wear His faith in their hearts, that He -will lead them even as little children are led—that He will -deepen their wisdom with the ambition of His words—that -He will turn them from error with the touch of His -almighty hand—that he will crown all their triumphs with -the light of His approving smile, and into the heart of their -troubles, whether of people or state, that He will pour the -healing of His mercy and His grace.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span> - <h2 class='c012'>AGAINST CENTRALIZATION.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_26_0_7 c030'><span class='sc'>ADDRESS delivered before the Societies of the -University of Virginia, June 25, 1889.</span></p> - -<p class='c023'><span class='sc'>Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen</span>: In thanking -you for this cordial—this Virginia—welcome, let me -say that it satisfies my heart to be with you to-day. This -is my alma mater. Kind, in the tolerant patience with -which she winnowed the chaff of idle days and idler nights -that she might find for me the grain of knowledge and of -truth, and in the charity with which she sealed in sorrow -rather than in anger my brief but stormy career within -these walls. Kinder yet, that her old heart has turned -lovingly after the lapse of twenty years to her scapegrace -son in a distant State, and recalling him with this honorable -commission, has summoned him to her old place at her -knees. Here at her feet, with the glory of her presence -breaking all about me, let me testify that the years have -but deepened my reverence and my love, and my heart has -owned the magical tenderness of the emotions first kindled -amid these sacred scenes. That which was unworthy has -faded—that which was good has abided. Faded the memory -of the tempestuous dyke and the riotous kalathump—dimmed -the memory of that society, now happily extinct, -but then famous as “The Nippers from Peru”—forgotten -even the glad exultation of those days when the neighboring -mountaineer in the pride of his breezy heights brought -down the bandaged bear to give battle to the urban dog. -Forgotten all these follies, and let us hope forgiven. But, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>enduring in heart and in brain, the exhaustless splendor -of those golden days—the deep and pure inspiration of -these academic shades—the kindly admonition and wisdom -of the masters—the generous ardor of our mimic contests—and -that loving comradeship that laughed at separation -and has lived beyond the grave. Enduring and hallowed, -blessed be God, the strange and wild ambitions that startled -my boyish heart as amid these dim corridors, oh! my -mother, the stirring of unseen wings in thy mighty past -caught my careless ear, and the dazzling ideals of thy -future were revealed to my wondering sight.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Gentlemen of the literary societies—I have no studied -oration for you to-day. A life busy beyond its capacities -has given scanty time for preparation. But from a loving -heart I shall speak to you this morning in comradely sympathy -of that which concerns us nearly.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Will you allow me to say that the anxiety that always -possesses me when I address my young countrymen is to-day -quickened to the point of consecration. For the first -time in man’s responsibility I speak in Virginia to Virginia. -Beyond its ancient glories that made it matchless -among States, its later martyrdom has made it the Mecca -of my people. It was on these hills that our fathers gave -new and deeper meaning to heroism, and advanced the -world in honor! It is in these valleys that our dead lie -sleeping. Out there is Appomattox, where on every ragged -gray cap the Lord God Almighty laid the sword of His -imperishable knighthood. Beyond is Petersburg, where -he whose name I bear, and who was prince to me among -men, dropped his stainless sword and yielded up his stainless -life. Dear to me, sir, are the people among whom my -father died—sacred to me, sir, the soil that drank his -precious blood. From a heart stirred by these emotions -and sobered by these memories, let me speak to you to-day, -my countrymen—and God give me wisdom to speak aright -and the words wherewithal to challenge and hold your -attention.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We are standing in the daybreak of the second century -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>of this Republic. The fixed stars are fading from the sky, -and we grope in uncertain light. Strange shapes have -come with the night. Established ways are lost—new -roads perplex, and widening fields stretch beyond the -sight. The unrest of dawn impels us to and fro—but -Doubt stalks amid the confusion, and even on the beaten -paths the shifting crowds are halted, and from the shadows -the sentries cry: “Who comes there?” In the obscurity -of the morning tremendous forces are at work. Nothing -is steadfast or approved. The miracles of the present belie -the simple truths of the past. The church is besieged from -without and betrayed from within. Behind the courts -smoulders the rioter’s torch and looms the gibbet of the -anarchists. Government is the contention of partisans -and the prey of spoilsmen. Trade is restless in the grasp -of monopoly, and commerce shackled with limitation. The -cities are swollen and the fields are stripped. Splendor -streams from the castle, and squalor crouches in the home. -The universal brotherhood is dissolving, and the people are -huddling into classes. The hiss of the Nihilist disturbs -the covert, and the roar of the mob murmurs along the -highway. Amid it all beats the great American heart -undismayed, and standing fast by the challenge of his conscience, -the citizen of the Republic, tranquil and resolute, -notes the drifting of the spectral currents, and calmly -awaits the full disclosures of the day.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Who shall be the heralds of this coming day? Who -shall thread the way of honor and safety through these -besetting problems? Who shall rally the people to the -defense of their liberties and stir them until they shall cry -aloud to be led against the enemies of the Republic? You, -my countrymen, you! The university is the training camp -of the future. The scholar the champion of the coming -years. Napoleon over-ran Europe with drum-tap and -bivouac—the next Napoleon shall form his battalions at -the tap of the schoolhouse bell and his captains shall come -with cap and gown. Waterloo was won at Oxford—Sedan -at Berlin. So Germany plants her colleges in the shadow -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>of the French forts, and the professor smiles amid his students -as he notes the sentinel stalking against the sky. -The farmer has learned that brains mix better with his soil -than the waste of seabirds, and the professor walks by his -side as he spreads the showers in the verdure of his field, -and locks the sunshine in the glory of his harvest. A -button is pressed by a child’s finger and the work of a -million men is done. The hand is nothing—the brain -everything. Physical prowess has had its day and the age -of reason has come. The lion-hearted Richard challenging -Saladin to single combat is absurd, for even Gog and -Magog shall wage the Armageddon from their closets and -look not upon the blood that runs to the bridle-bit. Science -is everything! She butchers a hog in Chicago, draws -Boston within three hours of New York, renews the famished -soil, routs her viewless bondsmen from the electric -center of the earth, and then turns to watch the new Icarus -as mounting in his flight to the sun he darkens the burnished -ceiling of the sky with the shadow of his wing.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Learning is supreme and you are its prophets. Here -the Olympic games of the Republic—and you its chosen -athletes. It is yours then to grapple with these problems, -to confront and master these dangers. Yours to decide -whether the tremendous forces of this Republic shall be -kept in balance, or whether unbalanced they shall bring -chaos; whether 60,000,000 men are capable of self-government, -or whether liberty shall be lost to them who would -give their lives to maintain it. Your responsibility is -appalling. You stand in the pass behind which the world’s -liberties are guarded. This government carries the hopes -of the human race. Blot out the beacon that lights the -portals of this Republic and the world is adrift again. -But save the Republic; establish the light of its beacon -over the troubled waters, and one by one the nations of the -earth shall drop anchor and be at rest in the harbor of -universal liberty. Let one who loves this Republic as he -loves his life, and whose heart is thrilled with the majesty -of its mission, speak to you now of the dangers that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>threaten its peace and prosperity, and the means by which -they may be honorably averted.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The unmistakable danger that threatens free government -in America, is the increasing tendency to concentrate -in the Federal government powers and privileges that -should be left with the States, and to create powers that -neither the State nor Federal government should have. Let -it be understood at once that in discussing this question I -seek to revive no dead issue. We know precisely what was -put to the issue of the sword, and what was settled thereby. -The right of a State to leave this Union was denied and the -denial made good forever. But the sovereignty of the States -in the Union was never involved, and the Republic that survived -the storm was, in the words of the Supreme Court, -“an indissoluble Union of indestructible States.” Let us -stand on this decree and turn our faces to the future!</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is not strange that there should be a tendency to -centralization in our government. This disposition was the -legacy of the war. Steam and electricity have emphasized -it by bringing the people closer together. The splendor of -a central government dazzles the unthinking—its opulence -tempts the poor and the avaricious—its strength assures the -rich and the timid—its patronage incites the spoilsmen and -its powers inflame the partisan.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And so we have paternalism run mad. The merchant -asks the government to control the arteries of trade—the -manufacturer asks that his product be protected—the rich -asks for an army, and the unfortunate for help—this man -for schools and that for subsidy. The partisan proclaims, -amid the clamor, that the source of largess must be the seat -of power, and demands that the ballot-boxes of the States -be hedged by Federal bayonets. The centrifugal force of -our system is weakened, the centripetal force is increased, -and the revolving spheres are veering inward from their -orbits. There are strong men who rejoice in this unbalancing -and deliberately contend that the center is the true -repository of power and source of privilege—men who, were -they charged with the solar system, would shred the planets -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>into the sun, and, exulting in the sudden splendor, little -reck that they had kindled the conflagration that presages -universal nights! Thus the States are dwarfed and the -nation magnified—and to govern a people, who can best -govern themselves, the central authority is made stronger -and more splendid!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Concurrent with this political drift is another movement, -less formal perhaps, but not less dangerous—the consolidation -of capital. I hesitate to discuss this phase of -the subject, for of all men I despise most cordially the -demagogue who panders to the prejudice of the poor by -abuse of the rich. But no man can note the encroachment -in this country of what may be called “the money power” -on the rights of the individual, without feeling that the -time is approaching when the issue between plutocracy -and the people will be forced to trial. The world has not -seen, nor has the mind of man conceived of such miraculous -wealth-gathering as are every-day tales to us. Aladdin’s -lamp is dimmed, and Monte Cristo becomes commonplace -when compared to our magicians of finance and -trade. The seeds of a luxury that even now surpasses that -of Rome or Corinth, and has only yet put forth its first -flowers, are sown in this simple republic. What shall the -full fruitage be? I do not denounce the newly rich. For -most part their money came under forms of law. The -irresponsibilities of sudden wealth is in many cases -steadied by that resolute good sense which seems to be an -American heritage, and under-run by careless prodigality or -by constant charity. Our great wealth has brought us profit -and splendor. But the status itself is a menace. A home -that costs $3,000,000 and a breakfast that cost $5000 are -disquieting facts to the millions who live in a hut and dine -on a crust. The fact that a man ten years from poverty -has an income of $20,000,000—and his two associates nearly -as much—from the control and arbitrary pricing of an -article of universal use, falls strangely on the ears of those -who hear it, as they sit empty-handed, while children cry -for bread. The tendency deepens the dangers suggested -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>by the status. What is to be the end of this swift piling -up of wealth? Twenty years ago but few cities had their -millionaires. To-day almost every town has its dozen. -Twenty men can be named who can each buy a sovereign -State at its tax-book value. The youngest nation, America, -is vastly the richest, and in twenty years, in spite of -war, has nearly trebled her wealth. Millions are made on -the turn of a trade, and the toppling mass grows and grows, -while in its shadow starvation and despair stalk among -the people, and swarm with increasing legions against the -citadels of human life.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But the abuse of this amazing power of consolidated -wealth is its bitterest result and its pressing danger. -When the agent of a dozen men, who have captured and -control an article of prime necessity, meets the representatives -of a million farmers from whom they have forced -$3,000,000 the year before, with no more moral right than -is behind the highwayman who halts the traveler at his -pistol’s point, and insolently gives them the measure of -this year’s rapacity, and tells them—men who live in the -sweat of their brows, and stand between God and Nature—that -they must submit to the infamy because they are helpless, -then the first fruits of this system are gathered and -have turned to ashes on the lips. When a dozen men get -together in the morning and fix the price of a dozen -articles of common use—with no standard but their arbitrary -will, and no limit but their greed or daring—and -then notify the sovereign people of this free Republic how -much, in the mercy of their masters, they shall pay for the -necessaries of life—then the point of intolerable shame has -been reached.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We have read of the robber barons of the Rhine who -from their castles sent a shot across the bow of every passing -craft, and descending as hawks from the crags, tore -and robbed and plundered the voyagers until their greed -was glutted, or the strength of their victims spent. Shall -this shame of Europe against which the world revolted, -shall it be repeated in this free country? And yet, when a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>syndicate or a trust can arbitrarily add twenty-five per -cent. to the cost of a single article of common use, and -safely gather forced tribute from the people, until from its -surplus it could buy every castle on the Rhine, or requite -every baron’s debauchery from its kitchen account—where -is the difference—save that the castle is changed to a -broker’s office, and the picturesque river to the teeming -streets and the broad fields of this government “of the -people, by the people, and for the people”? I do not -overstate the case. Economists have held that wheat, -grown everywhere, could never be cornered by capital. -And yet one man in Chicago tied the wheat crop in his -handkerchief, and held it until a sewing-woman in my city, -working for ninety cents a week, had to pay him twenty -cents tax on the sack of flour she bore home in her famished -hands. Three men held the cotton crop until the English -spindles were stopped and the lights went out in 3,000,000 -English homes. Last summer one man cornered pork until -he had levied a tax of $3 per barrel on every consumer, -and pocketed a profit of millions. The Czar of Russia -would not have dared to do these things. And yet they -are no secrets in this free government of ours! They are -known of all men, and, my countrymen, no argument can -follow them, and no plea excuse them, when they fall on -the men who toiling, yet suffer—who hunger at their work—and -who cannot find food for their wives with which to -feed the infants that hang famishing at their breasts. Mr. -Jefferson foresaw this danger and he sought to avert it. -When Virginia ceded the vast Northwest to the government—before -the Constitution was written—Mr. Jefferson -in the second clause of the articles of cession prohibited -forever the right of primogeniture. Virginia then nobly -said, and Georgia in the cession of her territory repeated: -“In granting this domain to the government and dedicating -it to freedom, we prescribe that there shall be no classes -in the family—no child set up at the expense of the others, -no feudal estates established—but what a man hath shall -be divided equally among his children.”</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>We see this feudal tendency, swept away by Mr. Jefferson, -revived by the conditions of our time, aided by the -government with its grant of enormous powers and its -amazing class legislation. It has given the corporation -more power than Mr. Jefferson stripped from the individual, -and has set up a creature without soul or conscience -or limit of human life to establish an oligarchy, -unrelieved by human charity and unsteadied by human -responsibility. The syndicate, the trust, the corporation—these -are the eldest sons of the Republic for whom the -feudal right of primogeniture is revived, and who inherit -its estate to the impoverishment of their brothers. Let it -be noted that the alliance between those who would centralize -the government and the consolidated money power -is not only close but essential. The one is the necessity of -the other. Establish the money power and there is universal -clamor for strong government. The weak will -demand it for protection against the people restless under -oppression—the patriotic for protection against the plutocracy -that scourges and robs—the corrupt hoping to -buy of one central body distant from local influences what -they could not buy from the legislatures of the States -sitting at their homes—the oligarchs will demand it—as -the privileged few have always demanded it—for the protection -of their privileges and the perpetuity of their -bounty. Thus, hand in hand, will walk—as they have -always walked—the federalist and the capitalist, the centralist -and the monopolist—the strong government protecting -the money power, and the money power the -political standing army of the government. Hand in hand, -compact and organized, one creating the necessity, the -other meeting it; consolidated wealth and centralizing -government; stripping the many of their rights and -aggrandizing the few; distrusting the people but in touch -with the plutocrats; striking down local self-government -and dwarfing the citizens—and at last confronting the people -in the market, in the courts, at the ballot box—everywhere—with -the infamous challenge: “What are you going -<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>to do about it?” And so the government protects and the -barons oppress, and the people suffer and grow strong. -And when the battle for liberty is joined—the centralist -and the plutocrat, entrenched behind the deepening powers -of the government, and the countless ramparts of -money bags, oppose to the vague but earnest onset of the -people the power of the trained phalanx and the conscienceless -strength of the mercenary.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Against this tendency who shall protest? Those who -believe that a central government means a strong government, -and a strong government means repression—those -who believe that this vast Republic, with its diverse interests -and its local needs, can better be governed by liberty -and enlightenment diffused among the people than by -powers and privileges congested at the center—those who -believe that the States should do nothing that the people -can do themselves and the government nothing that the -States and the people can do—those who believe that the -wealth of the central government is a crime rather than a -virtue, and that every dollar not needed for its economical -administration should be left with the people of the -States—those who believe that the hearthstone of the home -is the true altar of liberty and the enlightened conscience -of the citizen the best guarantee of government! Those of -you who note the farmer sending his sons to the city that -they may escape the unequal burdens under which he -has labored, thus diminishing the rural population whose -leisure, integrity and deliberation have corrected the passion -and impulse and corruption of the cities—who note -that while the rich are growing richer, and the poor poorer, -we are lessening that great middle class that, ever since it -met the returning crusaders in England with the demand -that the hut of the humble should be as sacred as the castle -of the great, has been the bulwark and glory of every -English-speaking community—who know that this Republic, -which we shall live to see with 150,000,000 people, -stretching from ocean to ocean, and almost from the arctic -to the torrid zone, cannot be governed by any laws that a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>central despotism could devise or controlled by any armies -it could marshal—you who know these things protest with -all the earnestness of your souls against the policy and the -methods that make them possible.</p> - -<p class='c018'>What is the remedy? To exalt the hearthstone—to -strengthen the home—to build up the individual—to magnify -and defend the principle of local self-government. -Not in deprecation of the Federal government, but to its -glory—not to weaken the Republic, but to strengthen it—not -to check the rich blood that flows to its heart, but -to send it full and wholesome from healthy members -rather than from withered and diseased extremities.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The man who kindles the fire on the hearthstone of an -honest and righteous home burns the best incense to liberty. -He does not love mankind less who loves his neighbor most. -George Eliot has said:</p> - -<p class='c021'>“A human life should be well rooted in some spot of a native land where it -may get the love of tender kinship for the face of the earth, for the sounds and -accents that haunt it, a spot where the definiteness of early memories may be -inwrought with affection, and spread, not by sentimental effort and reflection, -but as a sweet habit of the blest.”</p> - -<p class='c023'>The germ of the best patriotism is in the love that a man -has for the home he inhabits, for the soil he tills, for the trees -that gives him shade, and the hills that stand in his pathway. -I teach my son to love Georgia—to love the soil that -he stands on—the body of my old mother—the mountains -that are her springing breasts, the broad acres that hold -her substance, the dimpling valleys in which her beauty -rests, the forests that sing her songs of lullaby and of praise, -and the brooks that run with her rippling laughter. The -love of home—deep rooted and abiding—that blurs the -eyes of the dying soldier with the vision of an old homestead -amid green fields and clustering trees—that follows -the busy man through the clamoring world, persistent -though put aside, and at last draws his tired feet from the -highway and leads him through shady lanes and well-remembered -paths until, amid the scenes of his boyhood, -he gathers up the broken threads of his life and owns the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>soil his conqueror—this—this lodged in the heart of the -citizen is the saving principle of our government. We note -the barracks of our standing army with its rolling drum -and its fluttering flag as points of strength and protection. -But the citizen standing in the doorway of his home—contented -on his threshold—his family gathered about his -hearthstone—while the evening of a well-spent day closes -in scenes and sounds that are dearest—he shall save the -Republic when the drum tap is futile and the barracks are -exhausted.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This love shall not be pent up or provincial. The home -should be consecrated to humanity, and from its roof-tree -should fly the flag of the Republic. Every simple fruit -gathered there—every sacrifice endured, and every victory -won, should bring better joy and inspiration in the knowledge -that it will deepen the glory of our Republic and -widen the harvest of humanity! Be not like the peasant -of France who hates the Paris he cannot comprehend—but -emulate the example of your fathers in the South, who, -holding to the sovereignty of the States, yet gave to the -Republic its chief glory of statesmanship, and under Jackson -at New Orleans, and Taylor and Scott in Mexico, saved -it twice from the storm of war. Inherit without fear or -shame the principle of local self-government by which your -fathers stood! For though entangled with an institution -foreign to this soil, which, thank God, not planted by their -hands, is now swept away, and with a theory bravely -defended but now happily adjusted—that principle holds -the imperishable truth that shall yet save this Republic. -The integrity of the State, its rights and its powers—these, -maintained with firmness, but in loyalty—these shall yet, -by lodging the option of local affairs in each locality, meet -the needs of this vast and complex government, and check -the headlong rush to that despotism that reason could not -defend, nor the armies of the Czar maintain, among a free -and enlightened people. This issue is squarely made! It -is centralized government and the money power on the -one hand—against the integrity of the States and rights of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>the people on the other. At all hazard, stand with the -people and the threatened States. The choice may not be -easily made. Wise men may hesitate and patriotic men -divide. The culture, the strength, the mightiness of the -rich and strong government—these will tempt and dazzle. -But be not misled. Beneath this splendor is the canker -of a disturbed and oppressed people. It was from the -golden age of Augustus that the Roman empire staggered -to its fall. The integrity of the States and the rights of -the people! Stand there—there is safety—there is the -broad and enduring brotherhood—there, less of glory, but -more of honor! Put patriotism above partisanship—and -wherever the principle that protects the States against the -centralists, and the people against the plutocrats, may lead, -follow without fear or faltering—for there the way of duty -and of wisdom lies!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Exalt the citizen. As the State is the unit of government -he is the unit of the State. Teach him that his home -is his castle, and his sovereignty rests beneath his hat. -Make himself self-respecting, self-reliant and responsible. -Let him lean on the State for nothing that his own arm -can do, and on the government for nothing that his State -can do. Let him cultivate independence to the point of -sacrifice, and learn that humble things with unbartered liberty -are better than splendors bought with its price. Let -him neither surrender his individuality to government, nor -merge it with the mob. Let him stand upright and fearless—a -freeman born of freemen—sturdy in his own -strength—dowering his family in the sweat of his brow—loving -to his State—loyal to his Republic—earnest in his -allegiance wherever it rests, but building his altar in the -midst of his household gods and shrining in his own heart -the uttermost temple of its liberty.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Go out, determined to magnify the community in which -your lot is cast. Cultivate its small economies. Stand by -its young industries. Commercial dependence is a chain -that galls every day. A factory built at home, a book -published, a shoe or a book made, these are steps in that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>diffusion of thought and interest that is needed. Teach -your neighbors to withdraw from the vassalage of distant -capitalists, and pay, under any sacrifice, the mortgage on -the home or the land. By simple and prudent lives stay -within your own resources, and establish the freedom of -your community. Make every village and cross-roads as -far as may be sovereign to its own wants. Learn that -thriving country-sides with room for limbs, conscience, and -liberty are better than great cities with congested wealth -and population. Preserve the straight and simple homogeneity -of our people. Welcome emigrants, but see that -they come as friends and neighbors, to mingle their blood -with ours, to build their houses in our fields, and to plant -their Christian faith on our hills, and honoring our constitution -and reverencing our God, to confirm the simple -beliefs in which we have been reared, and which we should -transmit unsullied to our children. Stand by these old-fashioned -beliefs. Science hath revealed no better faith -than that you learned at your mother’s knee—nor has -knowledge made a wiser and a better book than the worn -old Bible that, thumbed by hands long since still, and -blurred with the tears of eyes long since closed, held the -simple annals of your family and the heart and conscience -of your homes.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Honor and emulate the virtues and the faith of your -forefathers—who, learned, were never wise above a knowledge -of God and His gospel—who, great, were never -exalted above an humble trust in God and His mercy!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let me sum up what I have sought to say in this -hurried address. Your Republic—on the glory of which -depends all that men hold dear—is menaced with great -dangers. Against these dangers defend her, as you would -defend the most precious concerns of your own life. -Against the dangers of centralizing all political powers, -put the approved and imperishable principle of local self-government. -Between the rich and the poor now drifting -into separate camps, build up the great middle class that, -neither drunk with wealth, nor embittered by poverty, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>shall lift up the suffering and control the strong. To the -jangling of races and creeds that threaten the courts of -men and the temples of God, oppose the home and the citizen—a -homogeneous and honest people—and the simple -faith that sustained your fathers and mothers in their stainless -lives and led them serene and smiling into the valley -of the shadow.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let it be understood in my parting words to you that I -am no pessimist as to this Republic. I always bet on sunshine -in America. I know that my country has reached -the point of perilous greatness, and that strange forces not -to be measured or comprehended are hurrying her to -heights that dazzle and blind all mortal eyes—but I know -that beyond the uttermost glory is enthroned the Lord -God Almighty, and that when the hour of her trial has -come He will lift up His everlasting gates and bend down -above her in mercy and in love. For with her He has -surely lodged the ark of His covenant with the sons of men. -Emerson wisely said, “Our whole history looks like the -last effort by Divine Providence in behalf of the human -race.” And the Republic will endure. Centralism will be -checked, and liberty saved—plutocracy overthrown and -equality restored. The struggle for human rights never -goes backward among English-speaking peoples. Our -brothers across the sea have fought from despotism to liberty, -and in the wisdom of local self-government have -planted colonies around the world. This very day Mr. -Gladstone, the wisest man that has lived since your Jefferson -died—with the light of another world beating in his -face until he seems to have caught the wisdom of the Infinite -and towers half human and half divine from his eminence—this -man, turning away from the traditions of his -life, begs his countrymen to strip the crown of its last -usurped authority, and lodge it with the people, where it -belongs. The trend of the times is with us. The world -moves steadily from gloom to brightness. And bending -down humbly as Elisha did, and praying that my eyes shall -be made to see, I catch the vision of this Republic—its -<span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>mighty forces in balance, and its unspeakable glory falling -on all its children—chief among the federation of English-speaking -people—plenty streaming from its borders, and -light from its mountain tops—working out its mission -under God’s approving eye, until the dark continents are -opened—and the highways of earth established, and the -shadows lifted—and the jargon of the nations stilled and -the perplexities of Babel straightened—and under one -language, one liberty, and one God, all the nations of the -world hearkening to the American drum-beat and girding -up their loins, shall march amid the breaking of the -millennial dawn into the paths of righteousness and of -peace!</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span> - <h2 class='c012'>THE FARMER AND THE CITIES.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c030'>MR. <span class='sc'>Grady’s Speech at Elberton, Georgia, in June</span>, 1889.</p> -<p class='c023'><span class='sc'>Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen</span>:—For the -first time in my life I address an audience in the open air. -And as I stand here in this beautiful morning, so shot -through and through with sunshine that the very air is as -molten gold to the touch—under these trees in whose -trunks the rains and suns of years are compacted, and on -whose leaves God has laid His whispering music—here -in His majestic temple, with the brightness of His smile -breaking all about us—standing above the soil instinct -with the touch of His life-giving hand, and full of His -promise and His miracle—and looking up to the clouds -through which His thunders roll, and His lightnings cut -their way, and beyond that to the dazzling glory of the -sun, and yet beyond to the unspeakable splendor of the -universe, flashing and paling until the separate stars are -but as mist in the skies—even to the uplifted jasper gates -through which His everlasting glory streams, my mind -falls back abashed, and I realize how paltry is human -speech, and how idle are the thoughts of men!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Another thought oppresses me. In front of me sit several -thousand people. Over there, in smelling distance, -where we can almost hear the lisping of the mop as it -caresses the barbecued lamb or the pottering of the skewered -pig as he leisurely turns from fat to crackling, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>is being prepared a dinner that I verily believe covers -more provisions than were issued to all the soldiers of -Lee’s army, God bless them, in their last campaign. And -I shudder when I think that I, a single, unarmed, defenseless -man, is all that stands between this crowd and that -dinner. Here then, awed by God’s majesty, and menaced -by man’s appetite, I am tempted to leave this platform -and yield to the boyish impulses that always stir in my -heart amid such scenes, and revert to the days of boyhood -when about the hills of Athens I chased the pacing coon, -or twisted the unwary rabbit, or shot my ramrod at all -manner of birds and beasts—and at night went home to -look up into a pair of gentle eyes and take on my tired -face the benediction of a mother’s kiss and feel on my -weary head a pair of loving hands, now wrinkled and -trembling, but, blessed be God, fairer to me yet than the -hands of mortal women, and stronger yet to lead me than -the hands of mortal man, as they laid a mother’s blessing -there, while bending at her knees I made my best confession -of faith and worshiped at the truest altar I have yet -found in this world. I had rather go out and lay down on -the ground and hug the grass to my breast and mind me of -the time when I builded boyish ambitions on the wooded -hills of Athens, than do aught else to-day. But I recall the -story of Uncle Remus, who when his favorite hero, Brer -Rabbit, was sorely pressed by that arch villain, Brer Fox, -said:</p> - -<p class='c018'>“An’ Brer Rabbit den he climb’d a tree.” “But,” said -the little boy, “Uncle Remus, a rabbit can’t climb a tree.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Doan you min’ dat, honey. Brer Fox pressed dis -rabbit so hard he des bleeged to clim’ a tree.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>I am pressed so hard to-day by your commands that I -am just “bleeged” to make a speech, and so I proceed. I -heartily invoke God’s guidance in what I say, that I shall -utter no word to soil this temple of His, and no sentiment -not approved in His wisdom; and as for you, when -the time comes—as it will come—when you prefer barbecued -shote to raw orator, and feel that you can be happier -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>at that table than in this forum, just say the word and I -will be with you heart and soul!</p> - -<p class='c018'>I am tempted to yield to the gaiety of this scene, to the -flaunting banners of the trees, the downpouring sunshine, -the garnered plenty over there, this smiling and hospitable -crowd, and, throwing serious affairs aside, to speak to you -to-day as the bird sings—without care and without thought. -I should be false to myself and to you if I did, for there -are serious problems that beset our State and our country -that no man, facing, as I do this morning, a great and intelligent -audience, can in honor or in courage disregard. -I shall attempt to make no brilliant speech—but to counsel -with you in plain and simple words, beseeching your -attention and your sympathy as to the dangers of the -present hour, and our duties and our responsibilities.</p> - -<p class='c018'>At Saturday noon in any part of this county you may -note the farmer going from his field, eating his dinner -thoughtfully and then saddling his plow-horse, or starting -afoot and making his way to a neighboring church or schoolhouse. -There he finds from every farm, through every -foot-path, his neighbors gathering to meet him. What is -the object of this meeting? It is not social, it is not frolic, -it is not a pic-nic—the earnest, thoughtful faces, the serious -debate and council, the closed doors and the secret session -forbid this assumption. It is a meeting of men who feel -that in spite of themselves their affairs are going wrong—of -free and equal citizens who feel that they carry unequal -burdens—of toilers who feel that they reap not the just -fruits of their toil—of men who feel that their labor enriches -others while it leaves them poor, and that the sweat -of their bodies, shed freely under God’s command, goes to -clothe the idle and the avaricious in purple and fine linen. -This is a meeting of protest, of resistance. Here the farmer -meets to demand, and organize that he may enforce -his demand, that he shall stand equal with every other -class of citizens—that laws discriminating against him -shall be repealed—that the methods oppressing him shall -be modified or abolished—and that he shall be guaranteed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>that neither government nor society shall abridge, -by statute or custom, his just and honest proportion of the -wealth he created, but that he shall be permitted to garner -in his barns, and enjoy by his hearthstone, the full and -fair fruits of his labor. If this movement were confined to -Elbert, if this disturbing feeling of discontent were shut -in the limits of your county lines, it would still demand -the attention of the thoughtful and patriotic. But, as it -is in Elbert, so it is in every county in Georgia—as in -Georgia, so it is in every State in the South—as in the -South, so in every agricultural State in the Union. In -every rural neighborhood, from Ohio to Texas, from Michigan -to Georgia, the farmers, riding thoughtful through -field and meadow, seek ten thousand schoolhouses or -churches—the muster grounds of this new army—and there, -recounting their wrongs and renewing their pledges, send -up from neighborhoods to county, from county to State, -and State to Republic, the measure of their strength and -the unyielding quality of their determination. The agricultural -army of the Republic is in motion. The rallying -drumbeat has rolled over field and meadow, and from where -the wheat locks the sunshine in its bearded sheaf, and the -clover carpets the earth, and the cotton whitens beneath -the stars, and the tobacco catches the quick aroma of the -rains—everywhere that patient man stands above the soil, -or bends about the furrow, the farmers are ready in squads -and companies and battalions and legions to be led against -what they hold to be an oppression that honest men would -not deserve, and that brave men would not endure. Let -us not fail to comprehend the magnitude and the meaning -of this movement. It is no trifling cause that brings the -farmers into such determined and widespread organization -as this. It is not the skillful arts of the demagogue -that has brought nearly two million farmers into this -perfect and pledge-bound society—but it is a deep and -abiding conviction that, in political and commercial economy -of the day, he is put at a disadvantage that keeps him -poor while other classes grow rich, and that bars his way -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>to prosperity and independence. General Toombs once -said that the farmer, considered the most conservative type -of citizenship, is really the most revolutionary. That the -farmers of France, flocking to the towns and cities from -the unequal burdens of their farms, brought about the -French Revolution, and that about once in every century -the French peasant raided the towns. Three times the -farmers of England have captured and held London. It -was the farmers of Mecklenburg that made the first American -declaration, and Putnam left his plow standing in the -furrow as he hurried to lead the embattled farmers who -fought at Concord and Lexington. I realize it is impossible -that revolution should be the outcome of our industrial -troubles. The farmer of to-day does not consider that -remedy for his wrongs. I quote history to show that the -farmer, segregated and deliberate, does not move on slight -provocation, but organizes only under deep conviction, and -that when once organized and convinced, he is terribly in -earnest, and is not going to rest until his wrongs are -righted.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, here we are confronted with the most thorough -and widespread agricultural movement of this or any other -day. It is the duty alike of farmers and those who stand -in other ranks, to get together and consult as to what is -the real status and what is the patriotic duty. Not in -sullenness, but in frankness. Not as opponents, but as -friends—not as enemies, but as brothers begotten of a -common mother, banded in common allegiance, and marching -to a common destiny. It will not do to say that this -organization will pass away, for if the discontent on which -it is based survives it, it had better have lived and forced -its wrongs to final issue. There is no room for divided -hearts in this State, or in this Republic. If we shall -restore Georgia to her former greatness and prosperity—if -we shall solve the problems that beset the South in honor -and safety—if we shall save this Republic from the dangers -that threaten it—it will require the earnest and united -effort of every patriotic citizen, be he farmer, or merchant, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>or lawyer, or manufacturer. Let us consider then the situation, -and decide what is the duty that lies before us.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In discussing this matter briefly, I beg the ladies to give -me their attention. I have always believed that there are -few affairs of life in which woman should not have a part. -Not obtrusive part—for that is unwomanly. The work -falling best to the hand of woman is such work as is done -by the dews of night—that ride not on the boasting wind, -and shine not in the garish sun, but that come when the -wind is stilled and the sun is gone, and night has wrapped -the earth in its sacred hush, and fall from the distillery of -the stars upon the parched and waiting flowers, as a benediction -from God.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let no one doubt the power of this work, though it lack -pomp and circumstance. Is Bismarck the mightiest power -of this earth, who is attended by martial strains when he -walks abroad, and in whose path thrones are scattered as -trophies? Why, the little housewife alone in her chimney-corner, -musing in her happiness with no trophy in her -path save her husband’s loving heart, and no music on -her ear save the chirping of the cricket beneath her hearthstone, -is his superior. For, while he holds the purse-strings -of Germany, she holds the heart-strings of men. -She who rocks the cradle rules the world. Give me then -your attention, note the conflict that is gathering about -us, and take your place with seeming modesty in the ranks -of those who fight for right. It is not an abstract political -theory that is involved in the contest of which I speak. -It is the integrity and independence of your home that is -at stake. The battle is not pitched in a distant State. -Your home is the battle-field, and by your hearthstones -you shall fight for your household gods. With your husband’s -arms so wound around you that you can feel his -anxious heart beating against your cheek—with your sons, -sturdy and loving, holding your old hands in theirs—here -on the threshold of your house, under the trees that sheltered -your babyhood, with the graves of your dead in that -plain enclosure yonder—here men and women, heart to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>heart, with not a man dismayed, not a woman idle—while -the multiplied wolves of debt and mortgage, and -trust and monopoly, swarm from every thicket; here we -must fight the ultimate battle for the independence of our -people and the happiness of our homes.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now let us look at the facts: First, the notable movement -of the population in America is from the country to -the cities. In 1840—a generation ago, only one-twelfth of -the American people lived in cities of more than 8000 -people. In 1850, one-eighth; in 1860, one-sixth; in 1870, -one-fifth; in 1880, one-fourth. In the past half-century -the population of cities has increased more than four times -as rapidly as that of the country. Mind you, when I say -that the city population has increased in one generation -from 8 per cent. to 25 per cent. in population, I mean the -population of cities of more than 8000 people. There is -not such a city in this congressional district. It is the village -and town population, as well as that of the farms, -that goes to swell so enormously the population of the -great cities. Thus we see diminishing with amazing rapidity -that rural population that is the strength and the safety -of the people—slow to anger and thus a safeguard, but terrible -in its wrath, and thus a tremendous corrective power. -No greater calamity could befall any country than the -sacrifice of its town and village and country life. I rejoice -in Atlanta’s growth, and yet I wonder whether it is worth -what it cost when I know that her population has been -drawn largely from rural Georgia, and that back of her -grandeur are thousands of deserted farms and dismantled -homes. As much as I love her—and she is all to me that -home can be to any man—if I had the disposal of 100,000 -immigrants at her gates to-morrow, 5000 should enter -there, 75,000 should be located in the shops and factories -in Georgia towns and villages, and 20,000 sent to her -farms. It saddens me to see a bright young fellow come -to my office from village or country, and I shudder when I -think for what a feverish and speculative and uncertain -life he has bartered his rural birthright, and surrendered -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>the deliberation and tranquillity of his life on the farm. -It is just that deliberate life that this country needs, for -the fever of the cities is already affecting its system. -Character, like corn, is dug from the soil. A contented -rural population is not only the measure of our strength, -and an assurance of its peace when there should be peace, -and a resource of courage when peace would be cowardice—but -it is the nursery of the great leaders who have made -this country what it is. Washington was born and lived -in the country. Jefferson was a farmer. Henry Clay rode -his horse to the mill in the slashes. Webster dreamed -amid the solitude of Marshfield. Lincoln was a rail splitter. -Our own Hill walked between the handles of the -plow. Brown peddled barefoot the product of his patch. -Stephens found immortality under the trees of his country -home. Toombs and Cobb and Calhoun were country gentlemen, -and afar from the cities’ maddening strife established -that greatness that is the heritage of their people. -The cities produce very few leaders. Almost every man in -our history formed his character in the leisure and deliberation -of village or country life, and drew his strength -from the drugs of the earth even as a child draws his -from his mother’s breast. In the diminution of this rural -population, virtuous and competent, patriotic and honest, -living beneath its own roof-tree, building its altars by its -own hearthstone and shrining in its own heart its liberty -and its conscience, there is abiding cause for regret. In -the corresponding growth of our cities—already center -spots of danger, with their idle classes, their sharp rich -and poor, their corrupt politics, their consorted thieves, -and their clubs and societies of anarchy and socialism—I -see a pressing and impending danger. Let it be noted that -the professions are crowded, that middlemen are multiplied -beyond reason, that the factories can in six months -supply the demand of twelve—that machinery is constantly -taking the place of men—that labor in every -department bids against itself until it is mercilessly in the -hands of the employer, that the new-comers are largely recruits -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>of the idle and dangerous classes, and we can appreciate -something of the danger that comes with this increasing -movement to strip the villages and the farms and send -an increasing volume into the already overcrowded cities. -This is but one phase of that tendency to centralization -and congestion which is threatening the liberties of this -people and the life of this Republic.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, let us go one step further. What is the most -notable financial movement in America? It is the mortgaging -of the farm lands of the country—the bringing of -the farmer into bondage to the money-lender. In Illinois -the farms are mortgaged for $200,000,000, in Iowa for -$140,000,000, in Kansas for $160,000,000, and so on through -the Northwest. In Georgia about $20,000,000 of foreign -capital holds in mortgage perhaps one-fourth of Georgia’s -farms, and the work is but started. Every town has its -loan agent—a dozen companies are quartered in Atlanta, -and the work goes briskly on. A mortgage is the bulldog -of obligations—a very mud-turtle for holding on. It -is the heaviest thing of its weight in the world. I had one -once, and sometimes I used to feel, as it rested on my roof, -deadening the rain that fell there, and absorbing the sunshine, -that it would crush through the shingles and the -rafters and overwhelm me with its dull and persistent -weight, and when at last I paid it off, I went out to look -at the shingles to see if it had not flopped back there of its -own accord. Think of it, Iowa strips from her farmers -$14,000,000 of interest every year, and sends it to New -York and Boston to be reloaned on farms in other States, -and to support and establish the dominion of the money-lenders -over the people. Georgia gathers from her languishing -fields $2,000,000 of interest every year, and sends -it away forever. Could her farmers but keep it at home, -one year’s interest would build factories to supply at cost -every yard of bagging and every pound of guano the -farmers need, establish her exchanges and their warehouses, -and have left more than a million dollars for the -improvement of their farms and their homes. And year -<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>after year this drain not only continues, but deepens. -What will be the end? Ireland has found it. Her peasants -in their mud cabins, sending every tithe of their earnings -to deepen the purple luxury of London, where their -landlords live, realize how poor is that country whose farms -are owned in mortgage or fee simple by those who live -beyond its borders. If every Irish landlord lived on his -estate, bought of his tenants the product of their farms, -and invested his rents in Irish industries, this Irish question -that is the shame of the world would be settled without -legislation or strife. Georgia can never go to Ireland’s -degradation, but every Georgia farm put under mortgage -to a foreign capitalist is a step in that direction, and every -dollar sent out as interest leaves the State that much -poorer. I do not blame the farmers. It is a miracle that -out of their poverty they have done so well. I simply deplore -the result, and ask you to note in the millions of -acres that annually pass under mortgage to the money-lenders -of the East, and in the thousands of independent -country homes annually surrendered as hostages to their -hands, another evidence of that centralization that is -drinking up the life-blood of this broad Republic.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let us go one step further. All protest as to our industrial -condition is met with the statement that America is -startling the world with its growth and progress. Is this -growth symmetrical—is this progress shared by every -class? Let the tax-books of Georgia answer. This year, -for the first time since 1860, our taxable wealth is equal to -that with which, excluding our slaves, we entered the civil -war—$368,000,000. There is cause for rejoicing in this -wonderful growth from the ashes and desolation of twenty -years ago, but the tax-books show that while the towns -and cities are $60,000,000 richer than they were in 1860, -the farmers are $50,000,000 poorer.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Who produced this wealth? In 1865, when our towns -and cities were paralyzed, when not a mine or quarry was -open, hardly a mill or a factory running; when we had -neither money or credit, it was the farmers’ cotton that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>started the mills of industry and of trade. Since that desolate -year, when, urging his horse down the furrow, plowing -through fields on which he had staggered amid the storm of -battle, he began the rehabilitation of Georgia with no friend -near him save nature that smiled at his kindly touch, and -God that sent him the message of cheer through the rustling -leaves, he has dug from the soil of Georgia more than -$1,000,000,000 worth of product. From this mighty resource -great cities have been builded and countless fortunes -amassed—but amid all the splendor he has remained -the hewer of wood and the drawer of water. He had made -the cities $60,000,000 richer than they were when the war -began, and he finds himself, in the sweat of whose brow -this miracle was wrought, $50,000,000 poorer than he then -was. Perhaps not a farmer in this audience knew this -fact—but I doubt if there is one in the audience who has -not felt in his daily life the disadvantage that in twenty -short years has brought about this stupendous difference. -Let the figures speak for themselves. The farmer—the -first figure to stumble amid the desolate dawn of our new -life and to salute the coming day—hurrying to market -with the harvest of his hasty planting that Georgia might -once more enter the lists of the living States and buy the -wherewithal to still her wants and clothe her nakedness—always -apparently the master of the situation, has he not -been really its slave, when he finds himself at the end of -twenty hard and faithful years $110,000,000 out of balance?</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, let us review the situation a moment. I have -shown you, first, that the notable drift of population is to -the loss of village and country, and the undue and dangerous -growth of the city; second, that the notable movement -of finance is that which is bringing villages and country -under mortgage to the city; and third, that they who handle -the products for sale profit more thereby than those who -create them—the difference in one State in twenty years -reaching the enormous sum of $110,000,000. Are these -healthy tendencies? Do they not demand the earnest and -thoughtful consideration of every patriotic citizen? The -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>problem of the day is to check these three currents that -are already pouring against the bulwarks of our peace and -prosperity. To anchor the farmer to his land and the villager -to his home; to enable him to till the land under -equal conditions and to hold that home in independence; -to save with his hands the just proportion of his labor, that -he may sow in content and reap in justice,—this is what -we need. The danger of the day is centralization, its -salvation diffusion. Cut that word deep in your heart. -This Republic differs from Russia only because the powers -centralized there in one man are here diffused among the -people. Western Ohio is happy and tranquil, while -Chicago is feverish and dangerous, because the people diffused -in the towns and the villages of the one are centralized -and packed in the tenements of the other; but of all -centralization that menaces our peace and threatens our -liberties, is the consolidation of capital—and of all the -diffusion that is needed in this Republic, congesting at so -many points, is the leveling of our colossal fortunes and -the diffusion of our gathered wealth amid the great middle -classes of this people. As this question underruns the -three tendencies we have been discussing, let us consider -it a moment.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Few men comprehend the growth of private fortunes in -this country, and the encroachments they have made on -the rest of the people. Take one instance: A man in -Chicago that had a private fortune secured control of all -the wheat in the country, and advanced the price until -flour went up three dollars a barrel. When he collected -$4,000,000 of this forced tribute from the people, he opened -his corner and released the wheat, and the world, forgetting -the famishing children from whose hungry lips he had stolen -the crust, praised him as the king of finance and trade. -Let us analyze this deal. The farmer who raised the wheat -got not one cent of the added profit. The mills that ground -it not one cent. Every dollar went to swell the toppling -fortunes of him who never sowed it to the ground, nor fed -it to the thundering wheels, but who knew it only as the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>chance instrument of his infamous scheme. Why, our -fathers declared war against England, their mother country, -from whose womb they came, because she levied two cents -a pound on our tea, and yet, without a murmur, we submit -to ten times this tax placed on the bread of our mouths, -and levied by a private citizen for no reason save his greed, -and no right save his might. Were a man to enter an -humble home in England, bind the father helpless, stamp -out the fire on the hearthstone, empty the scanty larder, -and leave the family for three weeks cold and hungry and -helpless, he would be dealt with by the law; and yet four -men in New York cornered the world’s cotton crop and -held it until the English spindles were stopped and 14,000,000 -operatives sent idle and empty-handed to their homes, -to divide their last crust with their children, and then sit -down and suffer until the greed of the speculators was filled. -The sugar refineries combined their plants at a cost of -$14,000,000, and so raised the price of sugar that they -made the first year $9,500,000 profit, and since then have -advanced it rapidly until we sweeten our coffee absolutely -in their caprice. When the bagging mills were threatened -with a reduced tariff, they made a trust and openly boasted -that they intended to make one season’s profits pay the -entire cost of their mills—and these precious villains, whom -thus far the lightnings have failed to blast, having carried -out their infamous boast, organized for a deeper steal this -season. And so it goes. There is not a thing we eat or -drink, nor an article we must have for the comfort of our -homes, that may not be thus seized and controlled and -made an instrument for the shameless plundering of the -people. It is a shame—this people patient and cheerful -under the rise or fall of prices that come with the failure -of God’s season’s charge as its compensation—or under the -advance at the farm which enriches the farmer, or under -that competitive demand which bespeaks brisk prosperity—this -people made the prey and the sport of plunderers who -levy tribute through a system that mocks at God’s recurring -rains, knows not the farmer, and locks competition in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>the grasp of monopoly. And the millions, thus wrung -from the people, loaned back to them at usury, laying the -blight of the mortgage on their homes, and the obligation -of debt on their manhood. Talk about the timidity of -capital. That is a forgotten phrase. In the power and -irresponsibility of this sudden and enormous wealth is bred -an insolence that knows no bounds. “The public be -damned!” was the sentiment of the plutocrats, speaking -through the voice of Vanderbilt’s millions. In cornering -the product and levying the tribute—in locking up abundant -supply until the wheels of industry stop—in oppressing -through trusts, and domineering in the strength of -corporate power, the plutocrats do what no political party -would dare attempt and what no government on this earth -would enforce. The Czar of Russia would not dare hold -up a product until the mill-wheels were idle, or lay an unusual -tax on bread and meat to replenish his coffers, and -yet these things our plutocrats, flagrant and irresponsible, -do day after day until public indignation is indignant and -shame is lost in wonder.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And when an outraged people turn to government for -help what do they find? Their government in the hands of -a party that is in sympathy with their oppressors—that -was returned to power with votes purchased with their -money—and whose confessed leaders declared that trusts -are largely private concerns with which the government -had naught to do. Not only is the dominant party the -apologist of the plutocrats and the beneficiary of their -crimes, but it is based on that principle of centralization -through which they came into life and on which alone they -can exist. It holds that sovereignty should be taken from -the States and lodged with the nation—that political powers -and privileges should be wrested from the people and -guarded at the capital. It distrusts the people, and even -now demands that your ballot-boxes shall be hedged about -by its bayonets. It declares that a strong government is -better than a free government, and that national authority, -backed by national armies and treasury, is a better guarantee -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>of peace and prosperity and liberty and enlightenment -diffused among the people. To defend this policy, -that cannot be maintained by argument or sustained by -the love or confidence of the people, it rallies under its flag -the mercenaries of the Republic, the syndicate, the trust, -the monopolist, and the plutocrat, and strengthening them -by grant and protection, rejoices as they grow richer and -the people grow poorer. Confident in the debauching -power of money and the unscrupulous audacity of their -creatures, they catch the spirit of Vanderbilt’s defiance -and call aloud from their ramparts, “the people be -damned!” I charge that this party has bought its way for -twenty years. Its nucleus was the passion that survived -the war—and around this it has gathered the protected -manufacturer, the pensioned soldier, the licensed monopolist, -the privileged corporation, the unchallenged trust—all -whom power can daunt, or money can buy, and with -these in close and constant phalanx it holds the government -against the people. Not a man in all its ranks that -is not influenced by prejudice or bought by privilege.</p> - -<p class='c018'>What a spectacle, my countrymen! This free Republic -in the hands of a party that withdraws sovereignty from -the people that its own authority may be made supreme—that -fans the smouldering embers of war, and loosing -among the people the dogs of privilege and monopoly to -hunt, and harrow and rend, that its lines may be made -stronger and its ramparts fortified. And now, it is committed -to a crime that is without precedent or parallel in -the history of any people, and this crime it is obliged by -its own necessity as well as by its pledge to commit as soon -as it gets the full reins of power. This crime is hidden in -the bill known as the service pension bill, which pensions -every man who enlisted for sixty days for the Union army. -Let us examine this pension list. Twelve years ago it -footed $46,000,000. Last year it was $81,000,000. This -year it has already run to over $100,000,000. Of this -amount Georgia pays about $3,500,000 a year. Think of -it. The money that her people have paid, through indirect -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>taxation into the treasury, is given, let us say to Iowa, for -that State just equals Georgia in population. Every year -$3,500,000 wrung from her pockets and sent into Iowa as -pensions for her soldiers. Since 1865, out of her poverty, -Georgia has paid $51,000,000 as pensions to Northern soldiers—one-sixth -of the value of her whole property. And -now it is proposed to enlarge the pension list until it -includes every man who enlisted for sixty days. They will -not fail. The last Congress passed a pension bill that -Commissioner Black—himself a gallant Union general—studied -deliberately, and then told the President that if he -signed it, it would raise the pension list to $200,000,000, -and had it not been for the love of the people that ran in -the veins of Grover Cleveland and the courage of Democracy -which flamed in his heart, that bill would have been -law to-day. A worse bill will be offered. There is a surplus -of $120,000,000 in the treasury. While that remains -it endangers the protective tariff, behind which the trained -captains of the Republican party muster their men. But -let the pension list be lifted to $200,000,000 a year. Then -the surplus is gone and a deficiency created, and the protective -tariff must be not only perpetuated but deepened, -and the vigilance of the spies and collectors increased to -meet the demands of the government. And back of it all -will be mustered the army of a million and a half pensioners, -drawing their booty from the Republican party and -giving it in turn their purchased allegiance and support.</p> - -<p class='c018'>My countrymen, a thousand times I have thought of -that historic scene beneath the apple-tree at Appomattox, -of Lee’s 8000 ragged, half-starved immortals, going home -to begin anew amid the ashes of their homes, and the graves -of their dead, the weary struggle for existence, and Grant’s -68,000 splendid soldiers, well fed and equipped, going home -to riot amid the plenty of a grateful and prosperous people, -and I have thought how hard it was that out of our poverty -we should be taxed to pay their pension, and to divide with -this rich people the crust we scraped up from the ashes of -our homes. And I have thought when their maimed and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>helpless soldiers were sheltered in superb homes, and lapped -in luxury, while our poor cripples limped along the highway -or hid their shame in huts, or broke bitter bread in the -county poor-house, how hard it was that, of all the millions -we send them annually, we can save not one dollar to go to -our old heroes, who deserve so much and get so little. And -yet we made no complaint. We were willing that every -Union soldier made helpless by the war should have his -pension and his home, and thank God, without setting our -crippled soldiers on the curbstone of distant Babylons to -beg, as blind Belisarius did, from the passing stranger. We -have provided them a home in which they can rest in honorable -peace until God has called them hence to a home not -made with hands, eternal in the heavens. We have not -complained that our earnings have gone to pension Union -soldiers—the maimed soldiers of the Union armies. But -the scheme to rob the people that every man who enlisted -for sixty days, or his widow, shall be supported at public -expense is an outrage that must not be submitted to. It -is not patriotism—it is politics. It is not honesty—it is -plunder. The South has played a patient and a waiting -game for twenty years, fearing to protest against what she -knew to be wrong in the fear that she would be misunderstood. -I fear that she has gained little by this course save -the contempt of her enemies. The time has come when she -should stand upright among the States of this Republic and -declare her mind and stand by her convictions. She must -not stand silent while this crowning outrage is perpetrated. -It means that the Republican party will loot the treasury -to recruit its ranks—that $70,000,000 a year shall be taken -from the South to enrich the North, thus building up one -section against another—that the protective tariff shall be -deepened, thus building one class against another, and that -the party of trusts and monopoly shall be kept in power, -the autonomy of the Republic lost, the government centralized, -the oligarchs established, and justice to the people -postponed. But this party will not prevail, even though -its pension bill should pass, and its pretorial God be established -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>in every Northern State. It was Louis XVI. who -peddled the taxing privileges to his friends, and when the -people protested surrounded himself with an army of Swiss -mercenaries. His minister, Neckar, said to him: “Sire, I -beseech you send away these Swiss and trust your people”; -but the king, confident in his strength and phalanx, buckled -it close about him and plundered the people until his head -paid the penalty of his crime. So this party, bartering -privileges and setting up classes, may feel secure as it -closes the ranks of its mercenaries, but some day the great -American heart will burst with righteous wrath, and the -voice of the people, which is the voice of God, will challenge -the traitors, and the great masses will rise in their -might, and breaking down the defenses of the oligarchs, -will hurl them from power and restore this Republic to the -old moorings from which it had been swept by the storm.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The government can protect its citizens. It is of the -people, and it shall not perish from the face of the earth. -It can top off these colossal fortunes and, by an income tax, -retard their growth. It can set a limit to personal and -corporate wealth. It can take trusts and syndicates by the -throat. It can shatter monopoly; it can equalize the burden -of taxation; it can distribute its privileges impartially; -it can clothe with credit its land now discredited at its -banks; it can lift the burdens from the farmer’s shoulders, -give him equal strength to bear them—it can trust the -people in whose name this Republic was founded; in whose -courage it was defended; in whose wisdom it has been -administered, and whose stricken love and confidence it can -not survive.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But the government, no matter what it does, does not do -all that is needed, nor the most; that is conceded, for all -true reform must begin with the people at their homes. A -few Sundays ago I stood on a hill in Washington. My -heart thrilled as I looked on the towering marble of my -country’s Capitol, and a mist gathered in my eyes as, standing -there, I thought of its tremendous significance and the -powers there assembled, and the responsibilities there -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>centered—its presidents, its congress, its courts, its gathered -treasure, its army, its navy, and its 60,000,000 of citizens. -It seemed to me the best and mightiest sight that the sun -could find in its wheeling course—this majestic home of -a Republic that has taught the world its best lessons of -liberty—and I felt that if wisdom, and justice, and honor -abided therein, the world would stand indebted to this -temple on which my eyes rested, and in which the ark of -my covenant was lodged for its final uplifting and regeneration.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A few days later I visited a country home. A modest, -quiet house sheltered by great trees and set in a circle of -field and meadow, gracious with the promise of harvest—barns -and cribs well filled and the old smoke-house odorous -with treasure—the fragrance of pink and hollyhock mingling -with the aroma of garden and orchard, and resonant -with the hum of bees and poultry’s busy clucking—inside -the house, thrift, comfort and that cleanliness that is next -to godliness—the restful beds, the open fireplace, the books -and papers, and the old clock that had held its steadfast -pace amid the frolic of weddings, that had welcomed in -steady measure the newborn babes of the family, and kept -company with the watchers of the sick bed, and had ticked -the solemn requiem of the dead; and the well-worn Bible -that, thumbed by fingers long since stilled, and blurred -with tears of eyes long since closed, held the simple annals -of the family, and the heart and conscience of the home. -Outside stood the master, strong and wholesome and -upright; wearing no man’s collar; with no mortgage on -his roof, and no lien on his ripening harvest; pitching his -crops in his own wisdom, and selling them in his own time -in his chosen market; master of his lands and master of -himself. Near by stood his aged father, happy in the -heart and home of his son. And as they started to the -house the old man’s hands rested on the young man’s -shoulder, touching it with the knighthood of the fourth -commandment, and laying there the unspeakable blessing -of an honored and grateful father. As they drew near the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>door the old mother appeared; the sunset falling on her -face, softening its wrinkles and its tenderness, lighting up -her patient eyes, and the rich music of her heart trembling -on her lips, as in simple phrase she welcomed her husband -and son to their home. Beyond was the good wife, true of -touch and tender, happy amid her household cares, clean -of heart and conscience, the helpmate and the buckler of -her husband. And the children, strong and sturdy, trooping -down the lane with the lowing herd, or weary of simple -sport, seeking, as truant birds do, the quiet of the old home -nest. And I saw the night descend on that home, falling -gently as from the wings of the unseen dove. And the -stars swarmed in the bending skies—the trees thrilled -with the cricket’s cry—the restless bird called from the -neighboring wood—and the father, a simple man of God, -gathering the family about him, read from the Bible the -old, old story of love and faith, and then went down in -prayer, the baby hidden amid the folds of its mother’s -dress, and closed the record of that simple day by calling -down the benediction of God on the family and the home!</p> - -<p class='c018'>And as I gazed the memory of the great Capitol faded -from my brain. Forgotten its treasure and its splendor. -And I said, “Surely here—here in the homes of the people -is lodged the ark of the covenant of my country. Here is -its majesty and its strength. Here the beginning of its -power and the end of its responsibility.” The homes of -the people; let us keep them pure and independent, and -all will be well with the Republic. Here is the lesson our -foes may learn—here is work the humblest and weakest -hands may do. Let us in simple thrift and economy make -our homes independent. Let us in frugal industry make -them self-sustaining. In sacrifice and denial let us keep -them free from debt and obligation. Let us make them -homes of refinement in which we shall teach our daughters -that modesty and patience and gentleness are the charms -of woman. Let us make them temples of liberty, and teach -our sons that an honest conscience is every man’s first -political law. That his sovereignty rests beneath his hat, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>and that no splendor can rob him and no force justify the -surrender of the simplest right of a free and independent -citizen. And above all, let us honor God in our homes—anchor -them close in His love. Build His altars above our -hearthstones, uphold them in the set and simple faith of -our fathers and crown them with the Bible—that book of -books in which all the ways of life are made straight and -the mystery of death is made plain. The home is the -source of our national life. Back of the national Capitol -and above it stands the home. Back of the President and -above him stands the citizen. What the home is, this and -nothing else will the Capitol be. What the citizen wills, -this and nothing else will the President be.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, my friends, I am no farmer. I have not sought -to teach you the details of your work, for I know little of -them. I have not commended your splendid local advantages, -for that I shall do elsewhere. I have not discussed -the differences between the farmer and other classes, for I -believe in essential things there is no difference between -them, and that minor differences should be sacrificed to the -greater interest that depends on a united people. I seek -not to divide our people, but to unite them. I should -despise myself if I pandered to the prejudice of either class -to win the applause of the other.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But I have noted these great movements that destroy -the equilibrium and threaten the prosperity of my -country, and standing above passion and prejudice or -demagoguery I invoke every true citizen, fighting from his -hearthstone outward, with the prattle of his children on -his ear, and the hand of his wife and mother closely -clasped, to determine here to make his home sustaining -and independent, and to pledge eternal hostility to the -forces that threaten our liberties, and the party that stands -behind it.</p> - -<p class='c018'>When I think of the tremendous force of the currents -against which we must fight, of the great political party -that impels that fight, of the countless host of mercenaries -that fight under its flag, of the enormous powers of government -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>privilege and monopoly that back them up, I confess -my heart sinks within me, and I grow faint. But I remember -that the servant of Elisha looked abroad from -Samaria and beheld the hosts that encompassed the city, -and said in agonized fear: “Alas, master, what shall we -do?” and the answer of Elisha was the answer of every -brave man and faithful heart in all ages: “Fear not, for -they that be with us are more than they that be with -them,” and this faith opened the eyes of the servant of -the man of God, and he looked up again, and lo, the air -was filled with chariots of fire, and the mountains were -filled with horsemen, and they compassed the city about -as a mighty and unconquerable host. Let us fight in -such faith, and fear not. The air all about us is filled -with chariots of unseen allies, and the mountains are -thronged with unseen knights that shall fight with us. -Fear not, for they that be with us are more than they that -be with them. Buckle on your armor, gird about your -loins, stand upright and dauntless while I summon you to -the presence of the immortal dead. Your fathers and mine -yet live, though they speak not, and will consecrate this -air with their wheeling chariots, and above them and -beyond them to the Lord God Almighty, King of the -Hosts in whose unhindered splendor we stand this morning. -Look up to them, be of good cheer, and faint not, for -they shall fight with us when we strike for liberty and -truth, and all the world, though it be banded against -us, shall not prevail against them.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span> - <h2 class='c012'>AT THE BOSTON BANQUET.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c030'><span class='sc'>IN his Speech at the Annual Banquet of the Boston -Merchants’ Association in December, 1889, Mr. -Grady said:</span></p> -<p class='c023'><span class='sc'>Mr. President</span>: Bidden by your invitation to a discussion -of the race problem—forbidden by occasion to make a -political speech—I appreciate in trying to reconcile orders -with propriety the predicament of the little maid who, -bidden to learn to swim, was yet adjured, “Now, go, my -darling, hang your clothes on a hickory limb, and don’t -go near the water.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The stoutest apostle of the church, they say, is the missionary, -and the missionary, wherever he unfurls his flag, -will never find himself in deeper need of unction and address -than I, bidden to-night to plant the standard of a Southern -Democrat in Boston’s banquet hall, and discuss the problem -of the races in the home of Phillips and of Sumner. But, -Mr. President, if a purpose to speak in perfect frankness -and sincerity; if earnest understanding of the vast interests -involved; if a consecrating sense of what disaster -may follow further misunderstanding and estrangement, if -these may be counted to steady undisciplined speech and -to strengthen an untried arm—then, sir, I find the courage -to proceed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Happy am I that this mission has brought my feet at -last to press New England’s historic soil, and my eyes to -the knowledge of her beauty and her thrift. Here, within -<span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>touch of Plymouth Rock and Bunker Hill—where Webster -thundered and Longfellow sang, Emerson thought and -Channing preached—here in the cradle of American letters, -and almost of American liberty, I hasten to make the obeisance -that every American owes New England when first he -stands uncovered in her mighty presence. Strange apparition! -This stern and unique figure—carved from the ocean -and the wilderness—its majesty kindling and growing -amid the storms of winters and of wars—until at last the -gloom was broken, its beauty disclosed in the sunshine, -and the heroic workers rested at its base—while startled -kings and emperors gazed and marveled that from the rude -touch of this handful, cast on a bleak and unknown shore, -should have come the embodied genius of human government, -and the perfected model of human liberty! God -bless the memory of those immortal workers—and prosper -the fortunes of their living sons—and perpetuate the -inspiration of their handiwork.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Two years ago, sir, I spoke some words in New York -that caught the attention of the North. As I stand here -to reiterate, as I have done everywhere, every word I then -uttered—to declare that the sentiments I then avowed were -universally approved in the South—I realize that the confidence -begotten by that speech is largely responsible for -my presence here to-night. I should dishonor myself if I -betrayed that confidence by uttering one insincere word, -or by withholding one essential element of the truth. -Apropos of this last, let me confess, Mr. President—before -the praise of New England has died on my lips—that I -believe the best product of her present life is the procession -of 17,000 Vermont Democrats that for twenty-two years, -undiminished by death, unrecruited by birth or conversion, -have marched over their rugged hills, cast their Democratic -ballots, and gone back home to pray for their unregenerate -neighbors, and awake to read the record of 26,000 Republican -majority. May the God of the helpless and the heroic -help them—and may their sturdy tribe increase!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Far to the south, Mr. President, separated from this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>section by a line, once defined in irrepressible difference, -once traced in fratricidal blood, and now, thank God, but -a vanishing shadow, lies the fairest and richest domain -of this earth. It is the home of a brave and hospitable -people. There, is centered all that can please or prosper -humankind. A perfect climate, above a fertile soil, yields -to the husbandman every product of the temperate zone. -There, by night the cotton whitens beneath the stars, and -by day the wheat locks the sunshine in its bearded sheaf. -In the same field the clover steals the fragrance of the -wind, and the tobacco catches the quick aroma of the rains. -There, are mountains stored with exhaustless treasures; -forests, vast and primeval, and rivers that, tumbling or -loitering, run wanton to the sea. Of the three essential -items of all industries—cotton, iron and wool—that region -has easy control. In cotton, a fixed monopoly—in iron, -proven supremacy—in timber, the reserve supply of the -Republic. From this assured and permanent advantage, -against which artificial conditions cannot much longer -prevail, has grown an amazing system of industries. Not -maintained by human contrivance of tariff or capital, afar -off from the fullest and cheapest source of supply, but -resting in Divine assurance, within touch of field and mine -and forest—not set amid costly farms from which competition -has driven the farmer in despair, but amid cheap and -sunny lands, rich with agriculture, to which neither season -nor soil has set a limit—this system of industries is mounting -to a splendor that shall dazzle and illumine the world.</p> - -<p class='c018'>That, sir, is the picture and the promise of my home—a -land better and fairer than I have told you, and yet -but fit setting, in its material excellence, for the loyal -and gentle quality of its citizenship. Against that, sir, we -have New England, recruiting the Republic from its sturdy -loins, shaking from its overcrowded hives new swarms of -workers and touching this land all over with its energy -and its courage. And yet, while in the Eldorado of which -I have told you, but 15 per cent. of lands are cultivated, its -mines scarcely touched and its population so scant that, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>were it set equidistant, the sound of the human voice could -not be heard from Virginia to Texas—while on the threshold -of nearly every house in New England stands a son, -seeking with troubled eyes some new land in which to -carry his modest patrimony, the strange fact remains that -in 1880 the South had fewer Northern-born citizens than -she had in 1870—fewer in ’70 than in ’60. Why is this? -Why is it, sir, though the sectional line be now but a mist -that the breath may dispel, fewer men of the North have -crossed it over to the South than when it was crimson -with the best blood of the Republic, or even when the -slaveholder stood guard every inch of its way?</p> - -<p class='c018'>There can be but one answer. It is the very problem -we are now to consider. The key that opens that problem -will unlock to the world the fairest half of this Republic, -and free the halted feet of thousands whose eyes are -already kindling with its beauty. Better than this, it will -open the hearts of brothers for thirty years estranged, and -clasp in lasting comradeship a million hands now withheld -in doubt. Nothing, sir, but this problem, and the suspicions -it breeds, hinders a clear understanding and a perfect -union. Nothing else stands between us and such love as -bound Georgia and Massachusetts at Valley Forge and -Yorktown, chastened by the sacrifices at Manassas and -Gettysburg, and illumined with the coming of better work -and a nobler destiny than was ever wrought with the sword -or sought at the cannon’s mouth.</p> - -<p class='c018'>If this does not invite your patient hearing to-night—hear -one thing more. My people, your brothers in the -South—brothers in blood, in destiny, in all that is best in -our past and future—are so beset with this problem that -their very existence depends upon its right solution. Nor -are they wholly to blame for its presence. The slave-ships -of the Republic sailed from your ports—the slaves worked -in our fields. You will not defend the traffic, nor I the institution. -But I do hereby declare that in its wise and humane -administration, in lifting the slave to heights of which -he had not dreamed in his savage home, and giving him a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>happiness he has not yet found in freedom—our fathers -left their sons a saving and excellent heritage. In the -storm of war this institution was lost. I thank God as -heartily as you do that human slavery is gone forever from -the American soil. But the freedman remains. With him -a problem without precedent or parallel. Note its appalling -conditions. Two utterly dissimilar races on the same -soil—with equal political and civil rights—almost equal in -numbers, but terribly unequal in intelligence and responsibility—each -pledged against fusion—one for a century in -servitude to the other, and freed at last by a desolating -war—the experiment sought by neither, but approached -by both with doubt—these are the conditions. Under -these, adverse at every point, we are required to carry these -two races in peace and honor to the end.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Never, sir, has such a task been given to mortal stewardship. -Never before in this Republic has the white race -divided on the rights of an alien race. The red man was -cut down as a weed, because he hindered the way of the -American citizen. The yellow man was shut out of this -Republic because he is an alien and inferior. The red man -was owner of the land—the yellow man highly civilized -and assimilable—but they hindered both sections and are -gone! But the black man, affecting but one section, is -clothed with every privilege of government and pinned to -the soil, and my people commanded to make good at any -hazard, and at any cost, his full and equal heirship of -American privilege and prosperity. It matters not that -every other race has been routed or excluded, without -rhyme or reason. It matters not that wherever the whites -and blacks have touched, in any era or in any clime, there -has been irreconcilable violence. It matters not that no -two races, however similar, have lived anywhere at any -time on the same soil with equal rights in peace! In spite -of these things we are commanded to make good this change -of American policy which has not perhaps changed American -prejudice—to make certain here what has elsewhere -been impossible between whites and blacks—and to reverse, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>under the very worst conditions, the universal verdict of -racial history. And driven, sir, to this superhuman task -with an impatience that brooks no delay—a rigor that -accepts no excuse—and a suspicion that discourages frankness -and sincerity. We do not shrink from this trial. It -is so interwoven with our industrial fabric that we cannot -disentangle it if we would—so bound up in our honorable -obligation to the world, that we would not if we could. -Can we solve it? The God who gave it into our hands, -He alone can know. But this the weakest and wisest of us -do know; we cannot solve it with less than your tolerant -and patient sympathy—with less than the knowledge that -the blood that runs in your veins is our blood—and that -when we have done our best, whether the issue be lost or -won, we shall feel your strong arms about us and hear the -beating of your approving hearts.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The resolute, clear-headed, broad-minded men of the -South—the men whose genius made glorious every page of -the first seventy years of American history—whose courage -and fortitude you tested in five years of the fiercest -war—whose energy has made bricks without straw and -spread splendor amid the ashes of their war-wasted -homes—these men wear this problem in their hearts and -their brains, by day and by night. They realize, as you -cannot, what this problem means—what they owe to this -kindly and dependent race—the measure of their debt to -the world in whose despite they defended and maintained -slavery. And though their feet are hindered in its undergrowth, -and their march encumbered with its burdens, they -have lost neither the patience from which comes clearness, -nor the faith from which comes courage. Nor, sir, when -in passionate moments is disclosed to them that vague and -awful shadow, with its lurid abysses and its crimson -stains, into which I pray God they may never go, are they -struck with more of apprehension than is needed to complete -their consecration!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Such is the temper of my people. But what of the problem -itself? Mr. President, we need not go one step further -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>unless you concede right here the people I speak for -are as honest, as sensible, and as just as your people, seeking -as earnestly as you would in their place, to rightly -solve the problem that touches them at every vital point. -If you insist that they are ruffians, blindly striving with -bludgeon and shotgun to plunder and oppress a race, then -I shall sacrifice my self-respect and tax your patience in -vain. But admit that they are men of common sense and -common honesty—wisely modifying an environment they -cannot wholly disregard—guiding and controlling as best -they can the vicious and irresponsible of either race—compensating -error with frankness, and retrieving in patience -what they lose in passion—and conscious all the time that -wrong means ruin,—admit this, and we may reach an -understanding to-night.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The President of the United States in his late message -to Congress, discussing the plea that the South should be -left to solve this problem, asks: “Are they at work upon -it? What solution do they offer? When will the black -man cast a free ballot? When will he have the civil -rights that are his?” I shall not here protest against the -partisanry that, for the first time in our history in time of -peace, has stamped with the great seal of our government -a stigma upon the people of a great and loyal section, -though I gratefully remember that the great dead soldier -who held the helm of state for the eight stormiest years of -reconstruction never found need for such a step; and -though there is no personal sacrifice I would not make to -remove this cruel and unjust imputation on my people -from the archives of my country! But, sir, backed by a -record on every page of which is progress, I venture to -make earnest and respectful answer to the questions that -are asked. I bespeak your patience, while with vigorous -plainness of speech, seeking your judgment rather than -your applause, I proceed step by step. We give to the -world this year a crop of 7,500,000 bales of cotton, worth -$45,000,000, and its cash equivalent in grain, grasses and -fruit. This enormous crop could not have come from the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>hands of sullen and discontented labor. It comes from -peaceful fields, in which laughter and gossip rise above -the hum of industry, and contentment runs with the singing -plow.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is claimed that this ignorant labor is defrauded of its -just hire. I present the tax-books of Georgia, which show -that the negro, 25 years ago a slave, has in Georgia alone -$10,000,000 of assessed property, worth twice that much. -Does not that record honor him, and vindicate his neighbors? -What people, penniless, illiterate, has done so well? -For every Afro-American agitator, stirring the strife in -which alone he prospers, I can show you a thousand -negroes, happy in their cabin homes, tilling their own land -by day, and at night taking from the lips of their children -the helpful message their State sends them from the schoolhouse -door. And the schoolhouse itself bears testimony. -In Georgia we added last year $250,000 to the school fund, -making a total of more than $1,000,000—and this in the -face of prejudice not yet conquered—of the fact that the -whites are assessed for $368,000,000, the blacks for $10,000,000, -and yet 49 per cent. of the beneficiaries are black -children—and in the doubt of many wise men if education -helps, or can help, our problem. Charleston, with her -taxable values cut half in two since 1860, pays more in proportion -for public schools than Boston. Although it is -easier to give much out of much than little out of little, -the South with one-seventh of the taxable property of the -country, with relatively larger debt, having received only -one-twelfth as much public land, and having back of its -tax-books none of the half billion of bonds that enrich the -North—and though it pays annually $26,000,000 to your -section as pensions—yet gives nearly one-sixth of the -public-school fund. The South since 1865 has spent $122,000,000 -in education, and this year is pledged to $37,000,000 -for state and city schools, although the blacks paying one-thirtieth -of the taxes get nearly one-half of the fund.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Go into our fields and see whites and blacks working -side by side. On our buildings in the same squad. In our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>shops at the same forge. Often the blacks crowd the -whites from work, or lower wages by the greater need or -simpler habits, and yet are permitted because we want to -bar them from no avenue in which their feet are fitted to -tread. They could not there be elected orators of the -white universities, as they have been here, but they do -enter there a hundred useful trades that are closed against -them here. We hold it better and wiser to tend the weeds -in the garden than to water the exotic in the window. In -the South, there are negro lawyers, teachers, editors, dentists, -doctors, preachers, multiplying with the increasing -ability of their race to support them. In villages and -towns they have their military companies equipped from -the armories of the State, their churches and societies built -and supported largely by their neighbors. What is the -testimony of the courts? In penal legislation we have -steadily reduced felonies to misdemeanors, and have led -the world in mitigating punishment for crime, that we -might save, as far as possible, this dependent race from its -own weakness. In our penitentiary record 60 per cent. of the -prosecutors are negroes, and in every court the negro criminal -strikes the colored juror, that white men may judge -his case. In the North, one negro in every 1865 is in -jail—in the South only one in 446. In the North the percentage -of negro prisoners is six times as great as native -whites—in the South, only four times as great. If prejudice -wrongs him in southern courts, the record shows it -to be deeper in northern courts.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I assert here, and a bar as intelligent and upright as -the bar of Massachusetts will solemnly indorse my assertion, -that in the southern courts, from highest to lowest, -pleading for life, liberty or property, the negro has distinct -advantage because he is a negro, apt to be over-reached, -oppressed—and that this advantage reaches from -the juror in making his verdict to the judge in measuring -his sentence. Now, Mr. President, can it be seriously -maintained that we are terrorizing the people from whose -willing hands come every year $1,000,000,000 of farm -<span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>crops? Or have robbed a people, who twenty-five years -from unrewarded slavery have amassed in one State -$20,000,000 of property? Or that we intend to oppress the -people we are arming every day? Or deceive them when -we are educating them to the utmost limit of our ability? -Or outlaw them when we work side by side with them? -Or re-enslave them under legal forms when for their benefit -we have even imprudently narrowed the limit of felonies -and mitigated the severity of law? My fellow countryman, -as you yourself may sometimes have to appeal to the -bar of human judgment for justice and for right, give to -my people to-night the fair and unanswerable conclusion of -these incontestible facts.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But it is claimed that under this fair seeming there is -disorder and violence. This I admit. And there will be -until there is one ideal community on earth after which -we may pattern. But how widely it is misjudged! It is -hard to measure with exactness whatever touches the -negro. His helplessness, his isolation, his century of servitude, -these dispose us to emphasize and magnify his -wrongs. This disposition, inflamed by prejudice and partisanry, -has led to injustice and delusion. Lawless men -may ravage a county in Iowa and it is accepted as an incident—in -the South a drunken row is declared to be the -fixed habit of the community. Regulators may whip vagabonds -in Indiana by platoons, and it scarcely arrests -attention—a chance collision in the South among relatively -the same classes is gravely accepted as evidence that one -race is destroying the other. We might as well claim that -the Union was ungrateful to the colored soldiers who followed -its flag, because a Grand Army post in Connecticut -closed its doors to a negro veteran, as for you to give racial -significance to every incident in the South, or to accept -exceptional grounds as the rule of our society. I am not -one of those who becloud American honor with the parade -of the outrages of either section, and belie American character -by declaring them to be significant and representative. -I prefer to maintain that they are neither, and stand -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>for nothing but the passion and the sin of our poor fallen -humanity. If society, like a machine, were no stronger -than its weakest part, I should despair of both sections. -But, knowing that society, sentient and responsible in -every fibre, can mend and repair until the whole has the -strength of the best, I despair of neither. These gentlemen -who come with me here, knit into Georgia’s busy life -as they are, never saw, I dare assert, an outrage committed -on a negro! And if they did, not one of you would be -swifter to prevent or punish. It is through them, and the -men who think with them—making nine-tenths of every -southern community—that these two races have been carried -thus far with less of violence than would have been -possible anywhere else on earth. And in their fairness -and courage and steadfastness—more than in all the laws -that can be passed or all the bayonets that can be mustered—is -the hope of our future.</p> - -<p class='c018'>When will the black cast a free ballot? When ignorance -anywhere is not dominated by the will of the intelligent; -when the laborer anywhere casts a vote unhindered -by his boss; when the vote of the poor anywhere is not -influenced by the power of the rich; when the strong and -the steadfast do not everywhere control the suffrage of the -weak and shiftless—then and not till then will the ballot of -the negro be free. The white people of the South are -banded, Mr. President, not in prejudice against the -blacks—not in sectional estrangement, not in the hope of -political dominion—but in a deep and abiding necessity. -Here is this vast ignorant and purchasable vote—clannish, -credulous, impulsive and passionate—tempting every art -of the demagogue, but insensible to the appeal of the -statesman. Wrongly started, in that it was led into alienation -from its neighbor and taught to rely on the protection -of an outside force, it cannot be merged and lost in the -two great parties through logical currents, for it lacks -political conviction and even that information on which -conviction must be based. It must remain a faction—strong -enough in every community to control on the slightest -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>division of the whites. Under that division it becomes -the prey of the cunning and unscrupulous of both parties. -Its credulity is imposed on, its patience inflamed, its -cupidity tempted, its impulses misdirected—and even its -superstition made to play its part in a campaign in which -every interest of society is jeopardized and every approach -to the ballot-box debauched. It is against such campaigns -as this—the folly and the bitterness and the danger of -which every southern community has drunk deeply—that -the white people of the South are banded together. Just -as you in Massachusetts would be banded if 300,000 black -men, not one in a hundred able to read his ballot—banded -in race instinct, holding against you the memory of a -century of slavery, taught by your late conquerors to distrust -and oppose you, had already travestied legislation -from your statehouse, and in every species of folly or -villainy had wasted your substance and exhausted your -credit.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But admitting the right of the whites to unite against -this tremendous menace, we are challenged with the smallness -of our vote. This has long been flippantly charged to -be evidence, and has now been solemnly and officially -declared to be proof of political turpitude and baseness on -our part. Let us see. Virginia—a State now under fierce -assault for this alleged crime—cast in 1888 75 per cent. of -her vote. Massachusetts, the State in which I speak, 60 -per cent. of her vote. Was it suppression in Virginia and -natural causes in Massachusetts? Last month Virginia -cast 69 per cent. of her vote, and Massachusetts, fighting in -every district, cast only 49 per cent. of hers. If Virginia -is condemned because 31 per cent. of her vote was silent, -how shall this State escape in which 51 per cent. was -dumb? Let us enlarge this comparison. The sixteen -southern States in 1888 cast 67 per cent. of their total vote—the -six New England States but 63 per cent. of theirs. By -what fair rule shall the stigma be put upon one section, -while the other escapes? A congressional election in New -York last week, with the polling-place in touch of every -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>voter, brought out only 6000 votes of 28,000—and the lack -of opposition is assigned as the natural cause. In a district -in my State, in which an opposition speech has not -been heard in ten years, and the polling-places are miles -apart—under the unfair reasoning of which my section has -been a constant victim—the small vote is charged to be -proof of forcible suppression. In Virginia an average -majority of 10,000, under hopeless division of the minority, -was raised to 42,000; in Iowa, in the same election, a -majority of 32,000 was wiped out, and an opposition majority -of 8000 was established. The change of 42,000 votes -in Iowa is accepted as political revolution—in Virginia an -increase of 30,000 on a safe majority is declared to be proof -of political fraud. I charge these facts and figures home, -sir, to the heart and conscience of the American people, -who will not assuredly see one section condemned for what -another section is excused!</p> - -<p class='c018'>If I can drive them through the prejudice of the partisan, -and have them read and pondered at the fireside of -the citizen, I will rest on the judgment there formed and -the verdict there rendered!</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is deplorable, sir, that in both sections a larger percentage -of the vote is not regularly cast, but more inexplicable -that this should be so in New England than in the -South. What invites the negro to the ballot-box? He -knows that, of all men, it has promised him most and -yielded him least. His first appeal to suffrage was the -promise of “forty acres and a mule.” His second, the -threat that Democratic success meant his re-inslavement. -Both have proved false in his experience. He looked for -a home, and he got the freedman’s bank. He fought under -the promise of the loaf, and in victory was denied the -crumbs. Discouraged and deceived, he has realized at last -that his best friends are his neighbors, with whom his lot is -cast, and whose prosperity is bound up in his—and that he -has gained nothing in politics to compensate the loss of -their confidence and sympathy that is at last his best and his -enduring hope. And so, without leaders or organization—and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>lacking the resolute heroism of my party friends in -Vermont that makes their hopeless march over the hills a -high and inspiring pilgrimage—he shrewdly measures the -occasional agitator, balances his little account with politics, -touches up his mule and jogs down the furrow, letting the -mad world jog as it will!</p> - -<p class='c018'>The negro vote can never control in the South, and it -would be well if partisans in the North would understand -this. I have seen the white people of a State set about by -black hosts until their fate seemed sealed. But, sir, some -brave man, banding them together, would rise, as Elisha -rose in beleaguered Samaria, and touching their eyes with -faith, bid them look abroad to see the very air “filled with -the chariots of Israel and the horsemen thereof.” If there -is any human force that cannot be withstood, it is the -power of the banded intelligence and responsibility of a -free community. Against it, numbers and corruption cannot -prevail. It cannot be forbidden in the law or divorced -in force. It is the inalienable right of every free community—and -the just and righteous safeguard against an ignorant -or corrupt suffrage. It is on this, sir, that we rely in -the South. Not the cowardly menace of mask or shotgun; -but the peaceful majesty of intelligence and responsibility, -massed and unified for the protection of its homes and the -preservation of its liberty. That, sir, is our reliance and -our hope, and against it all the powers of the earth shall -not prevail. It was just as certain that Virginia would -come back to the unchallenged control of her white race—that -before the moral and material power of her people once -more unified, opposition would crumble until its last desperate -leader was left alone vainly striving to rally his disordered -hosts—as that night should fade in the kindling -glory of the sun. You may pass force bills, but they -will not avail. You may surrender your own liberties to -Federal election law, you may submit, in fear of a necessity -that does not exist, that the very form of this government -may be changed—this old State that holds in its charter -the boast that “it is a free and independent commonwealth”—it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>may deliver its election machinery into the -hands of the government it helped to create—but never, -sir, will a single State of this Union, North or South, be -delivered again to the control of an ignorant and inferior -race. We wrested our State government from negro supremacy -when the Federal drumbeat rolled closer to the -ballot-box and Federal bayonets hedged it deeper about -than will ever again be permitted in this free government. -But, sir, though the cannon of this Republic thundered in -every voting district of the South, we still should find in -the mercy of God the means and the courage to prevent its -re-establishment!</p> - -<p class='c018'>I regret, sir, that my section, hindered with this problem, -stands in seeming estrangement to the North. If, sir, -any man will point out to me a path down which the white -people of the South divided may walk in peace and honor, -I will take that path though I took it alone—for at the -end, and nowhere else, I fear, is to be found the full prosperity -of my section and the full restoration of this Union. -But, sir, if the negro had not been enfranchised, the South -would have been divided and the Republic united. His -enfranchisement—against which I enter no protest—holds -the South united and compact. What solution, then, can -we offer for the problem? Time alone can disclose it to -us. We simply report progress and ask your patience. -If the problem be solved at all—and I firmly believe it will, -though nowhere else has it been—it will be solved by the -people most deeply bound in interest, most deeply pledged -in honor to its solution. I had rather see my people render -back this question lightly solved than to see them -gather all the spoils over which faction has contended since -Catiline conspired and Cæsar fought. Meantime we treat -the negro fairly, measuring to him justice in the fullness -the strong should give to the weak, and leading him in the -steadfast ways of citizenship that he may no longer be the -prey of the unscrupulous and the sport of the thoughtless. -We open to him every pursuit in which he can prosper, and -seek to broaden his training and capacity. We seek to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>hold his confidence and friendship, and to pin him to the -soil with ownership, that he may catch in the fire of his -own hearthstone that sense of responsibility the shiftless -can never know. And we gather him into that alliance of -intelligence and responsibility that, though it now runs -close to racial lines, welcomes the responsible and intelligent -of any race. By this course, confirmed in our judgment -and justified in the progress already made, we hope -to progress slowly but surely to the end.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The love we feel for that race you cannot measure nor -comprehend. As I attest it here, the spirit of my old black -mammy from her home up there looks down to bless, and -through the tumult of this night steals the sweet music of -her croonings as thirty years ago she held me in her black -arms and led me smiling into sleep. This scene vanishes -as I speak, and I catch a vision of an old Southern home, -with its lofty pillars, and its white pigeons fluttering down -through the golden air. I see women with strained and -anxious faces, and children alert yet helpless. I see night -come down with its dangers and its apprehensions, and in -a big homely room I feel on my tired head the touch of -loving hands—now worn and wrinkled, but fairer to me yet -than the hands of mortal woman, and stronger yet to lead -me than the hands of mortal man—as they lay a mother’s -blessing there while at her knees—the truest altar I yet -have found—I thank God that she is safe in her sanctuary, -because her slaves, sentinel in the silent cabin or guard at -her chamber door, puts a black man’s loyalty between her -and danger.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I catch another vision. The crisis of battle—a soldier -struck, staggering, fallen. I see a slave, scuffling through -the smoke, winding his black arms about the fallen form, -reckless of the hurtling death—bending his trusty face to -catch the words that tremble on the stricken lips, so wrestling -meantime with agony that he would lay down his life -in his master’s stead. I see him by the weary bedside, -ministering with uncomplaining patience, praying with all -his humble heart that God will lift his master up, until -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>death comes in mercy and in honor to still the soldier’s -agony and seal the soldier’s life. I see him by the open -grave, mute, motionless, uncovered, suffering for the death -of him who in life fought against his freedom. I see him -when the mound is heaped and the great drama of his life -is closed, turn away and with downcast eyes and uncertain -step start out into new and strange fields, faltering, struggling, -but moving on, until his shambling figure is lost in -the light of this better and brighter day. And from the -grave comes a voice saying: “Follow him! Put your -arms about him in his need, even as he puts his about me. -Be his friend as he was mine.” And out into this new -world—strange to me as to him, dazzling, bewildering -both—I follow! And may God forget my people—when -they forget these!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Whatever the future may hold for them—whether they -plod along in the servitude from which they have never -been lifted since the Cyrenian was laid hold upon by -the Roman soldiers and made to bear the cross of the fainting -Christ—whether they find homes again in Africa, and -thus hasten the prophecy of the psalmist who said: “And -suddenly Ethiopia shall hold out her hands unto God”—whether, -forever dislocated and separated, they remain a -weak people beset by stronger, and exist as the Turk, -who lives in the jealousy rather than in the conscience of -Europe—or whether in this miraculous Republic they -break through the caste of twenty centuries and, belying -universal history, reach the full stature of citizenship, and -in peace maintain it—we shall give them uttermost justice -and abiding friendship. And whatever we do, into whatever -seeming estrangement we may be driven, nothing shall -disturb the love we bear this Republic, or mitigate our consecration -to its service. I stand here, Mr. President, to -profess no new loyalty. When General Lee, whose heart -was the temple of our hopes and whose arm was clothed -with our strength, renewed his allegiance to the government -of Appomattox, he spoke from a heart too great to -be false, and he spoke for every honest man from Maryland -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>to Texas. From that day to this, Hamilcar has -nowhere in the South sworn young Hannibal to hatred and -vengeance—but everywhere to loyalty and to love. Witness -the soldier standing at the base of a Confederate monument -above the graves of his comrades, his empty sleeve -tossing in the April wind, adjuring the young men about -him, to serve as honest and loyal citizens the government -against which their fathers fought. This message, delivered -from that sacred presence, has gone home to the -hearts of my fellows! And, sir, I declare here, if physical -courage be always equal to human aspiration, that -they would die, sir, if need be, to restore this Republic -their fathers fought to dissolve!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Such, Mr. President, is this problem as we see it; such -is the temper in which we approach it: such the progress -made. What do we ask of you? First, patience; out of -this alone can come perfect work. Second, confidence; in -this alone can you judge fairly. Third, sympathy; in this -you can help us best. Fourth, give us your sons as hostages. -When you plant your capital in millions, send your -sons that they may help know how true are our hearts and -may help to swell the Anglo-Saxon current until it can -carry without danger this black infusion. Fifth, loyalty -to the Republic—for there is sectionalism in loyalty as in -estrangement. This hour little needs the loyalty that is -loyal to one section and yet holds the other in enduring -suspicion and estrangement. Give us the broad and perfect -loyalty that loves and trusts Georgia alike with Massachusetts—that -knows no south, no north, no east, no west; -but endears with equal and patriotic love every foot of our -soil, every State in our Union.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A mighty duty, sir, and a mighty inspiration impels -every one of us to-night to lose in patriotic consecration -whatever estranges, whatever divides. We, sir, are Americans—and -we fight for human liberty. The uplifting force -of the American idea is under every throne on earth. -France, Brazil—these are our victories. To redeem the -earth from kingcraft and oppression—this is our mission. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>And we shall not fail. God has sown in our soil the seed -of his millennial harvest, and he will not lay the sickle to -the ripening crop until his full and perfect day has come. -Our history, sir, has been a constant and expanding -miracle from Plymouth Rock and Jamestown all the way—aye, -even from the hour when, from the voiceless and trackless -ocean, a new world rose to the sight of the inspired -sailor. As we approach the fourth centennial of that stupendous -day—when the old world will come to marvel and -to learn, amid our gathered treasures—let us resolve to -crown the miracles of our past with the spectacle of a -Republic compact, united, indissoluble in the bonds of -love—loving from the lakes to the Gulf—the wounds of -war healed in every heart as on every hill—serene and -resplendent at the summit of human achievement and -earthly glory—blazing out the path, and making clear the -way up which all the nations of the earth must come in -God’s appointed time!</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span> - <h2 class='c012'>BEFORE THE BAY STATE CLUB.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c030'><span class='sc'>DURING Mr. Grady’s Visit to Boston, in 1889, he -was a Guest of the Bay State Club, before -whom he Delivered the following Speech:</span></p> -<p class='c023'><span class='sc'>Mr. President and Gentlemen</span>: I am confident you -will not expect a speech from me this afternoon, especially -as my voice is in such a condition that I can hardly talk. -I am free to say that it is not a lack of ability to talk, because -I am a talker by inheritance. My father was an -Irishman, my mother was a woman; both talked. I came -by it honestly.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I don’t know how I could take up any discussion here -on any topic apart from the incidents of the past two days. -I saw this morning Plymouth Rock. I was pulled up on -top of it and was told to make a speech.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It reminded me of an old friend of mind, Judge Dooley, -of Georgia, who was a very provoking fellow and was -always getting challenged to duels, and never fighting -them. He always got out of it by being smarter than the -other fellow. One day he went out to fight a man with one -leg, and he insisted on bringing along a bee gum and sticking -one leg into it so that he would have no more flesh exposed -than his antagonist. On the occasion I am thinking -of, however, he went out to fight with a man who had St. -Vitus’s dance, and the fellow stood before him holding the -pistol cocked and primed, his hand shaking. The judge -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>went quietly and got a forked stick and stuck it up in -front of him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“What’s that for?” said the man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I want you to shoot with a rest, so that if you hit me -you will bore only one hole. If you shoot that way you -will fill me full of holes with one shot.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>I was reminded of that and forced to tell my friends -that I could not think of speaking on top of Plymouth Rock -without a rest.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But I said this, and I want to say it here again, for I -never knew how true it was till I had heard myself say -it and had taken the evidence of my voice, as well as my -thoughts—that there is no spot on earth that I had rather -have seen than that. I have a boy who is the pride and -the promise of my life, and God knows I want him to be a -good citizen and a good man, and there is no spot in all -this broad Republic nor in all this world where I had rather -have him stand to learn the lessons of right citizenship, of -individual liberty, of fortitude and heroism and justice, -than the spot on which I stood this morning, reverent and -uncovered.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, I do not intend to make a political speech, -although when Mr. Cleveland expressed some surprise at -seeing me here, I said: “Why, I am at home now; I was -out visiting last night.” I was visiting mighty clever -folks, but still I was visiting. Now I am at home.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is the glory and the promise of Democracy, it seems to -me, that its success means more than partisanry can -mean. I have been told that what I said helped the Democratic -party in this State. Well, the chief joy that I feel -at that, and that you feel, is that, beyond that and above -it, it helped those larger interests of the Republic, and -those essential interests of humanity that for seventy years -the Democratic party has stood for, being the guarantor -and the defender.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, Mr. Cleveland last night made—I trust this will -not get into the papers—one of the best Democratic -speeches I ever heard in my life, and yet all around sat -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>Republicans cheering him to the echo. It was just simply -because he pitched his speech on a high key, and because -he said things that no man, no matter how partisan he -was, could gainsay.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now it seems to me we do not care much for political -success in the South—for a simple question of spoils or of -patronage. We wanted to see one Democratic administration -since General Lee surrendered at Appomattox, just to -prove to the people of this world that the South was not -the wrong-headed and impulsive and passionate section -she was represented to be. I heard last night from Mr. -Cleveland, our great leader, as he sat by me, that he held -to be the miracle of modern history the conservatism and -the temperance and the quiet with which the South -accepted his election, and the few office-seekers in comparison -that came from that section to besiege and importune -him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now it seems to me that the struggle in this country, -the great fight, the roar and din of which we already hear, -is a fight against the consolidation of power, the concentration -of capital, the diminution of local sovereignty and -the dwarfing of the individual citizen. Boston is the home -of the one section of a nationalist party that claims that -the remedy for all our troubles, the way in which Dives, -who sits inside the gate, shall be controlled, and the poor -Lazarus who sits outside shall be lifted up, is for the government -to usurp the functions of the citizen and take -charge of all his affairs. It is the Democratic doctrine that -the citizen is the master and that the best guarantee of this -government is not garnered powers at the capital, but diffused -intelligence and liberty among the people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>My friend, General Collins—who, by the way, captured -my whole State and absolutely conjured the ladies—when -he came down there talked about this to us, and he gave -us a train of thought that we have improved to advantage.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is the pride, I believe, of the South, with her simple -faith and her homogeneous people, that we elevate there -the citizen above the party, and the citizen above everything. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>We teach a man that his best guide at least is his -own conscience, that his sovereignty rests beneath his hat, -that his own right arm and his own stout heart are his best -dependence; that he should rely on his State for nothing -that he can do for himself, and on his government for -nothing that his State can do for him; but that he should -stand upright and self-respecting, dowering his family in -the sweat of his brow, loving to his State, loyal to his -Republic, earnest in his allegiance wherever it rests, but -building at last his altars above his own hearthstone, and -shrining his own liberty in his own heart. That is a sentiment -that I would not have been afraid to avow last night. -And yet it is mighty good democratic doctrine, too.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I went to Washington the other day and I stood on the -Capitol hill, and my heart beat quick as I looked at the -towering marble of my country’s Capitol, and a mist gathered -in my eyes as I thought of its tremendous significance, -of the armies and the treasury, and the judges and the -President, and the Congress and the courts, and all that -was gathered there; and I felt that the sun in all its -course could not look down on a better sight than that -majestic home of a Republic that had taught the world its -best lessons of liberty. And I felt that if honor and wisdom -and justice abided therein, the world would at last -owe that great house in which the ark of the covenant of -my country is lodged its final uplifting and its regeneration.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But a few days afterwards I went to visit a friend in the -country, a modest man, with a quiet country home. It -was just a simple, unpretentious house, set about with -great trees and encircled in meadow and field rich with the -promise of harvest; the fragrance of the pink and the -hollyhock in the front yard was mingled with the aroma -of the orchard and the garden, and the resonant clucking -of poultry and the hum of bees. Inside was quiet, cleanliness, -thrift and comfort.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Outside there stood my friend, the master—a simple, -independent, upright man, with no mortgage on his roof, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>no lien on his growing crops—master of his land and -master of himself. There was his old father, an aged and -trembling man, but happy in the heart and home of his son. -And, as he started to enter his home, the hand of the old -man went down on the young man’s shoulder, laying -there the unspeakable blessing of an honored and honorable -father, and ennobling it with the knighthood of the -fifth commandment. And as we approached the door the -mother came, a happy smile lighting up her face, while -with the rich music of her heart she bade her husband and -her son welcome to their home. Beyond was the housewife, -busy with her domestic affairs, the loving helpmate -of her husband. Down the lane came the children after -the cows, singing sweetly, as like birds they sought the -quiet of their nest.</p> - -<p class='c018'>So the night came down on that house, falling gently -as the wing from an unseen dove. And the old man, while -a startled bird called from the forest and the trees thrilled -with the cricket’s cry, and the stars were falling from the -sky, called the family around him and took the Bible from -the table and called them to their knees. The little baby -hid in the folds of its mother’s dress while he closed the -record of that day by calling down God’s blessing on that -simple home. While I gazed, the vision of the marble -Capitol faded; forgotten were its treasuries and its majesty; -and I said: “Surely here in the homes of the people lodge -at last the strength and the responsibility of this government, -the hope and the promise of this Republic.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>My friends, that is the democracy in the South; that is -the democratic doctrine we preach; a doctrine, sir, that is -writ above our hearthstones. We aim to make our homes, -poor as they are, self-respecting and independent. We try -to make them temples of refinement, in which our daughters -may learn that woman’s best charm and strength is her -gentleness and her grace, and temples of liberty in which -our sons may learn that no power can justify and no treasure -repay for the surrender of the slightest right of a free -individual American citizen.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>Now you do not know how we love you Democrats. -Had we better print that? Yes, we do, of course we do. -If a man does not love his home folks, who should he love? -We know how gallant a fight you have made here, not -as hard and hopeless as our friends in Vermont, but -still an up-hill fight. You have been doing better, much -better.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, gentlemen, I have some mighty good Democrats -here. There is one of the fattest and best in the world -sitting right over there [pointing to his partner, Mr. -Howell].</p> - -<p class='c018'>You want to know about the South. My friends, we -representative men will tell you about it. I just want to -say that we have had a hard time down there.</p> - -<p class='c018'>When my partner came out of the war he didn’t have -any breeches. That is an actual truth. Well, his wife, -one of the best women that ever lived, reared in the lap -of luxury, took her old woolen dress that she had worn -during the war—and it had been a garment of sorrow and -of consecration and of heroism—and cut it up and made a -good pair of breeches. He started with that pair of -breeches and with $5 in gold as his capital, and he scraped -up boards from amid the ashes of his home, and built him -a shanty of which love made a home and which courtesy -made hospitable. And now I believe he has with him three -pairs of breeches and several pairs at home. We have -prospered down there.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I attended a funeral once in Pickens county in my State. -A funeral is not usually a cheerful object to me unless I -could select the subject. I think I could, perhaps, without -going a hundred miles from here, find the material for one -or two cheerful funerals. Still, this funeral was peculiarly -sad. It was a poor “one gallus” fellow, whose breeches -struck him under the armpits and hit him at the other end -about the knee—he didn’t believe in <i>decollete</i> clothes. -They buried him in the midst of a marble quarry: they -cut through solid marble to make his grave; and yet a -little tombstone they put above him was from Vermont. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>They buried him in the heart of a pine forest, and yet the -pine coffin was imported from Cincinnati. They buried -him within touch of an iron mine, and yet the nails in his -coffin and the iron in the shovel that dug his grave were -imported from Pittsburg. They buried him by the side of -the best sheep-grazing country on the earth, and yet the -wool in the coffin bands and the coffin bands themselves -were brought from the North. The South didn’t furnish a -thing on earth for that funeral but the corpse and the hole -in the ground. There they put him away and the clods rattled -down on his coffin, and they buried him in a New York -coat and a Boston pair of shoes and a pair of breeches from -Chicago and a shirt from Cincinnati, leaving him nothing -to carry into the next world with him to remind him of the -country in which he lived, and for which he fought for four -years, but the chill of blood in his veins and the marrow in -his bones.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now we have improved on that. We have got the biggest -marble-cutting establishment on earth within a hundred -yards of that grave. We have got a half-dozen -woolen mills right around it, and iron mines, and iron furnaces, -and iron factories. We are coming to meet you. -We are going to take a noble revenge, as my friend, -Mr. Carnegie, said last night, by invading every inch of -your territory with iron, as you invaded ours twenty-nine -years ago.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A voice—I want to know if the tariff built up these -industries down there?</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady—The tariff? Well, to be perfectly frank -with you, I think it helped some; but you can bet your -bottom dollar that we are Democrats straight through -from the soles of our feet to the top of our heads, -and Mr. Cleveland will not have if he runs again, -which I am inclined to think he ought to do, a stronger -following.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, I want to say one word about the reception we -had here. It has been a constant revelation of hospitality -and kindness and brotherhood from the whole people of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>this city to myself and my friends. It has touched us -beyond measure.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I was struck with one thing last night. Every speaker -that rose expressed his confidence in the future and lasting -glory of this Republic. There may be men, and there are, -who insist on getting up fratricidal strife, and who infamously -fan the embers of war that they may raise them -again into a blaze. But just as certain as there is a God -in the heavens, when those noisy insects of the hour have -perished in the heat that gave them life, and their pestilent -tongues have ceased, the great clock of this Republic will -strike the slow-moving, tranquil hours, and the watchman -from the street will cry, “All is well with the -Republic; all is well.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>We bring to you, from hearts that yearn for your confidence -and for your love, the message of fellowship from our -homes. This message comes from consecrated ground. -The fields in which I played were the battle-fields of this -Republic, hallowed to you with the blood of your soldiers -who died in victory, and doubly sacred to us with the -blood of ours who died undaunted in defeat. All around -my home are set the hills of Kennesaw, all around the -mountains and hills down which the gray flag fluttered to -defeat, and through which American soldiers from either -side charged like demigods; and I do not think I could -bring you a false message from those old hills and those -sacred fields—witnesses twenty years ago in their red desolation -of the deathless valor of American arms and the -quenchless bravery of American hearts, and in their white -peace and tranquillity to-day of the imperishable Union -of the American States and the indestructible brotherhood -of the American people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is likely that I will not again see Bostonians assembled -together. I therefore want to take this occasion to -thank you, and my excellent friends of last night and those -friends who accompanied us this morning for all that you -have done for us since we have been in your city, and to -say that whenever any of you come South just speak your -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>name, and remember that Boston or Massachusetts is the -watchword, and we will meet you at the gates.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>The monarch may forget the crown</div> - <div class='line in2'>That on his head so late hath been;</div> - <div class='line'>The bridegroom may forget the bride</div> - <div class='line in2'>Was made his own but yester e’en;</div> - <div class='line'>The mother may forget the babe</div> - <div class='line in2'>That smiled so sweetly on her knee;</div> - <div class='line'>But forget thee will I ne’er, Glencairn,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And all that thou hast done for me.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div id='p208' class='figcenter id003'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span> -<img src='images/p208.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>HENRY W. GRADY’S ATLANTA HOME.</p> -</div> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span><span class='c029'>WRITINGS.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span> - <h2 class='c012'>“SMALL JANE.”</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c007'> - <div><span class='sc'>The Story of a Little Heroine.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>SINCE my experience with the case of “Sallie,” I feel a -hesitation in presenting a new heroine to the attention -of the public.</p> - -<p class='c018'>You see, I do not mind the real sorrow that I experienced -when my sincere efforts to improve the condition of -this child came to naught. But I was staggered and -sickened by the fact that most of my friends were rejoiced -at her downfall.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I do not remember anything that gave more genuine joy -to the town than the relapse of this wretched girl into the -slums from which she had been lifted. It was the occasion -of general hilarity—this falling back of an immortal soul -into Death—this terrible spectacle of a child staggering -blindly from sunlight into shame. I was poked in the ribs -facetiously. A perfect shower of chuckles fell on my -ear. It was the joke of the season—this triumph of the -Devil over the body of a girl. One mad young wag, who, -with a keen nose for a joke, followed her into her haunts -of crime, came back, his honest face convulsed with laughter, -and bearing on his lips a statement from her, to the -literal effect that “I was a d—d fool.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>I was staggered, I say, at the enjoyment created by the -downfall of this girl. For myself, I can hardly imagine a -more pitiful sight than her childish figure, as with face -averted and hands raised, blinded by the white light of virtue -and bewildered by her new condition, she slipped back -in despair to her old shame. I may be a “d—d fool,” -but I cannot find the heart to laugh at that.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>I don’t know how it is, but I have a mania for looking -into cases of this sort. It is not philanthropy with me; -it is a disease.</p> - -<p class='c018'>At the editorial desk, I sit opposite a young man of a -high order of mind.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He makes it a point to compass the problems of -nations. I dodge them. He has settled, to his own agreement, -every European problem of the past decade. Those -problems have settled me. He soars—I plod. Once in a -while, when he yearns for a listener, he reaches down for -my scalp, and lifts me up to his altitude, where I shiver -and blink, until his talented fingers relax, and I drop -home. It delights him to adjust his powerful mind to the -contemplation of contending armies,—I swash around with -the swarm that hangs about me.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His hero is Bismarck, that phlegmatic miracle that has -yoked impulse to an ox, and having made a chess-board of -Europe, plays a quiet game with the Pope. My hero is a -blear-eyed sot, that having for four years waged a gigantic -battle with drink, and alternated between watery Reform -and positive Tremens, is now playing a vague and losing -game with Spontaneous Combustion. My friend discusses -Bismarck’s projects with a vastness of mind that actually -makes his discourse dim, and I slip off to try my hero’s -temper, and see whether I shall have him wind his intoxicated -arms about my neck and envelop me in an atmosphere -of whisky and reform, or fall recumbent in the gutter, -his weak but honest face upturned to the sky, and -his moist, white hand working vaguely upward from his -placid breast, in token of abject surrender.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Bismarck is a bigger man than Bob.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But I can’t help thinking that Bob is engaged in the -most thrilling and desperate conflict. Anyhow, I had -rather see his watery eyes grow clear and his paroxysmal -arms grow steadfast, than to see Bismarck wipe out every -potentate in Europe. It’s a grave thing to watch the conflicts -of kings, and see nations embattled rushing against -each other. But there are greater and deeper conflicts -<span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>waged in our midst every day, when the legions of Despair -swarm against stout hearts, and Hunger and Suffering storm -the citadel of human lives!</p> - -<p class='c018'>But I started to tell you of my new heroine.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Her name is Jane.</p> - -<p class='c018'>She presented herself one morning about three months -ago. A trim, slender figure, the growth of nine years. It -was such a small area of poverty that I felt capable of -attending to it myself. But I remembered that small -beggars usually represent productive but prostrated parents -and a brood of children. The smaller the beggar the larger -the family. I therefore summoned the good little woman -who guides my household affairs.</p> - -<p class='c018'>She claims to be an expert in beggars. She has certain -tests that she applies to all comers. Her fundamental rule -is that all applicants are entitled to cold bread on first call. -After this she either grades them up to cake and preserves, -or holds them to scraps. I remember that she kept Col. -Nash on dry biscuit for thirteen months, while other applicants -have gone up to pie in three visits. I never felt any -hesitation in taking her judgment after that, for of all -wheedling mendicants Col. Nash, the alleged scissors-grinder, -takes the lead.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But Jane was not a beggar. She carried on her arm a -basket. It was filled with some useless articles that she -wanted to sell. Would the lady look at them? Oh! of -course! They were bits of splints embroidered with gay -worsted. What were they for? Why, she didn’t know. -She just thought somebody would buy them, and she -needed some money so badly.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Who is your mother?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I haven’t any. She is dead. I have a father, though.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“What does he do?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“He’s sick most of the time. He works when he is -well.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“What’s his name?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Robert ——!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>(Saints! My “Bob!” Sick indeed! The weak rascal!)</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>Jane was asked in, and I began to investigate. I -learned that this child was literally alone in the world. -She had a sister, a puny two-year-old, and a drunken -father—my flabby friend. They lived in a rickety hovel, -out of which the last chair had been sold to pay rent. The -mother, a year an invalid, had been accustomed to work -little trifles in splints and worsted. She dying, the child -picked up the splints, and worked grotesque baby fancies -in wood and worsted. She had no time for weeping. Her -hunger dried her eyes. The cooing baby by her side, -crying for bread, made her forget the dead mother. So she -fashioned the splints together, and with a brave heart went -out to sell them.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Bob reformed at the bedside of his dying wife. Possibly -at that moment the angels that had come to guide the -woman home swept away the mist of the man’s debauch, -and gave him a glimpse of the pure life that lay behind. -Certain it is that his moist, uncertain hands crept vaguely -up the cover till they caught the wasted cheeks of his wife, -and his shaggy head bent down till his quivering lips found -hers. And the poor wife, yielding once more to the love -that had outlived shame and desertion, turned her eyes -from her children and fixed them on her husband. Ah! -how this earthly hope and this earthly love chased even the -serenity of Heaven from her face, and lighted it with tender -rapture! How quickly this drunkard supplanted God in -the dying woman’s soul? “Oh, Bob! my darling!” she -gasped, and raising her face toward him with a masterful -yearning, she died.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Mother didn’t seem to know we were there after father -came,” Jane told me. And I wondered if the child had not -been hurt, that all her months of patient love and watching -had been forgotten in a tempest of love for a vagabond -husband that had wrought nothing but disaster and death.</p> - -<p class='c018'>After the funeral, through which he went in a dazed -sort of stupor, Bob got drunk, I don’t know why or how. -He seemed tenderer since then than before. I noticed that -he reformed oftener and got over it quicker. A piece of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>crape that Jane had fixed about his hat seemed to possess -sacred properties to him. When he touched it and swore -abstinence, he generally held out two or three days. One -night, as he lay in the gutter, a cow, full of respect for his -person, and yet unable to utterly control her hunger, -chewed his hat. Since then he seemed to have lost his -moorings, and drifted about on a currentless drunk.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was always kind to Jane and the little biddie. In -his maudlin way he would caress them, and cry over them, -and reform with them, and promise to work for them. -Even when he ate their last crust of bread, he accompanied -the action with a sort of fumbling pomposity that -robbed it of its horror. He never did it without promising -to go out at once and bring back a sack of flour. Once he -went so high as to promise four sacks. So that the child, -in love like her mother with the old rascal, and like her -mother fresh always in faith, was rather rejoiced than -otherwise when he ate the bread. Did he bring the flour?</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Why, how could he? They had to bring him home. -So of course I did not blame him. Poor father!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>I must do Bob the justice to say that he never earned a -cent in all these days that he did not intend giving to -Jane. Of course he never did it, but I desire him to have -the credit of his intention. If the Lord held the best of -us strictly to performance and ruled out intention, we -wouldn’t be much better in his sight than Bob is in ours.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One day I was sitting behind a window looking at -Jane, who stood in the kitchen door. Her oldish-looking, -chipper little face was turned straight to me. It was a -pretty face. The brown eyes were softened with suffering, -and fear and anxiety had driven all color from her -thin cheeks. I noticed that her mouth was never still. -Though she was alone and silent, her lips quivered and -trembled all the time. At times they would break into a -dumb sob. Then she would draw them firmly together. -Again they would twitch convulsively in the terrible semblance -of a smile. Then in that pretty, feminine way she -would pucker them together.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>Long suffering had racked the child until she was all -awry, and her nerves were plunging through her tender -frame like devils.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Jane, were you ever hungry?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Sir!” and she started painfully, while her starved -heart managed to send a thin coating of scarlet into her -cheeks. She was a proud little body, and never talked of -her sorrows.</p> - -<p class='c018'>May the Lord forgive me for repeating the question!</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Sometimes, sir, when I couldn’t sell anything. Last -Saturday we had only some bread for dinner. We never -had anything else until Sunday night. I wouldn’t have -minded it then, but Mary cried so for bread that I went -out, and a lady that I knew gave me some things.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, think of that. From a crust at Saturday noon, -on nothing till Sunday night. Of all the abundant marketing -of Saturday evening; of all the luxuries of Sunday -breakfast and dinner, not a crumb for this poor child. -While we were dressing our children for their trip to Sunday-school, -or their romp over the hills, this poor child, -gnawed by hunger, deserted by her drunken father, holding -a starving baby, sat crouched in a hovel, given up to -despair and hopelessness. And that, too, within the sound -of the bells that made the church-steeples thrill with -music, and called God’s people to church!</p> - -<p class='c018'>A friend who had heard Jane’s story had given me -three dollars for her. I gave it to her, and told her that -as her rent was paid, she could with this lay in some provisions. -She was crying then, but she dried her tears and -hurried off.</p> - -<hr class='c032' /> - -<p class='c018'>“Will you please come here and look?” called a lady -whose call I always obey, about an hour afterward.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I went, and there stood Jane, flushed and happy.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I declare I am astonished at this child!” said the -lady.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And therewith she displayed Jane’s purchases. A -<span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>little meal and meat had been sent home. The rest she -had with her. First, there was a goblet of strained honey; -then a bundle of candy “for baby,” a package of tea -“for father,” and a chip straw hat, with three gayly -colored ribbons, “for herself.” And that’s where the -money had gone!</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I am just put out with her,” said the arbitress of -my affairs, after Jane had gathered up her treasures -and departed. “To waste her money like that! I can -imagine how the poor, half-starved child couldn’t help -buying the honey-goblet; I should die myself if I didn’t -have something sweet; but how she came to buy that hat -and ribbons I can’t see!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Ah, blue-eyed woman! There’s a yearning in the -feminine soul stronger than hunger. There’s a passion -there that starvation cannot conquer. The hat and ribbons -were bought in response to that craving. The hat, -I’ll bet thee, was bought before the honey,—aye, before -the meal or meat. “Can’t understand it?” Then, my -spouse, I’ll explain: Jane is a woman!</p> - -<p class='c018'>I must confess that I was pleased at the misdirection of -Jane’s funds. Have you ever had a child deep in a long-continued -stupor from fever? How delighted you were -then when, tempted by some trifle, he gave signs of eagerness! -So I was rejoiced to see that the long years of suffering -had not crushed hope and emotion out of this girl’s -life.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The tea and the candy showed that her affections, -working up to the father and drawn to the baby, were all -right. The honey gave evidence that the fresh impulses -of childhood had not been nipped and chilled. The hat -and ribbons—best and most hopeful purchase of all—proved -that the womanly vanity and love of prettiness -still fluttered in her young soul. Nothing is so charming -and so feminine in woman as the passion for dress. -Laugh at it as we may, I think that men will agree that -there is nothing so pathetic as a young woman out of -whom all hope of fine appearance has been pressed. A -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>gay ribbon is the sign in which woman conquers. I wager -that Eve made a neat, many-colored thing of fig-leaves.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But to return to Jane.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I know that this desultory sketch should be closed -with something unusual. Jane should die or get married. -But she’s too young for either. And so her life is running -on ever. She plods the streets as she used to do. She has -quit selling the flaming scraps she used to sell, and now -knits her young but resolute brow over crochet work, -which she sells at marvelous prices. Her path is flecked -with more sunshine than ever before, and at Sunday-school -she is as smart a little woman as can be seen. If the -shadow of a staggering figure, that falls so often across -her course, could be lifted, she would have little else to -grieve over. Not that she complains of this—not a bit of -it. “Poor father is sick so much. How can he be -expected to work?” And so she goes on, with her -woman’s nature clinging to him closer than ever; even as -the ivy clings to the old ruin. Hiding his shame from the -world, wrapping him in the plenitude of her faith, and -binding up his shattered resolves with her heart-strings.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And as for Bob:</p> - -<p class='c018'>I am strongly tempted to tell a lie, and say that he is -either sober or dead. But he is neither. He is the same -shiftless, irresponsible fellow that I have known for three -years. His face is heavier, his eyes are smaller, his nose -redder, his flesh more moist than ever. But in the depth -of his debauch there seems to have been winged some idea -of the excellence of Jane’s life, and the fineness of her -martyrdom. He catches me anywhere he sees me, and, -falling on my shirt-front, weeps copious tears of praise -and pop-skull, while talking of her. He swears by her.</p> - -<p class='c018'>By the way, I must do him justice. Yesterday he -came to me very much affected. He was white-lipped, -and trembling, and hungry. He had spent the night in -the gutter, and the policeman who was scattering the disinfecting -lime, either careless or wise beyond his kind, had -powdered him all over. He seemed to be terribly in earnest. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>He raised his trembling hand to his hat and touched -the place where the crape used to be, and swore that he -intended to reform, for good and all. “S’elp me Jane!” -he said.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I have not seen him since. I hope that the iron has at -last entered his soul and will hold him steadfast. Ha! -that sounds like him stumbling up the steps now. Hey! -he has rolled back to the bottom! Here he comes again. -That must be him. “Of course!”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span> - <h2 class='c012'>DOBBS!</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c007'> - <div><span class='sc'>A Thumbnail Sketch of a Martyr.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c020'>I AM proud of my acquaintance with Dobbs.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was a hero, whose deeds were not spread upon any -of the books of men, but whose martyrdom I am sure illustrates -a glowing page in God’s great life book.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I met him late one night.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The paper, with its burden of news and gossip, had just -been put to press, and I strolled out of the hot, clanking -room to catch a sight of the cool morning stars, and a -whiff of the dew-laden breezes of the dawn.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Silhouetted against the intercepted stars, I saw a tall -and striking form, standing like a statue on the corner.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As I came out of the door the figure approached.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Is this the <i>Herald</i> office, sir?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Yes, sir. Can I serve you in any way?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Well—” hesitating for an instant, and then speaking -boldly and sharply, “I wanted to know if you could not -trust me for a few papers?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I suppose so; walk in to the light.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>I shall never forget the impression Dobbs made on me -that night, as we two walked in from the starlight to the -glare of the gas-burners.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>A BLAZE OF HONESTY.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>As I have said before, he had a tall and striking figure. -His face was ugly. He was ungraceful, ragged, and uncouth. -Yet there was a splendid glow of honesty that -shone from every feature, and challenged your admiration. -It was not that cheap honesty that suffuses the face of your -average honest man; but a vivid burst of light that, fed by -principle, sent its glow from the heart. It was not the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>passive honesty that is the portion of men who have no -need to steal, but the triumphant honesty that has grappled -with poverty, with disease, with despair, and conquered -the whole devil’s brood of temptation; the honesty -that has been sorely tried, the honesty of martyrdom; the -honesty of heroism. He was the honestest man I ever -knew.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>THE PATHOS OF INCONGRUITY.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>There was one feature of his dress that was pathetic in -its uniqueness. He wore a superb swallow-tail dress-coat; -a gorgeous coat, which was doubtless christened at some -happy wedding (his father’s, I suppose); had walked side -by side with dainty laces; been swept through stately quadrilles, -pressed upon velvet, and to-night came to me upon -a shirtless back, and asked “trust” for a half-dozen newspapers.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It had that seedy, threadbare look which makes broadcloth, -after its first season, the most melancholy dress that -sombre ingenuity ever invented. It was scrupulously -brushed and buttoned close up to the chin, whether to hide -the lack of a shirt, I never in the course of six months’ -intimate acquaintance had the audacity to inquire. In the -sleeve, on which rosy wrists had, in days gone by, laid in -loving confidence, a shriveled arm hung loosely, and from -its outlet three decrepit fingers driveled. His hat was old, -and fell around his ears.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His breeches, of a whitish material, which had the peculiarity -of leaving the office perfectly dirty one evening and -coming back pure and clean the next morning. What -amount of midnight scrubbing this required from my hero -Dobbs, I will not attempt to tell. Neither will I guess how -he became possessed of that wonderful coat. Whether in -the direst days of the poverty which had caught him, his -old mother, pitying her boy’s rags, had fished it up from -the bottom of a trunk where, with mayhaps an orange-wreath -or a bit of white veil, it had lain for years, the last -token of a happy bridal night, and, baptizing it with her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>tears, had thrown it around his bare shoulders, I cannot -tell. All I know is, that taken in connection with the rest -of his attire, it was startling in its contrast; and that I -honored the brave dignity with which he buttoned this -magnificent coat against his honest rags, and strode out to -meet the jeers of the world and work out a living.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>FIVE DOLLARS A WEEK.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>I knew Dobbs for six months! Day after day I saw -him come at three o’clock in the morning. I saw his pale -face, and that coat so audacious in its fineness, go to the -press-room, fold his papers, and hurry out into the -weather. One night I stopped him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Dobbs,” says I, “how much do you make a week?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I average five dollars and twenty cents, sir. I have -twenty-seven regular customers. I get the paper at fifteen -cents a week from you, and sell it to them at twenty-five -cents. I make two dollars and seventy cents off of them, -and then I sell about twenty-five extra papers a morning.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“What do you do with your money?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“It takes nearly all of it to support me and mother.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“You don’t mean to tell me that you and your mother -live on five dollars and twenty cents a week?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Yes, sir, we do, and pay five dollars a month rent out -of that. We live pretty well, too,” with a smile, possibly -induced by the vision of some of those luxuries which were -included under the head of “living pretty well.” I was -crushed!</p> - -<p class='c018'><i>Five dollars and twenty-five cents a week!</i> The sum -which I waste per week upon cigars. The paltry amount -which I pay almost any night at the theater. The sum -that I spend any night I may chance to strike a half-dozen -boon companions. This sum, so contemptible to me—wasted -so lightly—I find to be the sum total of the income -of a whole family—the whole support of two human beings.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I left Dobbs, humiliated and crushed. I pulled my hat -over my eyes, strolled down to Mercer’s, and bought a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>twenty-five cent cigar and sat down to think over my duty -in the premises.</p> - -<hr class='c032' /> - -<p class='c018'>... One morning the book-keeper of the <i>Herald</i>, to -whom my admiration for Dobbs was well known (I having -frequently delivered glowing lectures upon his character -from the mailing table to an audience of carriers, clerks, -and printers), approached me and with a devilish smack of -joy in his voice, says:</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I am afraid your man Dobbs is a fraud. Some time ago -he persuaded the clerk to give him credit on papers. He -ran up a bill of about seven dollars, and then melted from -our view. We have not seen or heard of him since—expect -he’s gone to trading with the <i>Constitution</i> now, to bilk -them out of a bill.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>This looked bad—but somehow or other I still had a firm -faith in my hero. God had written “honesty” too plain -in his face for my confidence in him to be shaken. I knew -that if he had sinned or deceived, that it was starvation or -despair that had driven him to it, and I forgave him even -before I knew he was guilty....</p> - -<hr class='c032' /> - -<p class='c018'>About a week after this happened, a bombazine female—one -of those melancholy women that occasionally arise like -some Banquo’s ghost in my pathway, and always, I scarce -know why, put remorse to twitching at my heart-strings—came -into my sanctum and asked for me.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I am the mother,” says she, in a voice which sorrow (or -snuff) had filled with tears and quavers—“of Mr. Dobbs, a -young man who used to buy papers from you. He left -owing you a little, and asked me to see you about it.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Left? Where has he gone?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“To heaven, I hope, sir! He is dead!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Dead?”</p> -<h3 class='c016'>A CONSCIENTIOUS DEBTOR.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>“Yes, sir; my poor boy went last Thursday. He were -all I had on earth, but he suffered so it seemed like a mercy -<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>to let him go. He were worried to the last about a debt -he was owin’ of you. He said you had been clever to him, -and would think hard ef he didn’t pay you. He wanted -you to come and see him so he could explain as how he -were took down with the rheumatizum, but that were no -one to nuss him while I come for you. He had owin’ to -him when he were took, about three dollars, which he have -an account of in this little book. He told me with his last -breath to cullect this money, and not to use a cent tell I had -paid you, and if I didn’t git enough, to turn you over the -book. I hev took in one dollar and tirty cents, and”—with -the air of one who has fought the good fight—“here -it is!” So saying, she ran her hand into a gash in the -bombazine, which looked like a grievous wound, and pulled -out one of those long cloth purses that always reminded -me of the entrails of some unfortunate dead animal, and -counted out the money. This she handed me with the -book.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I ran my eye over the ruggedly kept accounts and found -that each man owed from a dime up to fifty cents.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Why, madam,” says I, “these accounts are not -worth collecting.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“That’s what he was afraid of,” says she, moving toward -a bundle that lay upon the floor; “he told me if you -said so, to give you this, and ask you to sell it if you could, -and make your money. It’s all he had, sir, or me, either, -and he wouldn’t die easy ’til I told him I wud do it! God -knows”—and the tears rolled down her thin and hollow -cheeks—“God knows it were a struggle to promise to give -it up. He wore it, and his father before him. How many -times it has covered ’em both! I had hoped to carry it to -the end with me, and wrap my old body in it when I died. -But it was all we had which was fine, and he wouldn’t rest -’til I told him I wud give it to you. Then he smiled as -pert-like as a child, and kissed me, and says, ‘Now I am -ready to go!’ He were a good boy, sir, as ever lived”—and -she rocked her old body to and fro with her grief. -Need I say that she had offered me the old dress-coat? -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>That sacred garment, blessed with the memory of her son -and his father, and which, rather than give up, she would -willingly pluck either of the withered arms that hung at -her sides from its socket!</p> - -<p class='c018'>I dropped my eyes to the account book again—for what -purpose I am not ashamed that the reader may guess.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In a few moments I spoke:</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Madam, I was mistaken in the value of these accounts; -most of the debtors on this book, I find upon a second look, -are capitalists. The $11 worth of accounts will sell for $12 -anywhere. Your son owed me $7. Leave the book with -me; I will pay myself, and here is $5 balance which I hand -to you. Your son was a good boy, and I feel honored that -I can serve his mother.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>She folded the old coat up and departed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I kept the book.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was a simple record of Dobbs’s life. Here ran his -expense list—a dreary trickle of “bacon” and “meal” -and “rent,” enlivened only once with “sugar”; a saccharine -suggestion that I am unable to account for, as it -surely did not comport with either of the staples that -formed the basis of his life. Probably, on some grand -occasion, he and his mother ate it in the lump.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Here were his accounts, of say fifty cents each, on men -accounted responsible in the world’s eye—accounts for -papers furnished through snow, and sleet, and rain! Some -of them showed signs of having been called for a dozen -times, being frescoed with such notes as “Call Tuesday,” -“Call Wednesday,” “Call Thursday,” etc.</p> - -<p class='c018'>On another page was a pathetic list of delusive liniments -and medicines, with which he had attacked his stubborn -disease. Such as, “King of Pane—kored a man in Maryetti -in 2 days, $1.00”; “Magic Linament—kores in 10 -minnits, $2.00 a bottel”; and so on through the whole catalogue -of snares which the patent office turns out year after -year. Poor fellow! the only relief he got from his racking -pains was when God laid his healing hand on him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I shall keep the book as long as I live.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>In its thumbed and greasy leaves is written the record -of a heroism more lofty and a martyrdom more lustrous -than ever lit the page of book before or since.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I think I shall have it printed in duplicate, and -scattered as leaven throughout the lumpy Sunday-school -libraries of the land.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span> - <h2 class='c012'>A CORNER LOT.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>“HE has been at that for thirteen years.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And the speaker laughed as he watched an old -man gathering up a bucket of stones and broken bricks. -The old man continued his work until his bucket was filled, -and then started back toward Spring Street, stopping on -the way to resurrect a rusted old hoop that was nearly -buried in the gutter.</p> - -<p class='c018'>After walking about three blocks he stopped at the corner -of Spring and James streets, and laying the rusty hoop -carefully upon a great heap of hoops of all kinds and sizes, -he carried the bucket to the back of his lot, a part of -which was considerably lower than the front, and emptied -the bucketful of bricks and stones.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was a very old man—about seventy years old, apparently—in -his shirt-sleeves, and wearing a dingy straw hat. -He was feeble, too, and his steps were slow, but he stopped -only to get a drink of water at the back door, and then -ambled off with the empty bucket.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The little frame structure is half store and half residence. -Just inside the door to the store sat a portly old -lady of sixty or thereabouts. “Who is that old man yonder -with that empty bucket?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Him! Why that’s old man Lewis Powell, and he’s -my husband. I thought everybody knowed him.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Is that all he does?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Fill up the lot, you mean? No, no, he puts hoops on -barrels and kegs, and raises calves and such like, but that’s -his main business. He’s been at it now for nigh on to -fourteen years.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“And how much has he filled in?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Oh, from the sidewalk on back. The lot is fifty by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>eighty, and it used to be just one big hole. Now here on -Spring Street where the front is, the bank went nearly -straight down ’cause the eye of the sewer was right there. -Then the sewer was open and run in a gully the whole -length of the lot, and just about in the middle of the lot. -Here on James Street, at the side there, it wasn’t so steep. -The front of the old house was about half-way down the -bank, and the pillars at the back was over ten feet high. -The house wasn’t more’n twelve feet that way, either, so -you can tell how steep it was. And right at the back door -the sewer passed.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“How deep was it?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Well, right here at the front the city men measured to -the sewer once, and it was a little over twenty feet below -the sidewalk. The back of the lot was a little lower. It -was one big hole fifty by eighty, and almost in the bottom -of it was the old house.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Fourteen years ago.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Fourteen years ago we bought it from Jack Smith on -time. It wasn’t much, but me and Jenny and Joe and -Stella just buckled down and worked like tigers. The -neighbors made fun of us at first, and even the niggers -thought it was funny. Now, I aint telling you this because -I’m stuck up about it, but it just shows what the -Powell family has done, and it shows what any poor folks -can do if they just stick at it.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Didn’t the old man help?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Yes, a little. But we had to live, and then he spent -lots of his time a-fillin’ up, so the brunt of the money part -fell on me and the children. We bought the mudhole, and -he made the mudhole what it is now. Right here where -the mudhole was there is a corner lot, and them what used -to laugh at us would like mighty well to own it now.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And the old lady smiled as though the thought was a -very pleasant one.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Yes, sir,” she continued, “it’s worth a good deal now, -and the first thing you know, when the streets get paved -along here, it will be worth a lot more than it is now.”</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>“And the old man?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“The old man has worked mighty faithful. Little at -a time he has fetched dirt, and rocks, and bricks, and -trash. Then the city put a pipe there for the sewer, and -he begun at the sidewalk on Spring Street and filled back. -The bank kept getting further and further, and after, I -don’t know how long, we built this little house on the -filled-in part. The old man kept fillin’ back till we’ve got -a pretty big back yard; and there’s only a little part left -to fill back there. You see, he never tore up the old -house—the patchwork palace of ’77—just throwed in -around it and in it till he has almost buried it.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Why?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Oh, it’s just a notion of his. He didn’t want to see -the old house tore up, and there it is now, with just the -roof stickin’ out. In a little while it will be one level -yard, fifty by eighty, and a corner lot, too. And by the -time it all gets filled up—well, me and the old man is gettin’ -feeble now, and we won’t last much longer. But, now -that we are all out of debt, and just enough left to do to -keep the old man’s hand in, it does me good to think of -that old mudhole, and how we had to save and slave and -pinch to pay for it. And I think the old man likes to -stand there at the corner and look back how level and -smooth it is, and think how it was done, a handful at a -time, through the rain and the snow and the sunshine. -Fourteen years! It was a big job, but we stuck to it, and -I’m restin’ now, for my work is done. The old man don’t -work like he used to, but he says his job aint finished yet, -and he keeps fillin’ up.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“And when his work is done—”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Then he’ll rest, too.”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span> - <h2 class='c012'>THE ATHEISTIC TIDE SWEEPING OVER THE CONTINENT.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c030'><span class='sc'>THE Threatened Destruction of the Simple Faith -of the Fathers by the Vain Deceits of Modern -Philosophers.—An Attack Christians Must Meet.</span></p> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='c033'>[WRITTEN FOR THE CONSTITUTION, 1881.]</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>New York</span>, January 26.—The dread of the times, as I -see it, is the growing skepticism in the leading circles of -thought and action throughout the country—a swelling -tide of atheism and unbelief that has already swept over -the outposts of religion.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I am not alarmed by the fact that Henry Ward Beecher -shook hands with Ingersoll on a public stand, and has -since swung beyond the limit of orthodoxy, any more than -I am reassured by the fact that Stephen H. Tyng has, by -indorsing the miracles at Lourdes, swung back into the -stronghold of superstition. These are mere personal -expressions that may mean much or little. They may be -classed with the complaint of Dr. Talmage that he found -religion dead in a circuit of 3000 miles of travel last year, -which complaint is balanced by the assertion of Dr. Hall -that the growth of religious sentiment was never so -decisive as at present.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I have noted, in the first place, that the latter-day -writers—novelists, scientists and essayists—are arraying -themselves in great force either openly on the side of -skepticism, or are treating religious sentiment with a -readiness of touch and lack of reverence, that is hardly -less dangerous. I need not run over the lists of scientists, -beginning with Tyndall, Huxley and Stephens, that have -raised the banner of negation—nor recount the number of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>novelists who follow the lead of sweet George Eliot, this -sad and gentle woman, who allied sentiment to positivism -so subtly, and who died with the promise on her lips that -her life would “be gathered like a scroll in the tomb, -unread forever”—who said that she “wanted no future -that broke the ties of the past,” and has gone to meet the -God whose existence she denied. We all know that -within the past twenty years there has been an alarming -increase of atheism among the leading writers in all -branches. But it is the growth of skepticism among the -people that has astonished me.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I am not misled by the superb eloquence of Ingersoll -nor the noisy blasphemy of his imitators. I was with five -journalists, and I found that every one of them were -skeptics, two of them in the most emphatic sense. In a -sleeping-car with eight passengers, average people I take -it, I found that three were confirmed atheists, three were -doubtful about it, and two were old-fashioned Christians. -A young friend of mine, a journalist and lecturer, asked -me a few months ago what I thought of his preparing a -lecture that would outdo Ingersoll—his excuse being that -he found Ingersoll so popular. I asked Henry Watterson -once what effect Ingersoll’s lectures had on the Louisville -public. “No more than a theatrical representation,” was -the quick reply. Watterson was wrong. I have never -seen a man who came away from an Ingersoll lecture as -stout of faith and as strong in heart as he was when he -went there.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I do not know that this spirit of irreligion and unbelief -has made much inroad on the churches. It is as yet -simply eating away the material upon which the churches -must recruit and perpetuate themselves. There is a large -body of men and women, the bulk probably of our population, -that is between the church and its enemies; not -members of the church or open professors of religion, they -have yet had reverence for the religious beliefs, have -respected the rule of conscience, and believed in the existence -of one Supreme Being. These men and women have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>been useful to the cause of religion, in that they held all -the outposts about the camp of the church militant, and -protected it with enwrapping conservatism and sympathy. -It is this class of people that are now yielding to the -assaults of the infidel. Having none of the inspiration of -religion, and possessing neither the enthusiasm of converts -nor the faith of veterans, they are easily bewildered and -overcome. It is a careless and unthinking multitude on -which the atheists are working, and the very inertia of a -mob will carry thousands if the drift of the mass once -floats to the ocean. And the man or woman who rides on -the ebbing tide goes never to return. Religious beliefs -once shattered are hardly mended. The church may -reclaim its sinners, but its skeptics, never.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is not surprising that this period of critical investigation -into all creeds and beliefs has come. It is a logical -epoch, come in its appointed time. It is one of the penalties -of progress. We have stripped all the earth of mystery, -and brought all its phenomena under the square and compass, -so that we might have expected science to doubt the -mystery of life itself, and to plant its theodolite for a -measurement of the Eternal, and pitched its crucible for an -analysis of the soul. It was natural that the Greek should -be led to the worship of his physical gods, for the earth -itself was a mystery that he could not divine—a vastness -and vagueness that he could not comprehend. But we have -fathomed its uttermost secret; felt its most secret pulse, -girdled it with steel, harnessed it and trapped it to our -liking. What was mystery is now demonstrated; what -was vague is now apparent. Science has dispelled illusion -after illusion, struck down error after error, made plain all -that was vague on earth, and reduced every mystery to -demonstration. It is little wonder then that, at last having -reduced all the illusions of matter to an equation, and -anchored every theory to a fixed formula, it should assail -the mystery of life itself, and warn the world that science -would yet furnish the key to the problem of the soul. The -obelisk, plucked from the heart of Egypt, rests upon a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>shore that was as vaguely and infinitely beyond the knowledge -or aspiration of its builders as the shores of a star -that lights the space beyond our vision are to us to-day; -the Chinaman jostles us in the streets, and the centuries -that look through his dreamy eyes have lost all sense of -wonder; ships that were freighted from the heart of Africa -lie in our harbor, and our market-places are vocal with -more tongues than bewildered the builders at Babel; a -letter slips around the earth in ninety days, and the messages -of men flash along the bed of the ocean; we tell the -secrets of the universe as a woman tells her beads, and the -stars whirl serenely through orbits that science has defined; -we even read of the instant when the comet that plunged -in dim illimitable distance, where even the separate stars -are lost in mist and vapor, shall whirl again into the vision -of man, a wanderer that could not shake off the inexorable -supervision of science, even in the chill and measureless -depths of the universe. Fit time is this, then, for science -to make its last and supreme assault—to challenge the last -and supreme mystery—defy the last and supreme force. -And the church may gird itself for the conflict! As the -Pope has said, “It is no longer a rebel that threatens the -church. It is a belligerent!” It is no longer a shading of -creed. It is the upsettal of all creeds that is attempted.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is impossible to conceive the misery and the blindness -that will come in the wake of the spreading atheism. The -ancients witnessed the fall of a hundred creeds, but still -had a hundred left. The vast mystery of life hung above -them, but was lit with religions that were sprinkled as stars -in its depths. From a host of censers was their air made -rich with fragrance, and warmed from a field of altars. No -loss was irreparable. But with us it is different. We have -reached the end. Destroy our one belief and we are left -hopeless, helpless, blind. Our air will be odorless, chill, -colorless. Huxley, the leader of the positivists, himself -confesses—I quote from memory: “Never, in the history -of man, has a calamity so terrific befallen the race, as this -advancing deluge, black with destruction, uprooting our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>most cherished hopes, engulfing our most precious creed, -and burying our highest life in mindless desolation.” And -yet Mr. Huxley urges on this deluge with furious energy. -The aggressiveness of the atheists is inexplicable to me. -Why they should insist on destroying a system that is pure -and ennobling, when they have nothing to replace it with; -why they should shatter a faith that colors life, only to -leave it colorless; why they should rob life of all that -makes life worth living; why they should take away the -consolation that lifts men and women from the despair of -bereavement and desolation, or the light that guides the -feet of struggling humanity, or the hope that robs even -the grave of its terror,—why they should do all this, and -then stand empty-handed and unresponsive before the -yearning and supplicating people they have stripped of all -that is precious, is more than I can understand. The best -atheist, to my mind, that I ever knew, was one who sent -his children to a convent for their education. “I cannot -lift the blight of unbelief from my own mind,” he said, -“but it shall never fall upon the minds of my children if I -can help it. As for me, I would give all I have on earth for -the old faith that I wore so lightly and threw off so carelessly.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The practical effects of the growth of atheism are too -terrible to contemplate. A vessel on an unknown sea that -has lost its rudder and is tossed in a storm—that’s the -picture. It will not do for Mr. Ingersoll to say that a -purely human code of right and wrong can be established -to which the passions of men can be anchored and from -which they can swing with safety. It will not do for him -to cite his own correct life or the correct lives of the skeptical -scientists, or of leading skeptics, as proof that unbelief -does not bring license. These men are held to decency by -a pride of position and by a sense of special responsibility. -It is the masses that atheism will demoralize and debauch. -It is thousands of simple men and women, who, loosed -of the one restraint that is absolute and imperious, -will drift upon the current of their passions, colliding -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>everywhere, and bringing confusion and ruin. The vastly -greatest influence that religion has exercised, as far as the -world goes, has been the conservative pressure that it has -put upon the bulk of the people, who are outside of the -church. With the pressure barely felt and still less -acknowledged, it has preserved the integrity of society, -kept the dangerous instincts within bounds, repressed savagery, -and held the balance. Conscience has dominated -men who never confessed even to themselves its power, and -the dim, religious memories of childhood, breathing imperceptibly -over long wastes of sin and brutality, have dissolved -clouds of passion in the souls of veterans. Atheism -will not work its full effect on this class of men. Even -after they have murdered conscience by withholding the -breath upon which it lives, its ghost will grope through -the chambers of their brain, menacing and terrible, and to -the last,—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in19'>Creeping on a broken wing</div> - <div class='line'>Through cells of madness, haunts of horror and fear!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c024'>It is on the young men and women—the generation bred -in the chill atmosphere of unbelief—that atheism will do -its worst. With no traditions in which to guide their -faith, no altar before which they can do reverence, no ideal -to which their eyes can turn, no standard lofty enough to -satisfy, or steadfast enough to assure—with no uplifting -that is not limited, no aspiration that has wings, and no -enthusiasm that is not absurd—with life but a fever that -kindles in the cradle and dies in the grave,—truly atheism -meets youth with a dread prospect, sullen, storm-swept, -hopeless.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the conflict that is coming, the church is impregnable, -because the church is right; because it is founded -on a rock. The scientists boast that they have evolved -everything logically from the first particles of matter; that -from the crystal rock to sentient man is a steady way, -marked by natural gradations. They even say that, if a -new bulk were thrown off from the sun to-morrow it would -spin into the face of the earth, and the same development -<span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>that has crowned the earth with life would take place in -the new world. And yet Tyndall says: “We have exhausted -physics, and reached its very rim, and yet a mighty -mystery looms up before us.” And this mystery is the -kindling of the atoms of the brain with the vital spark. -There science is baffled, for there is the supreme force that -is veiled eternally from the vision of man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The church is not bound to the technicalities of argument -in this contest. It has the perfect right to say, and -say logically, that something must rest on faith—that there -must be something in the heart or soul before conviction -can be made perfect. Just as we cannot impress with the -ecstasies and transports of earthly love a man who has -never loved, or paint a rainbow to a man who has never -seen. And yet the time has passed when religion can dismiss -the skeptic with a shriek or a sneer. I read one little -book a year ago, gentle, firm, decisive; a book that demonstrated -the necessity and existence of the Supreme Being, -as clearly and as closely as a mathematical proposition was -worked out. But the strength of the church is, after all, -the high-minded consistency of its members; the warmth -and earnestness of its evangelism; the purity and gentleness -of its apostles. If the creeds are put at peace, and -every man who wears the Christian armor will go forth to -plead the cause of the meek and lowly Nazarene, whose -love steals into the heart of man as the balm of flowers into -the pulses of a summer evening—then we shall see the -hosts of doubt and skepticism put to rout.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Of course I have no business to write all this. It is the -province of the preachers to talk of these things, and many -no doubt will resent as impertinent even the suggestion of -a worldling. And yet it seems so sure to me that in the -swift and silent marshaling of the hosts of unbelief and -irreligion there is presaged the supremest test that the -faith of Christians has ever undergone, that I felt impelled -to write. There are men, outside of the active workers of -the church, who have all reverence for its institutions and -love for its leaders; whose hearts are stirred now and then -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>by a faith caught at a mother’s knee, or the memory of -some rapt and happy moment; who want to live, if not in -the fold of the chosen, at least in the shadow of the -Christian sentiment, and among the people dominated by -Christian faith; and who hope to die at last, in the same -trust and peace that moved the dying Shakespeare—wisest, -sweetest mind ever clothed in mortal flesh—when he said: -“I commend my soul into the hands of God, my Creator, -hoping and assuredly believing, through the only merits of -Jesus Christ, my Saviour, to be made partaker of life everlasting.”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span> - <h2 class='c012'>ON THE OCEAN WAVE.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='sc'>An Amateur’s Experience on a Steamship.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> -<p class='c030'>A VERY TALL STORY.—THE FIRST IMPRESSIONS.—A SIDE -VIEW OF SEA-SICKNESS.—THE SIGHT OF THE OCEAN.—LAND -AT LAST AND GLAD OF IT.</p> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='c033'>[SPECIAL CORRESPONDENCE OF THE COURIER.]</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Philadelphia</span>, Feb. 20, 1876.—The ocean is a greatly -exaggerated affair. About four years ago, my friend -Charles I. Graves and myself were sitting on a country -fence, in Floyd County, after the manner of lizards, drinking -in the sunshine, when a wagon containing a small box -wheeled past us. It had hardly got abreast us when my -friend dropped from his comfortable perch as if he were -shot, and rushed to the wagon. Then ensued a remarkable -scene. You have all seen a well-bred country dog meet -a city dog on some green highway. You know with what -hurried circumspection he smells the stranger at all points. -So did my friend approach the little square box on the -wagon. He sniffed at it as if “he would draw his soul -through his nose.” I examined the ugly little box closely. -It was marked</p> - -<p class='c034'><span class='sc'>To Mr. Berckmans</span>,</p> -<p class='c035'><span class='sc'>Mont Alto, Near Rome</span>,</p> -<p class='c036'><span class='sc'>Ga., U.S.A.</span></p> - -<p class='c018'>It was Rhenish wine shipped from Paris.</p> - -<p class='c018'>My friend explained to me, after his rhapsody was over, -that the box having been brought across the ocean in the -hold of a steamer, retained a subtle scent of bilge-water, -that brought the sea with all its dangerous fascination back -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>to him—he having served all his young life before the mast. -He was, at this writing, a plain, staid farmer, content -among his cattle and clover. And yet that sharp, briny, -saline flavor, thrown on the bosom of the still country -breeze, put a restless devil in his breast. It was as if a -born gallant, exiled for a decade to the heart of some desert, -should, near the expiration of his sentence, stumble -upon a cambric handkerchief, redolent with the perfume -of a lady’s boudoir. In less than two years after the sight -or rather the smell of that box my friend had sold his plantation, -convinced his wife, and gone to the ocean again. -Had Dr. Berckmans been content to drink native wine, -Mr. Graves would yet be alternating cotton with clover, in -the peaceful valley of the Etowah.</p> - -<p class='c018'>After this strong proof of the fascination that the sea -has for its votaries, I achieved a strong desire to try it for -myself. It renewed in my mature days the wild ambition -that put turmoil into my schoolboy life, after I had read -“Lafitte, or the Pirate of the Gulf.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>I have longed for many a day to run a “gore” into -each leg of my pantaloons, roll back my collar, tousle my -hair, fold my cloak about my shoulders, and stand before -the mast in a stiff breeze, and there read Byron with one -eye, and with the other watch the effect of the tableau on -the female passengers.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I never had a chance to gratify the desire until lately. I -never saw the ocean until the trip that results in this letter; -I shall never forget the impression it made on me.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I had imagined that it would be a moment of ecstasy. -I had believed that my soul, in the glad recognition of -something as infinite, as illimitable as itself, would laugh -with joy, and leap to my lips, and burn in my fingers, and -tingle in my veins. I wisely reserved the first sight until -we had steamed out beyond the land, and then with the -air of one who unchains himself, I raised my head and -looked out to the future. There, as far as the eye could -reach, aye, and way beyond, as if mocking the finiteness of -sight, stretched the blue waters. Ah! how my fine-spun -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>fancies crumbled and came tumbling back on me in dire -confusion! My soul literally shriveled! My very imagination -was cowed and driven to its corner, and I sat there -dumb and trembling!</p> - -<p class='c018'>No tenant of a cradle was ever more simple or more trusting -than I became at that moment. I literally rejoiced in -the abrogation of all the pride and manliness that I had -boasted of two hours before. I flung away my self-dependence, -and my soul ran abashed into the hollow of His hand, -even as a frightened child runs to its father’s arms. As I -looked shuddering upon the vast and restless waste of -waters in front of me, I felt as if some person had taken -me to the confines of that time which human calculation -can compass, and holding me on the chill edge of that gulf -called the Eternal, had asked me to translate its meaning, -and pronounce its uttermost boundary.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I suppose the truth of the matter is that I was about -scared to death; certain it is that I crouched there for -hours, trembling, and yet gazing out beyond me upon the -lapping waters, from where they parted before our ship to -where they curled up against the half-consenting sky! At -last I arose, shook myself, as if throwing off some nightmare, -and sought the crowd again.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I can never forget how dissonant and inopportune the -flippant conversation of the voyagers seemed to me to be -at that time. It was as if some revelers should jest and -shout in a great church. With the awful abyss in front, -and these prattlers to the rear, one had the two extremes. -There was God in the deep and awful stillness ahead, and -the world behind in the chatter and gayety that rang out -“like a man’s cracked laughter heard way down in hell.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The first man’s voice that I heard, as I turned away from -the solemn hush of the Eternal that yawned before us, was -that of a young fellow who remarked to his chum rhapsodically -(evidently alluding to some female acquaintance), -“Why, she had a leg on her like a government mule.” -These words bit into my memory as if they were cut -there by white-hot pincers.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span> - <h3 class='c016'>HOW SEA-SICKNESS WORKS.</h3> -</div> - -<p class='c024'>I believe I have said somewhere in this letter that -my soul didn’t leap to my lips when I went out to meet -the ocean. I regret to say that my breakfast did. I do -not know whether any writer has addressed himself to -sea-sickness. I am certain that no writer of sacred or profane -literature can do it sufficient injustice. Walt Whitman -might do it. He’s better on the yawp than any poet -I know. Never tell me again that hell is a lake of fire and -brimstone. Eternal punishment means riding on a rough -sea, in a steamer that don’t roll well, without a copper-bottomed -stomach, and a self-acting stop-valve in the -throat. To have been jostled about in a lake of fire would -have been real cheerful business compared to the unutterable -anguish that I suffered for three days. I do believe -that if I had tied a cannon-ball to a crumb of bread and -swallowed them both, the crumb would have come prancing -to the front again, and brought the cannon-ball with it. It -at last became a sort of dismal joke to send anything down. -But this was not what made it so hard to bear. It was the -abject degradation that it brought upon me. The absolute -prostration of every mental, moral and physical activity, -of every emotion, impulse and ambition; the reduction of -a system that boasted of some nervous power and of excessive -tone, to the condition of a wet dish-clout,—these were -the things that made sea-sickness a misery beyond the -power of words. For three days I lay like an old volcano, -still, desolate and haggard; but with an exceedingly active -crater. I was brought to that condition which Chesterfield -says is the finest pitch to which a gentleman can be brought, -that sublime pitch of indifference that enables him to hear -of the loss of an estate, or a poodle dog, with the same feeling. -Nothing disturbs the man who is sea-sick. He blinks -in the face of disaster, and yawps at death itself. He actually -longs for sensation. To stick him with a pin, or drop -ice down his back, would be a mercy. He spraddles madly -over the ship, flabbing himself like a mollusk over everything -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>he stumbles on, and knows not night or morning. -As far as I was concerned, I was seized with a yawning -that came very near proving fatal. I was taken with a -longing to turn myself wrong-side outwards, and hang myself -on the taffrail. Several times I was on the point of -doing it; but I struggled against it and saved myself.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>THE SIGHTS OF THE SEA.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>The “sights” of the sea are not what they are cracked -up to be. Some writer, Lowell, I believe, who was seduced -into going seaward, had a sovereign contempt for everything -connected with the sea. With a charming abandon, -he says, “A whale looks like a brown paper parcel—the -white stripes down his back resembling the pack-thread.” -It is not hard to bring everything down to this standard.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The very motion of the waves, the cause of rhymes -unnumbered, becomes terribly monotonous after the first -day or two. The rise and relapse of the tinted water -glistening in the sun, and blooming lilies on the wave-crest, -is a pretty enough sight at first; but before long one longs -to shiver the surface of the deep, and calm its eternal restlessness. -The waves, wriggling up like a woman’s regrets -from nowhere, come dragging themselves over the weary -waste, and, plashing back upon each other, spring off on -another uneasy remonstrance, until the brain of the looker-on -is actually addled. I would have given a great deal to -have had the power to have settled the upheaving waters -for one hour, just as a schoolboy has the power, and the -inclination, too, to break the inexorable calm of a mill-pond -by splashing it with rocks. Nothing tires us like sameness; -sameness, inactivity, is intolerable.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We saw some flying-fish. And we saw, what I valued -much more, on board with us a man who knew a man whose -cousin had seen the great sea-serpent. I have a great -respect for a man who knows somebody that has seen the -sea-serpent. He is a link between us and the supernatural -in the ocean. He is a relic, stranded by the shore of science, -of that world of wonders that began with the syrens, was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>modernized with the mermaids, and that ends in the devil-fish -and sea-serpent. While he lives I want to be near him. -When he dies I want his tooth set on my mantel-piece; it -will be a sort of guarantee, under which I can read the -weird stories of the old, unexplored ocean, that made boyhood -joyous. Give me the sea-serpent as a fact, and I will -swear to the mermaids, bet on the phantom ship, and pin -my faith to the syrens.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>THE LOVERS AND THE PILOT.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>The intercourse between the passengers was not pleasant. -We got tired of each other. The fact that none of us could -get on or off, gave us a sort of feeling that we were prisoners; -or, when locked up at night in our berths, that we -were animals traveling in the same menagerie; brought -together by chance, and held together through necessity.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There was one couple on board that won my attention. -It was a man, full-grown, handsome and accomplished, but -with the deep furrows in his brow that always come after -a man has wrestled with the world; and the girl not more -than fifteen years of age. The girl had not worn off the -subtle bloom of childhood that gave her grace and glow, as -the dew-chrism of early dawn graces the lily. She was not -beautiful, after the approved models, but there was an -elastic freshness, a bright charm that would have put -beauty to the blush. She was brimming with the splendid -and tender divinity that fills the odorous buds just before -they burst into life’s beauty. She was full of spring. She -carried its balms about with her, its aroma hung about her -skirts, and its auroral light illuminated her very being. -She was April, with all its joys and all its happy tears—its -dear restlessness, and its thrills. I marveled to see how -the man of affairs loved her. It annoyed me to see how -this man, with all his vast concerns, his rugged schemes, his -vaulting ambition, bowed down at the feet of a child. It -was a very miracle of love that centered all the impulses, -aspirations, hopes, and endeavors of this man of the world -in a bright slip of a girl. She understood her power, too; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>and taking the reins of affairs in her little fingers, carried -herself with a pretty imperiousness. Not always was she -mistress, though. Once in awhile I noticed, when he held -her beneath his words, her eyes softened and fell, and she -sat half absorbed and trembling, thrilling under an ecstasy -that stirred her soul to its very depths, and yet left her -unconscious of what it meant or from what it came. I -watched this couple with a strange interest, and my heart -went out to the child. But beyond this there was nothing -interesting on shipboard. The people were all tame. They -seemed to have been planted on the ship, and grown there. -They were all indigenous; and hence, when the pilot—a -breezy fellow, by the way—jumped on board just outside of -New York, he brought with him the charm of a rare exotic, -and actually acquired a sort of game flavor, by being a -stranger.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>SOME CONCLUSIONS NOT JUMPED AT.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>Altogether, a trip on the ocean is a very great bore. It -does not compare to the cozy and bustling comforts of an -inland trip, especially if one have the benefits of a Pullman.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The ocean is meant to be looked at and enjoyed—from -the shore, or through books. You may see more of it by -going on board a ship. It is pretty apt to see more of you, -though, than you do of it. There are many moments during -the first day or two, when, leaning over the taffrail, -you yawp into its face, that it can see clear through to your -boots. That’s the way it was with</p> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>John, Jr.</span></div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span> - <h2 class='c012'>TWO MEN WHO HAVE THRILLED THE STATE.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c037'>AN ACCIDENTAL MEETING ON THE STREET, IN WHICH TWO -GREAT MEN ARE RECOGNIZED AS THE TYPES OF TWO -CLASHING THEORIES—TOOMBS’S SUCCESSES—BROWN’S -JUDGMENT.</p> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c020'>THE other day I saw two men meet on the street, bow -cordially, and pass. I was struck by the contrast -between them—by the difference in their walk, appearance -and manner. This suggested that the contrast in their lives, -in their lineage and their methods, was even greater than -their physical make-up. And then, forgetting for the moment -that a gubernatorial campaign of great fierceness was -raging, I fell to wondering if there had ever been two masterful -men whose paths lay near each other, and whose performance -was so nearly equal, who had been born in such dissimilar -conditions, and moved by such dissimilar motives. -Joe Brown and Bob Toombs! Both illustrious and great—both -powerful and strong—and yet at every point, and -from every view, the perfect opposites of each other.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Through two centuries have two strains of blood, two -conflicting lines of thought, two separate theories of social, -religious and political life, been working out the two types -of men, which have in our day flowered into the perfection -of contrast—vivid, thorough pervasive. For seven generations -the ancestors of Joe Brown have been aggressive -rebels; for a longer time the Toombs have been dauntless -and intolerant followers of the king and kingliness. At -the siege of Londonderry—the most remarkable fasting -match beyond Tanner—Margaret and James Brown, grandparents -of the James Brown who came to America and was -grandparent of Joe Brown, were within the walls starving -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>and fighting for William and Mary; and I have no doubt -there were hard-riding Toombs outside the walls charging -in the name of the peevish and unhappy James. Certain it -is that forty years before, the direct ancestors of General -Toombs on the Toombs estate were hiding good King -Charles in the oak at Boscabel, where, I have no doubt, the -father and uncles of the Londonderry Brown, with cropped -hair and severe mien, were proguing about the place with -their pikes, searching every bush, in the name of Cromwell -and the psalm-singers. From these initial points sprang -the two strains of blood—the one affluent, impetuous, prodigal, -the other slow, resolute, forceful. From these ancestors -came the two men—the one superb, ruddy, fashioned -with incomparable grace and fulness; the other pale, -thoughtful, angular, stripped down to bone and sinew. -From these opposing theories came the two types—the one -patrician, imperious, swift in action and brooking no stay; -the other democratic, sagacious, jealous of rights and submitting -to no imposition. The one for the king; the other -for the people. It does not matter that the elder Toombs -was a rebel in Virginia against the fat George, for that -revolt was kingly of itself, and the Virginian cavaliers went -into it with love-locks flying and care cast to the winds, -feeling little of the patient spirit of James Brown, who, by -his Carolina fireside, fashioned his remonstrance slowly, -and at last put his life upon the issue.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Governor Brown and General Toombs started under circumstances -in accordance with the suggestions of the foregoing. -General Toombs’s father had a fine estate, given -him by the State of Georgia, and his son had a fine education -and started in life in liberal trim. Governor Brown -had nothing, and for years hauled wood to Dahlonega; -and sold vegetables from a basket to the hotel and what -others would buy. Young Toombs made money rapidly, -his practice for the first five years amounting to much over -$50,000. He conquered by the grace of his genius, and -went easily from triumph to triumph. Young Brown -moved ahead laboriously but steadily. He made only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>about $1200 his first year, and then pushed his practice to -$2000 or $3000. He made no brilliant reputation, but never -lost a client, and added to his income and practice. His -progress was the result of hard labor and continuous work. -He lived moderately and his habits were simple. General -Toombs has lived in princely style all his life, and has -always been fond of wine and cards. Both men are rich, -and both are well preserved for their time of life. General -Toombs is seventy-one and Governor Brown fifty-nine. -Each had a lucky stroke early in life, and in both cases -it was in a land investment. General Toombs bought -immense tracts of Texas land, of which he has sold perhaps -$100,000 profit and still holds enough to yield double -or treble that much more. Governor Brown, when very -young, paid $450 for a piece of land, and afterward sold -a half interest in a copper mine thereon for $25,000. -This he invested in farms, and thus laid the basis of his -fortune.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The first time these men met was in Milledgeville, in -1851 or ’52, when Governor Brown was a young Democratic -State Senator and General Toombs was a Whig Congressman—then -the idol of his party and the most eloquent man -in Georgia. They were then just such men physically as -one who had never seen them would imagine from reading -their lives. General Toombs was, as Governor Brown -has told me, “the handsomest man he ever saw.” His -physique was superb, his grand head fit for a crown, his -presence that of a king, overflowing with vitality, his -majestic face illumined with his divine genius. Governor -Brown was then pallid, uncomely—his awkward frame -packed closely with nerve and sinew, and fed with a -temperate flow of blood. They met next at Marietta, where -Toombs had a fiery debate with that rare master of discussion, -the late Robert Cowart. Governor Brown was -deeply impressed with the power and genius of that wonderful -man, but General Toombs thought but little of the -awkward young mountaineer. For later, when in Texas, -hearing that Joe Brown was nominated for Governor, he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>did not even remember his name, and had to ask a Georgia-Texan -“who the devil it was.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>But the next time he met him he remembered it. Of -course we all remember when the “Know-Nothings” took -possession of the Whig party, and Toombs and Stephens -seceded. Stephens having a campaign right on him, and -being pressed to locate himself, said he was neither Whig -nor Democrat, but “was toting his own skillet,” thus -introducing that homely but expressive phrase into our -political history. Toombs was in the Senate and had time -for reflection. It ended by his marching into the Democratic -camp. Shortly afterward he was astounded at seeing -the standard of his party, upon the success of which his -seat in the Senate depended, put in the hands of Joe Brown, -a new campaigner, while the opposition was led by Ben -Hill, then as now an audacious and eloquent speaker, incomparable -on the stump. Hill and Brown had had a meeting -at Athens, I believe, and it was reported that Brown -had been worsted. Howell Cobb wrote Toombs that he -must take the canvass in hand at once, at least until Brown -could learn how to manage himself. Toombs wrote to -Brown to come to his home at Washington, which he did. -General Toombs told me that he was not hopeful when he -met the new candidate, but after talking to him awhile, -found that he had wonderful judgment and sagacity. -After coquetting with Mr. Hill a while, they started on a -tour together, going to south Georgia. General Toombs -has talked to me often about this experience. He says that -after two or three speeches Governor Brown was as fully -equipped as if he had been in public for forty years, and he -was amazed at the directness with which he would get to -the hearts of the masses. He talked in simple style, using -the homeliest phrases, but his words went home every -time. There was a sympathy between the speaker and the -people that not even the eloquence of Toombs could emphasize, -or the matchless skill of Mr. Hill disturb. In Brown -the people saw one of themselves, lifted above them by his -superior ability, and his unerring sagacity, but talking to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>them common sense in a sensible way. General Toombs -soon saw that the new candidate was more than able to -take care of himself, and left him to make his tour alone—impressed -with the fact that a new element had been introduced -into our politics and that a new leader had arisen.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is hard to say which has been the more successful of -the two men. Neither has ever been beaten before the -people. General Toombs has won his victories with the -more ease. He has gone to power as a king goes to his -throne, and no one has gainsaid him. Governor Brown -has had to fight his way through. It has been a struggle -all the time, and he has had to summon every resource to -carry his point. Each has made unsurpassed records in -his departments. As Senator, General Toombs was not -only invincible, he was glorious. As Governor, was not -only invincible, he was wise. General Toombs’s campaigns -have been unstudied and careless, and were won by his -presence, his eloquence, his greatness. His canvass was -always an ovation, his only caucusing was done on the hustings. -With Governor Brown it was different. He planned -his campaigns and then went faithfully through them. -His victories were none the less sure, because his canvass -was more laborious. His nomination as Governor, while -unexpected, was not accidental. It was the inevitable outcome -of his young life, disciplined so marvelously, so full -of thought, sagacity and judgment. If he had not been -nominated Governor then, his time would have come at last, -just as sure as cause produces result. His record as Governor -proves that he was prepared for the test—just as his -brilliant record in the Senate proves that he is fitted for -any sphere to which he might be called.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To sum it up: Toombs is the embodiment of genius, and -Brown is the embodiment of common sense. One is brilliant, -the other unerring; one is eloquent, the other sagacious. -Toombs moves by inspiration; Brown is governed by -judgment. The first is superb; the latter is sage. Despite -the fact that Governor Brown is by instinct and by -inheritance a rebel, he is prudent, conservative, and has a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>turn for building things up. General Toombs, despite -his love for kingliness and all that implies, has an almost -savage instinct for overturning systems and tearing things -down. It must not be understood that I depreciate General -Toombs’s wisdom. Genius often flies as true to its mark -as judgment can go. The wisest speech, and the ablest ever -made by an American, in my opinion, is Mr. Toombs’s -speech on slavery, delivered in Boston about ten years -before the war. In that speech he showed a prescience -almost divine, and clad in the light of thirty years of confirmation, -it is simply marvelous. His leadership of the -southern Whigs in the House during the contest of 1850 was -a masterpiece of brilliancy, and even his Hamilcar speech, -delivered after the most exasperating insults, was sublime -in its lofty eloquence and courage. Safer as a leader, -Governor Brown is more sagacious on material points—truer -to the practical purposes of government: but no man -but Toombs could have represented Georgia as he did for -the decade preceding 1860.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Messrs. Brown and Toombs have disagreed since the war. -That Governor Brown may have been wiser in “reconstruction” -than Mr. Toombs, many wise men believe, and -events may have proved. In that matter my heart was -with Mr. Toombs, and I have never seen reason to recall it. -That Governor Brown was honest and patriotic in his -advice, my knowledge of the man would not permit me to -doubt. The trouble between these gentlemen came very -near resulting in a duel. While I join with all good men -that this duel was arrested, I confess that I have been wicked -enough to speculate on its probable result—had it occurred. -In the first place, General Toombs made no preparation for -the duel. He went along in his careless and kingly way, -trusting, presumably, to luck and quick shot. Governor -Brown, on the contrary, made the most careful and deliberate -preparation. He made his will, put his estate in -order, withdrew from the church, and then clipped all the -trees in his orchard practicing with the pistol. Had the -duel come off—which fortunately it did not—General -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>Toombs would have fired with his usual magnificence and -his usual disregard of rule. I do not mean to imply that -he would not have hit Governor Brown; on the contrary, -he might have perforated him in a dozen places at once. -But one thing is sure—Governor Brown would have clasped -his long white fingers around the pistol butt, adjusted it to -his gray eye, and sent his bullet within the eighth of an -inch of the place he had selected. I should not be surprised -if he drew a diagram of General Toombs, and marked off -with square and compass the exact spot he wanted to hit.</p> - -<p class='c018'>General Toombs has always been loose and prodigal in -his money matters. Governor Brown has been precise and -economical all his life, and gives $50,000 to a Baptist -college—not a larger amount probably than General Toombs -has dispensed casually, but how much more compact and -useful! This may be a good fact to stop on, as it furnishes -a point of view from which the two lives may be logically -surveyed. Two great lives they are, illustrious and distinguished—utterly -dissimilar. Georgia could have spared -neither and is jealous of both. I could write of them -for hours, but the people are up and the flags are flying, -and the journalist has no time for moralizing or leisurely -speculation.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span> - <h2 class='c012'>“<em class='gesperrt'>BOB</em>.”</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c007'> - <div><span class='sc'>How an Old Man “Come Home.”</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='sc'>A Story Without a Moral, Picked Out of a Busy Life.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='c033'>[WRITTEN FOR THE SUNDAY GAZETTE.]</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>“YOU are the no-countest, laziest, meanest dog that -ever wore breeches! Never let me see you again!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Thus Mrs. Tag to Mr. Tag, her husband; she standing -in the door, her arms akimbo, and, cat-like, spitting the -words at him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Tag made no reply. He did not even put up his -hands in evasion. He stood dazed and bewildered, as one -who hesitates in a sudden shower, and then turning, pulled -his old hat down over his shoulders, as if she was throwing -rocks at him instead of words, and shambled off in silence, -quickening his retreat by a pitiful little jerk, every time -she launched a new volley at him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This she did as often as her brains could forge them and -her tongue send them. She stood there, the very picture -of fury. And at length, with disgust on every feature, she -turned, sprawled a weevilly little child that was clinging -to her skirts, and went into the house.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As for Mr. Tag, he hurried on, never once looking back -until he had reached a hill, against which the sun was setting. -He then slowed up a little, lifted the flap of his hat -cautiously, as if to be sure he was out of ear-shot—then -stopped. He pulled off his hat, shook it to and fro—unconsciously, -I think—in his hand as one who comes out of the -storm. He looked about him a while, as if undetermined, -and then browsed about vaguely in the sunset, until his -bent, shambling figure seemed melting into the golden glory -that enveloped it; and his round, chubby head was tipped -with light.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>I thought probably he wanted to see me, so I climbed -up the hill. He seemed to approve of my coming, and -walked down in the shade to meet me.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Ann was sorter rough to me, wan’t she?” he said, -with a chuckle of deprecation.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I assented quietly to the lack of smoothness in Ann’s -remarks.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“You aint know’d me long,” he said, with a sudden -flicker of earnestness; “and you’ve knowed the worst part -of me. You’ve knowed the trouble and the fag-end. You -warn’t in at the good part of my life!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>I should think not, poor fellow. Ever since I had -known him he had been the same shabby, good-for-nothing -that he is now. He had grown a bit more serious of late, -and his long face—it was abnormally long between the eyes -and the chin—had whitened somewhat, but otherwise he -was about the same shabby, ragged, half-starved old fellow -I had known for a year or so. Yes, Bob, I had clearly -known the worst of you!</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I was a better man once; not a better man, either, as -I know of, but I had luck. When me and Ann married, -there warn’t a happier couple nowhere. I remember just -as well when I courted her. She didn’t think about me -then as she does now. We had a buggy to ourselves, and -we turned down a shady road. I fetched it on soon after -we left the crowd, and she was about as well pleased as -me. It seemed like that road was the road to heaven, and -we was so happy that we wasn’t in no hurry to get to the -end of it. Ann was handsome then. Oh yes, she was!”—as -I winced at this,—“and at first as good a wife to me as -ever a man had.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“It may a-been me that started the trouble. I was -unfortnit in everything I touched. My fingers slipped off -o’ everything and everything slipped off o’ them. I could -get no grip on nothin’. I worked hard, but something -harder agin me. Ann was ambitious and uppish, and I -used to think when I come home at night, most tired to -death, she was gettin’ to despise me. She’d snap me up -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>and abuse me till actually I was afraid to come home. I -never misused her or give her a back word. I thought -maybe she wasn’t to blame, and that what she said about -me was true. Things kept a-gitten worse, and we sold off -pretty much what we had. Five years ago a big surprise -came to us. It was a baby—a boy—him!” nodding toward -the hut. “It was a surprise to both of us. We’d been -married fourteen years. It made Ann harder on me than -ever. She never let me rest; it was all the time hard words -and hard looks. I never raised even a look against her, o’ -course. I thought she was right about me. He never had -a cross word with me. Him and me knowed each other from -the start. We had a langwidge of our own. Ther wasn’t no -words in it—just looks and grunts. I never could git -‘nough, nuther could he. He know’d more an’ me. Ther -was a kinder way-off look in his eyes that was solemn and -deep, I tell you. At last Ann got to breaking me up. -Whenever she catch me with him she’d drive me off. I’d -always hurry off, ’cause I never wanted him to hear her -’spressin herself ’bout me. ’Peared like he understood -every word of it. Mos’t two years ago, and I ain’t had one -since. I couldn’t git one. Ann commenced takin’ in washing, -and one day she said I shouldn’t hang around no more -a-eatin’ him and her out of house and home. That was -more’n a year ago, and I seen him since to talk to him. -Every time I go about she hustles me about like she did to-day. -I never make no fuss. She’s right about me, I -reckon. I am powerful no ’count. But he has stirred -things in me I ain’t felt movin’ for many a year!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“What’s his name, Bob?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Got none. She never would let me talk to her ’bout -it, and I ain’t got no right to name him. I ast her once -how it would do to call him little Bob, and she said I better -git him sumpin’ to eat; he couldn’t eat a name, nor -dress in it neither; which was true. But he’s got my old -face on him, and my look. I know that, and he knows it -too.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Did you ever drink, Bob?”</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>“Me? You know I didn’t. I did get drunk once. The -boys give me the wine. They say liquor makes a man savage, -and makes him beat his wife. It didn’t take me that -way. I was the happiest fellow you ever see. I felt light -and free. My blood was warm, and just jumped along—and -beat Ann? why, all the old love come back to me, as I -went to’ards home, feelin’ big as a king. I made as how -I’d go up to Ann and put arm aroun’ her neck in the old -way, and tell her if she’d only encourage me a little, I’d -get about for her and him and make ’em both rich. I -couldn’t hardly wait to get home, I was so full of it. She -was just settin’ down a pail of water when I come in. I -made for her, gentle like, and had just got my arms to her -neck, when she drawed back, with a few words like them -this evening, and dosed the pail of water full in my face. -As I scrambled out o’ the door, sorter blind like, I struck -the edge o’ the gulley there, rolled down head over heels, -and fotch up squar’ at the bottom, as sober a man as ever -you see!”</p> - -<hr class='c032' /> - -<p class='c018'>I met Bob a few days after that in a state of effusive -delight. He would not disclose himself at first. He followed -me through several blocks, and at length, diving -into an alley, beckoned me cautiously to him. He took -off his old hat, always with him a preliminary to conversation, -and glancing cautiously around, said in a hoarse -whisper:</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Had a pic-nic to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“A pic-nic! Who?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Me and him!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And his wrinkled, weather-beaten old face was broken -by smiles and chuckles, that struggled to the surface, as -porpoises do, and then shrunk back into the depths from -whence they came.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“You don’t know Phenice—the neighbor’s gal as -nusses him sometimes? Well, I seed her out with him, -to-day, and I tolled her off kinder, till she got beyant the -hill, and then I give her a quarter I had got, and purposed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>as how she should gi’ me a little time with him. She -sciddled off to town to git her quarter spent, and I took -him and made for the woods, to meet her thar agin, -by sun!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“He’s a deep one, I tell you!” he said, drawing a -breath of admiration; “as deep a one as I ever see. He’d -never been in the woods before, but he jest knowed it all! -You orter seed him when a jay-bird come and sot on a -high limb, and flung him some sass, and tried to sorter to -make free with him. The look that boy give him couldn’t -a’ been beat by nobody. The jay tried to hold up to it -and chaffered a little, but he finally had to skip, the wust -beat bird you ever saw!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And so the old fellow went on, telling me about that -wonderful pic-nic; how he had gathered flowers for the -baby, and made little bouquets, which the baby received -with a critical air, as if he had spent his life in a florist’s -shop, and being a connoisseur in flowers, couldn’t afford -to become enthusiastic over pied daisies; how a gray -squirrel scampering down a near tree had startled him out -of his wits, while the baby, seated still nearer the disturbance -than he, remained a marvel of stolidity and presence -of mind; how the baby was finally coaxed out of his wise -reserve by a group of yellow butterflies pulsating in the -golden sunshine, and by the flashing of the silvery brook -that ran beneath them; how all the birds in the county -seemed to have entered into a conspiracy to upset that -baby’s dignity; and how they would assail him with -pert bursts of song and rapid curvetings about his head, -while Bob sat off at a distance, “and let ’em fight it out, -not helping one side or t’other,” always to see the chatterers -retire in good-humored defeat before the serene -impassibility of the youngster; how the only drawback to -the pic-nic was that there was not a thing to eat, and -besides its being in violation of all pic-nic precedent, there -was danger of the little one getting very hungry; and -how, in the evening—what would have been after dinner if -they’d had any dinner—the baby, who was sitting opposite -<span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>Bob on the grass, suddenly assumed an air of deeper -solemnity, even than he had worn before, and gazed at -Bob with a dense and inscrutable gaze, until he was -actually embarrassed by the searching and fixed character -of this look; and how the round, grave head suddenly -keeled to one side as if it were so heavy with ideas that it -could not be held upright any longer; and how then, suddenly, -and without a sign or hint of warning, this self-possessed -baby tumbled over in the grass, shot his little -toes upward, and, before Bob could reach him, was dead -asleep! And Bob told me then, with the glittering tears -gathering in his eyes and rolling down his old cheeks, how -he had picked the baby up and cuddled him close to his -old bosom, and listened to his soft breathing, and stroked -his chubby face, and almost guessed the wise dreams that -were flitting through his round fuzzy head,—hugged him -so close, and pressed him to his bosom with such hungry, -tender love, that he felt as if he had him “layin’ agin’ my -naked heart, and warmin’ it up, and stirrin’ all its strings -with his little fingers!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was late that night when I went home—after one -o’clock; a fearful night, too. The rain was pouring in torrents -and the wind howled like mad. Taking a near -cut home, I passed by the hut where Bob’s wife lived. -Through the drifting rain, I saw a dark figure against the -side of the house. Stepping closer, I saw that it was Bob, -mounted on a barrel, flattened out against the planks, his -old felt hat down about his ears, and the rain pouring from -it in streams—his face glued to the window.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Poor old follow! there he was! oblivious to the storm, -to hunger and everything else—clinging like some homeless -night-bird, drifting and helpless, to the outside of his -own home; gazing in stealthily at the bed where the little -one slept, and warming his old heart up with the memory of -that wondrous pic-nic—of the solemn contest with the impertinent -jay-bird, and the grave rapture over the butterflies -that swung lazily about in their rift of sunshine.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>One morning, many months after the pic-nic, Bob came -to me sideways. His right arm hung limp and inert by his -side, and his right leg dragged helplessly after the left. -The yielding muscles of the neck had stiffened and drawn -his head awry. He stumbled clumsily to where I was -standing, and received my look of surprise shamefacedly.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I’ve had a stroke,” he said. “Paralysis? It’s most -used me up. I reckon I’ll never be able to do anything for -him! It came on me sudden,” he said, as if to say that if -it had given him any sort of notice, he could have dodged it.</p> - -<p class='c018'>After that Bob went on from worse to worse. His face, -all save that fixed in the rigid grasp of the paralysis, -became tremulous, pitiful and uncertain. He had lost all -the chirrupy good-humor of the other days, and became -shy and silent. There was a wistfulness and yearning in -his face that would have made your heart ache; a hungry -passion had struggled from the depth of his soul, and -peered out of his blue eyes, and tugged at the corners of -his mouth. There was, too, a pitiful, scary look about him. -He had the air of one who is pursued. At the slightest -sigh he would pluck at his lame leg sharply, and shamble -off, turning full around at intervals to see if he was followed. -I learned that his wife had become even harder on -him since his trouble, and that he was even more than ever -afraid of her.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He had never had another “pic-nic.” He had snatched -a furtive interview with the baby, under protection of the -occasional nurse, from each of which he came to me with a -new idea of the “deepness” of that infant. “He’s too -much for me, that baby is!” he would say. “If I just -had his sense!” He was rapidly getting shabbier, and -thinner and more woe-begone. He became a slink. He -hid about in the day-time, avoiding everybody, and seeming -to carry off his love and his passion, as a dog with a -bone, seeking an alley. At night he would be seen hanging -like a guilty thief about the hut in which his treasure -was hid.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“I’ve a mind,” he said one morning, “to go home. I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>don’t think she” (he had quit calling her “Ann” now) -“could drive me out now. All I’d want would be to just -sit in a corner o’ the house and be with him. That’s all.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Bob,” I said to him one morning, “you rascal, you -are starving!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>He couldn’t deny it. He tried to put it off, but he -couldn’t. His face told on him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Have you had anything to eat to-day?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Nor yesterday?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“No, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>I gave him a half-dollar. A wolfish glare of hunger -shot into his eyes as he saw the money. He clutched it -with a spasm of haste and started off. I watched his side-long -walk down the street, and then went to work, satisfied -that he would go off and pack himself full.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was hardly an hour before he came back, his face -brighter than I had seen it in months. He carried a bundle -in his live hand. He laid it on my desk, and then fell -back on his dead leg while I opened it. I found in the -bundle a red tin horse, attached to a blue tin wagon, on -which was seated a green tin driver. I looked up in blank -astonishment.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“For him!” he said simply. And then he broke down. -He turned slowly on his live leg as an axis and leaned -against the wall.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Could you send it to him?” he said at last. “If she -knew I sent it, she mightn’t let him have it. He’s never -had nothin’ o’ this kind, and I thought it might pearten -him up.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Bob, is this the money I gave you?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Yes, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“And you were starving when you left here?”</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Oh, I got some bread!”</p> - -<hr class='c032' /> - -<p class='c018'>I suppose every man, woman and child remembers that -terrible night three years ago when we had lightning while -the snow was on the ground. The flashes plowed great -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>yellow seams through the gray of the day, and at night a -freezing storm of sleet and rain came.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was a terrible night. I staggered home through it to -where a big fire, and blue eyes and black, and slippers, and -roasting apples were awaiting me. I thought of Bob—my -old night-owl, with a heart in him, and wondered whether -he was keeping his silent, but uncomplaining vigil about -the little hut on the hillside. I even went so far as to -speculate on this point with a certain blue-eyed youngster -on my knee, to whom Bob’s life was a romance and a -wonder.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Bless me! and all the time I was pitying him, I didn’t -know that he had “gone home” and was all right.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His wife slept uneasily that night, as she has since said. -She rolled in her sleep a long time, and at last got up and -went to the window and looked out. She shuddered at the -sound of the whizzing sleet and pitiless hum of the rain on -the roof. Then she stumbled sleepily back to her couch, -and dreamed of a long shady lane, and a golden-green -afternoon in May, and a bright-faced young fellow that -looked into her heart, and held her face in his soft fingers. -How this dream became tangled in her thoughts that night -of all nights, she never could tell. But there it was gleaming -like a thread of gold through the dismal warp and woof -of her life.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was full day when she awoke. As she turned lazily -upon her side she started up in affright. There was a man, -dripping wet, silent, kneeling by her bedside. An old felt -hat lay upon the floor. The man’s head was bowed deep -down over the bed and his hands were bundled tenderly -about one of the baby’s fists that had been thrown above -its head.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The worn, weatherbeaten figure was familiar to her. -But there was something that stopped her, as she started -forward angrily. She stood posed like a statue for a -moment, then bent down, curiously and tenderly, and with -trembling fingers pulled the cover back from the bed, and -looked up into the man’s face steadily. Then she put her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>fingers on his hand furtively and shrinkingly. And then -a strange look crept into her face—the dream of the night -came to her like a flash—and she sank back upon the floor, -and dropped her head between her knees.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Ah, yes, Bob had “come home.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And the poor fellow had come to stay. Not even his -place in the corner would he want now! No place about -the scanty board! Just to stay—that was all; not to offend -by his laziness, or to annoy with his ugly, shambling figure, -and his no-count ways. Just “come home to stay!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And there the baby slept quietly, all unconscious of the -shadow and the mystery that hung above his wise little -head—unconscious of the shabby old watcher, and the -woman on the floor, dreaming, perhaps, of the swinging -butterflies and the chaffing birds and the brook flashing in -the sunshine. And there was old Bob—brave, at last, -through love—“come home.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Out of the storm like a night-bird! In the door -stealthily like a thief! Groping his way to the bedside -through the dark like a murderer! But there was no -danger in him—no ill-omen about him. It was only old -Bob, come home, “come home to stay!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>He had clasped the little hand he loved so well in his -rough palm and cuddled it close, as if he hoped to hold it -always—fondled it in his hands, as if he hoped to ride his -own life on the spring-tide that gathered in its rosy palm, -or to catch that young life in the ebbing billows that wasted -from his cold fingers. But no; the baby was “too much -for him!” And the young heart, all unconscious and all -perverse, sent the rich blood through the little arm, down -the slender wrist, and into the dimpled fist, where it pulsed -and throbbed uneasily, as it broke against the chill, stark -presence of Death!</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span> - <h2 class='c012'>COTTON AND ITS KINGDOM.<a id='r1' /><a href='#f1' class='c038'><sup>[1]</sup></a></h2> -</div> - -<div class='fn'> - -<div class='footnote c007' id='f1'> -<p class='c017'><span class='label'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. </span>Reprinted from Harper’s Magazine, Oct., 1881.</p> -</div> - -</div> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>IT has long been the fortune of the South to deal with -special problems—slavery, secession, reconstruction. -For fifty years has the settlement of these questions engaged -her people, and challenged the attention of the world. As -these issues are set aside finally, after stubborn and bloody -conflict, during which she maintained her position with -courage, and abided results with fortitude, she finds herself -confronted with a new problem quite as important as -either of those that have been disposed of. In the cultivation -and handling, under the new order of things, of the -world’s great staple, cotton, she is grappling with a matter -that involves essentially her own welfare, and is of the -greatest interest to the general public. To the slaveholder -the growing of cotton was straight and easy, as the product -of his land was supplemented by the increase of his slaves, -and he prospered in spite of himself. To the Southern -farmer of <i>post-bellum</i> days, impoverished, unsettled, and -thrown upon free labor, working feverishly with untried -conditions, poorly informed as to the result of experiments -made by his neighbors, and too impatient to wait upon his -own experience, it is quite a different affair. After sixteen -years of trial, everything is yet indeterminate. And -whether this staple is cultivated in the South as a profit or -a passion, and whether it shall bring the South to independence -or to beggary, are matters yet to be settled. -Whether its culture shall result in a host of croppers without -money or credit, appealing to the granaries of the -West against famine, paying toll to usurers at home, and -mortgaging their crops to speculators abroad even before -it is planted—a planting oligarchy of money-lenders, who -have usurped the land through foreclosure, and hold by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>the ever-growing margin between a grasping lender and an -enforced borrower—or a prosperous self-respecting race of -small farmers, cultivating their own lands, living upon -their own resources, controlling their crops until they are -sold, and independent alike of usurers and provision -brokers—which of these shall be the outcome of cotton -culture the future must determine. It is certain only in -the present that the vigor of the cotton producers and the -pace at which they are moving are rapidly forcing a settlement -of these questions, and that the result of the experiments -now swiftly working out in the South will especially -concern a large part of the human race, from the farmer -who plods down the cotton row, cutting through his doubts -with a hoe, to the spinner in Manchester who anxiously -balances the totals of the world’s crop.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It may be well to remark at the outset that the production -of cotton in the South is practically without limit. It -was 1830 before the American crop reached 1,000,000 -bales, and the highest point ever reached in the days of -slavery was a trifle above 4,500,000 bales. The crop of -1880-81 is about 2,000,000 in excess of this, and there are -those who believe that a crop of 8,000,000 bales is among -the certainties of the next few years. The heavy increase -in the cotton crop is due entirely to the increase of cotton -acreage brought about by the use of fertilizers. Millions -of acres of land, formerly thought to be beyond the possible -limit of the cotton belt, have been made the best of -cotton lands by being artificially enriched. In North Carolina -alone the limit of cotton production has been moved -twenty miles northward and twenty miles westward, and -the half of Georgia on which no cotton was grown twenty -years ago now produces fully half the crop of the State. -The “area of low production” as the Atlantic States are -brought to the front by artificial stimulation is moving -westward, and is now central in Alabama and Florida. -But the increase in acreage, large as it is, will be but a -small factor in the increase of production, compared to the -intensifying of the cultivation of the land now in use. Under -<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>the present loose system of planting, the average yield is -hardly better than one bale to three acres. This could be -easily increased to a bale an acre. In Georgia five bales -have been raised on one acre, and a yield of three bales to -the acre is credited to several localities. President Morehead, -of the Mississippi Valley Cotton Planters’ Association, -says that the entire cotton crop of the present year -might have been easily raised in fourteen counties along -the Mississippi River. It will be seen, therefore, that the -capacity of the South to produce cotton is practically limitless, -and when we consider the enormous demand for cotton -goods now opening up from new climes and peoples, we may -conclude that the near future will see crops compared to -which the crop of the past year, worth $300,000,000, will -seem small.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Who will be the producers of these vast crops of the -future? Will they be land-owners or tenants—planters or -farmers? The answer to this inquiry will be made by the -average Southerners without hesitation. “Small farms,” -he will say, “well tended by actual owners, will be the -rule in the South. The day of a land-holding oligarchy -has passed forever.” Let us see about this.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The history of agriculture—slow and stubborn industry -that it is—will hardly show stronger changes than have -taken place in the rural communities of the South in the -past fifteen years. Immediately after the war between the -States there was a period of unprecedented disaster. The -surrender of the Confederate armies found the plantations -of the South stripped of houses, fences, stock, and implements. -The planters were without means or prospects, -and uncertain as to what should be done. The belief that -extensive cotton culture had perished with slavery had put -the price of the staple up to thirty cents. Lured by the -dazzling price, which gave them credit as well as hope, the -owners of the plantations prepared for vast operations. -They refitted their quarters, repaired their fences, summoned -hundreds of negro croppers at high prices, and -invested lavishly their borrowed capital in what they felt -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>sure was a veritable bonanza. The few years that followed -are full of sickening failure. Planters who had been -princes in wealth and possessions suddenly found themselves -irretrievably in debt and reduced to beggary. -Under the stimulation of high prices the crops grew, until -there was a tumble from thirty to ten cents per pound. -Unable to meet their engagements with their factors, who, -suddenly awakening to the peril of the situation, refused -to make further advances or grant extensions, the planters -had no recourse but to throw their lands on the market. -But so terrible had been their experience—many losing -$100,000 in a single season—that no buyers were found for -the plantations on which they had been wrecked. The -result of this panic to sell and disinclination to buy was a -toppling of land values. Plantations that had brought -from $100,000 to $150,000 before the war, and even since, -were sold at $6000 to $10,000, or hung on the hands of -the planter and his factor at any price whatever. The ruin -seemed to be universal and complete, and the old plantation -system, it then seemed, had perished utterly and forever. -While no definite reason was given for the failure—free -labor and the credit system being the causes usually and -loosely assigned—it went without contradiction that the -system of planting under which the South had amassed its -riches and lived in luxury was inexorably doomed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Following this lavish and disastrous period came the -era of small farms. Led into the market by the low prices -to which the best lands had fallen, came a host of small -buyers, to accommodate whom the plantations were subdivided, -and offered in lots to suit purchasers. Never perhaps -was there a rural movement, accomplished without -revolution or exodus, that equalled in extent and swiftness -the partition of the plantations of the ex-slave-holders into -small farms. As remarkable as was the eagerness of the -negroes—who bought in Georgia alone 6850 farms in three -years—the earth-hunger of the poorer class of the whites, -who had been unable under the slave-holding oligarchy to -own land, was even more striking. In Mississippi there -<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>were in 1867 but 412 farms of less than ten acres, and in -1870, 11,003; only 2314 of over ten and less than twenty -acres, and 1870, 8981; only 16,024 between twenty and one -hundred acres, and in 1870, 38,015. There was thus in this -one State a gain of nearly forty thousand small farms of -less than one hundred acres in about three years. In -Georgia the number of small farms sliced off of the big -plantations from 1868 to 1873 was 32,824. In Liberty -County there were in 1866 only three farms of less than ten -acres; in 1870 there were 616, and 749 farms between ten -and twenty acres. This splitting of the old plantations -into farms went on with equal rapidity all over the South, -and was hailed with lively expressions of satisfaction. A -population pinned down to the soil on which it lived, made -conservative and prudent by land-ownership, forced to -abandon the lavish method of the old time as it had nothing -to spare, and to cultivate closely and intelligently as it -had no acres to waste, living on cost as it had no credit, -and raising its own supplies as it could not afford to buy—this -the South boasted it had in 1873, and this many -believe it has to-day. The small farmer—who was to -retrieve the disasters of the South, and wipe out the last -vestige of the planting aristocracy, between which and the -people there was always a lack of sympathy, by keeping -his own acres under his own supervision, and using hired -labor only as a supplement to his own—is still held to be -the typical cotton-raiser.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But the observer who cares to look beneath the surface -will detect signs of a reverse current. He will discover -that there is beyond question a sure though gradual -rebunching of the small farms into large estates, and a -tendency toward the re-establishment of a land-holding oligarchy. -Here and there through all the Cotton States, and -almost in every county, are reappearing the planter princes -of the old time, still lords of acres, though not of slaves. -There is in Mississippi one planter who raises annually -12,000 bales of cotton on twelve consolidated plantations, -aggregating perhaps 50,000 acres. The Capeheart estate -<span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>on Albemarle Sound, originally of several thousand acres, -had $52,000 worth of land added last year. In the Mississippi -Valley, where, more than anywhere else, is preserved -the distinctive cotton plantation, this re-absorbing of separate -farms into one ownership is going on rapidly. Mr. -F. C. Morehead, an authority on these lands, says that not -one-third of them are owned by the men who held them at -the close of the war, and that they are passing, one after -the other, into the hands of the commission merchants. It -is doubtful if there is a neighborhood in all the South in -which casual inquiry will not bring to the front from ten -to a dozen men who have added farm after farm to their -possessions for the past several years, and now own from -six to twenty places. It must not be supposed that these -farms are bunched together and run after the old plantation -style. On the contrary, they are cut into even smaller -farms, and rented to small croppers. The question involved -is not whether or not the old plantation methods shall be -revived. It is the much more serious problem as to whether -the lands divided forever into small farms shall be owned -by the many or by the few, whether we shall have in the -South a peasantry like that of France, or a tenantry like -that of Ireland.</p> - -<p class='c018'>By getting at the cause of this threatened re-absorption -of the small farmer into the system from which he so -eagerly and bravely sought release, we shall best understand -the movement. It is primarily credit—a false credit -based on usury and oppression, strained to a point where -it breeds distrust and provokes a percentage to compensate -for risk, and strained, not for the purchase of land, which -is a security as long as the debt is unpaid, but for provisions -and fertilizers, which are valueless to either secure the -lender or assist the borrower to pay. With the failure of -the large planters and their withdrawal from business, -banks, trust companies, and capitalists withdraw their -money from agricultural loans. The new breed of farmers -held too little land and were too small dealers to command -credit or justify investigation. And yet they were obliged -<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>to have money with which to start their work. Commission -merchants therefore borrowed the money from the -banks, and loaned it to village brokers or store-keepers, -who in turn loaned it to farmers in their neighborhood, -usually in the form of advancing supplies. It thus came -to the farmer after it had been through three principals, -each of whom demanded a heavy percentage for the risk he -assumed. In every case the farmer gave a lien or mortgage -upon his crop of land. In this lien he waived exemptions -and defense, and it amounted in effect to a deed. -Having once given such a paper to his merchant, his credit -was of course gone, and he had to depend upon the man -who held the mortgage for his supplies. To that man he -must carry his crop when it was gathered, pay him commission -for handling it, and accept the settlement that he -offered. To give an idea of the oppressiveness of this system -it is only necessary to quote the Commissioner of -Agriculture of Georgia, who by patient investigation discovered -that the Georgia farmers paid prices for supplies -that averaged fifty-four per cent. interest on all they -bought. For instance, corn that sold for eighty-nine cents -a bushel cash was sold on time secured by a lien at a dollar -and twelve cents. In Mississippi the percentage is even -more terrible, as the crop lien laws are in force there, and -the crop goes into the hands of the merchant, who charges -commission on the estimated number of bales, whether a -half crop or a full one is raised. Even this maladjustment -of credits would not impoverish the farmer if he did not -yield to the infatuation for cotton-planting, and fail to -plant anything but cotton.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Those who have the nerve to give up part of their land -and labor to the raising of their own supplies and stock have -but little need of credit, and consequently seldom get into -the hands of the usurers. But cotton is the money crop, -and offers such flattering inducements that everything -yields to that. It is not unusual to see farmers come to the -cities to buy butter, melons, meal, and vegetables. They -rely almost entirely upon their merchants for meat and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span>bread, hay, forage, and stock. In one county in Georgia -last year, from the small dépôts, $80,000 worth of meat and -bread was shipped to farmers. The official estimate of the -National Cotton Planters’ Association, at its session of -1881, was that the Cotton States lacked 42,252,244 bushels -of wheat, 166,684,279 bushels of corn, 77,762,108 bushels of -oats, or 286,698,632 bushels of grain, of raising what it consumed. -When to this is added 4,011,150 tons of hay at -thirty dollars a ton, and $32,000,000 paid for fertilizers, we -find that the value of the cotton crop is very largely consumed -in paying for the material with which it was made. -On this enormous amount the cotton farmer has to pay the -usurous percentage charged by his merchant broker, which -is never less than thirty per cent., and frequently runs up -to seventy per cent. We can appreciate, when we consider -this, the statement of the man who said, “The commission -merchants of the South are gradually becoming farmers, -and the farmers, having learned the trick, will become -merchants.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The remedy for this deplorable tendency is first the -establishment of a proper system of credit. The great -West was in much worse condition than the South some -years ago. The farms were mortgaged, and were being sold -under mortgages, under a system not half so oppressive as -that under which the Southern farmer labors. Boston capital, -seeking lucrative investment, soon began to pour toward -the West, in charge of loan companies, and was put out at -eight per cent., and the redemption of that section was -speedily worked out. A similar movement is now started -in the South. An English company, with headquarters -at New Orleans, loaned over $600,000 its first year at eight -per cent., with perfect security. The farmers who borrowed -this money were of course immensely relieved, and -the testimony is that they are rapidly working out. In -Atlanta, Georgia, a company is established with $2,000,000 -of Boston and New York capital, which it is loaning on -farm lands at seven per cent. In the first three months of -its work it loaned $120,000, and it has now appointed local -<span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>agents in thirty counties in the State, and advertises that -it wishes to lend $50,000 in each county. The managers -say that they can command practically unlimited capital -for safe risks at seven per cent. Companies working on -the same plan have been established elsewhere in the South, -and it is said that there will be no lack of capital for safe -risks on rural lands in a few years.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The first reform, however, that must be made is in the -system of farming. The South must prepare to raise her -own provisions, compost her fertilizers, cure her own hay, -and breed her own stock. Leaving credit and usury out of -the question, no man can pay seventy-five cents a bushel -for corn, thirty dollars a ton for hay, twenty dollars a -barrel for pork, sixty cents for oats, and raise cotton for -eight cents a pound. The farmers who prosper at the -South are the “corn-raisers,” <i>i.e.</i>, the men who raise their -own supplies, and make cotton their surplus crop. A -gentleman who recorded 320 mortgages last year testified -that not one was placed on the farm of a man who raised -his own bread and meat. The shrewd farmers who always -have a bit of money on hand with which to buy any good -place that is to be sold under mortgage are the “corn-raisers,” -and the moment they get possession they rule out -the all-cotton plan, and plant corn and the grasses. That -the plan of farming only needs revision to make the South -rich beyond measure is proven by constant example. A -corn-raiser bought a place of 370 acres for $1700. He at -once put six tenants on it, and limited their cotton acreage -to one-third of what they had under cultivation. Each one -of the six made more clear money than the former owner -had made, and the rents for the first year were $1126. The -man who bought this farm lives in Oglethorpe, Georgia, -and has fifteen farms all run on the same plan.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The details of the management of what may be the -typical planting neighborhood of the South in the future -are furnished me by the manager of the Capeheart estate in -North Carolina. This estate is divided into farms of fifty -acres each, and rented to tenants. These tenants are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>bound to plant fifteen acres in cotton, twelve in corn, eight -in small crops, and let fifteen lie in grass. They pay one-third -of the crop as rent, or one-half if the proprietor -furnishes horses and mules. They have comfortable quarters, -and are entitled to the use of surplus herring and the -dressings of the herring caught in the fisheries annexed to -the place. In the center of the estate is a general store -managed by the proprietor, at which the tenants have such -a line of credit as they are entitled to, of course paying a -pretty percentage of profit on the goods they buy. They -are universally prosperous, and in some cases, where by -skill and industry they have secured 100 acres, are laying -up money. The profits to Dr. Capeheart are large, and -show the margin there is in buying land that is loosely -farmed, and putting it under intelligent supervision. Of -the $52,000 worth of land added to his estates last year, at -a valuation of twenty-five dollars per acre, he will realize -in rental nine dollars per acre for every acre cultivated, and -calculates that in five years at the most the rentals of the -land will have paid back what he gave for it.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Amid all this transition from land-owner to tenant there -is, besides the corn-raiser, one other steadfast figure, undisturbed -by change of relation or condition, holding tenaciously -to what it has, though little inclined to push for -more. This is Cuffee, the darky farmer. There is no more -interesting study in our agriculture than this same dusky, -good-natured fellow—humble, patient, shrewd—as he drives -into town with his mixed team and his one bag of cotton, -on which, drawn by a sympathetic sense of ownership, his -whole family is clustered. Living simply and frugally, -supplementing his humble meal with a ’possum caught in -the night hunt, or a rabbit shot with the old army musket -that he captured from some deserted battle-field, and allowing -no idlers in the family save the youngsters who “tend -de free school,” he defies alike the usurer and the land-shark. -In the State of Georgia he owns 680,000 acres of -land, cut up into farms that barely average ten acres each, -and in the Cotton States he owns 2,680,800 acres, similarly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>divided. From this possession it is impossible to drive -him, and to this possession he adds gradually as the seasons -go by. He is not ambitious, however, to own large tracts -of land, preferring the few acres that he has constantly -under his eye, and to every foot of which he feels a rude -attachment.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The relations of the negro to cotton are peculiar. -Although he spends the most of his life in the cotton field, -and this staple is the main crop with which he is concerned, -it does not enter into his social life, catch his sentiment, -or furnish the occasion for any of his pleasures. None of -his homely festivals hinge upon the culture or handling of -the great staple. He has his corn-shuckings, his log-rollings, -his quilting bees, his threshing jousts, and indeed -every special work about the farm is made to yield its element -of frolic, except the making of cotton. None of those -tuneful melodies with which he beguiles his work or gladdens -his play-time acknowledge cotton as a subject or an -incident. None of the folklore with which the moonlight -nights are whiled away or the fire-lit cabins sanctified, and -which finds its home in the corn patch or the meadows, has -aught to do with the cotton field. I have never heard a -negro song in which the cotton field is made the incidental -theme or the subject of allusion, except in a broken perversion -of that incomparable ballad, “The Mocking-Bird,” -in which the name of the heroine, the tender sentiment, -and the tune, which is a favorite one with the negroes, are -preserved. This song, with the flower of Southern girlhood -that points the regretful tenderness changed into a -dusky maiden idealized by early death, with the “mocking-bird -singing o’er her grave,” and sung in snatches -almost without words or coherence, is popular with the -field hands in many parts of the South.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But when we have discussed the questions involved in -the planting and culture of the cotton crop, as serious as -they are, we have had to do with the least important phase -of our subject. The crop of 7,000,000 bales, when ready -for the market, is worth in round numbers $300,000,000. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>The same crop when manufactured is worth over $900,000,000. -Will the South be content to see the whole of -this added value realized by outsiders? If not, how much -of the work necessary to create this value will she do within -her own borders? She has abundant water-powers, that -are never locked a day by ice or lowered by drought, that -may be had for a mere song; cheap labor, cheap lands, an -unequaled climate, cheap fuel, and the conditions of cheap -living. Can these be utilized to any general extent?</p> - -<p class='c018'>It may be premised that there are questions of the -utmost importance to the South outside of the manufacture -of the lint, which is usually held to cover the whole question -of cotton manufacture. There is no particle of the -cotton plant that may not be handled to advantage. Mr. -Edward Atkinson is authority for the statement that if a -plant similar to cotton, but having no lint, could be grown -in the North, it would be one of the most profitable of -crops. And yet it is true that up to a late date the seed -of the cotton has been wholly wasted, and even now the -stalk is thrown away as useless. A crop of 7,000,000 bales -will yield 3,500,000 tons of cotton seed. Every ounce of this -seed is valuable, and in the past few years it has been so -handled as to add very heavily to the value of the crop. -The first value of the seed is as a fertilizer. It has been -discovered of late that the seed that had been formerly -allowed to accumulate about the gin-houses in vast piles -and rot as waste material, when put upon the fields would -add twenty-five to thirty-three per cent. to the crop, and -was equal to many of the fertilizers that sell in the market -for $25 per ton. In 1869 a mill was established in New -Orleans for the purpose of pressing the oil from the cotton -seed, and manufacturing the bulk into stock food. Its -success was so pronounced that there are now fifty-nine -seed-oil mills in the South, costing over $6,000,000, and -working up $5,500,000 worth of seed annually. The product -of the seed used sells for $9,600,000, so that the mills -create a value of $4,500,000 annually. They used only one-seventh -of the seed produced in the South. A ton of seed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>which can be worked for $5.50 a ton, and cost originally -$8 to $10, making an average cost when worked of $15, is -estimated to produce thirty-five gallons of oil worth $11.50, -seed-cake worth $5.50, and lint worth $1.50—a total of -$18.50, or profit of $3.50, per ton. The oil is of excellent -quality, and is used in the making of soaps, stearine, white -oils, and when highly refined is a table oil of such flavor -and appearance as will deceive the best judges. A quality -has been lately discovered in it that makes it valuable as a -dye-stuff. It is shipped largely to Europe, 130,000 barrels -having been exported last year, chiefly to Antwerp. It is -put up carefully, and re-shipped to this country as olive-oil -to such an extent that prohibitory duties have been put -on it by the Italian government, and it is ruled out of that -country. Before it is placed in the oil mill the cotton seed -is hulled. The hulls are valuable, and may be used for -tanning, made into pulp for paper stock, or used as fuel, -and the ashes sold to the soap-makers for the potash they -contain. The mass of kernels left after the hulls have been -removed and the oil pressed out is made into seed-cake, a -most desirable food for stock, which is exported largely to -Europe. It is also worked into a fertilizer that yields -under analysis $37.50 in value per ton, and can be sold for -$22 a ton. It is a notable fact that the ton of seed-cake is -even more valuable as a stock food after the $11.50 worth -of oil has been taken from it than before, and quite as valuable -as a fertilizer. In the four hundred pounds of lint -in a bale of cotton there are but four pounds of chemical -elements taken from the soil; in the oil there is little more; -but in the seed-cake and hulls there are forty pounds of -potash and phosphate of lime. But admirable as is the -disposition of the cotton seed for manufacture, ample as is -the margin of profit, and rapid as has been the growth in -the industry, there exists the same disorganization that is -noticeable in the handling of the whole cotton question. -Although less than one-seventh of the seed raised is needed -by the mills, they are unable to get enough to keep them -running. The cotton is ginned in such awkward distribution, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>and in such small quantity at any one locality, that -it cannot be gathered promptly or cheaply enough for the -oil mills. Of the 3,500,000 tons of seed, 500,000 tons only -are worked up, and perhaps as much more used for seed. -This leaves 2,500,000 tons not worked, and in which is lost -nearly $30,000,000 worth of oil. For whether this two and -a half million tons is used as a fertilizer or fed to the stock, -it would lose none of its value for either purpose if the -thirty-five gallons of oil, worth $11.50, were extracted from -each ton of it.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Even when the South has passed beyond the proper -handling of cotton seed, she has very important ground to -cover before she arrives at what is generally known as cotton -manufacturing. “The manufacture of this staple,” -says a very eminent authority, “is a unit, beginning at the -field where the cotton is picked, and ending at the factory -from which the cloth is sent to the merchant.” How little -this essential truth has been appreciated is apparent from -the fact that, until the last census, ginning, pressing, and -baling have been classed with the “production” of cotton, -and its manufacture held to consist solely of spinning and -weaving. Yet there is not a process to which the lint is -submitted after it is thrown from the negro’s “pocket” -that does not act directly on the quality of the cloth that -is finally produced, and on the cheapness and efficiency -with which the cloth is made. The separation of the fibre -from the seed, the disposition made of the fluffy lint before -it is compressed, the compression itself, and the baling of -the compressed cotton—these are all delicate operations, -involving the integrity of the fibre, the cost of getting it -ready for the spindle, and the ease with which it may be -spun. Indeed, Mr. Hammond, of South Carolina, a most -accomplished writer, contends that the gin-house is the -pivotal point around which the whole manufacture of cotton -revolves. There is no question that with one-tenth of the -money invested in improved gins, cleaners, and pressers -that would be required for factories, and with incomparably -less risk, the South could make one-half the profit, pound -<span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>for pound, that is made in the mills of New England. Mr. -F. C. Morehead, already alluded to in this article, says: -“A farmer who produces 500 bales of cotton—200,000 -pounds—can, by the expenditure of $1500 on improved gins -and cleaners, add one cent per pound to the value of his -crop, or $2000. If he added only one-half of one cent, he -would get in the first year over fifty per cent. return of his -outlay.” Mr. Edward Atkinson—to close this list of -authorities—says that the cotton crop is deteriorated ten -per cent. at least by being improperly handled from the -field to the factory. It is, of course, equally true that a -reform in this department of the manufacture of cotton -would add ten per cent. to the value of the crop—say -$30,000,000—and that, too, without cost to the consumer. -Much of the work now done in the mills of New England is -occasioned by the errors committed in ginning and packing. -Not only would the great part of the dust, sand, and grit -that get into cotton from careless handling about the gin-house -be kept out if it were properly protected, but that -which is in the fibre naturally could be cleaned out more -efficiently and with one-third the labor and cost, if it were -taken before it has been compressed and baled. Beyond -this, the excessive beating and tearing of the fibre necessary -to clean it after the sand has been packed in, weaken -and impair it, and the sand injures the costly and delicate -machinery of the mills.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The capital available to the farmers of any neighborhood -in the South is entirely adequate to make thorough -reform in this most important, safest, and most profitable -department of the manufacture of cotton. A gin-house -constructed on the best plan, supplied with the new roller -gins lately invented in England, that guarantee to surpass -in quantity of cotton ginned as well as quality of lint our -rude and imperfect saw gins, having automatic feeders to -pass the picking to the gin, and an apron to receive the -lint as it comes from the gin and carry it to the beater, or -cleaner, where all the motes and dust can be taken from -the freshly ginned fibre and then, instead of rolling this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>fleecy mass on a dirty floor, where it would catch every -particle of dust and grit, to carry it direct to a Dedrick -press that would compress forty pounds within a cubic -foot, and reduce the little bale of one hundred and twenty -pounds to the consistency of elm-wood, and as little liable -to soak water or catch dirt—an establishment of this sort -would add one cent per pound to every pound of cotton put -through it, and would be worth more as an example than a -dozen cotton factories. Annexed to this gin-house should -be a huller to take the hulls from the seed and to this -huller the seed should be taken as it comes from the gins. -Once hulled, the hulls should be fed to the stock, restored -to the soil, or sold, and the kernels sent to the nearest oil -mill, the oil sold, and the meal fed to sheep or stock, or -used as a fertilizer. These improvements, costing little, -and within the skill of ordinary laborers, would bring as -good a profit as could be realized by a factory involving -enormous outlay, great risk, and the utmost skill of management. -The importance of reform here will be seen when -we state that there is half as much capital—say $70,000,000—invested -in machinery for baling, pressing, and ginning -cotton as there is invested in the United States in -machinery for weaving and spinning it. So great has been -the progress in invention, and so sluggish the cotton farmer -to reform either his methods or his machinery, that experts -agree that the ginning, pressing, and baling of the crop -could be done with one-half or possibly one-third of the -labor and cost of the present, and done so much better that -the product would be worth ten per cent. more than it now -commands, if the best machinery were bought, and the -best methods employed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The urgency and the magnitude of the reforms needed -in the field and about the gin-house have not deterred the -South from aspiring to spin and weave at least the bulk -of the cotton crop. Indeed, there is nothing that so appeals -to Southern pride as to urge the possibility that in time -the manufacture of this crop as well as the crop itself shall -be a monopoly of the cotton belt. As the South grows -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>richer and the conditions of competition are nearer equal, -there will be a tendency to place new machinery intended -for the manufacture of cotton near the field in which the -staple is growing; but the extent to which this tendency -will control, or the time in which it will become controlling, -is beyond the scope of this article. We shall rather -deal with things as they are, or are likely to be in the very -near future. We note, then, that in the past ten years the -South has more than doubled the amount of cotton manufactured -within her borders. In 1870, there were used -45,032,866 pounds of cotton; in 1880, 101,937,256 pounds. -In 1870, there were 11,602 looms and 416,983 spindles running; -in 1880, 15,222 looms and 714,078 spindles. This -array of figures hardly indicates fairly the progress that -the South will make in the next ten years, for the reason -that the factories in which these spindles are turned are -experiments in most of the localities in which they are -placed. It is the invariable rule that when a factory is -built in any city or country it is easier to raise the capital -for a subsequent enterprise than for the first one. At -Augusta, Georgia, for instance, where the manufacture of -cloth has been demonstrated a success, the progress is -remarkable. In the past two years two new mills, the -Enterprise and Sibly, with 30,000 spindles each, have been -established; and a third, the King, has been organized, -with a capital of $1,000,000 and 30,000 spindles. The capital -for these mills was furnished about one-fourth in -Augusta, and the balance in the North. With these mills -running, Augusta will have 170,000 spindles, and will have -added about 70,000 spindles to the last census returns. In -South Carolina the same rapid growth is resulting from the -establishment of one or two successful mills; and in Columbus, -Georgia, the influence of one successful mill, the -Eagle and Phœnix, has raised the local consumption of -cotton from 1927 bales in 1870 to 19,000 bales in 1880. In -Atlanta, Georgia, the first mill had hardly been finished -before the second was started; a third is projected; and -two companies have secured charters for the building of a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>forty-mile canal to furnish water-power and factory fronts -to capital in and about the city. These things are mentioned -simply to show that the growth of cotton manufacture -in the South is sympathetic, and that each factory -established is an argument for others. There is no investment -that has proved so uniformly successful in the South -as that put into cotton factories. An Augusta factory just -advertises eight per cent. semi-annual dividend; the Eagle -and Phœnix, of Columbus, earned twenty-five per cent. -last year; the Augusta factory for eleven years made an -average of eighteen per cent. per annum. The net earnings -of the Langley Mills was $480,000 for its first eight years -on a capital of $400,000, or an average of fifteen per cent. -a year. The earnings of sixty Southern mills, large and -small, selected at random, for three years, averaged fourteen -per cent. per annum.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Indeed, an experience varied and extended enough to -give it authority teaches that there is absolutely no reason -why the South should not profitably quadruple its capacity -for the manufacture of cotton every year in the next five -years except the lack of capital. The lack of skilled labor -has proved to be a chimerical fear, as the mills bring enough -of skilled labor to any community in which they are established -to speedily educate up a native force. It may be -true that for the most delicate work the South will for a -while lack the efficient labor of New England that has been -trained for generations, but it is equally true that no factory -in the South has ever been stopped a week for the -lack of suitable labor. The operatives can live cheaper -than at the North, and can be had for lower wages. As -sensible a man as Mr. Edward Atkinson claimed lately that -in the cotton country proper a person could not keep at -continuous in-door labor during the summer. The answer -to this is that during the present summer, the hottest ever -known, not a Southern mill has stopped for one day or -hour on account of the heat, and this, too, when scores of -establishments through the Western and Northern cities -were closed. One of the strongest points of advantage the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>South has is that for no extreme of climate, acting on the -machinery, the operatives, or the water-supply, is any of -her mills forced to suspend work at any season. Beyond -this, Southern water-powers can be purchased low, and the -land adjacent at a song; there are no commissions to pay -on the purchase of cotton, no freight on its transportation, -and it is submitted to the picker before it has undergone -serious compression. Mr. W. H. Young, of Columbus, -perhaps the best Southern authority, estimates that the -Columbus mills have an advantage of nine-tenths of a cent -per pound over their Northern competitors, and this in a -mill of 1600 looms will amount to nine per cent. on the -entire capital, or $120,099. The Southern mills, without -exception, pulled through the years of depression that -followed the panic of 1873, paying regular dividends of -from six per cent. to fifteen, and, it may be said, have -thoroughly won the confidence of investors North and -South. The one thing that has retarded the growth of -manufacturing in the Cotton States, the lack of capital, is -being overcome with astonishing rapidity. Within the past -two years considerably over $100,000,000 of Northern capital -has been subscribed, in lots of $1,000,000 and upward, for -the purchase and development of Southern railroads and -mining properties; the total will probably run to $120,000,000. -There is now being expended in the building of -new railroads from Atlanta, Georgia, as headquarters, -$17,800,000, not one dollar of which was subscribed by -Georgians or by the State of Georgia. The men who -invest these vast amounts in the South are interested -in the general development of the section into which -they have gone with their enterprise, and they readily -double any local subscription for any legitimate local -improvement. By the sale of these railroad properties to -Northern syndicates at advanced prices the local stockholders -have realized heavily in cash, and this surplus is -seeking manufacturing investment. The prospect is that -the next ten years will witness a growth in this direction -beyond what even the most sanguine predict.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>The International Cotton Exposition, opening October 5, -of the present year, in Atlanta, must have a tremendous -influence in improving the culture, handling, and manufacture -of the great staple of the South. The Southern -people do not lack the desire to keep abreast with improvement -and invention, but on the contrary have shown precipitate -eagerness in reaching out for the best and newest. -Before the war, when the Southern planter had a little surplus -money he bought a slave. Since the war, he buys a -piece of machinery. The trouble has been that he was -forced to buy without any guide as to the value of what he -bought, or its adaptability to the purposes for which he -intended it. The consequence is that the farms are littered -with ill-adapted and inferior implements and machines, -representing twice the investment that, intelligently placed, -would provide an equipment that with half the labor would -do better work. It is the purpose of the exposition to -bring the farmers face to face with the very best machinery -that invention and experience have produced. The buildings -themselves will be models each of its kind, and will -represent the judgment of experts as to cheapness, durability, -safety and general excellence. The past and -present will be contrasted in the exhibition. The old loom -on which the rude fabrics of our forefathers were woven -by hands gentle and loving will be put against the more -elaborate looms of to-day. The spinning wheel of the past, -that filled all the country-side with its drowsy music, as -the dusky spinner advanced and retreated, with not ungraceful -courtesy and a swinging sidewise shuffle, will find -its sweet voice lost in the hum of modern spindles. The -cycle of gins and ginning will be there completed, invention -coming back, after a half-century of trial with the brutal -saw, to a perfected variation of the patient and gentle -roller with which the precious fleece was pulled from the -seed years upon years ago. There are the most wonderful -machines promised, including a half-dozen that claim to -have solved the problem—supposed to be past finding out—of -picking cotton by machinery. Large fields flank the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>buildings, and on these are tested the various kinds of cotton -seed, fed by the various kinds of fertilizers, each put in -fair competition with the others.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One of the most important special inventions at the -exposition will be the Clement attachment—a contrivance -for spinning the cotton as it comes from the gin. The -invention is simply the marriage of the gin to the spindle. -These are joined by two large cards that take the fibre from -the gin, straighten it out, and pass it directly to the spinning -boards, where it is made into the best of yarns. The -announcement of this invention two years ago created very -great excitement. If it proved a success, the whole system -of cotton manufacture was changed. If the cotton -could be spun directly from the gin, all the expense of -baling would be eliminated, and four or five expensive -steps in the process of cotton from field to cloth would be -rendered unnecessary. Better than all, the South argued, -the Clement attachment brought the heaviest part of manufacturing -to the cotton field, from which it could never -be divorced. By the simple joining of the spindles to the -gin, the cotton, worth only eight or nine cents as baled -lint, in which shape it had been shipped North, became -worth sixteen to eighteen cents as yarns. The home value -of the crop was thus to be doubled, and by such process as -New England could never capture. Several of the attachments -were put to work, and were visited by thousands. -They produced an excellent quality of yarns, and made a -clear profit of two cents per pound on the cotton treated. -The investment required was small, and it was held that -$5000 would certainly bring a net annual profit of $2200. -Many of these little mills are still running, and profitably; -but difficulties between the owner and his agents, and a -general suspicion raised by his declining to put the machine -on its merits before certain agricultural associations, prevented -its general adoption. That this attachment, or -some machine of similar character for spinning the -cotton into yarns near the field where it is grown, will be -generally adopted through the South in the near future, I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>have not a particle of doubt; that the exposition with its -particular exhibits on this point will hasten the day, there -is every reason to hope. There are many yarn mills already -scattered through the South, but none of them promise the -results that will be achieved when the spindles are wedded -to the gin, and the same motive power drives both, carrying -the cotton without delay or compression from seed to -thread.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Such, then, in brief and casual review, is King Cotton, -his subjects, and his realm. Vast as his concerns and possessions -may appear at present, they are but the hint of -what the future will develop. The best authority puts the -amount of cotton goods manufactured in America at about -fourteen pounds per head of population, of which twelve -pounds per capita are retained for home consumption, -leaving only a small margin for export. On the Continent -there is but one country, probably—Switzerland—that -manufactures more cotton goods than it consumes; and -the Continent demands from Great Britain an amount of -cotton cloth that, added to its own supply, exhausts nearly -one-half the product of the English mills. It is hardly -probable that, under the sharp competition of American -mills, the capacity of either England or the Continent for -producing ordinary cotton cloths will be greatly increased. -But, with the yield of the English and Continental mills -at least measurably defined and now rapidly absorbed, -there is an enormous demand for machine-made cotton -fabrics springing from new and virtually exhaustless -sources. The continents of Asia, Africa, South America, -Australia, and the countries lying between the two American -continents, contain more than 800,000,000 people, -according to general authority. This immense population -is clothed in cotton almost exclusively, and almost as -exclusively in hand-made fabrics. That the cheap and -superior products of the modern factory will displace -these hand-made goods as rapidly as they can be delivered -upon competing terms, cannot be doubted. To supply -China alone with cotton fabrics made by machine, deducting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>the 35,000,000 people or thereabout already supplied, -and estimating the demand of the remainder at five pounds -per capita, would require 3,000,000 additional bales of -cotton and 30,000,000 additional spindles. The goods -needed for this demand will be the lower grades of cottons, -for the manufacture of which the South is especially -adapted, and in which there is serious reason to believe -she has demonstrated she has advantages over New -England. The demand from Mexico, Central and South -America, will grow into immense proportions as cotton and -its products cheapen under increased supply, and improved -methods of culture and manufacture. The South will be -called upon to furnish the cotton to meet the calls of the -peoples enumerated. That she can easily do so has been -made plain by previous estimate, but it may be added that -hardly three per cent. of the cotton area is now devoted to -cotton, and that on one-tenth of a single Cotton State—Texas—double -the present crop might be raised. Whether -or not she will do this profitably, and without destroying -the happiness and prosperity of her former population, and -building up a land-holding oligarchy, depends on a reform -in her system of credit and her system of planting. The -first is being effected by the introduction of capital that -recognizes farming lands as a safe risk worthy of a low -percentage of interest; the latter must depend on the -intelligence of her people, the force of a few bright examples, -and the wisdom of her leaders. She will be called -upon to supply a large proportion of the manufactured -goods for this new and limitless demand. It has already -been shown that she has felicitous conditions for this -work.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span> - <h2 class='c012'>IN PLAIN BLACK AND WHITE.<a id='r2' /><a href='#f2' class='c038'><sup>[2]</sup></a></h2> -</div> - -<div class='fn'> - -<div class='footnote c007' id='f2'> -<p class='c017'><span class='label'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. </span>Reprinted from The Century, April, 1885.</p> -</div> - -</div> -<hr class='c028' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>A REPLY TO MR. CABLE.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>IT is strange that during the discussion of the negro question, -which has been wide and pertinent, no one has -stood up to speak the mind of the South. In this discussion -there has been much of truth and more of error—something -of perverseness, but more of misapprehension—not a -little of injustice, but perhaps less of mean intention.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Amid it all, the South has been silent.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There has been, perhaps, good reason for this silence. -The problem under debate is a tremendous one. Its right -solution means peace, prosperity, and happiness to the -South. A mistake, even in the temper in which it is -approached or the theory upon which its solution is -attempted, would mean detriment, that at best would be -serious, and might easily be worse. Hence the South has -pondered over this problem, earnestly seeking with all her -might the honest and the safe way out of its entanglements, -and saying little because there was but little to which she -felt safe in committing herself. Indeed, there was another -reason why she did not feel called upon to obtrude her -opinions. The people of the North, proceeding by the right -of victorious arms, had themselves undertaken to settle the -negro question. From the Emancipation Proclamation to -the Civil Rights Bill they hurried with little let or hindrance, -holding the negro in the meanwhile under a sort of -tutelage, from part in which his former masters were practically -excluded. Under this state of things the South had -little to do but watch and learn.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We have now passed fifteen years of experiment. Certain -broad principles have been established as wise and just.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>The South has something to say which she can say with -confidence. There is no longer impropriety in her speaking -or lack of weight in her words. The people of the United -States have, by their suffrages, remitted to the Southern -people, temporarily at least, control of the race question. -The decision of the Supreme Court on the Civil Rights Bill -leaves practically to their adjustment important issues that -were, until that decision was rendered, covered by straight -and severe enactment. These things deepen the responsibility -of the South, increase its concern, and confront it -with a problem to which it must address itself promptly -and frankly. Where it has been silent, it now should -speak. The interest of every American in the honorable -and equitable settlement of this question is second only to -the interest of those specially—and fortunately, we believe—charged -with its adjustment. “What will you do with -it?” is a question any man may now ask the South, and to -which the South should make frank and full reply.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is important that this reply shall be plain and straightforward. -Above all things it must carry the genuine convictions -of the people it represents. On this subject and at -this time the South cannot afford to be misunderstood. -Upon the clear and general apprehension of her position -and of her motives and purpose everything depends. She -cannot let pass unchallenged a single utterance that, spoken -in her name, misstates her case or her intention. It is to -protest against just such injustice that this article is -written.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In a lately printed article, Mr. George W. Cable, writing -in the name of the Southern people, confesses judgment -on points that they still defend, and commits them to a line -of thought from which they must forever dissent. In this -article, as in his works, the singular tenderness and beauty -of which have justly made him famous, Mr. Cable is sentimental -rather than practical. But the reader, enchained -by the picturesque style and misled by the engaging candor -with which the author admits the shortcomings of “We -of the South,” and the kindling enthusiasm with which he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>tells how “We of the South” must make reparation, is apt -to assume that it is really the soul of the South that breathes -through Mr. Cable’s repentant sentences. It is not my purpose -to discuss Mr. Cable’s relations to the people for whom -he claims to speak. Born in the South, of Northern parents, -he appears to have had little sympathy with his Southern -environment, as in 1882 he wrote, “To be in New England -would be enough for me. I was there once,—a year ago,—and -it seemed as if I had never been home till then.” It -will be suggested that a man so out of harmony with his -neighbors as to say, even after he had fought side by side -with them on the battle-field, that he never felt at home -until he had left them, cannot speak understandingly of -their views on so vital a subject as that under discussion. -But it is with his statement rather than his personality that -we have to deal. Does he truly represent the South? We -reply that he does not! There may be here and there in -the South a dreaming theorist who subscribes to Mr. Cable’s -teachings. We have seen no signs of one. Among the -thoughtful men of the South,—the men who felt that all -brave men might quit fighting when General Lee surrendered,—who, -enshrining in their hearts the heroic memories -of the cause they had lost, in good faith accepted the arbitrament -of the sword to which they had appealed,—who -bestirred themselves cheerfully amid the ruins of their -homes, and set about the work of rehabilitation,—who have -patched and mended and builded anew, and fashioned out -of pitiful resource a larger prosperity than they ever knew -before,—who have set their homes on the old red hills, and -staked their honor and prosperity and the peace and well-being -of the children who shall come after them on the clear -and equitable solution of every social, industrial, or political -problem that concerns the South,—among these men, -who control and will continue to control, I do know, there -is general protest against Mr. Cable’s statement of the case, -and universal protest against his suggestions for the future. -The mind of these men I shall attempt to speak, maintaining -my right to speak for them with the pledge that, having -<span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>exceptional means for knowing their views on this subject, -and having spared no pains to keep fully informed -thereof, I shall write down nothing in their name on which -I have found even a fractional difference of opinion.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A careful reading of Mr. Cable’s article discloses the -following argument: The Southern people have deliberately -and persistently evaded the laws forced on them for -the protection of the freedman; this evasion has been the -result of prejudices born of and surviving the institution of -slavery, the only way to remove which is to break down -every distinction between the races; and now the best -thought of the South, alarmed at the withdrawal of the -political machinery that forced the passage of the protective -laws, which withdrawal tempts further and more intolerable -evasions, is moving to forbid all further assortment -of the races and insist on their intermingling in all places -and in all relations. The first part of this argument is a -matter of record, and, from the Southern stand-point, -mainly a matter of reputation. It can bide its time. The -suggestion held in its conclusion is so impossible, so mischievous, -and, in certain aspects, so monstrous, that it must -be met at once.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is hard to think about the negro with exactness. -His helplessness, his generations of enslavement, his unique -position among the peoples of the earth, his distinctive -color, his simple, lovable traits,—all these combine to hasten -opinion into conviction where he is the subject of discussion. -Three times has this tendency brought about epochal results -in his history. First, it abolished slavery. For this all -men are thankful, even those who, because of the personal -injustice and violence of the means by which it was brought -about, opposed its accomplishment. Second, it made him -a voter. This, done more in a sense of reparation than in -judgment, is as final as the other. The North demanded -it; the South expected it; all acquiesced in it, and, wise -or unwise, it will stand. Third, it fixed by enactment his -social and civil rights. And here for the first time the -revolution faltered. Up to this point the way had been -<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>plain, the light clear, and the march at quick-step. Here -the line halted. The way was lost; there was hesitation, -division, and uncertainty. Knowing not which way to -turn, and enveloped in doubt, the revolutionists heard the -retreat sounded by the Supreme Court with small reluctance, -and, to use Mr. Cable’s words, “bewildered by complication, -vexed by many a blunder,” retired from the field. -See, then, the progress of this work. The first step, right -by universal agreement, would stand if the law that made -it were withdrawn. The second step, though irrevocable, -raises doubts as to its wisdom. The third, wrong in purpose, -has failed in execution. It stands denounced as null -by the highest court, as inoperative by general confession, -and as unwise by popular verdict. Let us take advantage -of this halt in the too rapid revolution, and see exactly -where we stand and what is best for us to do. The situation -is critical. The next moment may formulate the work -of the next twenty years. The tremendous forces of the -revolution, unspent and still terrible, are but held in arrest. -Launch them mistakenly, chaos may come. Wrong-headedness -may be as fatal now as wrong-heartedness. Clear -views, clear statement, and clear understanding are the -demands of the hour. Given these, the common sense and -courage of the American people will make the rest easy.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let it be understood in the beginning, then, that the -South will never adopt Mr. Cable’s suggestion of the social -intermingling of the races. It can never be driven into -accepting it. So far from there being a growing sentiment -in the South in favor of the indiscriminate mixing of the -races, the intelligence of both races is moving farther from -that proposition day by day. It is more impossible (if I -may shade a superlative) now than it was ten years ago; it -will be less possible ten years hence. Neither race wants -it. The interest, as the inclination, of both races is against -it. Here the issue with Mr. Cable is made up. He denounces -any assortment of the races as unjust, and demands -that white and black shall intermingle everywhere. The -South replies that the assortment of the races is wise and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>proper, and stands on the platform of equal accommodation -for each race, but separate.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The difference is an essential one. Deplore or defend it -as we may, an antagonism is bred between the races when -they are forced into mixed assemblages. This sinks out of -sight, if not out of existence, when each race moves in its -own sphere. Mr. Cable admits this feeling, but doubts -that it is instinctive. In my opinion it is instinctive—deeper -than prejudice or pride, and bred in the bone and -blood. It would make itself felt even in sections where -popular prejudice runs counter to its manifestation. If in -any town in Wisconsin or Vermont there was equal population -of whites and blacks, and schools, churches, hotels, -and theaters were in common, this instinct would assuredly -develop; the races would separate, and each race would -hasten the separation. Let me give an example that -touches this supposition closely. Bishop Gilbert Haven, of -the Methodist Episcopal Church, many years ago came to -the South earnestly, and honestly, we may believe, devoted -to breaking up the assortment of the races. He was backed -by powerful influences in the North. He was welcomed by -resident Northerners in the South (then in control of -Southern affairs) as an able and eloquent exponent of their -views. His first experiment toward mixing the races was -made in the church—surely the most propitious field. -Here the fraternal influence of religion emphasized his -appeals for the brotherhood of the races. What was the -result? After the first month his church was decimated. -The Northern whites and the Southern blacks left it in -squads. The dividing influences were mutual. The stout -bishop contended with prayer and argument and threat -against the inevitable, but finally succumbed. Two separate -churches were established, and each race worshiped to -itself. There had been no collision, no harsh words, no -discussion even. Each race simply obeyed its instinct, -that spoke above the appeal of the bishop and dominated -the divine influences that pulsed from pew to pew. Time -and again did the bishop force the experiment. Time and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>again he failed. At last he was driven to the confession -that but one thing could effect what he had tried so hard to -bring about, and that was miscegenation. A few years of -experiment would force Mr. Cable to the same conclusion.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The same experiment was tried on a larger scale by the -Methodist Episcopal Church (North) when it established -its churches in the South after the war. It essayed to -bring the races together, and in its conferences and its -churches there was no color line. Prejudice certainly did -not operate to make a division here. On the contrary, the -whites and blacks of this church were knit together by -prejudice, pride, sentiment, political and even social policy. -Underneath all this was a race instinct, obeying which, -silently, they drifted swiftly apart. While white Methodists -of the church North and of the church South, distant -from each other in all but the kinship of race and worship, -were struggling to effect once more a union of the churches -that had been torn apart by a quarrel over slavery, so that -in every white conference and every white church on all -this continent white Methodists could stand in restored -brotherhood, the Methodist Church (North) agreed, without -serious protest, to a separation of its Southern branch -into two conferences of whites and of blacks, and into separate -congregations where the proportion of either race -was considerable. Was it without reason—it certainly was -not through prejudice—that this Church, while seeking -anew fusion with its late enemies, consented to separate -from its new friends?</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was the race instinct that spoke there. It spoke not -with prejudice, but against it. It spoke there as it speaks -always and everywhere—as it has spoken for two thousand -years. And it spoke to the reason of each race. Millaud, in -voting in the French Convention for the beheading of Louis -XVI., said: “If death did not exist, it would be necessary -to-day to invent it.” So of this instinct. It is the pledge of -the integrity of each race, and of peace between the races. -Without it, there might be a breaking down of all lines of -division and a thorough intermingling of whites and blacks. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>This once accomplished, the lower and the weaker elements -of the races would begin to fuse and the process of amalgamation -would have begun. This would mean the disorganization -of society. An internecine war would be precipitated. -The whites, at any cost and at any hazard, -would maintain the clear integrity and dominance of the -Anglo-Saxon blood. They understand perfectly that the -debasement of their own race would not profit the humble -and sincere race with which their lot is cast, and that the -hybrid would not gain what either race lost. Even if the -vigor and the volume of the Anglo-Saxon blood would enable -it to absorb the African current, and after many generations -recover its own strength and purity, not all the -powers of earth could control the unspeakable horrors that -would wait upon the slow process of clarification. Easier -far it would be to take the population of central New -York, intermingle with it an equal percentage of Indians, -and force amalgamation between the two. Let us review -the argument. If Mr. Cable is correct in assuming that -there is no instinct that keeps the two races separate in the -South, then there is no reason for doubting that if intermingled -they would fuse. Mere prejudice would not long -survive perfect equality and social intermingling; and the -prejudice once gone, intermarrying would begin. Then, if -there is a race instinct in either race that resents intimate -association with the other, it would be unwise to force such -association when there are easy and just alternatives. If -there is no such instinct, the mixing of the races would -mean amalgamation, to which the whites will never submit, -and to which neither race should submit. So that in either -case, whether the race feeling is instinct or prejudice, we -come to but one conclusion: The white and black races in -the South must walk apart. Concurrent their courses may -go—ought to go—will go—but separate. If instinct did -not make this plain in a flash, reason would spell it out -letter by letter.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Now, let us see. We hold that there is an instinct, ineradicable -and positive, that will keep the races apart, that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>would keep the races apart if the problem were transferred -to Illinois or to Maine, and that will resist every effort of -appeal, argument, or force to bring them together. We -add in perfect frankness, however, that if no such instinct -existed, or if the South had reasonable doubt of its existence, -it would, by every means in its power, so strengthen -the race prejudice that it would do the work and hold the -stubbornness and strength of instinct. The question that -confronts us at this point is: Admitted this instinct, that -gathers each race to itself. Then, do you believe it possible -to carry forward on the same soil and under the same -laws two races equally free, practically equal in numbers, -and yet entirely distinct and separate? This is a momentous -question. It involves a problem that, all things considered, -is without a precedent or parallel. Can the South -carry this problem in honor and in peace to an equitable -solution? We reply that for ten years the South has been -doing this very thing, and with at least apparent success. -No impartial and observant man can say that in the -present aspect of things there is cause for alarm, or -even for doubt. In the experience of the past few -years there is assuredly reason for encouragement. -There may be those who discern danger in the distant -future. We do not. Beyond the apprehensions -which must for a long time attend a matter so serious, we -see nothing but cause for congratulation. In the common -sense and the sincerity of the negro, no less than in the intelligence -and earnestness of the whites, we find the problem -simplifying. So far from the future bringing trouble, -we feel confident that another decade or so, confirming -the experience of the past ten years, will furnish the solution -to be accepted of all men.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let us examine briefly what the South has been doing, -and study the attitude of the races toward each other. -Let us do this, not so much to vindicate the past as to clear -the way for the future. Let us see what the situation -teaches. There must be in the experience of fifteen years -something definite and suggestive. We begin with the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>schools and school management, as the basis of the -rest.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Every Southern State has a common-school system, and -in every State separate schools are provided for the races. -Almost every city of more than five thousand inhabitants -has a public-school system, and in every city the schools for -whites and blacks are separate. There is no exception to -this rule that I can find. In many cases the law creating -this system requires that separate schools shall be provided -for the races. This plan works admirably. There is no -friction in the administration of the schools, and no suspicion -as to the ultimate tendency of the system. The road -to school is clear, and both races walk therein with confidence. -The whites, assured that the school will not be made -the hot-bed of false and pernicious ideas, or the scene of -unwise associations, support the system cordially, and insist -on perfect equality in grade and efficiency. The blacks, -asking no more than this, fill the schools with alert and -eager children. So far from feeling debased by the separate-school -system, they insist that the separation shall be -carried further, and the few white teachers yet presiding -over negro schools supplanted by negro teachers. The -appropriations for public schools are increased year after -year, and free education grows constantly in strength and -popularity. Cities that were afraid to commit themselves -to free-schools while mixed schools were a possibility commenced -building school-houses as soon as separate schools -were assured. In 1870 the late Benjamin H. Hill found his -matchless eloquence unable to carry the suggestion of negro -education into popular tolerance. Ten years later nearly -one million black children attended free-schools, supported -by general taxation. Though the whites pay nineteen-twentieths -of the tax, they insist that the blacks shall share -its advantages equally. The schools for each race are -opened on the same day and closed on the same day. -Neither is run a single day at the expense of the other. -The negroes are satisfied with the situation. I am aware -that some of the Northern teachers of negro high-schools -<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>and universities will controvert this. Touching their -opinion, I have only to say that it can hardly be considered -fair or conservative. Under the forcing influence of social -ostracism, they have reasoned impatiently and have been -helped to conclusions by quick sympathies or resentments. -Driven back upon themselves and hedged in by suspicion -or hostility, their service has become a sort of martyrdom, -which has swiftly stimulated opinion into conviction and -conviction into fanaticism. I read in a late issue of <i>Zion’s -Herald</i> a letter from one of these teachers, who declined, -on the conductor’s request, to leave the car in which she -was riding, and which was set apart exclusively for negroes. -The conductor, therefore, presumed she was a quadroon, -and stated his presumption in answer to the inquiry of a -young negro man who was with her. She says of this:</p> - -<p class='c021'>“Truly, a glad thrill went through my heart—a thrill of pride. -This great autocrat had pronounced me as not only in sympathy, but -also one in blood, with the truest, tenderest, and noblest race that -dwells on earth.”</p> - -<p class='c023'>If this quotation, which is now before me, over the -writer’s name, suggests that she and those of her colleagues -who agree with her have narrowed within their narrowing -environment, and acquired artificial enthusiasm under their -unnatural conditions, so that they must be unsafe as advisers -and unfair as witnesses, the sole purpose for which it -is introduced will have been served. This suggestion does -not reach all Northern teachers of negro schools. Some -have taken broader counsels, awakened wider sympathies, -and, as a natural result, hold more moderate views. The -influence of the extremer faction is steadily diminishing. -Set apart, as small and curious communities are set here -and there in populous States, stubborn and stiff for a while, -but overwhelmed at last and lost in the mingling currents, -these dissenting spots will be ere long blotted out and forgotten. -The educational problem, which is their special -care, has already been settled, and the settlement accepted -with a heartiness that precludes the possibility of its disturbance. -From the stand-point of either race the experiment -<span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>of distinct but equal schools for the white and black -children of the South has demonstrated its wisdom, its -policy, and its justice, if any experiment ever made plain -its wisdom in the hands of finite man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I quote on this subject Gustavus J. Orr, one of the -wisest and best of men, and lately elected, by spontaneous -movement, president of the National Educational Association. -He says: “The race question in the schools is -already settled. We give the negroes equal advantages, -but separate schools. This plan meets the reason and satisfies -the instinct of both races. Under it we have spent -over five million dollars in Georgia, and the system grows -in strength constantly.” I asked if the negroes wanted -mixed schools. His reply was prompt: “They do not. I -have questioned them carefully on this point, and they -make but one reply: “They want their children in their own -schools and under their own teachers.” I asked what -would be the effect of mixed schools. “I could not maintain -the Georgia system one year. Both races would protest -against it. My record as a public-school man is known. -I have devoted my life to the work of education. But I -am so sure of the evils that would come from mixed schools -that, even if they were possible, I would see the whole -educational system swept away before I would see them -established. There is an instinct that gathers each race -about itself. It is as strong in the blacks as in the whites, -though it has not asserted itself so strongly. It is making -itself manifest, since the blacks are organizing a social system -of their own. It has long controlled them in their -churches, and it is now doing so in their schools.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>In churches, as in schools, the separation is perfect. -The negroes, in all denominations in which their membership -is an appreciable percentage of the whole, have their -own churches, congregations, pastors, conferences, bishops, -and their own missionaries. There is not the slightest -antagonism between them and the white churches of the -same denomination. On the contrary, there is sympathetic -interest and the utmost friendliness. The separation -<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>is recognized as not only instinctive but wise. There is no -disposition to disturb it, and least of all on the part of the -negro. The church is with him the center of social life, -and there he wants to find his own people and no others. -Let me quote just here a few sentences from a speech -delivered by a genuine black negro at the General Conference -of the Methodist Episcopal Church (South), in Atlanta, -Georgia, in 1880. He is himself a pastor of the African -Methodist Church, and came as a fraternal delegate. This -extract from a speech, largely extempore, is a fair specimen -of negro eloquence, as it is a fair evidence of the feeling of -that people toward their white neighbors. He said:</p> - -<p class='c021'>“Mr. Chairman, Bishops, and Brethren in Christ: Let me here -state a circumstance which has just now occurred. When in the -vestry, there we were consulting your committee, among whom is -your illustrious Christian Governor, the Honorable A. H. Colquitt -[applause], feeling an unusual thirst, and expecting in a few moments -to appear before you, thoughtlessly I asked him if there was water to -drink. He, looking about the room, answered, ‘There is none; I will -get you some.’ I insisted not; but presently it was brought by a -brother minister, and handed me by the Governor. I said: ‘Governor, -you must allow me to deny myself this distinguished favor, as it recalls -so vividly the episode of the warrior king of Israel, when, with parched -lips, he cried from the rocky cave of Adullam, ‘Oh! that one would -give me drink of water of the well of Bethlehem that is at the gate.’ -And when three of his valiant captains broke through the host of the -enemy, and returned to him with the water for which his soul was -longing, regarding it as the water of life, he would not drink it, but -poured it out to the Lord.’ [Applause.] So may this transcendent -emblem of purity and love, from the hand of your most honored -co-laborer and friend of the human race, ever remain as a memorial -unto the Lord of the friendship existing between the Methodist Episcopal -Church South and the African Methodist Episcopal Church upon -this the first exchange of formal fraternal greeting. [Applause.]</p> - -<p class='c022'>“In the name of the African Methodist Episcopal Church,—and -I declare the true sentiments of thousands,—I say, that for your Church -and your race we cherish the kindliest feelings that ever found a lodgment -in the human breast. [Applause.] Of this you need not be told. -Let speak your former missionaries among us, who now hold seats -upon this floor, and whose hearts have so often burned within them as -they have seen the word sown by them in such humble soil burst forth -into abundant prosperity. Ask the hundred thousand of your laymen -<span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>who still survive the dead, how we conducted ourselves as tillers of the -soil, as servants about the dwelling, and as common worshipers in the -temple of God! Ask your battle-scarred veterans, who left their all to -the mercy of relentless circumstances, and went, in answer to the -clarion call of the trumpet, to the gigantic and unnatural strife of the -second revolution! Ask them who looked at their interests at home -[great cheering]; who raised their earthworks upon the field; who -buried the young hero so far away from his home, or returned his -ashes to the stricken hearts which hung breathless upon the hour; -who protected their wives and little ones from the ravages of wild -beasts, and the worse ravages of famine! And the answer is returned -from a million heaving bosoms, as a monument of everlasting remembrance -to the benevolence of the colored race in America. [Immense -applause.] And these are they who greet you to-day, through their -chief organization, the African Methodist Episcopal Church in the -United States of America. [Loud and continued applause.]</p> - -<p class='c022'>“And now, though the yoke which bound the master and the slave -together in such close and mutual responsibility has been shivered by -the rude shock of war, we find ourselves still standing by your side as -natural allies against an unfriendly world.” [Applause.]</p> - -<p class='c023'>In their social institutions, as in their churches and -schools, the negroes have obeyed their instinct and kept -apart from the whites. They have their own social and -benevolent societies, their own military companies, their -own orders of Masons and Odd Fellows. They rally about -these organizations with the greatest enthusiasm and support -them with the greatest liberality. If it were proposed -to merge them with white organizations of the same character, -with equal rights guaranteed in all, the negroes -would interpose the stoutest objection. Their tastes, associations, -and inclinations—their instincts—lead them to -gather their race about social centers of its own. I am -tempted into trying to explain here what I have never yet -seen a stranger to the South able to understand. The feeling -that, by mutual action, separates whites and blacks -when they are thrown together in social intercourse is not -a repellent influence in the harsh sense of that word. It is -centripetal rather than centrifugal. It is attractive about -separate centers rather than expulsive from a common center. -There is no antagonism, for example, between white -<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>and black military companies. On occasions they parade -in the same street, and have none of the feeling that exists -between Orangemen and Catholics. Of course the good -sense of each race and the mutual recognition of the possible -dangers of the situation have much to do with maintaining -the good-will between the distinct races. The fact -that in his own church or society the negro has more freedom, -more chance for leadership and for individual development, -than he could have in association with the whites, -has more to do with it. But beyond all this is the fact -that, in the segregation of the races, blacks as well as -whites obey a natural instinct, which, always granting that -they get equal justice and equal advantages, they obey -without the slightest ill-nature or without any sense of -disgrace. They meet the white people in all the avenues -of business. They work side by side with the white bricklayer -or carpenter in perfect accord and friendliness. -When the trowel or the hammer is laid aside, the laborers -part, each going his own way. Any attempt to carry the -comradeship of the day into private life would be sternly -resisted by both parties in interest.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We have seen that in churches, schools, and social organizations -the whites and blacks are moving along separately -but harmoniously, and that the “assortment of the races,” -which has been described as shameful and unjust, is in -most part made by the instinct of each race, and commands -the hearty assent of both. Let us now consider the question -of public carriers. On this point the South has been -sharply criticised, and not always without reason. It is -manifestly wrong to make a negro pay as much for a railroad -ticket as a white man pays, and then force him to -accept inferior accommodations. It is equally wrong to -force a decent negro into an indecent car, when there is -room for him or for her elsewhere. Public sentiment in -the South has long recognized this, and has persistently -demanded that the railroad managers should provide -cars for the negroes equal in every respect to those -set apart for the whites, and that these cars should -<span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>be kept clean and orderly. In Georgia a State law -requires all public roads or carriers to provide equal accommodation -for each race, and failure to do so is made a -penal offense. In Tennessee a negro woman lately gained -damages by proving that she had been forced to take -inferior accommodation on a train. The railroads have, -with few exceptions, come up to the requirements of the -law. Where they fail, they quickly feel the weight of -public opinion, and shock the sense of public justice. This -very discussion, I am bound to say, will lessen such failures -in the future. On four roads, in my knowledge, even -better has been done than the law requires. The car set -apart for the negroes is made exclusive. No whites are -permitted to occupy it. A white man who strays into this -car is politely told that it is reserved for the negroes. He -has the information repeated two or three times, smiles, -and retreats. This rule works admirably and will win general -favor. There are a few roads that make no separate -provision for the races, but announce that any passenger -can ride on any car. Here the “assortment” of the races -is done away with, and here it is that most of the outrages -of which we hear occur. On these roads the negro has no -place set apart for him. As a rule, he is shy about asserting -himself, and he usually finds himself in the meanest -corners of the train. If he forces himself into the ladies’ -car, he is apt to provoke a collision. It is on just one of -these trains where the assortment of the passengers is left -to chance that a respectable negro woman is apt to -be forced to ride in a car crowded with negro convicts. -Such a thing would be impossible where the issue is fairly -met, and a car, clean, orderly, and exclusive, is provided -for each race. The case could not be met by grading the -tickets and the accommodations. Such a plan would bring -together in the second or third class car just the element of -both races between whom prejudice runs highest, and from -whom the least of tact or restraint might be expected. On -the railroads, as elsewhere, the solution of the race problem -is, equal advantages for the same money,—equal in -comfort, safety, and exclusiveness,—but separate.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>There remains but one thing further to consider—the -negro in the jury-box. It is assumed generally that the -negro has no representation in the courts. This is a false -assumption. In the United States courts he usually makes -more than half the jury. As to the State courts, I can -speak particularly as to Georgia. I assume that she does not -materially differ from the other States. In Georgia the law -requires that commissioners shall prepare the jury-list for -each county by selection from the upright, intelligent, and -experienced citizens of the county. This provision was put -into the Constitution by the negro convention of reconstruction -days. Under its terms no reasonable man would -have expected to see the list made up of equal percentage -of the races. Indeed, the fewest number of negroes were -qualified under the law. Consequently, but few appeared -on the lists. The number, as was to be expected, is steadily -increasing. In Fulton County there are seventy-four -negroes whose names are on the lists, and the commissioners, -I am informed, have about doubled this number for -the present year. These negroes make good jurymen, and -are rarely struck by attorneys, no matter what the client -or cause may be. About the worst that can be charged -against the jury system in Georgia is that the commissioners -have made jurors of negroes only when they had qualified -themselves to intelligently discharge a juror’s duties. -In few quarters of the South, however, is the negro unable -to get full and exact justice in the courts, whether the jury -be white or black. Immediately after the war, when there -was general alarm and irritation, there may have been -undue severity in sentences and extreme rigor of prosecution. -But the charge that the people of the South have, in -their deliberate and later moments prostituted justice to -the oppression of this dependent people, is as false as it is -infamous. There is abundant belief that the very helplessness -of the negro in court has touched the heart and conscience -of many a jury, when the facts should have held them -impervious. In the city in which this is written, a negro, -at midnight, on an unfrequented street, murdered a popular -<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>young fellow, over whose grave a monument was placed -by popular subscription. The only witnesses of the killing -were the friends of the murdered boy. Had the murderer -been a white man, it is believed he would have been convicted. -He was acquitted by the white jury, and has since -been convicted of a murderous assault on a person of his -own color. Similarly, a young white man, belonging to -one of the leading families of the State, was hanged for the -murder of a negro. Insanity was pleaded in his defense, -and so plausibly that it is believed he would have escaped -had his victim been a white man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I quote on this point Mr. Benjamin H. Hill, who has -been prosecuting attorney of the Atlanta, Ga., circuit for -twelve years. He says: “In cities and towns the negro -gets equal and exact justice before the courts. It is possible -that, in remote counties, where the question is one of a -fight between a white man and a negro, there may be a lingering -prejudice that causes occasional injustice. The -judge, however, may be relied on to correct this. As to -negro jurors, I have never known a negro to allow his -lawyer to accept a negro juror. For the State I have -accepted a black juror fifty times, to have him rejected by -the opposing lawyer by order of his negro client. This has -incurred so invariably that I have accepted it as a rule. -Irrespective of that, the negro gets justice in the courts, -and the last remaining prejudice against him in the jury-box -has passed away. I convicted a white man for voluntary -manslaughter under peculiar circumstances. A negro -met him on the street and cursed him. The white man -ordered him off and started home. The negro followed -him to his house and cursed him until he entered the door. -When he came out, the negro was still waiting. He -renewed the abuse, followed him to his store, and there -struck him with his fist. In the struggle that followed, -the negro was shot and killed. The jury promptly convicted -the slayer.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>So much for the relation between the races in the South, -in churches, schools, social organizations, on the railroad, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>and in theaters. Everything is placed on the basis of equal -accommodations, but separate. In the courts the blacks -are admitted to the jury-box as they lift themselves into -the limit of qualification. Mistakes have been made and -injustice has been worked here and there. This was to -have been expected, and it has been less than might have -been expected. But there can be no mistake about the -progress the South is making in the equitable adjustment -of the relations between the races. Ten years ago nothing -was settled. There were frequent collisions and constant -apprehensions. The whites were suspicious and the blacks -were restless. So simple a thing as a negro taking an -hour’s ride on the cars, or going to see a play, was fraught -with possible danger. The larger affairs—school, church, -and court—were held in abeyance. Now all this is -changed. The era of doubt and mistrust is succeeded by -the era of confidence and good-will. The races meet in the -exchange of labor in perfect amity and understanding. -Together they carry on the concerns of the day, knowing -little or nothing of the fierce hostility that divides labor -and capital in other sections. When they turn to social -life they separate. Each race obeys its instinct and congregates -about its own centers. At the theater they sit in -opposite sections of the same gallery. On the trains they -ride each in his own car. Each worships in his own -church, and educates his children in his schools. Each has -his place and fills it, and is satisfied. Each gets the same -accommodation for the same money. There is no collision. -There is no irritation or suspicion. Nowhere on earth is there -kindlier feeling, closer sympathy, or less friction between -two classes of society than between the whites and blacks -of the South to-day. This is due to the fact that in the -adjustment of their relations they have been practical and -sensible. They have wisely recognized what was essential, -and have not sought to change what was unchangeable. -They have yielded neither to the fanatic nor demagogue, -refusing to be misled by the one or misused by the -other. While the world has been clamoring over their differences -<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>they have been quietly taking counsel with each -other, in the field, the shop, the street and cabin, and settling -things for themselves. That the result has not astonished -the world in the speediness and the facility with -which it has been reached, and the beneficence that has -come with it, is due to the fact that the result has not been -freely proclaimed. It has been a deplorable condition of -our politics that the North has been misinformed as to the -true condition of things in the South. Political greed and -passion conjured pestilential mists to becloud what the -lifting smoke of battle left clear. It has exaggerated where -there was a grain of fact, and invented where there was -none. It has sought to establish the most casual occurrences -as the settled habit of the section, and has sprung -endless jeremiades from one single disorder, as Jenkins filled -the courts of Christendom with lamentations over his dissevered -ear. These misrepresentations will pass away with -the occasion that provoked them, and when the truth is -known it will come with the force of a revelation to vindicate -those who have bespoken for the South a fair trial, -and to confound those who have borne false witness -against her.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One thing further need be said, in perfect frankness. -The South must be allowed to settle the social relations of -the races according to her own views of what is right and -best. There has never been a moment when she could have -submitted to have the social status of her citizens fixed by -an outside power. She accepted the emancipation and the -enfranchisement of her slaves as the legitimate results of -war that had been fought to a conclusion. These once -accomplished, nothing more was possible. “Thus far and -no farther,” she said to her neighbors, in no spirit of defiance, -but with quiet determination. In her weakest -moments, when her helpless people were hedged about by -the unthinking bayonets of her conquerors, she gathered -them for resistance at this point. Here she defended -everything that a people should hold dear. There was -little proclamation of her purpose. Barely did the whispered -<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>word that bespoke her resolution catch the listening -ears of her sons; but for all this the victorious armies -of the North, had they been rallied again from their homes, -could not have enforced and maintained among this disarmed -people the policy indicated in the Civil Rights bill. -Had she found herself unable to defend her social integrity -against the arms that were invincible on the fields where -she staked the sovereignty of her States, her people would -have abandoned their homes and betaken themselves into -exile. Now, as then, the South is determined that, come -what may, she must control the social relations of the two -races whose lots are cast within her limits. It is right that -she should have this control. The problem is hers, whether -or not of her seeking, and her very existence depends on -its proper solution. Her responsibility is greater, her -knowledge of the case more thorough than that of others -can be. The question touches her at every point; it -presses on her from every side; it commands her constant -attention. Every consideration of policy, of honor, of -pride, of common sense impels her to the exactest justice -and the fullest equity. She lacks the ignorance or misapprehension -that might lead others into mistakes; all others -lack the appalling alternative that, all else failing, would -force her to use her knowledge wisely. For these reasons -she has reserved to herself the right to settle the still -unsettled element of the race problem, and this right she -can never yield.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As a matter of course, this implies the clear and unmistakable -domination of the white race in the South. The -assertion of that is simply the assertion of the right of -character, intelligence and property to rule. It is simply -saying that the responsible and steadfast element in the -community shall control, rather than the irresponsible and -the migratory. It is the reassertion of the moral power -that overthrew the scandalous reconstruction governments, -even though, to the shame of the Republic be it said, they -were supported by the bayonets of the General Government. -Even the race issue is lost at this point. If the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>blacks of the South wore white skins, and were leagued -together in the same ignorance and irresponsibility under -any other distinctive mark than their color, they would -progress not one step farther toward the control of affairs. -Or if they were transported as they are to Ohio, and there -placed in numerical majority of two to one, they would -find the white minority there asserting and maintaining -control, with less patience, perhaps, than many a Southern -State has shown. Everywhere, with such temporary -exceptions as afford demonstration of the rule, intelligence, -character, and property will dominate in spite of -numerical differences. These qualities are lodged with the -white race in the South, and will assuredly remain there -for many generations at least; so that the white race will -continue to dominate the colored, even if the percentages -of race increase deduced from the comparison of a lame -census with a perfect one, and the omission of other considerations, -should hold good and the present race majority -be reversed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let no one imagine, from what is here said, that the -South is careless of the opinion or regardless of the counsel -of the outside world. On the contrary, while maintaining -firmly a position she believes to be essential, she appreciates -heartily the value of general sympathy and confidence. -With an earnestness that is little less than pathetic she -bespeaks the patience and the impartial judgment of all -concerned. Surely her situation should command this -rather than indifference or antagonism. In poverty and -defeat,—with her cities destroyed, her fields desolated, her -labor disorganized, her homes in ruins, her families scattered, -and the ranks of her sons decimated,—in the face of -universal prejudice, fanned by the storm of war into hostility -and hatred—under the shadow of this sorrow and -this disadvantage, she turned bravely to confront a problem -that would have taxed to the utmost every resource of -a rich and powerful and victorious people. Every inch of -her progress has been beset with sore difficulties; and if -the way is now clearing, it only reveals more clearly the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>tremendous import of the work to which her hands are -given. It must be understood that she desires to silence -no criticism, evade no issue, and lessen no responsibility. -She recognizes that the negro is here to stay. She knows -that her honor, her dear name, and her fame, no less than -her prosperity, will be measured by the fulness of the justice -she gives and guarantees to this kindly and dependent -race. She knows that every mistake made and every error -fallen into, no matter how innocently, endanger her peace -and her reputation. In this full knowledge she accepts -the issue without fear or evasion. She says, not boldly, -but conscious of the honesty and the wisdom of her convictions: -“Leave this problem to my working out. I will -solve it in calmness and deliberation, without passion or -prejudice, and with full regard for the unspeakable equities -it holds. Judge me rigidly, but judge me by my -works.” And with the South the matter may be left—must -be left. There it can be left with the fullest confidence -that the honor of the Republic will be maintained, -the rights of humanity guarded, and the problem worked -out in such exact justice as the finite mind can measure or -finite agencies administer.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span> - <h2 class='c012'>THE LITTLE BOY IN THE BALCONY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>MY special amusement in New York is riding on the -elevated railway. It is curious to note how little -one can see on the crowded sidewalks of this city. It is -simply a rush of the same people—hurrying this way or -that on the same errands—doing the same shopping or eating -at the same restaurants. It is a kaleidoscope with -infinite combinations but the same effects. You see it to-day, -and it is the same as yesterday. Occasionally in the -multitude you hit upon a <i>genre</i> specimen, or an odd -detail, such as a prim little dog that sits upright all day -and holds in its mouth a cup for pennies for its blind master, -or an old bookseller with a grand head and the deliberate -motions of a scholar moldering in a stall—but the -general effect is one of sameness and soon tires and -bewilders.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Once on the elevated road, however, a new world is -opened, full of the most interesting objects. The cars -sweep by the upper stories of the houses, and, running -never too swiftly to allow observation, disclose the secrets -of a thousand homes, and bring to view people and things -never dreamed of by the giddy, restless crowd that sends -its impatient murmur from the streets below. In a course -of several months’ pretty steady riding from Twenty-third -Street, which is the station for the Fifth Avenue Hotel, to -Rector, which overlooks Wall Street, I have made many -acquaintances along the route—and on reaching the city -my first curiosity is in their behalf.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One of these is a boy about six years of age—akin in -his fragile body and his serious mien, a youngster that is -very precious to one. I first saw this boy on a little balcony -about three feet by four, projecting from the window -of a poverty-stricken fourth floor. He was leaning over -<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>the railing, his white, thoughtful head just clearing the -top, holding a short round stick in his hand. The little -fellow made a pathetic picture, all alone there above the -street, so friendless and desolate, and his pale face came -between me and my business many a time that day. On -going up town that evening just as night was falling, I saw -him still at his place, white and patient and silent. Every -day afterwards I saw him there, always with the short stick -in his hand. Occasionally he would walk around the balcony -rattling the stick in a solemn manner against the railing, -or poke it across from one corner to another and sit on -it. This was the only playing I ever saw him do, and the -stick was the only plaything he had. But he was never -without it. His little hand always held it, and I pictured -him every morning when he awoke from his joyless sleep, -picking up his plaything and going out to his balcony, as -other boys go to play. Or perhaps he slept with it, as -little ones do with dolls and whip-tops.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I could see that the room beyond the window was bare. -I never saw any one in it. The heat must have been terrible, -for it could have had no ventilation. Once I missed the -boy from the balcony, but saw his white head, moving about -slowly in the dusk of the room. Gradually the little fellow -become a burden to me. I found myself continually -thinking of him, and troubled with that remorse that -thoughtless people feel even for suffering for which they -are not in the slightest degree responsible. Not that I ever -saw any suffering on his face. It was patient, thoughtful, -serious, but with never a sign of petulance. What thoughts -filled that young head—what contemplation took the place -of what should have been the ineffable upbringing of childish -emotion—what complaint or questioning were living -behind that white face—no one could guess. In an older -person the face would have betokened a resignation that -found peace in the hope of things hereafter. In this child, -without hope or estimation, it was sad beyond expression.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One day as I passed I nodded at him. He made no -sign in return. I repeated the nod on another trip, waving -<span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>my hand at him—but without avail. At length, in response -to an unusually winning exhortation, his pale lips trembled -into a smile—but a smile that was soberness itself. Wherever -I went that day that smile went with me. Wherever -I saw children playing in the parks, or trotting along with -their hands nestled in strong fingers that guided and protected, -I thought of that tiny watcher in the balcony—joyless, -hopeless, friendless—a desolate mite, hanging between -the blue sky and the gladsome streets—lifting his wistful -face now to the peaceful heights of the one, and now looking -with grave wonder on the ceaseless tumult of the other. -At length—but why go any further? Why is it necessary -to tell that the boy had no father, that his mother was bedridden -from his birth, and that his sister pasted labels in a -drug-house, and he was thus left to himself all day? It is -sufficient to say that I went to Coney Island yesterday, and -forgot the heat in the sharp saline breezes—watched the -bathers and the children—listened to the crisp, lingering -music of the waves as they sang to the beach—ate a robust -lunch on the pier—wandered in and out among the booths, -tents, and hubbub—and that through all these manifold -pleasures, I had a companion that enjoyed them with a -gravity that I can never hope to emulate, but with a soulfulness -that was touching—and that as I came back in the -boat, the breezes singing through the cordage, music floating -from the fore-deck, and the sun lighting with its dying -rays the shipping that covered the river, there was sitting -in front of me a very pale but very happy bit of a boy, -open-eyed with wonder, but sober and self-contained, clasping -tightly in his little fingers a short battered stick. And -finally that whenever I pass by a certain overhanging balcony -now, I am sure of a smile from an intimate and -esteemed friend who lives there.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span><span class='c029'>POEMS</span></div> - <div class='c000'><i>BY VARIOUS HANDS.</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span> - <h2 class='c012'>GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>I.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>SUNS rise and set, stars flash and darken:</div> - <div class='line in4'>To-day I stand alone and hearken</div> - <div class='line in2'>Unto this counsel, old and wise:</div> - <div class='line'>“As shadows still we flee.” The blossom</div> - <div class='line'>May hide the rare fruit in its bosom,</div> - <div class='line in2'>But in the core the canker lies.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>II.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>To-day I stand alone and listen—</div> - <div class='line'>While on my cheek the teardrops glisten</div> - <div class='line in2'>And a strange blindness veils my sight,</div> - <div class='line'>Unto the story of his dying</div> - <div class='line'>And how, in God’s white slumber lying,</div> - <div class='line in2'>His laureled brow is lulled to-night.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>III.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Dear friends, I would not mock your sorrow</div> - <div class='line'>With this poor wreath that ere to-morrow</div> - <div class='line in2'>Shall fade and perish—little worth;</div> - <div class='line'>But from the mountains that lament him,</div> - <div class='line'>And from these vales whose violets lent him</div> - <div class='line in2'>Their fragrance; from around the earth,</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>IV.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Wherever Love hath her dominion,</div> - <div class='line'>Sorrow hath plumed her shadowed pinion</div> - <div class='line in2'>And paid the tribute of her tears;</div> - <div class='line'>And here is mine! In pathways lowly</div> - <div class='line'>This man, whose dust ye count as holy</div> - <div class='line in2'>Met me, a traveller of the years,</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>V.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>And reached his strong right hand—a brother,</div> - <div class='line'>Saying: “Mankind should love each other,”</div> - <div class='line in2'>And so I shared and felt his love;</div> - <div class='line'>And now my heart its grief expresses</div> - <div class='line'>As comes from out lone wildernesses</div> - <div class='line in2'>The sad lamenting of the dove.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>VI.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Yet while I weep States mourn together</div> - <div class='line'>And in the world ’tis rainy weather</div> - <div class='line in2'>And all that bright rain falls for him!</div> - <div class='line'>States mourn, and while their voices fame him</div> - <div class='line'>The fond lips of the lowly name him,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And little children’s eyes grow dim,</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>VII.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>With tender tears, because they love him;</div> - <div class='line'>Their hands strew violets above him:</div> - <div class='line in2'>They lisp his dear name in their dreams.</div> - <div class='line'>And in their sorrows and afflictions</div> - <div class='line'>Old men breathe dying benedictions</div> - <div class='line in2'>Where on his grave the starlight gleams.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>VIII.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>He stood upon the heights, yet never</div> - <div class='line'>So high but that his heart forever</div> - <div class='line in2'>Was by the lowliest accent thrilled;</div> - <div class='line'>He loved his land and sought to save it,</div> - <div class='line'>And in that love he freely gave it</div> - <div class='line in2'>The life Death’s hand hath touched and stilled.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>IX.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Dear, brave, true heart! You fell as falleth</div> - <div class='line'>A star when from far spaces calleth</div> - <div class='line in2'>God’s voice that shakes the trembling spheres;</div> - <div class='line'>Fell! Nay! that voice, like softest lyre,</div> - <div class='line'>Whispered thee in thy dreams: “Come higher,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Above Earth’s sorrows, hopes and fears.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>X.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>I shall not see the dead: Thy living,</div> - <div class='line'>Dear face, the gentle and forgiving;</div> - <div class='line in2'>The kindly eyes compassionate;</div> - <div class='line'>The rare smile of thy lips—each token</div> - <div class='line'>I have of thee must be unbroken—</div> - <div class='line in2'>Death shall not leave them desolate?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>XI.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>O, Christmas skies of blue December,</div> - <div class='line'>This day of earthly days remember—</div> - <div class='line in2'>He loved you, skies! to him your blue</div> - <div class='line'>Was beautiful! O, sunlight gleaming</div> - <div class='line'>Like silver on the rivers streaming</div> - <div class='line in2'>Out to the sea; and mountain’s dew</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>XII.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Bespangled—and ye velvet valleys,</div> - <div class='line'>Green-bosomed, where the south winds dallies—</div> - <div class='line in2'>He loved you! And ye birds that sing—</div> - <div class='line'>Do ye not miss him? Winds that wander,</div> - <div class='line'>How can ye pass him, lying yonder,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Now sigh his dirge with folded wing?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>XIII.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>In dearest dust that ever nourished</div> - <div class='line'>The violets that o’er it flourished,</div> - <div class='line in2'>He lies, your lover and your friend!</div> - <div class='line'>Thy softest beams, sweet sun, will kiss him;</div> - <div class='line'>Sweet, silent valleys, ye will miss him,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Your roses, weeping, o’er him bend.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>XIV.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Good-night—Good-bye! Above our sorrow,</div> - <div class='line'>Comrade! thine is a fair “good-morrow,”</div> - <div class='line in2'>In some far, luminous world of light,</div> - <div class='line'>Yet, take this farewell—Love’s last token:</div> - <div class='line'>We leave thee to thy rest unbroken—</div> - <div class='line in2'>God have thee in his care—Good-night!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'>—<span class='sc'>F. L. Stanton.</span></div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span> - <h2 class='c012'>ATLANTA.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>We weep with Atlanta!</div> - <div class='line'>Her loss is the nation’s!</div> - <div class='line'>With deep lamentations</div> - <div class='line'>Our grief is revealed;</div> - <div class='line'>For her hero so youthful,</div> - <div class='line'>So radiant and truthful,</div> - <div class='line'>Her loyal defender,</div> - <div class='line'>Lies dead on the field.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>We weep with Atlanta!</div> - <div class='line'>O sore her bereavement!</div> - <div class='line'>For he whose achievement</div> - <div class='line'>The continent thrilled,</div> - <div class='line'>His last word has spoken;</div> - <div class='line'>In silence unbroken.</div> - <div class='line'>By Death’s cruel mandate,</div> - <div class='line'>The proud pulse is stilled.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>We weep with Atlanta!</div> - <div class='line'>For woe crowds upon her</div> - <div class='line'>When the soldier of honor</div> - <div class='line'>Death’s countersign gives.</div> - <div class='line'>Keep the grasses above him,</div> - <div class='line'>And let those who love him</div> - <div class='line'>Proclaim beyond doubting</div> - <div class='line'>That the hero still lives.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Josephine Pollard.</span></div> - -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>New York City</span>, <i>Dec. 27, 1889</i>.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span> - <h2 class='c012'>HENRY W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>TRUE-HEARTED friend of all true friendliness!</div> - <div class='line'>Brother of all true brotherhoods!—Thy hand</div> - <div class='line'>And its late pressure now we understand</div> - <div class='line'>Most fully, as it falls thus gestureless,</div> - <div class='line'>And Silence lulls thee into sweet excess</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of sleep. Sleep thou content!—Thy loved Southland.</div> - <div class='line in2'>Is swept with tears, as rain in sunshine; and</div> - <div class='line'>Through all the frozen North our eyes confess</div> - <div class='line in2'>Like sorrow—seeing still the princely sign</div> - <div class='line'>Set on thy lifted brow, and the rapt light</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of the dark, tender, melancholy eyes—</div> - <div class='line'>Thrilled with the music of those lips of thine,</div> - <div class='line'>And yet the fire thereof that lights the night,</div> - <div class='line in2'>With the white splendor of thy prophecies.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>James Whitcombe Riley.</span></div> - -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'>In <i>New York Tribune</i>, December 23, 1889.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span> - <h2 class='c012'>A REQUIEM.</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c007'> - <div><i>IN MEMORY OF “HIM THAT’S AWA’”.</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>BURY him in the sunshine,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Bring forth the rarest flowers</div> - <div class='line'>In love to rest above the breast</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of this dead hope of ours!</div> - <div class='line'>Let not the strife and pain of life</div> - <div class='line in2'>One ray of joy dispel,</div> - <div class='line'>And we’ll bury him in the sunshine,</div> - <div class='line in2'>In the light he loved so well!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Bury him in the sunshine,</div> - <div class='line in2'>All that of earth remains;</div> - <div class='line'>Let every tear that damps his bier</div> - <div class='line in2'>Fall warm as April rains</div> - <div class='line'>That bring to light the blossoms bright,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And break the wintry spell.</div> - <div class='line'>Thus we’ll bury him in the sunshine,</div> - <div class='line in2'>In the light he loved so well!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Bury him in the sunshine,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Where softest breezes blow.</div> - <div class='line'>His dear face brought no dismal thought,</div> - <div class='line in2'>To those who love him so.</div> - <div class='line'>Let cheerful strains and glad refrains</div> - <div class='line in2'>A joyous requiem swell,</div> - <div class='line'>While we bury him in the sunshine,</div> - <div class='line in2'>In the light he loved so well!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Bury him in the sunshine,</div> - <div class='line in2'>While Christmas carols rise</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>In thankful mirth from smiling earth</div> - <div class='line in2'>To fair sun-litten skies.</div> - <div class='line'>Forget the gloom that shrouds the tomb,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And hush the dreary knell,</div> - <div class='line'>For we’ll bury him in the sunshine,</div> - <div class='line in2'>In the light he loved so well!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Bury him in the sunshine;</div> - <div class='line in2'>His peerless soul hath flown</div> - <div class='line'>To that fair land upon whose strand</div> - <div class='line in2'>No winds of winter moan.</div> - <div class='line'>Sublimer heights, purer delights,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Than mortal tongue can tell;</div> - <div class='line'>So, we’ll bury him in God’s sunshine,</div> - <div class='line in2'>In the light he loved so well!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Montgomery M. Folsom.</span></div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span> - <h2 class='c012'>HENRY WOODFIN GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>MUST we concede the life so swiftly flown</div> - <div class='line in5'>That seemed but yesterday to breath our own—</div> - <div class='line'>The pulsing stayed that through our land he sent,</div> - <div class='line'>In whose one impact North and South were blent—</div> - <div class='line'>His cords yet vital stilled with tone abounding,</div> - <div class='line'>His heart-strings sundered by their vibrant sounding?</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Too well we feel the import of our fears—</div> - <div class='line'>The wide-flashed word, “the South is steeped in tears!”</div> - <div class='line'>Fitly she weeps for her chivalric son</div> - <div class='line'>Who turned to her, in flush of triumph won,</div> - <div class='line'>The filial voice to gain her glad applause—</div> - <div class='line'>The golden tongue to plead—to gild her cause.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>That spirit note—the music of his speech,</div> - <div class='line'>Is silenced now in earthly hearing’s reach;</div> - <div class='line'>Snapped is the silvern thread—the resonant soul—</div> - <div class='line'>Though severed still its pæans reverberant roll—</div> - <div class='line'>All hearts their hope-rung—chants in mourning merge,</div> - <div class='line'>All joyous dreams translate into a dirge.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Fallen in hero prime of conscious power</div> - <div class='line'>His fame lives on and soothes her anguished hour,</div> - <div class='line'>Yields to the land of Calhoun and of Clay</div> - <div class='line'>His name as heirloom to her later day,—</div> - <div class='line'>A legacy by life’s oblation left,</div> - <div class='line'>A breathing solace to a home bereft.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>That knightly nature’s gift—that intellect’s grace,</div> - <div class='line'>Relieved attrition wrought by clash of race,</div> - <div class='line'>That reason poised in sympathy supreme,</div> - <div class='line'>Revealed translucent pathos in his theme,</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>Bade clamor cease—taught candor’s part to cure—</div> - <div class='line'>Bade truth appear more true, pure thought more pure.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>But is the zenith reached—his record done,</div> - <div class='line'>His duty closed beneath meridian sun?</div> - <div class='line'>Was it for him like meteor flash to sweep</div> - <div class='line'>Athwart the heavens, as vaulting lightnings leap—</div> - <div class='line'>On living errand our dimmed orbit cleave—</div> - <div class='line'>On mission radiate, yet no message leave?</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Ah, no! his flame rose not to fall anon;</div> - <div class='line'>His words as phrase to glitter and be gone;</div> - <div class='line'>Not evanescent in the minds of men,</div> - <div class='line'>His ling’ring oratory speaks again—</div> - <div class='line'>An era’s nuncio in a Nation’s view,</div> - <div class='line'>An envoy of another South, and new:</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>For now in prescience ’neath his Southern skies</div> - <div class='line'>The grander vision greets our Northern eyes;</div> - <div class='line'>The proud mirage he conjured up we see—</div> - <div class='line'>His picturing of her potency to be,</div> - <div class='line'>Her virile wealth of sun and soil and ore,</div> - <div class='line'>Her new-born Freedom’s force—far nobler store.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>With sectional lines and warring feuds effaced,</div> - <div class='line'>Their racial problems solved—their blots erased—</div> - <div class='line'>Full in that vision circumfused shall rise</div> - <div class='line'>A symbol that his life-rays crystallize,</div> - <div class='line'>For all our state-loves lit in him to stand—</div> - <div class='line'>For bonds that Georgia’s Genius lent to all our land.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Henry O’Meara.</span></div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span> - <h2 class='c012'>HENRY W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>Upon the winds from shores uncharted blown,</div> - <div class='line in4'>That phantom came, stoled in his trailing mists;</div> - <div class='line in2'>He set his cruel gyves upon thy wrists:—</div> - <div class='line in2'>Thine ear was dulled save to his subtle tone:—</div> - <div class='line'>He led thee down where fade the paths unknown</div> - <div class='line in2'>In the deep hollows of the Shadow Land:</div> - <div class='line in2'>Love’s tears,—the tendance of her gentle hand,—</div> - <div class='line in2'>Thou didst remember not: her deepest groan</div> - <div class='line'>Stayed not thy feet—thine eyes were fixed away</div> - <div class='line in2'>Upon the mountains of some other clime!</div> - <div class='line in2'>Among the noblest, gathered from all time,</div> - <div class='line'>In God’s great universe somewhere to-day</div> - <div class='line'>He wanders where the cool all-healing trees</div> - <div class='line'>Uplift their fronds in fair Champs Elysées.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Henry Jerome Stockard.</span></div> -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>Graham, N.C.</span></p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span> - <h2 class='c012'>WHO WOULD CALL HIM BACK?</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>A LIFE-WORK finished: yet, hardly begun:</div> - <div class='line in6'>A course in which courage cowardice undone:</div> - <div class='line'>A leader of battles whose life’s setting sun</div> - <div class='line in18'>Leaves no cause unwon.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>The scholar and statesman, dear to us all,</div> - <div class='line'>As he sleeps his last sleep, though fateful his fall,</div> - <div class='line'>Dreams only of peace—to life’s pain past recall—</div> - <div class='line in18'>That, kindred, is all.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>The robe he wore with such marvelous grace,</div> - <div class='line'>Will be fitted to shoulders made for his place:</div> - <div class='line'>Efforts about which none could selfishness trace</div> - <div class='line in18'>Shall still bless his race.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Deeds he has done in humanity’s name</div> - <div class='line'>Will outlive the marble upreared to his fame:</div> - <div class='line'>Yet, would any one ask him, even through pain,</div> - <div class='line in18'>To live life again?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Belle Eyre.</span></div> -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>Boston, Mass.</span></p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span> - <h2 class='c012'>HENRY W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>LAMENTED Son of Georgia,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Thou wert New England’s honored guest</div> - <div class='line'>In welcome glad, but yesterday,</div> - <div class='line in2'>With charming speech and banquet’s zest.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>In glowing life, so recently,</div> - <div class='line in2'>From Plymouth Rock and Bunker’s Hill,</div> - <div class='line'>Thy vision swept the Pilgrim’s sea,—</div> - <div class='line in2'>But now in death thy heart is still.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>And in thine own dear native clime,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Thou art at rest in early tomb,</div> - <div class='line'>Where brightest skies expand sublime,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And choicest flowers forever bloom.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Thy work ere yet at zenith done,</div> - <div class='line in2'>But harvests, o’er thy fertile field,</div> - <div class='line'>Are waving in the noonday sun,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Like billows, with abundant yield.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Now fallen, but more glorious,</div> - <div class='line in2'>In peaceful triumph grander far</div> - <div class='line'>Than pageant kings victorious,</div> - <div class='line in2'>With bleeding captives, spoils of war.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>O, ye bereaved, in mourning bowed,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Around Atlanta’s noble dead!</div> - <div class='line'>What woe is in your wailing land;</div> - <div class='line in2'>How hallowed is the ground ye tread!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>A joyous home, now desolate,</div> - <div class='line in2'>A circle broken, sad and lone,</div> - <div class='line'>A vacant chair in Sable State,</div> - <div class='line in2'>A husband, father, loved one gone.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>A widowed mother, mute with grief,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Whose weeping children call in vain,</div> - <div class='line'>Their cries and tears bring no relief,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Thou can’st not meet them here again.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>And yet, beyond this hour of gloom,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Athwart the sky, the promised bow,</div> - <div class='line'>Above these clouds, and o’er thy tomb,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The starry heavens are bending low.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>In memory of loving worth,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Sweet thoughts like hidden springs will flow;</div> - <div class='line'>Rare flowers in oasis have birth,</div> - <div class='line in2'>As Sorrow’s deserts verdant grow.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>With patriotic, burning zeal,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Thy brilliant genius, tongue and pen,</div> - <div class='line'>Were wielded for the common weal,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The good of all thy countrymen.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>O’er ruins of the effete Old,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Thou wrought to build a better New,</div> - <div class='line'>Whose peerless glories might unfold,</div> - <div class='line in2'>As North and South together grew.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Thou longed to note accordant band</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of Sister States through future years,</div> - <div class='line'>A Union for the world to stand</div> - <div class='line in2'>With little aid of blood and tears.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Of such a spirit, He who taught</div> - <div class='line in2'>Eternal Truth in Galilee;</div> - <div class='line'>The human and divine in-wrought</div> - <div class='line in2'>With perfect love and charity.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>And so thy deeds will grow in grace,</div> - <div class='line in2'>They are exalted, wise and pure,</div> - <div class='line'>For freedom and the human race,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And in our hearts will long endure.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>For thee nor local, fleeting fame,</div> - <div class='line in2'>But for all nations, space and time;</div> - <div class='line'>Around thy lofty, shining name,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Unfading laurels we entwine.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>G. W. Lyon.</span></div> -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>Cedar Rapids, Iowa</span>, Jan. 18, 1890.</p> -<hr class='c040' /> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c012'>WHAT THE MASTER MADE.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>THE Master made a perfect instrument to sound His praise,</div> - <div class='line in3'>It breathed forth glorious notes for many days,—</div> - <div class='line'>Chords of great strength, tones of soft melody,</div> - <div class='line'>Grand organ anthems—bird-like minstrelsy;</div> - <div class='line'>Its final burst of music—the Master’s master-stroke</div> - <div class='line'>Fell on the world—and then the spent strings broke.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Mel R. Colquitt.</span></div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span> - <h2 class='c012'>IN ATLANTA, CHRISTMAS, 1889.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>I.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>O PROUD Gate City of the South, reborn,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Risen, a phœnix, from war’s fiery flood—</div> - <div class='line'>Why draped in gloom, this precious natal morn</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of Him crowned martyr for earth’s peace and good?</div> - <div class='line'>Set in the faces of your old and young,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Is seen the sorrow, ruthless Fate hath sprung!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>II.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Your prince lies stark amid the stately towers,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Which he, strong leader in a radiant day,</div> - <div class='line'>Had helped to build, when Georgia’s unbound powers</div> - <div class='line in2'>Amazed the world and held majestic sway.</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Grady</span> is gone, like meteor flashing bright</div> - <div class='line in2'>Across the canopy of star-gemmed night!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>III.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Lift him, with gentleness, and bear him hence!</div> - <div class='line in2'>Keep slow, deliberate pace unto the grave</div> - <div class='line'>Which long must be a spot where reverence,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Halting its footsteps, will his laurel wave!</div> - <div class='line'>Impulsive youth, in halls of fierce debate,</div> - <div class='line in2'>His counsels heed, his spirit emulate!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Henry Clay Lukens.</span></div> -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>Jersey City Heights, N. J.</span></p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span> - <h2 class='c012'>IN MEMORY OF HENRY WOODFIN GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “West Shore” Portland, Oregon.</i></div> - <div class='c000'>I.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>AMID the wrecks of private fortunes and</div> - <div class='line in4'>The fall of commonwealths, he saw arise</div> - <div class='line in2'>A stricken people, and, with mournful eyes,</div> - <div class='line'>Beheld the smoke of war bedim their land,</div> - <div class='line'>And in its folds the fragments of a band</div> - <div class='line in2'>Erst bound, as by grim Fate, to exercise</div> - <div class='line in2'>Their judgments in the wrong and sacrifice</div> - <div class='line'>Against the measures Providence had planned.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Unconquered still, he saw the Southern folk,</div> - <div class='line'>Though awed and vanquished by the deadly jar</div> - <div class='line'>Of war’s deep thunder belching forth, “Ye must!”</div> - <div class='line'>In love this Master sought to lift the yoke</div> - <div class='line'>Of ignorance from the Southland, and to star</div> - <div class='line'>Its night with those same stars trailed in its dust!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c000'> - <div>II.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Unto the North he, as a brother, came,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And in his heart the great warm South he brought,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And as he stood and oped his mouth he wrought</div> - <div class='line'>The miracle of setting hearts aflame,</div> - <div class='line'>That leaped to crown him orator of fame,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Since in his own emboldened hand he’d caught</div> - <div class='line in2'>The golden chain of love, by many sought,</div> - <div class='line'>To bind our Union something more than name.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>But hark! The while his eloquence did charm</div> - <div class='line'>The Nation’s ear, the lightnings flashed along</div> - <div class='line'>The wires the weeping news, “<i>He is no more!</i>”</div> - <div class='line'>Brave seer! Thou didst both North and South disarm!</div> - <div class='line'>Leap, lightnings, from your wires, the clouds among,</div> - <div class='line'>And flash his eulogy the heavens o’er!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Lee Fairchild.</span></div> -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>Seattle</span>, <i>January 14, 1890</i>.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span> - <h2 class='c012'><em class='gesperrt'>A SOUTHERN CHRISTMAS DAY</em>.</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c007'> - <div><span class='c033'><i>Paraphrased from Henry W. Grady’s Editorial.</i></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc in2dc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>NO man or woman living now</div> - <div class='line in4'>Shall e’er again behold</div> - <div class='line in2'>A Christmas day so royal clad,</div> - <div class='line in4'>In robes of purpled gold,</div> - <div class='line in4'>As yesterday sank down to rest,</div> - <div class='line'>In perfect, rounded triumph in the West.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in2'>A winter day it was—yet shot</div> - <div class='line in4'>With sunshine to the core—</div> - <div class='line in2'>Enchantment’s spell filled all the scene</div> - <div class='line in4'>With power unknown before—</div> - <div class='line in4'>And he who walked abroad could feel</div> - <div class='line'>Its subtle mast’ry o’er him softly steal.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in2'>Its beauty prodigal he saw—</div> - <div class='line in4'>He breathed elixir pure—</div> - <div class='line in2'>Twas bliss to strive with reaching hand</div> - <div class='line in4'>Its rapture to secure,</div> - <div class='line in4'>And bathe with open fingers where</div> - <div class='line'>The waves of warmth and freshness pulsed the air.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in2'>The hum of bees but underrode</div> - <div class='line in4'>The whistling wings outspread</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of wild geese, flying through the sky,</div> - <div class='line in4'>As Southwardly they sped—</div> - <div class='line in4'>While embered pale, in drowsy grates,</div> - <div class='line'>The fires slept lightly, as when life abates.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in2'><span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>And people, marveling, out of doors,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Watched in sweet amaze</div> - <div class='line in2'>The soft winds’ wooing of delight,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Upon this day of days—</div> - <div class='line in4'>Their wooing of the roses fair—</div> - <div class='line'>Their kissing lilies, with a lover’s air.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in2'>God’s benediction, with the day,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Slow dropping from the skies,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Came down the waiting earth to bless,</div> - <div class='line in4'>And give it glad surprise—</div> - <div class='line in4'>His smile, its light—a radiant flood,</div> - <div class='line'>That upward bore the prayer of gratitude.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in2'>And through and through its stillness all—</div> - <div class='line in4'>And through its beauty too—</div> - <div class='line in2'>To every heart came mute appeal,</div> - <div class='line in4'>To live a life more true—</div> - <div class='line in4'>And every soul invoking then,</div> - <div class='line'>With promise—“Peace on earth—good will to men.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>N.C. Thompson.</span></div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span> - <h2 class='c012'>IN MEMORY OF HENRY W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>SHALL we not mourn for those who pass</div> - <div class='line in3'>Like meteors from the midnight sky,</div> - <div class='line'>From out the gleaming heights of fame,</div> - <div class='line in2'>As those who for their country die?</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Who die, and sleep in dreamless slumber,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Where sunbeams like a blessing shed</div> - <div class='line'>Their glories, and the rain-drops, falling,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Weep ever o’er our Southern dead.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Of silvery tongue, and heart of fire,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And grace of manhood, what is left?</div> - <div class='line'>A voiceless grief—a tear—a sigh,</div> - <div class='line in2'>A nation of her son bereft.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Great soul with eloquence o’erflowing,</div> - <div class='line in2'>In rhythmic measures sweet and grand,</div> - <div class='line'>Great heart whose mission was a message</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of peace and good will, thro’ the land.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>O tongue of flame by truth inspired!</div> - <div class='line in2'>Tho’ thou art silent, and we never</div> - <div class='line'>May hear again thy stirring strains,</div> - <div class='line in2'>They’ll echo in our halls forever.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Thy life was like a rushing river,</div> - <div class='line in2'>That proudly bore upon its breast</div> - <div class='line'>Our highest hopes unto a haven,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Where heroes dwell, and patriots rest.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>Sleep well! tho’ thou art gone, the grave</div> - <div class='line in2'>Holds but the outward earthly shrine,</div> - <div class='line'>That held within its clay-cold breast</div> - <div class='line in2'>The sacred spark of life divine.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Sleep well! immortal, unforgotten,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Where buds and blossoms round thee blow,</div> - <div class='line'>And the soft fires of Southern sunsets</div> - <div class='line in2'>In glory gild thy couch below.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Elizabeth J. Hereford.</span></div> -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>Dallas, Texas.</span></p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span> - <h2 class='c012'>HENRY W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>IF Death had waited till the grateful Land</div> - <div class='line in3'>He championed with his life had bent and crowned,</div> - <div class='line'>With a proud, civic garland of command</div> - <div class='line in2'>That knightly brow, with laurels freshly bound!</div> - <div class='line'>Yet he cared not for crowds—this wrestler strong;</div> - <div class='line in2'>If down the arena swept some warm, wild breath</div> - <div class='line'>Of his People’s praise—this bore his soul along,</div> - <div class='line in2'>This came with sweetness in the midst of death,</div> - <div class='line in2'>For love was more to him than crown or wreath.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in2'>Ah! half her Sun is stricken from the South,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Since he is dead—her tropic-hearted one,—</div> - <div class='line'>Will the pomegranate flower’s vivid mouth</div> - <div class='line in2'>Open to drink the dews when Frost is done?</div> - <div class='line'>Will the gay red-bird flash like winged flame,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The mocking-bird awake its thrilling lyre?</div> - <div class='line'>Will Spring and Song—will Love ev’n seem the same,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Now he is gone—the spirit whose light and fire</div> - <div class='line'>And pulsing sweetness were like Spring to make,</div> - <div class='line'>The gray earth young?—will Light and Love awake,</div> - <div class='line'>And he still sleep?—and we weep for his sake!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Mary E. Bryan.</span></div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span> - <h2 class='c012'>THE OLD AND THE NEW.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>NOT to the beauteous maid who weeps</div> - <div class='line in5'>And wails in broken numbers,</div> - <div class='line'>Where ’neath the solemn cypress sleeps</div> - <div class='line in2'>The brave in dreamless slumbers.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Oh, not to her whose pallid cheeks</div> - <div class='line in2'>With form all bent and broken</div> - <div class='line'>An utter loss of promise speaks</div> - <div class='line in2'>And perished hopes betoken.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Ah, not to her!—the sorrowing maid</div> - <div class='line in2'>Who sighs so sad and lowly,</div> - <div class='line'>Where our “Lost Cause and Cross” were laid,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Keeping their memories holy.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Ah, not to her whose sons have passed</div> - <div class='line in2'>To rest in peace sedately,</div> - <div class='line'>To glory and the grave at last,</div> - <div class='line in2'>In soldier phalanx stately;</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>That sleep beneath the mountain sod</div> - <div class='line in2'>Or by the murmuring rivers,</div> - <div class='line'>Beneath the blooming prairie clod</div> - <div class='line in2'>Or where the sea breeze quivers.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>The past is God’s, the future ours,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And o’er our plains and mountains</div> - <div class='line'>The young spring comes with thousand flowers</div> - <div class='line in2'>And music in bright fountains.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>Oh, let the bugle and the drum</div> - <div class='line in2'>Pass to the halls of glory,</div> - <div class='line'>Where time has made our passions dumb</div> - <div class='line in2'>And fame has told its story.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>But let no High Priest of despair</div> - <div class='line in2'>Wed us to shades of sorrow,</div> - <div class='line'>Or bind our younger limbs and fair</div> - <div class='line in2'>In all our bright to-morrow.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Oh, not for her our younger years</div> - <div class='line in2'>Whose beauty bloomed to perish—</div> - <div class='line'>Enough a whole decade of tears,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Sad memories that we cherish.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>But thou, sweet maid, whose gentle wand</div> - <div class='line in2'>Doth bring the May-time blossom—</div> - <div class='line'>We kiss thy lips and clasp thy hand</div> - <div class='line in2'>And press thy beauteous bosom.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Thou who dost teach us to forgive</div> - <div class='line in2'>The red hand of our brother,</div> - <div class='line'>And binds us closer while we live</div> - <div class='line in2'>To Country, as a mother.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Ah, wedded to this Newer South</div> - <div class='line in2'>We’ll find peace, love and glory,</div> - <div class='line'>And in some future singer’s mouth</div> - <div class='line in2'>Freedom will boast the story.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>J. M. Gibson.</span></div> -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>Vicksburg</span>, <i>January 14, 1890</i>.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span> - <h2 class='c012'>HENRY W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='c033'><i>From the “Boston Globe.”</i></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>FAIR brow grief-clouded, blue eyes dark with tears,</div> - <div class='line in4'>The young South sighed above her hero’s bier,</div> - <div class='line'>“Wear these my favors in the lists of Death,”</div> - <div class='line'>And o’er his calm breast scattered immortelles.</div> - <div class='line'>What Launcelot of old in jousts and field</div> - <div class='line'>Did bravely for the right with pen and voice,</div> - <div class='line'>With mind broad-reaching and with soul intense,</div> - <div class='line'>Did this young champion wisely for the truth.</div> - <div class='line'>From the loud echoes of rude, hideous war</div> - <div class='line'>He caught the murmur of a far-off peace;</div> - <div class='line'>Through the fierce hatred of embittered foes</div> - <div class='line'>He saw the faint day-star of amity;</div> - <div class='line'>O’er the ruin of the things that were</div> - <div class='line'>Beheld the shadowy Angel of new life,</div> - <div class='line'>And, chosen from the whirl of troublous days,</div> - <div class='line'>With soul knit up in valor, mind aflame,</div> - <div class='line'>Stood forth the knight and prophet of good will,</div> - <div class='line'>Of peace with dignity, of manhood’s strength</div> - <div class='line'>Sustaining brother’s love, of industry</div> - <div class='line'>That keeps an equal pace with building thought,</div> - <div class='line'>Of old things gracious yielding place to new.</div> - <div class='line'>And from the mists, responsive to his call,</div> - <div class='line'>Came forth in radiance, virgin-robed,</div> - <div class='line'>The starry maiden of sweet hope, and smiled—</div> - <div class='line'>Put forth her willing palm to meet his own,</div> - <div class='line'>And walked with him the valleys of Re-birth,</div> - <div class='line'>And where they passed the earth grew musical,</div> - <div class='line'>And long-hushed voices from the caves of Doubt</div> - <div class='line'>Swelled into melody of joyous faith;</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>While from the forests of the North swept down</div> - <div class='line'>The pæan of the Pines, and from the South</div> - <div class='line'>The murmur of the Everglades up stole</div> - <div class='line'>The diapason perfecting. Stark fields</div> - <div class='line'>That fever had burned out revived; and marts</div> - <div class='line'>Where brooded weird decay, and mills at rest,</div> - <div class='line'>The forge in blackness rusting, and the shop,</div> - <div class='line'>The school, the church, the forum, and the stage</div> - <div class='line'>Thrust off their desolation and despair</div> - <div class='line'>To feel again the energy of life</div> - <div class='line'>And know once more the happiness of man.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Such was his doing who was brave for truth;</div> - <div class='line'>Such is the legacy he leaves to pride;</div> - <div class='line'>And, though the New South mourn her fallen knight,</div> - <div class='line'>His soul and word move ever hand in hand</div> - <div class='line'>Adown the smiling valleys of Re-birth,</div> - <div class='line'>That still shall bud and flower because of him</div> - <div class='line'>And grow fair garlands for man’s Brotherhood.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'>E. A. B.</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span> - <h2 class='c012'>AT GRADY’S GRAVE.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='linedc drop-capanf0_25_0_7'>“WE live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breadths;</div> - <div class='line in7'>In feelings, not in figures on a dial;</div> - <div class='line'>We should count time by heart-throbs; he most lives</div> - <div class='line'>Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best”—</div> - <div class='line'>The Poet, dreaming in divinest mood,</div> - <div class='line'>Scanning the future with a Prophet’s eyes,</div> - <div class='line'>Beheld the outlines of the Perfect Man</div> - <div class='line'>Take shape before the vision of his soul;</div> - <div class='line'>And though the beauteous phantom could not stay,</div> - <div class='line'>He caught its grace and glory in the song</div> - <div class='line'>Wherein he praises the Ideal Man</div> - <div class='line'>Of whom he dreamed, and whom the world should know,</div> - <div class='line'>When in the teeming womb of Time the years</div> - <div class='line'>Had ripened him, mature in every part.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>While yet the world, expectant of this man,</div> - <div class='line'>Watched, mutely wondering when and whence would come</div> - <div class='line'>This radiant one, this full-bloom, fairest flower</div> - <div class='line'>Of manhood’s excellence, which Heaven itself</div> - <div class='line'>Were fain to keep, to crown the angels with—</div> - <div class='line'>God granting unto Earth but one or two</div> - <div class='line'>Within the cycle of a century—</div> - <div class='line'>Lo! suddenly, from out the realm of Dreams,</div> - <div class='line'>The splendid Vision of the musing bard,</div> - <div class='line'>His perfect and ideal Man, came forth,</div> - <div class='line'>And walked within the common light of day,</div> - <div class='line'>A living, breathing Presence—Henry Grady!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Did not this marvelously gifted man,</div> - <div class='line'>Who trod with us the old, familiar paths,</div> - <div class='line'>And glorified them daily with strange light,</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>As if a god were dwelling in our midst,</div> - <div class='line'>Measure, full-length, the stature of the man</div> - <div class='line'>The Poet quarried from the mines of Thought?</div> - <div class='line'>What though his years were brief, did he not fill</div> - <div class='line'>Their precious brevity with glorious deeds,</div> - <div class='line'>Till he outlived the utmost lives of men</div> - <div class='line'>Of lesser mold, of feebler fibred souls?</div> - <div class='line'>Garnering betwixt his cradle and his grave</div> - <div class='line'>The ripened harvests of a century!</div> - <div class='line'>Did he not live in thoughts as flowers live</div> - <div class='line'>In sunshine, filling the whole world with light,</div> - <div class='line'>And the celestial fragrance of his soul!</div> - <div class='line'>Did he not live in feelings so refined,</div> - <div class='line'>That every heart-string into music woke,</div> - <div class='line'>Though touched more lightly than a mother’s mouth</div> - <div class='line'>Would touch the sleep-sealed eyelids of her babe!</div> - <div class='line'>Ah, were the throbs of his great, loving heart,</div> - <div class='line'>Meet as a measure for <i>his</i> span of life?</div> - <div class='line'>Would not such measure circle all the world,</div> - <div class='line'>And find no end, save in infinity?</div> - <div class='line'>If he lives most—(and who shall dare deny</div> - <div class='line'>A truth which is as true as God is true?)</div> - <div class='line'>If he doth live the most who thinks the most,</div> - <div class='line'>Who feels the noblest, and who acts the best,</div> - <div class='line'>Thou, O my friend! didst to the utmost mete</div> - <div class='line'>Of transitory mortal life live out</div> - <div class='line'>Thine earthly span, though to our eyes thy life</div> - <div class='line'>Seems like the flashing of a falling star,</div> - <div class='line'>Which for a moment fills the heavens with light,</div> - <div class='line'>And vanishes forever.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in24'>Nay, not so—</div> - <div class='line'>The Poet’s words are thy best epitaph!</div> - <div class='line'>And though the stone which marks thy grave but tells</div> - <div class='line'>The number of the years thy mortal frame</div> - <div class='line'>Retained that eagle-wingèd soul of thine,</div> - <div class='line'>How long thy all-compassionating heart</div> - <div class='line'>Inhabited its clayey tenement,</div> - <div class='line'>As one of God’s blest almoners, sent down</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span>To fill the world with light and melody;</div> - <div class='line'>Tells when that prophet-tongue of thine was stilled,</div> - <div class='line'>Which, touched with inspiration’s sacred fire,</div> - <div class='line'>Preached Man’s eternal brotherhood, and led</div> - <div class='line'>The battle waged for Justice, Truth, and Right,</div> - <div class='line'>Still, and despite the tears that Sorrow woos</div> - <div class='line'>From the spontaneous fountains of our hearts,</div> - <div class='line'>We know that thou didst come unto thy grave</div> - <div class='line'>Brimful of years, if noble deeds and thoughts,</div> - <div class='line'>If love to God and Man, be made alone</div> - <div class='line'>The measure of thy length of human years;</div> - <div class='line'>And that, even as thy soul beyond the stars</div> - <div class='line'>Shall live—as God lives—everlastingly,</div> - <div class='line'>So shall the memory of thy shining deeds,</div> - <div class='line'>Remain forever in the hearts of men;</div> - <div class='line'>Nor shall the record of thy fame be touched</div> - <div class='line'>By Time’s defacing hand—thou art immortal!</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>And now, dear friend, farewell to thee! Thine eyes</div> - <div class='line'>Have death’s inviolate seal upon their lids;</div> - <div class='line'>They cannot see the Season’s glorious shows,</div> - <div class='line'>Although, methinks, in memory of thee</div> - <div class='line'>The grass grows greener here, and tenderer</div> - <div class='line'>The daily benediction of the sun</div> - <div class='line'>Falls on thy grave, as if thy very dust</div> - <div class='line'>Had sentience still, and, kindling into life</div> - <div class='line'>Under the fiery touchings of the sun,</div> - <div class='line'>Broke through the turfy barriers of the tomb</div> - <div class='line'>To mingle with the light, and mellow it;</div> - <div class='line'>There’s not a flower that timidly uplifts</div> - <div class='line'>Its smiling face, to look upon the Dawn,</div> - <div class='line'>Or bows its head to worship silently</div> - <div class='line'>The awful glory of the midnight stars,</div> - <div class='line'>But what takes on a gentler grace for thee,</div> - <div class='line'>And for thy sake a sweeter incense flings</div> - <div class='line'>From out its golden censer.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in30'>Nor, my friend,</div> - <div class='line'>Will thy dull ears awaken to the songs,</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>Of jubilant birds, the Summer’s full-voiced choir,</div> - <div class='line'>Singing thy praises—for they sing of Love,</div> - <div class='line'>And Love was the high choral of thy life,</div> - <div class='line'>The swan-song of thy soul; thou canst not hear</div> - <div class='line'>The sweetest sounds—made sweeter for thy sake</div> - <div class='line'>By the presiding Genius of this place—</div> - <div class='line'>The silvery minor-music of the rain,</div> - <div class='line'>Those murmurous drops, with iterations soft,</div> - <div class='line'>Of every flower, and trembling blade of grass,</div> - <div class='line'>A fairy’s cymbal make; the whispering wind,</div> - <div class='line'>The sea-like moaning of the distant pines,</div> - <div class='line'>The sound of wandering streams, or, sweeter still,</div> - <div class='line'>The voice of happy children at their play—</div> - <div class='line'>Ah, none of these interminable tones</div> - <div class='line'>Of Nature’s many-chorded instrument,</div> - <div class='line'>Which make the music of the outward world,</div> - <div class='line'>As thou didst make its inner harmony,</div> - <div class='line'>Out of the finer love-chords of thy heart,</div> - <div class='line'>Shall ever move thee; but a mightier charm</div> - <div class='line'>Shall often woo thee from thy heavenly home,</div> - <div class='line'>To shed upon thy place of sculpture</div> - <div class='line'>The splendor of a Presence from the skies;</div> - <div class='line'>For thou shalt see a fairer sight than all</div> - <div class='line'>The panoramas of the Seasons bring,</div> - <div class='line'>And hear far sweeter music than the sound</div> - <div class='line'>Of murmuring waters, or the melody</div> - <div class='line'>Of birds that warble in their happy nests:</div> - <div class='line'>Yea, thou shalt see how little children come</div> - <div class='line'>To deck thy grave with daisies, wet with tears;</div> - <div class='line'>See homeless Want slow hither wend his way,</div> - <div class='line'>To bless the ashes of “the poor man’s friend,”</div> - <div class='line'>And from the scant dole of his wretchedness,</div> - <div class='line'>Despite his hunger, lay a liberal gift</div> - <div class='line'>Upon thy grave, in token of his love;</div> - <div class='line'>And in the pride and glory of her state,</div> - <div class='line'>Sceptred and crowned, the Spirit of the South,</div> - <div class='line'>Whose Heart, and Soul, and living Voice thou wert,</div> - <div class='line'>Will come with Youth and Manhood by her side,</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>To draw fresh inspirations from thy dust,</div> - <div class='line'>And consecrate her children with thy fame,</div> - <div class='line'>Till they have learned the lessons of thy life,</div> - <div class='line'>And glorify her, too, with noble deeds;</div> - <div class='line'>Thou shalt behold here, coming from all lands,</div> - <div class='line'>The men who honor Love and Loyalty,</div> - <div class='line'>Who glory in the strength of those who scale</div> - <div class='line'>The mountain-summits of Humanity,</div> - <div class='line'>And from their star-encircled peaks proclaim</div> - <div class='line'>The Fatherhood of the Eternal God,</div> - <div class='line'>The Brotherhood of Man—both being one</div> - <div class='line'>In holy bonds of justice, truth, and love—</div> - <div class='line'>Christ’s “Peace on Earth and good-will unto Men”—</div> - <div class='line'>That old evangel, preached anew by thee,</div> - <div class='line'>Till the persuasion of thy golden tongue</div> - <div class='line'>Quickened and moved the world with mighty love,</div> - <div class='line'>As if a god had come to earth again!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c039'><span class='sc'>Charles W. Hubner.</span></div> -<p class='drop-capanf0_25_0_7 c017'><span class='sc'>Atlanta, Ga.</span></p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span><span class='c029'>MEMORIAL MEETINGS.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span> - <h2 class='c012'>THE ATLANTA MEMORIAL MEETING.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Constitution,” December 21.</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>THE overflowing hearts of a sorrowing people found -expression in words yesterday.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Memorial services to the memory of the dead Grady were -held in DeGive’s Opera House, and for three hours eulogies -were pronounced on his name.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Loving lips and dewy eyes told the sorrow of a bereaved -people gathered to pay the last public tribute to their -departed friend.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The service began at 11 o’clock, and continued until 2.</p> - -<p class='c018'>At half-past ten the various escorts assembled at the -Chamber of Commerce. There they formed and marched -to the Opera House in a body. General Clement A. Evans, -D.D., and Rev. Dr. J. W. Lee, D.D., headed the procession. -Following them were the speakers of the occasion, pallbearers, -honorary escort and members of the Chi Phi Fraternity, -headed by Mayor John T. Glenn.</p> - -<p class='c018'>At the Opera House the delegations were ranged on the -stage. They were Dr. J. B. Hawthorne, Dr. H. C. Morrison, -Dr. N.C. Barnett, General Clement A. Evans, Judge -W. R. Hammond, Judge W. T. Newman, Mayor John T. -Glenn, Hon. John Temple Graves, Prof. H. C. White, of -Athens; Hon. Patrick Walsh, of Augusta; Julius L. Brown, -W. A. Hemphill, Dr. J. W. Lee, Charles S. Northen, Louis -Gholstin, T. L. Meador, B. B. Crew, Donald Bain, Hon. N. -J. Hammond, Captain J. W. English, Governor Gordon, -John C. Calhoun, of New York; Judge Howard Van Epps, -Patrick Calhoun, Albert H. Cox, W. R. Joyner, C. A. -Collier, John Colvin, Porter King, Captain Everett, S. M. -Inman, Professor Bass, Major Jno. A. Fitten, Captain R. -I. Lowry, L. J. Hill, W. H. Thompson, J. A. Wright, H. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>C. White, W. P. Hill, Arnold Broyles, and other members -of the Chi Phi; W. J. Garrett, W. W. Boyd, W. L. Calhoun, -Hon. T. H. Mustin, of Madison; R. D. Spalding, -M. C. Kiser, J. J. Griffin, J. R. Wyly, H. B. Tompkins, L. -B. Nelson, Charles Keith, Judge George Hillyer, Gus -Long, Dr. Crawford, J. G. Oglesby, J. J. Spalding, John -J. Falvey, Clark Howell, Jr., F. M. O’Bryan, C. A. Fouche, -of Rome, and others.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The Opera House, inside and out, was draped in sable -and white, and on the stage, forming a fragrant background, -was a mass of beautiful flowers and floral pieces. -In the center of the group was the lovely offering of the -dead man’s associates and employés, standing out from a -setting of palms and roses. To the right of this central -piece was the crown from the people of Boston, and to the -left the tribute from the Virginia Society.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To the front and at each side of the stage was a life-size -crayon portrait of Mr. Grady, heavily draped, and resting -on a gilded easel. Round the base of the easel were -flowers and plants of delicate foliage, perfuming the air -with their fragrant breath, and seeming to send sweet -messages to the loved face above.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The galleries and boxes were all hung in mourning.</p> - -<p class='c018'>General <span class='sc'>Clement A. Evans</span> opened the service with -prayer, full of words of sweetness and comfort, and of -grateful thanks for the good already accomplished by the -one that is gone, even in so short a sojourn on the earth. -General Evans prayed calmly and simply, concluding with -the invocation of God’s blessing to those left behind, and -an inspiration to those who were to speak of the departed -soul.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mayor <span class='sc'>Glenn</span>, who presided over the service, then arose -and announced the order of exercises. He said he was too -sick of heart to attempt to offer a tribute to the memory of -his dead friend, and contented himself with a few simple -words of preface.</p> - -<hr class='c032' /> - -<p class='c018'>Judge <span class='sc'>W. R. Hammond</span> was introduced, and read the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>following tribute of the Chi Phi Fraternity, of which Mr. -Grady was one of the charter members at the State University:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>THE CHI PHI MEMORIAL.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>The following memorial and resolutions were prepared -by a committee appointed by a number of members of the -Chi Phi Fraternity, who assembled in Atlanta upon the -announcement of the death of Henry W. Grady, who was -a member of that Fraternity, and were read by Judge W. R. -Hammond:</p> - -<p class='c021'>It is sad beyond the power of expression to be compelled to-day, and -from this time henceforth, to speak of Henry W. Grady as dead. But -it is with the profoundest pleasure that we take occasion to give utterance -to our appreciation of his virtues, and bear testimony to those -high qualities in him that marked him in many respects, not only as -one of the leading men of his State and section, but as one of the foremost -men of his times.</p> - -<p class='c022'>It is peculiarly appropriate that his club-mates of the Chi Phi -Fraternity should perpetuate his memory, because he was one of its -charter members at the State University, and always gave to it a place -of unusual warmth in his affections, ever manifesting, in his attachment -to its principles and to its members, that freshness of enthusiastic -ardor which so strikingly characterized him in his college days. How -well do we remember him—those of us who were accustomed to be -with him in those days—as, with buoyant tread and sparkling eye and -merry smile, he went out and came in amongst us, ever bearing in his -frank, generous, hearty manner, the cheeriest good will to all, and the -unmistakable evidence of malice and ill-will toward none. Easily and -quickly did he win the hearts of all his club and college-mates, and it -was their delight to do him honor whenever occasion permitted.</p> - -<p class='c022'>As it was then among the boys, so it was afterwards among men. -He wore his heart upon his sleeve, and gave it to all without reserve. -In some this characteristic would have been weakness, but in him it -was a chief element of strength because of the very fact that he possessed -it in such a marked and striking degree. Even those who were -his enemies were won to him when they came into his presence, and -had their dislikes charmed away by the magnetism of his manner and -his open and unreserved frankness.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Henry Grady had eminent characteristics which made him great, -and it is proper and right that we should place upon record our estimate -<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>of them, and cannot but be highly beneficial to us to thoughtfully -consider some of them.</p> - -<p class='c022'>His mind was exceedingly subtle, and his perceptible powers unusually -and remarkably keen. He comprehended at a glance, and discriminated -as if by intuition. It was this, doubtless, that gave him -that wonderful expressiveness of speech which so completely captivated -all who ever heard him. He saw clearly—therefore he had power to -make others see.</p> - -<p class='c022'>We all have within us at times vague and inexpressible thoughts, -and we feel a desire for some one who can interpret them for us, and -give utterance and expression to that which we cannot even put into -the form of a suggestion. We feel the need of a Daniel who can tell -us the dream, and then give us the interpretation of it. Who that has -listened to the magic of Grady’s speech, or gathered the subtle thought -from his well-chosen words, has not found in them the expression of -that which seemed to lie slumbering in his own bosom, only to be -awakened by the touch of his master hand! Such is the service which -genius renders to humanity, and such did he render for us with a -power that was almost matchless and unapproachable.</p> - -<p class='c022'>But, superb as were his mental gifts, it was not this alone, or even -chiefly, that made him great and gave him power such as few ever -possessed to attract men to him. There have been those who equaled -if they did not surpass him here, but who yet have failed to impress -themselves upon humanity with a tithe of the force exerted by him. It -was his great heart that endeared him to us all and made us love him -and rejoice in his success, with a feeling that knew no jealousy, and -ever prompted us to bid him God-speed in his onward and upward -career to the high destiny which seemed to await him.</p> - -<p class='c022'>True love is unmistakable in its manifestations. He who really and -truly loves his fellows need not fear that they will fail to find it out. It -will manifest itself, not in the arts and wiles of the demagogue, but in -a thousand ways which need not be premeditated, and cannot be misjudged -or misunderstood.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Grady loved humanity, and love with him was not weak sentimentality, -but strong, over-mastering passion. He loved humanity, not in -the abstract, but in the person of those members of it who came within -reach of him. And this love to them was not a mere sentiment, but a -real passion, to which he gave expression in his never-tiring acts of -devotion and his ceaseless efforts to aid them in every way and by every -means that lay in his power. It was thus that he grappled his friends -to him with hoops of steel and held them in a grasp which nothing -could loosen.</p> - -<p class='c022'>It was Grady’s strong emotional nature that gave wings to his words -and carried them so deep into the hearts of his fellow men. Thought -<span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>must have feeling back of it before it can have power to stir men’s -blood and move them to action. The twain must be married together -as one, and from their union springs a light and power which are -potent factors in the redemption of humanity. In Grady they were -united, and hence his words burnt their way into the souls of men. -The magnificence of his thoughts, and the untold wealth of feeling -which sprang from his great heart, were not to be resisted, and easily -won and held the admiration and homage of his fellow men.</p> - -<p class='c022'>But the deep pathos of Grady’s heart, so often stirred into those -grand utterances which made him famous, seems now to have been but -the prophecy of the far deeper pathos of his untimely death. Oh how -sad it was to see him lying there upon his bier mute and motionless, -when but yesterday the nation hung upon his words, and men of all -sections and political parties delighted to do him honor. Oh how -strong in our breasts is the wish that he might have lived, not only for -himself, his family and friends, but also for the sake of his country, -and especially his beloved Southland, just beginning to feel the disenthrallment -from her bonds, and to realize that one had arisen who -seemed to have the power to place her before the Nation and the world -in her rightful position, and claim for her that sympathy and forbearance -which she so much needs in the solution of the great problem -which has been thrust upon her.</p> - -<p class='c022'>But he is gone, and we can only mourn his loss, and indulge the -hope that the good he has done may live after him, and that even the -sad bereavement of his death may do much to help seal the truth of his -last public utterance upon the hearts of the people of this great country, -and ultimately bring them together as one in a union of fraternal -fellowship and love.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolved</i>, That in the death of our brother, Henry W. Grady, our -Fraternity has lost one of its most honored and devoted members.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolved</i>, That we tender to his bereaved family our sincere and -heartfelt sympathy.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolved</i>, That a copy of this memorial and resolutions be sent to -his family.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolved</i>, That the city papers be requested to publish these proceedings, -and that a copy be sent to the national organ of the Chi Phi Fraternity.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-l c041'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>J. W. Lee</span>, }</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>J. T. White</span>, }</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>B. H. Hill</span>, }</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Andrew Calhoun</span>, } <i>Committee</i>.</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>W. H. Hill</span>, }</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Jack M. Slaton</span>, }</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>W. R. Hammond</span>, }</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span>Hon. Patrick Walsh was introduced by Mayor Glenn, -and said:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>ADDRESS OF HON. PATRICK WALSH.</h3> - -<p class='c021'>Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Fellow-Citizens: We are -here to pay a tribute to the worth and greatness of the -departed—to him who did so much for the prosperity of -the great and goodly city of Atlanta; to him who did so -much for Georgia and the South, and to him who did so -much for the restoration of peace and good will among the -people of all sections of our common country.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The most gifted and useful public man of his day has -passed away in the person of Henry W. Grady. I will -refer briefly to him as an editor before he electrified the -country, and won plaudits from his countrymen by the -magic of his winsome eloquence.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I met him for the first time about twenty years ago at a -meeting of the Georgia Press Association in the city of -Augusta. Although he had not reached his majority, he -was the proprietor and editor of the Rome <i>Commercial</i>, -which was his first newspaper venture. He was then a -striking and manly youth, and gave promise of a career of -prominence and usefulness in the field of journalism. He -moved from Rome to Atlanta and was engaged for a few -years in editing the <i>Herald</i>, one of the brightest and most -enterprising newspapers in the State. He acquired reputation -as a correspondent during the period of reconstruction, -and subsequently represented one of the leading journals -of the North as its special representative in Florida during -the memorable campaign of 1876, when the returning board -of that State negatived the will of the people. Mr. Grady -gave the country graphic and truthful pictures of the evils -which the South endured. He strikingly depicted the -wrongs imposed upon our people and exposed the usurpation -of those placed in authority by the aid of the general -Government. During that sad period of the South’s eventful -history, he rendered signal service to the people, and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>principles which he advocated, with a steadfast devotion and -an exalted patriotism.</p> - -<p class='c022'>His reputation as a journalist is identified with the -growth and prosperity of that great newspaper, in the -upbuilding of which he took such a conspicuous part. The -<i>Constitution</i> stands as a monument to his ability as an -editor. His versatility as a writer was something phenomenal. -There was no subject within the range of the -press that he did not discuss with a grace and facility that -were captivating and with a clearness and vigor that were -convincing. His imagination glowed with luminous -thoughts which were clothed in the diction of polished -rhetoric. Without disparagement to the living or the -dead, he won the first place in the ranks of Southern -journalists.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I speak of Mr. Grady as an editor. Others will speak -of him as an orator. Oratory was a natural gift with him. -It was born in him. Where others struggle to win success, -he, by reason of his genius, reached the mountain top, and -from this great eminence spoke to the ear of the Nation and -captured the hearts of the people. He achieved greatness -by reason of his vigorous mentality, and his fame as an -editor and as an orator is voiced by the sentiments of -admiring but sorrowing friends in all sections of the Union. -He has been stricken before his time. Already the first of -his generation, if his life had been spared his opportunity -for greatness would have broadened and given him in “the -applause of listening senates” a field for the exercise of -those great gifts with which he was so richly endowed. -He died too soon for his people and for his country. But -his name and his fame will be an example and an inspiration -to practice and perpetuate the principles of government -in the advocacy of which he yielded up his life.</p> - -<p class='c022'>“With charity for all and malice toward none,” he -went about among his countrymen doing good. It was his -mission to help the poor and to aid the deserving. Every -good work received the support of his impulsive heart and -noble soul. His last speech was an impassioned and eloquent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span>plea for a peaceful solution of that great problem -which the South and the South alone can solve. It was -not to oppress, but to elevate the colored man—to enable -both races to live in peace, and work out their mission in -the regeneration of the South. What he so eloquently -said in Boston represents the firm conviction of his Southern -countrymen, and his death but emphasizes the truth -and force of his position. The South is free and the intelligence -and courage of her people will preserve her and -her institutions for all time from hostile and inferior -domination.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The South mourns the untimely death of Georgia’s brilliant -son. The North deeply sympathizes with us in the -death of him whose last public utterance so feelingly -touched the patriotic heart of the people, and the response -comes back from all sections of a re-united people and a -restored Union. Few men have accomplished so much for -the unification of public sentiment on questions of grave -import, and there is no one who has accomplished more for -the material development of his beloved South. He is -dead, but his works will live after him. His name is -enshrined in the hearts of his grateful countrymen, who -are saddened and bowed down with unspeakable sorrow.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Henry W. Grady had the zeal of a martyr and valor of a -patriot. If it be permitted to mortals who have put on -immortality to look upon this world from their celestial -home, the incense of praise which ascends from our stricken -hearts will be grateful to the soul of Henry Grady. God -has set his seal upon his silver tongue, and no more forever -will his eloquent voice, stimulating his fellow-countrymen -to deeds of noble enterprise, be heard on earth. -Matchless the fertility of his mind, matchless the magic -and power of his presentation, matchless his power of -organization, matchless his power of accomplishment. -Truly, indeed, can it be said of him, there is no man left -to fill his place.</p> - -<p class='c022'>May his golden soul rest in the bosom of the God that -gave it, is the humble but heartfelt prayer of one who -<span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>admired and respected him living, and who mourns and -reveres him dead.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>ADDRESS OF HON. B. H. HILL.</h3> -<p class='c021'>I cannot speak in studied phrase of my dead friend. -The few simple words I can trust my faltering lips to utter -will come from a heart burdened with grief too deep for language -to express. A grief whose crushing weight, outside -of my own home circle, has taken away from life its brightest -hopes and its highest inspiration.</p> - -<p class='c022'>In the summer of 1866 I first met Henry Grady, even -then giving promise of marvelous gifts of mind and heart. -From that summer evening, remembered now as though it -were but yesterday, I have loved him with all a brother’s -devotion and tenderness. During all these years there has -been no shadow on our friendship and no secrets in our -hearts. In prosperity he has rejoiced with me, and when -sorrow and trouble came no voice was as cheering, no sympathy -was as sweet as his. Only a year ago, when death -came into my home and took the one little blossom that -had bloomed in my heart as my own, he wrote to my -mother words of tenderest comfort for her and of love for -me—words that are inexpressibly precious to me now. Out -of my life into the beautiful beyond have passed the two -friends I loved best on earth—the chivalrous Gordon, the -peerless Grady. God keep my friends and lead them -gently through the meadow-lands where the river flows -in song eternal. I know that near its crystal banks, -where the birds sing sweetest and flowers bloom brightest, -they have clasped hands in blessed and happy reunion. -The love with which Henry Grady inspired his friends has -never been surpassed by mortal man. Beautiful and touching -have been the expressions of devotion that have come -to his family. I believe that there are hundreds all over -this State who would gladly take his place in yonder -silent tomb, if by so doing they could restore him to the -people who loved him and who need him so greatly. It is -not his great genius, unrivaled as it was; not his fervent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>patriotism, unselfish as it was; not his wonderful eloquence, -matchless as it was; not his public spirit, willing -as it was—these are not the recollections that have moved -the people as they have never been moved before.</p> - -<p class='c022'>But it was the great heart of the man beating in loving -sympathy with suffering, touching with sweetest encouragement -the lowly and struggling, carrying the sunshine of his -own radiant life into so many unhappy lives, that now bow -down the hearts of the people under the weight of a personal -loss.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Henry Grady lived in an atmosphere of love. In him -there was greatness—greatness unselfish—unconscious—gentle -as the heart of a child. In him there was charity—charity -white and still as the moonlight that shines into -the shadows of night. In him there was heroism—the -heroism of the knight that drew no sword, but waved in -his hand, high above his white plumed brow, the sacred -wand of peace, of love, of fraternity. In him there was -patriotism, but a patriotism as pure and steadfast as a flame -burning as a passion for the people he loved. As I contemplate -this life through the years that I have known him -so well, I feel as one who has seen the sun rise in the cloudless -spring time, warming into beauty all the flowers of the -earth, and winning into praise all the songsters of the air, -at noonday, when all earth was rejoicing in its light and -growing in its strength, suddenly fade away, leaving the -land in darkness. Henry Grady was the great sun of the -Southland, under whose fervid eloquence the cold heart -of the North was melting into patience, confidence, justice, -sympathy and love. It is no exaggeration to say that he -was the great hope of the country.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The eyes of the South were looking toward him with -hope. The ears of the North were listening to him with -faith. Inscrutable, indeed, are the ways of a Providence -that demanded a life so richly endowed, so potential for -good. And yet it is the finite mind that would question -either the mercy or wisdom of the Infinite. Our hero could -not have died at a time when he was dearer to his people. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span>His last brave, eloquent message will find its way, has found -its way, to the hearts and consciences of his countrymen. -His death is a sacrificial offering from whose altar rises even -now the incense of perpetual peace and a perfect union of -brotherly love. The lessons of his life will ripen with the -passing years. Ages yet to come will compass the fullness -of his fame and time will consecrate the patriotic martyrdom -of his death. He sang like one inspired with the -sacred memories of the past and the glorious hopes of the -future. His works and his noble qualities will expand and -multiply from his tomb as the sweet spice rushes from the -broken alabaster vase. His name will become the synonym -for friendship, charity, wisdom, eloquence, patriotism and -love, wherever these virtues are known and treasured -among men.</p> - -<p class='c022'>To use his own beautiful words, written of another: -“Those who loved him best will find him always present. -They will see him enthroned in every heart that kindles -with sympathy to others. They will feel his kindly presence -in the throb of every hand that clasps their hands in -the universal kinship of grief. They will see his loving -memory beaming from every eye as it falls on theirs.” So -he shall live in Georgians and with Georgians forever and -forever. On the monument which loving hands will erect -to his memory let the inscription be written: “At all times -and everywhere he gave his strength to the weak—his -sympathy to the suffering—his life to his country and his -heart to God.” Our hearts go out to-day in tenderest -sympathy to the loved ones at home. Those alone who -have had the privilege of entering the charmed circle can -know the void left there.</p> - -<p class='c022'>To the mother who idolized this noble son—and he never -forgot her, for did he not turn aside from questions of state -to tell the Nation that her knees were the truest altar he -had ever found, and her hands the fairest and strongest -that had ever led him; to the sweet and loving sister, the -companion of his boyhood; to the heart-broken wife -always worthy of his love, devoted to him, ever dear to him; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_356'>356</span>to the sweet and gentle daughter, the idol of his heart and -household; to the noble and manly son—these were his -jewels. And as we loved him so shall we love them. I -have seen a picture with a shaft of light reaching from -earth to heaven. Up the long, white rays, dazzling in -glory and transcendent in beauty, an immortal soul is -ascending to the illumined heights—ascending to meet its -God. I think that if there ever was a soul borne upward -upon rays of glory it was the beautiful soul of this friend -we loved. The golden beams of this earthly glory shining -into the pure light of heaven wove his radiant pathway to -the stars. What an ascension for an immortal soul! -Earth’s glory under his feet; Heaven’s glory upon his brow. -So he, our immortal, becomes God’s immortal. Oh, thou -bright, immortal spirit! Thou standeth this day in the -presence of the angels. The King, in his beauty, hath -greeted thee with the welcome: Well done, well done good -and faithful servant; the great and good that have passed -from earth are thy companions, and thy ears have heard -music sweeter far than all earthly plaudits. Yet we miss -thee; we mourn thee; through the rifted heavens we greet -thee with grateful tears and undying love.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>MR. JULIUS L. BROWN’S SPEECH.</h3> - -<p class='c021'>Again we are assembled in the house of mourning. Our -homes and public buildings are yet black with the symbols -of our grief for him who went before.</p> - -<p class='c022'>“One woe doth tread upon another’s heel, so fast they -follow.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>Two short weeks ago, while we were assembled in our -capital covered with the insignia of grief, to do honor to -the memory of one who had been our chief when the storm -of war raged, we received a telegram, mingling his grief -with ours, from him, then on his journey of duty to Boston, -whose sad death we have met this day to mourn.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Jefferson Davis and Henry Grady are dead. To-day -their souls commune, and we are left to weep. In their -deaths the South has lost two of her noblest sons. One -<span class='pageno' id='Page_357'>357</span>was gathered to his fathers full of years and rich in honor. -He had served his country well. He had been the chosen -leader of our people, when the storms of war were raging. -He, as our representative, had been subjected to insults -and to indignities by the Government he had honored, and -in whose service he had spent the best years of his life. -He passed away, and the sunset of his life was glorious and -beautiful.</p> - -<p class='c022'>We have not yet put aside the sables of grief we wear -for Jefferson Davis, and yet in two short weeks we have met -to mourn the death of him whom we hold dearer; our -townsman, our daily associate and friend.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Henry W. Grady has gone to his last home.</p> - -<p class='c022'>One was an old man, ready and waiting to be called. -His day was over, his work was done, and he was waiting -for his rest. His sun had risen, past its meridian in glory -and was sinking in honor. For him the night in due time -had come. The other, was a young man, full of hope and -rich in promise. His sun had just arisen and it gave -promise that before him was yet a glorious day.</p> - -<p class='c022'>One was the chosen representative of our people before -the storms of war had swept over us. He was the representative -of the South under its old system. The other -was the acknowledged exponent of the South under its -altered condition of affairs.</p> - -<p class='c022'>We weep for him to-day.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Of all the young men in America none had such power -for good. None had the ear of the public so completely -as he to be heard. None had so eloquent a tongue to -produce conviction. None had so magnetic a bearing to -induce followers. He was ambitious, yes, but for what? -Not for the spoils of office, not for command of his fellow-man, -not for himself, but for his people. Years ago when -his friends all over Georgia urged him to allow his name to -be presented for a post of honor in the counsels of the Nation -he refused. His letter of declination was so strong, so -patriotic, and so unselfish that it commanded the admiration -of the world. I know that even far-off New Zealand -<span class='pageno' id='Page_358'>358</span>published his words and did him honor. His eloquent -speech in New York completed the structure of his national -fame. From the night of its delivery the whole country -ranked him among its foremost citizens. Even in down-trodden -and oppressed Cuba his eloquent words were -translated into the Spanish tongue and read with delight -while I was there. The echoes of his last eloquent, matchless -defense of the South yet linger in Faneuil Hall, and so -long as its historic walls shall stand they will be classed -with the best efforts of Everett and of Webster. His -friends all over the country read his words, and wondered -that he was so great. Ambitious; yes, ambitious to be -able to present the cause of the South in such a manner as -to produce conviction in the minds and in the hearts of its -most ultra defamers, that our people now in good faith -accept as final the construction placed upon the Constitution -of this country by the victors, and that they are as -absolutely loyal and devoted, as are the people of the -North, to that Union against which his father had fought.</p> - -<p class='c022'>With no apologies for the past; with no recantation of -the belief that they were patriots, without in any way casting -reproach upon our dead, with a nature grand enough -to admire Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis, he had -taken for his high mission on this earth, the task of -reconciling the people of the sections. Until this great -mission was accomplished, he had no time to devote to the -narrow duties of a public office. Office, therefore, he did -not seek. Office he would not have. There was but one -office in this land great enough for him. Had he lived -until his sun had reached its meridian splendor there -would have been a complete reconciliation between the -sections. Partisan malignity would not have sought to -enact laws aimed at only a part of this grand country. -Soon would there have been a complete union of hearts -between those who had been engaged in fratricidal strife, -which the most ultra partisanship could not have severed. -Too young himself to be in the war, but the son of a gallant -Confederate soldier, killed upon the field of battle, he, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span>more than any one of older years, could by his chosen profession -bear the messages of peace to the North, and by his -mighty pen, by his eloquent tongue, by his melodious -voice, and by his commanding presence could he procure a -hearing from an audience of strangers and produce conviction. -If it be true that,</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>The tongues of dying men</div> - <div class='line'>Enforce attention like deep harmony,</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c043'>then his last words, uttered in behalf of his people, will -not have been spoken in vain.</p> -<p class='c022'>In his death the South has lost its most eloquent advocate -and its most powerful defender. America weeps -for one of her noblest sons. Who is there to finish this -work? God grant that there may rise some one to complete -his mission!</p> - -<p class='c022'>He was a man full of impulse and a quick reader of the -popular mind. Well do we all remember the time when -the result of a presidential election became certainly -known, how his heart, wild with joy at what he believed -to be the beginning of better days for the South, organized -a street procession and proceeded to the legislative halls of -this State, and with his followers entered the house, and in -his clear, ringing voice announced, “Mr. Speaker: A -message from the American people,” and adjourned it. -’Tis said that history shows that there have been but two -men who have ever adjourned a parliament without a vote, -Oliver Cromwell and Henry Grady. One was an act of -tyranny—the other the expression of the desire of every -member of the house.</p> - -<p class='c022'>A citizen of Atlanta, he loved Georgia; a Georgian, he -adored the South; a Southerner, he worshipped the whole -Union. He was an American in the fullest sense of that -term. There was no work of public or private charity -among us which he did not aid by his tongue, his pen, his -head or his purse, whether that work was to procure the -pardon of an abandoned young girl confined in the chain-gang -with criminals, or canvassing the streets of Atlanta -<span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>through snow and ice, accompanied with a retinue of -wagons and drays, to accumulate fuel and provisions to -prevent our poor from freezing and from starving. It was -in response to his appeals, more than to all else combined, -that a home is now being erected within sight of the dome -of yonder capitol for the aged and infirm veterans of the -Lost Cause. It was to him more than to all others that our -Piedmont Expositions, designed to show to the world the -wealth of our undeveloped mineral, agricultural and other -resources, were carried to a successful end. It was through -his persuasive power that the Chautauqua Association, -designed to more thoroughly educate our people, was -established.</p> - -<p class='c022'>But in the limited time allotted to me, I cannot go into -further details. If you seek his monuments, look around. -They are in every home and every calling of life. In all -that which has tended to develop the material resources of -the country, to enrich his people, to encourage education -and a love of the arts, to relieve suffering, to provide for -the poor, and to make our people better and nobler, he -devoted his life, unselfishly and without hope of other -reward than the approval of his conscience.</p> - -<p class='c022'>He was a model citizen. As a member of society, he -was welcomed to every fireside. He was the center of -every group. His doors were open always to strangers. -He was given to hospitality. He was the life, the soul -of every enterprise with which he was connected. As -a patriot, his heart was bowed down with grief that his -countrymen should be estranged. As a humanitarian, his -great heart wept at the suffering of the poor, and his voice -was ever raised in behalf of the afflicted and oppressed. -As a friend, he was devoted, unselfish and loyal. Now, -that he is gone, we know how dear he was to us. We have -awakened to the full appreciation of his great worth, and -of the calamity which has befallen us.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Yesterday we stood by his tomb. No private citizen in -this country ever had such a pageant. For miles the -streets were lined with people. We saw the aged and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_361'>361</span>young, the rich and the poor, the white and the black, -with eyes dimmed by tears, with hearts bowed down with -sorrow at loss of him. They had left their homes upon -our greatest festal day to pay him the homage of their -tears. To each of them his loss was a personal sorrow.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I knew Henry W. Grady well, and I loved him. To me -his death is a personal grief. He had been my friend for -more than twenty-three years. Well do I remember the day -I joined his class in our University. Well do I picture his -friendly presence as he bade me welcome and invited me to -his home. Well do I recall our meeting in our college -societies. Our plans, our struggles, our defeats and our -triumphs there. Since that time, I have sat with him around -social boards. He has been time and again an honored and -a welcomed guest in my house. I shall miss him there. -We have been together in public enterprises, we have met -in the busy marts of men. We have worked side by side, -and we have differed upon questions of policy, but in all -these differences he has been my friend. I loved him, and -deplore his death.</p> - -<p class='c022'>We shall erect in this city a monument to commemorate -his many virtues, and to hold him up as an example -before the young and those who come after us; but however -exalted that monument may be, and however near the -skys it may reach, the greatest and best monument to us -who knew him will be the memory of his many virtues -which we shall always treasure in our hearts.</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Sink, thou of nobler light.</div> - <div class='line'>The land will mourn thee in its darkening hour;</div> - <div class='line'>Its heavens grow gray at thy retiring power;</div> - <div class='line'>Thou stirring orb of mind, thou beacon power,</div> - <div class='line'>Be thy great memory still a guardian might,</div> - <div class='line'>When thou art gone from sight.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'>Judge Emory Speer was on the list of speakers to follow -Mr. Brown, but did not reach the city in time to take part -in the exercises.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_362'>362</span> - <h3 class='c016'>SPEECH OF HON. ALBERT COX.</h3> -</div> -<p class='c021'>Twenty-three years ago, poor and painfully uncertain of -even a broken part of education, but shortly from farm and -camp and captivity, broken-hearted and distrusting all -things, lonesome in a strange place, two companions met -me at Athens and made me feel at home. One of them -mourns to-day with me the death of the other.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I look across the many years as across a wide and misty -river made up of many streams, and recall the sunny -face, the glowing eye, the engaging smile, the warm hand -formed; it seemed to assure a friend of love with its very -clasp—the happy-hearted, the happy-making Henry Grady.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Treasured by his companions are traditions that his -generous hands were helpful even then. It is known that -his appeal to the “Great Old Commoner” kept a child of -the State to the breast of its own Alma Mater. It is known -that he led the relief corps of kindness to the aid of maimed -veterans shivering in bitter winter at the old rock college. -To suggest such deeds seemed natural to his heart, and to -do them nobly seemed inherent to his hand.</p> - -<p class='c022'>His was the versatile genius of our class. Never fenced -in to his text-books, apparently careless of mere curriculum, -he roamed the fields of literature more than he tramped the -turnpike of studies. Sparkling and popular, genial and -beloved, his mind moved like a stream of poetry, cascading -and flashing, banked in sweet flowers, and singing to sweet -meadows made happy by its song.</p> - -<p class='c022'>His address as final orator of his society, fairly represents -the mind of the man when launched. It was an -exquisite fiction of ideal life. He painted in words an -island of beauty; in the sweetness of his sentences the -fragrance of flowers sweeter than nature’s own seemed to be -wafted to rapt listeners; the loveliness of his creation stood -out so vividly to the eye of intellect that no one view of any -grace in statuary or beauty in picture of any artist would -be remembered better. It was an island worthy to lay in -the same sea with Tennyson’s Island of Avilion, where -<span class='pageno' id='Page_363'>363</span>Knight and King Arthur was to rest his soul, and I would -wish the soul of my class-mate the sweet and eternal rest of -his own happy island, embowered in the beauties of his -own sweet fancies forever, did I not believe that he has -touched the pearl-strewn shore of a better and lovelier land -than even this, or even that of which he dreamed; that he -“rests in the balm-breathing gardens of God!”</p> - -<p class='c022'>Who would dream that such ideality of mind would be -composed with such powers of business as he had? It is -wonderful that the versatile course of his life, while adding -to his breadth, did not lessen his depth. To but few, -indeed, is it endowed to be both versatile and profound. -His varied experience, like tributes, added to the brightness -and to the breadth, and to the depth of his intellect, -until before touching the sea it rolled in majestic splendor, -wide and clear as the Potomac, deep and burden-bearing as -the Ohio. He had great opportunities. He worked and -won them. Starting without them, he created them by -deserving them. That great journal, through whose columns -he and his associates have done so much to rebuild -the fortunes and hopes of our people, did not make Henry -Grady. The Lord made him. But his bereaved associates -there did all that men can do in the moulding of other -men. They recognized him for what he was and for what -he could become. They participated in the glorious work, -They surrendered him, and he surrendered himself to his -country. The first duty of the Southern patriot—a national -duty also—was to recuperate this section. In that duty, -no man out of office, perhaps no man at all, has labored with -more credit and with better result than Henry W. Grady. -For the complete reconciliation of the sections of this -Union every patriot ought to strive and every Christian -ought to pray. Sectional jealousies and angers are the -only enemies of the Union, and those who claim to place -the preservation of the Union above all other duties, ought -to be the foremost forwarders of the fraternity of the -American people. They who love the Union should help -to heal its wounds.</p> - -<p class='c022'><span class='pageno' id='Page_364'>364</span>Strange spectacle! Noble culmination of a noble life! -From the midst of those charged with hate toward the -Union, Henry W. Grady went forth a minister to plead for -love to all its parts.</p> - -<p class='c022'>“Blessed is the peacemaker.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>His voice was for that peace in our country made perpetual -by justice to all and respect for the sacred things of -earth. His voice was for building an American temple of -peace, not upon the quicksands of comparative power, subject -to the shift from one section to the other, but upon the -everlasting foundations of right to all, respect to all, liberties -and liberality to all!</p> - -<p class='c022'>Oh, what a cause he had! If successful, unfolded -glories of the Union of future times; the sweet and swelling -harmonies of the ever-increasing choir of free and -happy States; the grand ideals of the venerable fathers all -realized, and every bloom of American hope fruited in happiness, -in love, in liberty, in enduring peace!</p> - -<p class='c022'>And if unsuccessful! If he and those to come must -plead in vain for the unity as well as union of the country, -then the dread doubt whether all peace is to be only preparation -for deadly grapplings; the dread doubt whether, -as in England and Scotland, these feuds are to harry our -homes and our hearts for hundreds of years!</p> - -<p class='c022'>What a cause! and, thank God, what an advocate! It -would seem that our own Southern sun had warmed and -sweetened him for the work. He exactly fitted the culmination -and mission of his life. His noble soul propelled -his thoughts. His eloquence rushed from mountain-side -fountains, pure and bold and free. His reasoning was so -blended with appeal that the one took the shape of stating -truths in sequence, and his appeal seemed responsive to -the heart-beats of his listeners.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Thus the cause, the advocate and the occasion met, and -once more in New England a Southern man was applauded -as an American patriot. With the triple levers of his great -soul and mind and tongue he moved two mighty sections, -with all their weights of passions of victory and passions -<span class='pageno' id='Page_365'>365</span>of defeat, with all their weights of misconceptions and -misjudgments. With his hands he moved these mighty -bodies nearer each to the heart of the other—nearer to that -true Union for which the real heart of this country, in -every part of it, beats with the pulses of a devoted love, -never entirely to be stilled.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Oh, how nobly he must have been inspired as he felt -the “rock-ribbed and iron-bound” prejudice of New -England quiver to the touch of his magic hand; and as her -snow began to melt under the warmth of his great heart, -surely he was the sunshine of this great land!</p> - -<p class='c022'>But, oh, the grief of it—the bitter, bitter grief of it! -Just as we knew how noble and great he was, he sank -below the horizon of life, never to rise again!</p> - -<p class='c022'>I shall always recall him as dying like that lad from -Lombardy, pictured by Browning. I shall think that the -South, decked like a queen in all her jewels of glory and -of love, came to his dying couch and said:</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Thou art a Lombard, my brother! Happy art thou,” she cried,</div> - <div class='line in1'>And smiled like Italy on him. He dreamed in her face and died!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c016'>ADDRESS OF WALTER B. HILL, OF MACON, GA.</h3> -<p class='c021'>Love was the law of Henry Grady’s life. His splendid -eminence among his fellows teaches once again that “he -who follows love’s behest far exceedeth all the rest.” Its -strongest throbs beat in the inner circle of the home; but -in widening waves they expand first into friendship, then -into public spirit, then into patriotism, then into philanthropy. -When it rises above these forms of human affection -in the incense of worship—we give it once more the -sacred name of love, which it bore at its fireside shrine. -From Henry Grady’s heart, that first and best and truest -and most of all was the home-fond heart, there flowed out -in all the prodigality of his generous soul, and yet with the -perfect adjustment of due degree, all those currents of feeling -which bear so many names and yet are one. And as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_366'>366</span>he loved, so is he mourned—from the hearth of a desolated -home to the borders of a mighty nation.</p> - -<p class='c022'>What was he to his friends? I dare not answer except -to muffle my own heart in borrowed words—the words of -Carlyle over the bier of the gifted Edward Irving—“His -was the bravest, freest, brotherliest human soul mine ever -came in contact with.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>What was he to Atlanta? More than any other man, -he built this city which he rightly loved as he loved no -other. Although the feudal independence of the old -Southern life was distinctly promotive of individualism—yet -it was reserved for this young leader—but one remove -from that past generation, to give to our common country -the finest and most conspicuous type which American citizenship -has yet produced of that high civil virtue—public -spirit. It is a virtue untaught in the schools—a grace and -a duty not preached from the pulpit: and yet, as I study -its manifestations in this marvelous man whose suggestion -and sagacity planted the cornucopias of plenty amid industrial -desolation and agricultural poverty—to me it seems -far more in touch with the brotherhood of man and the -helpfulness of Christ than the benevolence which so often -degrades the recipient and the zeal which burns so fiercely -for the conversion of opinions. If the Church does not -claim it as the fruit of religion, the State may be proud to -own it as the patriotism of peace.</p> - -<p class='c022'>What was he to Georgia? We naturally think of the -material progress which he inspired throughout the State, -and all due emphasis has been accorded to it. But we -must not forget the other forms of progress to which he -was devoted. What a many-sided man he was! He spent -himself to the utmost of his wonderful resources in behalf -of the intellectual culture of the State—in the earnest but -sweet-spirited championship of that moral issue which he -declared was “the most hopeful experiment ever undertaken -in any American city,” in that magnificent tribute -to the value of her young men, which Atlanta has “writ -large” in the stately Association Building. And thus he, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_367'>367</span>whose pen seemed like the touch of Midas turning to the -gold of material wealth every interest to which it pointed, -he teaches also that imperative lesson of our needy time—that -to know and to be are greater things than to get and -to have.</p> - -<p class='c022'>What was he to the South? Let the laureate answer:</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>The voice of any people is the sword—</div> - <div class='line'>The sword that guards them or the sword that beats them down.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'>More than any other public man, he was the voice of his -people. His eloquence in magnetic speech, and that new -art his genius had created—the oratory of the editorial!—along -with the voices in literature of Joel Chandler Harris, -Thomas Nelson Page and Harry Stillwell Edwards, have -conquered a hearing at the North. In glowing utterance -and moving story, they have set forth the true and tender -pictures of the old Southern life, the sincere and single-hearted -heroism of the Confederate soldier, the cordial but -self-respecting loyalty of the South of to-day to the restored -Union. They have brought it to pass that in the contemporary -fiction of English-speaking peoples the favorite scene -is amid the old plantations, and the popular hero is the -boy that wore the gray. By these subtle forces of genius, -results have been achieved which no forensic advocacy or -party zeal could ever have accomplished. Old verdicts of -condemnation and prejudice have been reversed; and in -their stead, comprehension has come, patience is coming, -confidence will come.</p> - -<p class='c022'>For the sole but sufficient reason that the whole truth -demands it, I ought to say, that from what seemed to me -some of the implications of his public utterances I had -urged upon him my own dissent; and his letter in reply, -permitting me to differ without a discount in his sincere -esteem, is now, more than ever, one of the treasures of my -life.</p> - -<p class='c022'>His work for his people could not have been so adequately -done had office crowned his worth. His advocacy -would then have seemed professional and political. Public -<span class='pageno' id='Page_368'>368</span>station would have put limitations on him—would have -narrowed his audience. A rare lesson of his life is here—a -lesson needed especially among us whose habit has been -to associate official distinction too exclusively with public -service. The people are greater than Senate or Congress. -The official in Washington can speak only to his party. -But the audiences which Grady and his generous eulogist, -Depew, commands show that a man uncrowned with public -office can be great in public life, and perhaps thereby -do a greater work.</p> - -<p class='c022'>What was he to the Nation? Compelled by the limitations -of the hour to answer in one word, I choose this: -He it was who first taught the rising generation of the -South to bind the name of Lincoln with that of Washington -“as a sign upon their hand and a frontlet on their -brow.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>We stand face to face with a great mystery. It is the -tragedy of early death, like that of Arthur Henry Hallam, -which wrung from the sweetest singer of our time the -noblest poem of sorrow, a poem whose pages have been for -three days past luminous to me with new and richer -meaning. Accepting the evidence of consciousness in its -report of the hopes and aspirations of the human soul, -there can be but two rational hypotheses for this mystery -of an unfinished life. One has been phrased by Renan in -words like this: “There is at the heart of the universe, an -infinite fiend who has filled the hearts of his creatures with -delusions, in order that in awful mockery he may witness -the discomfiture of their despair.” The other theory has -been phrased by Martineau in words like these: “The -universe, which includes and folds us round, is the life-dwelling -of an eternal mind and an infinite love; and every -aspiration is but a prophecy of the reality in that overarching -scene where one incompleteness is rounded out in -the greatness of God.” I need not tell you which of these -faiths Henry Grady accepted, or I accept. I envy not the -man who can think that there are in this universe any -shadows dark enough to quench his sunny spirit. I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_369'>369</span>believe (turning to his picture, on the stage) oh friend of -mine! that I shall look again into that love-lit eye—that I -shall clasp once more thy generous hand!</p> - -<p class='c022'>A poet sings of the echoes of the bugle from cliff and -scar as contrasted with the impact of human influence:</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Oh, love, <i>they</i> die on your rich sky,</div> - <div class='line in2'><i>They</i> faint on hill and field and river;</div> - <div class='line'><i>Our</i> echoes roll from soul to soul</div> - <div class='line in2'>And grow forever and forever!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'>In all gratitude we can say that we are happier because -he lived; in all humility that we are better because his life -touched ours. And because this is true our children and -our fellow men shall be made happier and better; and so -the echoes of his soul, reduplicated in ten thousand hearts, -shall abide, a gladdening and beneficent force—</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Until the stars grow old,</div> - <div class='line'>And the suns grow cold,</div> - <div class='line'>And the leaves of the judgment book unfold!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<h3 class='c016'>SPEECH OF JUDGE HOWARD VAN EPPS.</h3> -<p class='c021'>Ladies and Gentlemen: The lightning brought this -message to Atlanta:</p> - -<p class='c022'>“Henry Grady spends Christmas in heaven.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>Who doubts it? What creature whom the Creator has -loved enough to suffer him to hold a Christian’s faith will -question that he is at this moment in company with the -good and great and virtuous who have preceded him? I -looked upon his face, the pitifulness of death sealed upon -it, and as I turned away with swimming eyes, I saw hidden -in a mass of flowers that loving hands had placed by his -side, these words:</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in23'>O, stainless gentleman!</div> - <div class='line'>True man, true hero, true philanthropist!</div> - <div class='line'>Thy name was “Great Heart,” honor was thy shield,</div> - <div class='line'>Thy golden motto, “Duty without fear!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c043'>And the fragrant breath around him seemed vocal with -triumphant voices, singing, “Reward without stint!” In -<span class='pageno' id='Page_370'>370</span>Athens, the home of his boyhood, a few months ago, he -said, “I am going to Sunday-school. I want to feel that I -am a boy again.” When seated there the children sang, -“Shall we gather at the river?” and he sank his face in -both his hands, and tears flooded through his fingers. O, -“Great Heart,” we know that when your eyes closed upon -the weariness of the terrestrial, they opened fearless upon -the glories of the celestial. I fancy Mr. Hill sought him -without delay, fixing upon him the earnest, penetrating -glance we know so well, but out of which the pained seriousness -has been washed away forever, exclaiming, -“Why, Henry! You? And so soon! Welcome home -to our Father’s house!” Judge Lochrane has doubtless -already repaired to his side and regaled him with a bit of -celestial humor that set the seraphs ashout with laughter. -Perhaps he has encountered by this time Mr. Lincoln and -Mr. Davis with arms interlocked, their differences all -adjusted, in wider wisdom, and has been startled to hear -them say: “We were but just now speaking of you and -of the future destiny of the American Republic. Mr. Lincoln -had just remarked that the United States were on the -threshold of a more cordial understanding and a closer -union than ever before, and Mr. Davis has just quoted your -prophetic invocation: ‘Let us resolve to crown the miracles -of the past with the spectacle of a Republic compact, -united, indissoluble in the bonds of love—loving from the -Lakes to the Gulf—the wounds of war healed in every heart -as on every hill—serene and resplendent at the summit of -human achievement and earthly glory—blazing out the -path, and making clear the way, up which all the nations -of the earth must come in God’s appointed time!’”</p> -<p class='c022'>Oh, that he who alone knew how to describe “a perfect -Christmas day,” could come back to his beloved Atlanta -and make it all clear to us—the recognitions, the employments, -the conversations, the blessedness of the redeemed. -What sort of goblet of immortal nectar—of commingled -“musk of yellow grain, of flavor of ripening fruits, fragrance -of strawberries, exquisite odor of violets, aroma of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_371'>371</span>all seasons” of the celestial year, did the angels brew out -of the material of yesterday to pledge the never-ending fellowships -of Heaven in? What sort of hug of odorous shine -did Henry get armsful of yesterday, when he flung his -hands wide apart in the presence of that Being whom he -was wont to call always in his reverent speech “the Lord -God Almighty.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>Oh, well enough for Henry! but for us only the pain of -it all, the bitter pain. I look abroad and Atlanta’s business -men seem grown suddenly older. The cry of the -newsboys—“Paper, sir?”—is almost a sob. I went late at -night into the <i>Constitution</i> building and the editors’ faces -were graver than they should be, and the composing-room -was heavy with suggestions of widowhood and orphanage.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I went into a store Christmas eve (for Henry would -not have the children neglected) and the merchant couldn’t -find anything he sought for, and said, apologetically, “I -haven’t had any sense to-day.” The pity of it! We are -bereft. Our city is desolate. We had some great public -enterprises in view, that is, Henry had, and we were going -to follow him, and overwork him, as usual.</p> - -<p class='c022'>We are disheartened—almost discouraged. Atlanta is -so young and fiery, almost fierce in her civic energy, and -pulls so hard on the reins. Who will drive for us now?</p> - -<p class='c022'>We will see more clearly after a little, when our grief -is calmer, but now as we see it through our tears, the face -and body of the times are out of joint.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I do not care, in this place and under present limitations, -to speak of his kittenish boyhood; of his idyllic -home-life; of his rollicsome and irresistible humor; of his -sympathy and prodigality of self-sacrifice; of his boundless -love to his fellow men; of his ability as a writer and super-eminence -as an orator; of his pride in Atlanta and services -in aid of her material progress; of his patriotic devotion to -the South and to the Union. I want to ask indulgence to -say one thing, which, as I believe, were he here to prescribe -my course and dictate my utterances, he would have me -say. I want to say to noble men of all parties, north and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_372'>372</span>east and west, speaking here from Grady’s bier, that the -South is no more hostile to the Union than is New -England, and that her love, and sympathy, and desire to -help the dependent class in her midst is deeper, if possible, -than the treason of political agitators who seek to foment -race prejudice to secure party supremacy. “We pledge -our lives, our property, and our sacred honor,” that we -will bring wisdom and humanity to the solution of the -grave problem in government which confronts us, and that -we “will carry in honor and peace to the end.” We -repeat again and again, in our sadness, with the sacredness -of our grief for his loss around us, the plea of -Georgia’s son, for patience, for confidence, for sympathy, -for loyalty to the Republic, devoid of suspicion and -estrangement, against any section.</p> - -<p class='c022'>We send greeting to generous New England. They -loved him and we love them for it. We have even forgiven -them for being Republicans. We throw his knightly -and Christian gauntlet at their feet. We challenge her -business men, in the name of our champion of the doctrine -of the brotherhood of men and of Americans, to the national -glory-fields of the future—to fraternal love that will forgive -errors of judgment seven times, and seventy times seven; -and to a patriotic pride in and devotion to every foot of the -soil of our magnificent Republic, that will brook no suspicions -and no wrath in all her borders except when -directed against a foreign enemy.</p> - -<hr class='c032' /> - -<p class='c022'>Professor White’s address was delivered under very -trying conditions. He had been suffering from a severe -headache all morning and, in fact, he has been unwell for -several days past. During his speech he suffered painfully, -and immediately at its conclusion he was so much overcome -as to be almost completely prostrated. He was led -from the stage to the office of Judge Will Haight, where -he remained until he recovered, leaving for home later in -the afternoon.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The address was delivered with pathos and emotion, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_373'>373</span>and that part which bore on his close relations with the -dead man touched a responsive chord in every heart in the -vast audience that sat in listening attention to the words of -love.</p> -<h3 class='c016'><span class='fss'>REMARKS OF PROF. H. C. WHITE.</span></h3> -<p class='c021'>My friends—companions in a common grief: My heart -is yet too full of sorrow’s bitterness to frame in fitting -terms the tribute I would wish to pay the gracious memory -of our beloved dead. Save she who bears my name, he -whom we buried yesterday was my dearest friend on earth. -Our friendship, born of close companionship amid academic -groves where we together caught the inspirations that come -to wakening intellects, and nursed the high resolves that -budding youth projects as guides along the future pathway -of the man, was nourished as we grew to man’s estate, and -in these latter years so closely knit by constant intercourse, -reciprocal respect each for the other’s judgment, wishes -and desires, and mutual confidences of hopes and fears, of -sacred interests and fond ambitions, that when he died a -great and fervent glow seemed gone from out of my life, and -desolation laid its icy touch upon my heart.</p> - -<p class='c022'>In recognition of these sacred ties that closely bound -our lives, I am bidden here to-day to join my grief to yours -and say a word of him who was as dear to me as man may -be to man.</p> - -<p class='c022'>How can I speak at Henry Grady’s funeral! What may -I say that others have not said; that will not, in our history, -be written; for a Nation mourns him and a continent -deplores his untimely taking off, as the passing of the -brightest hope that cheered the future of our common -country’s rehabilitated life.</p> - -<p class='c022'>That he was worthy all the homage cultured men may -pay to genius, talent, intellect, and wit, his works and -reputation that survive beyond the grave will abundantly -attest. That he was worthy all the plaudits honest men -accord to truth and justness, integrity and honor, none -dare stand here and interpose the faintest shadow of a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_374'>374</span>doubt. That he was worthy all the sacred tears that gentle -women and blessed little children may not refrain from -showering on his grave as tribute to his tenderness, his -gentleness, his abounding love for all things human, we, -who knew him best, who shared the golden flood of sunshine -his personality evoked and the sweetest, softest -harmonies of the music of his life, we come, a cloud of -witnesses, to testify.</p> - -<p class='c022'>He was truly great if earthly greatness may be measured -by the lofty aspirations men conceive for bettering their -fellow men’s estate, or by the success with which they realize -ideals. His ambition was of the sort that makes men -kings—not petty officers—and led him to aim to teach a -mighty Nation how best its glorious destiny might be -achieved. His ample view looked far beyond the narrow -policies of strife and selfishness and partisan contentions -that mark the statesmanship of lesser men, and counseled -the broader, more effective lines of peace and love, of -patience and forbearance. Had he but lived who may -doubt but that his counsels would have prevailed? This -city, which he loved so well and which he builded, stands, -in its fair proportions, the peer of any on the earth in good -and equitable government, the prosperous home of happy, -cultured freemen, as a type of what he wished his neighbors -and his fellow-countrymen might strive to make -themselves in contrast with their fellow men; worthy to -stand among the bravest and the best. Its massive walls -stand witness to his energy, his skill and his success.</p> - -<p class='c022'>He was wise, and thousands came to him for counsel. -The University—his loved and loving Alma Mater—whose -smiles had brightened the endeavors of his youth, called -him to her councils in his maturer years, and to-day she -sits upon her classic hills, a Niobe, in tears and clad in -mourning for him—chiefest among her brilliant sons; foremost -among her guardians and advisers.</p> - -<p class='c022'>He was good; and for all the thousand chords of human -emotions he played upon with facile pen and tongue of -matchless eloquence, he ever held a heart in tender sympathy -<span class='pageno' id='Page_375'>375</span>with childhood’s innocence, the mother’s love, the -lover’s passion, the maiden’s modesty, the sinner’s penitence -and the Christian’s faith.</p> - -<p class='c022'>One consolation comes to us, his sorrowing friends to-day. -Around his bier no fierce contentions wage unseemly -strife for offices left vacant by his death. He held no place -that may be filled by gift of man. He filled no office within -the power of governments or peoples to bestow. He served -the public but was no public servant. He was a private -citizen and occupied a unique position in the commonwealth, -exalted beyond the meed of patronage, won by virtue -of his individual qualities and held at pleasure of his -genius and by the grace of God.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Full well I know that, in God’s providence, no one -man’s death may halt the march of time to ultimate events -or change the increasing purpose that through the ages -runs, but this I do believe, that this man’s death has slowed -the dial of our country’s progress to full fruition of its -happiness, prosperity, and peace. To those of us who -stand in history midway between a national life our fathers -founded and wrecked in throes of revolution and of war, -and another in the future, bright with fair promises but -ill-defined as yet in form, with darkling clouds casting grim -shadows across the lines along which it must be achieved, -he was our chosen leader and our trusted champion. No -one of us will be tardy in acknowledgment that he stood -head and shoulders above us all and towered at the very -front. That time will bring a successor in the leadership -we reverently pray and confidently hope, but meanwhile -our generation is camped in bivouac by the path of history -awaiting the birth and training of another chief.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Of all his usefulness to nation, state and town; of all -that he contributed to the glory of our country’s history—the -brave defense of its unsullied past; the wise direction -of its present purposes; the high ideals of its future progress—of -these, others with equal knowledge, may speak -with greater eloquence than I. I come especially to pay a -simple tribute (time and occasion serve for nothing more) -<span class='pageno' id='Page_376'>376</span>to the man himself—my boyhood’s, manhood’s companion, -friend and lover. When on the day he died I nursed my -selfish grief within the sacred precincts of a home which he -had often beautified and rendered joyous by his presence; -in the city of his birth, among the lanes his boyish feet had -trod; amid scenes where his genius had first been plumed -to flight; where he had felt the first touch of manhood’s -aspirations and ambitions; where he had pressed his maiden -suit of sacred love; where his dead hero-father lay at rest, -and where the monumental shaft is reared to the base of -which it was his ardent hope that he might bring his son to -anoint him with the glories and the graces of a hero race—I -thought no other’s sorrow could be as keen as mine. But -lo! my neighbors shared an universal grief and draped -their homes with sable tokens of their mourning hearts; -the very children in the streets stopped in their Christmas -play and spoke in whispers as in the presence of a dread -calamity; and here, I find myself but one among a multitude -to whom that great and noble heart had given of its -gracious bounty and drawn them to himself by bonds of -everlasting love that caused their tears to flow as freely as -my own, in tribute to the sweetness, gentleness, magnetic -joyousness of him that we have lost.</p> - -<p class='c022'>He was the very embodiment of love. A loving man; a -man most lovable. Affection for his fellows welled from -out his heart and overwhelmed in copious flood all brought -within its touch. His love inspired counter-love in men of -all degree. The aged marked his coming with a brightening -smile; the young fell down and worshiped him. -Unselfishness, the chiefest virtue men may claim—it carries -all the others in its train—was possessed by him in unsurpassed -degree. His generosity passed quick and far beyond -the lines marked out by charity and overflowed the limits -fixed by prudence. In fine, the gentler graces all were -his:</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>His gentleness, his tenderness, his fair courtesy,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Were like a ring of virtues ’bout him set,</div> - <div class='line'>And God-like charity the center where all met.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'><span class='pageno' id='Page_377'>377</span>Science and religion alike declare that force is indestructible. -Some catch from one and some the other the -inspiration that gives them faith and blessed hope that that -great thing we call the Soul may live and work beyond that -accident which we call Death, which comes with all the -terrors of unfathomable mystery to free the fretting spirit -from its carnal chains.</p> - -<p class='c022'>He had no special knowledge—nor cared for none—of -scientific theory or philosophic speculation, but he had -gained from deep religious thought—not technical theology -perhaps, but true religion, the same that taught him to -“visit the widows and fatherless in their affliction and to -keep himself unspotted from the world”—he had gained -from this a deep, abiding conviction in a life beyond the -grave. That this was true I know; for often we have -talked of these great mysteries and, closeted together, have -weighed the doubts the increasing knowledge of the centuries -has brought, and I have never known a man whose -convictions were as firm, and who, frankly and squarely -meeting every doubt, retained unshaken faith with all his -heart, soul and mind.</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>He held it truth with him who sings,</div> - <div class='line'>To one clear harp in divers tones,</div> - <div class='line'>That men <i>must</i> rise on stepping-stones</div> - <div class='line'>Of their dead selves to higher things.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'>How far this faith held him in loyalty to churchly -creed—the necessary corollary of such faith as his—others -are more competent than I to tell.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Great Spirit—that which was loose but yesterday from -mortal tenement we sadly laid to rest—thy sorrowing -friends send after thee, along the shimmering lines that -guide thy flight from earth to glory, this fervent prayer—tempering -our agony and comforting our desolation—that -God, in His infinite wisdom, may count thy faith deserving -such reward in Heaven as we would measure to thy works -on earth.</p> - -<p class='c022'>God rest thee, princely gentlemen! God keep thee, -peerless friend!</p> - -<p class='c023'><span class='pageno' id='Page_378'>378</span>When Mr. Graves was introduced, the audience broke -into applause. His fame as an orator, and his intimate -friendship with Mr. Grady were known, and his eloquent -tribute to his dead friend moved the hearts of his hearers -as they had seldom by words been moved before. Upon -being introduced by Mayor Glenn, Mr. Graves said:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>SPEECH OF HON. JOHN TEMPLE GRAVES.</h3> -<p class='c021'>I am one among the thousands who loved him, and I -stand with the millions who lament his death.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I loved him in the promise of his glowing youth, when, -across my boyish vision he walked with winning grace, from -easy effort to success. I loved him in the flush of splendid -manhood when a Nation hung upon his words—and now, -with the dross of human friendship smitten in my soul—I -love him best of all as he lies yonder under the December -skies, with face as tranquil and with smile as sweet as -patrial ever wore.</p> - -<p class='c022'>In this sweet and solemn hour all the rare and kindly -adjectives that blossomed in the shining pathway of his pen, -seem to have come from every quarter of the continent to -lay themselves in loving tribute at their master’s feet; but -rich as the music that they bring, all the cadences of our -eulogy</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Sigh for the touch of a vanished hand,</div> - <div class='line'>And the sound of a voice that is still.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'>And here to-day, within this hall glorified by the echoes -of his eloquence, standing to answer the impulse of my -heart in the roll-call of his friends, and stricken with my -emptiness of words, I know that, when the finger of God -touched his eyelids into sleep, there gathered a silence -upon the only lips that could weave the sunbright story -of his days, or mete sufficient eulogy to the incomparable -richness of his life.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I agree with Patrick Collins that he was the most brilliant -son of this Republic. If the annals of these times are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_379'>379</span>told with truth, they will give him place as the phenomenon -of his period, the Admirable Crichton of the age in which -he lived. No eloquence has equaled his since Sargent -Prentiss faded from the earth. No pen has plowed such -noble furrow in his country’s fallow fields since the wrist -of Horace Greeley rested; no age of the Republic has witnessed -such marvelous conjunction of a magical pen with -the velvet splendor of a mellow tongue, and although the -warlike rival of these wondrous forces never rose within -his life, it is writ of all his living, that the noble fires of his -genius were lighted in his boyhood from the gleam that -died upon his father’s sword.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I have loved to follow, and I love to follow now the -pathway of that diamond pen as it flashed like an inspiration -over every phase of life in Georgia. It touched the -sick body of a desolate and despairing agriculture with the -impulse of a better method, and the farmer, catching the -glow of promise in his words, left off sighing and went to -singing in his fields, until at last the better day has come, -and as the sunshine melts into his harvests with the tender -rain, the heart of humanity is glad in his hope and the -glow on his fields seems the smile of the Lord. Its brave -point went with cheerful prophecy and engaging manliness -into the ranks of toil, until the workman at his anvil felt -the dignity of labor pulse the somber routine of the hours, -and the curse of Adam softening in the faith of silver sentences, -became the blessing and the comfort of his days. -Into the era of practical politics it dashed with the grace -of an earlier chivalry, and in an age of pushing and unseemly -scramble, it woke the spirit of a loftier sentiment, -while around the glow of splendid narrative and the charm -of entrancing plea there grew a goodlier company of youth, -linked to the Republic’s nobler legends and holding fast -that generous loyalty which builds the highest bulwark of -the State.</p> - -<p class='c022'>First of all the instruments which fitted his genius to -expression was this radiant pen. Long after it had blazed -his way to eminence and usefulness, he waked the power -<span class='pageno' id='Page_380'>380</span>of that surpassing oratory which has bettered all the sentiment -of his country and enriched the ripe vocabulary of -the world. Nothing in the history of human speech will -equal the stately steppings of his eloquence into glory. In -a single night he caught the heart of the country into its -warm embrace, and leaped from a banquet revelry into -national fame. It is, at last, the crowning evidence of his -genius, that he held to the end, unbroken, the high fame -so easily won, and sweeping from triumph unto triumph, -with not one leaf of his laurels withered by time or staled -by circumstance, died on yesterday—the foremost orator -of all the world.</p> - -<p class='c022'>It is marvelous, past all telling how he caught the heart -of the country in the fervid glow of his own! All the -forces of our statesmanship have not prevailed for union -like the ringing speeches of this bright, magnetic man. -His eloquence was the electric current over which the positive -and negative poles of American sentiment were rushing -to a warm embrace. It was the transparent medium -through which the bleared eyes of sections were learning -to see each other clearer and to love each other better. He -was melting bitterness in the warmth of his patrial sympathies, -sections were being linked in the logic of his liquid -sentences, and when he died he was literally loving a -Nation into peace.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Fit and dramatic climax to a glorious mission, that he -should have lived to carry the South’s last and greatest -message to the center of the Nation’s culture, and then, -with the gracious answer to his transcendent service locked -in his loyal heart, come home to die among the people -he had served! Fitter still, that, as he walked in final -triumph through the streets of his beloved city, he should -have caught upon his kingly head that wreath of Southern -roses—richer jewels than Victoria wears—plucked by the -hands of Georgia women, borne by the hands of Georgia -men, and flung about him with a loving tenderness -that crowned him for his burial, that, in the unspeakable -fragrance of Georgia’s full and sweet approval, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_381'>381</span>he might “draw the drapery of his couch about him, and -lie down to pleasant dreams.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>If I should seek to touch the core of all his greatness, I -would lay my hand upon his heart. I should speak of his -humanity—his almost inspired sympathies, his sweet -philanthropy and the noble heartfulness that ran like a -silver current through his life. His heart was the furnace -where he fashioned all his glowing speech. Love was the -current that sent his golden sentences pulsing through the -world, and in the honest throb of human sympathies he -found the anchor that held him steadfast to all things -great and true. He was the incarnate triumph of a heartful -man.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I thank God, as I stand above my buried friend, that -there is not one ignoble memory in all the shining pathway -of his fame! In all the glorious gifts that God Almighty -gave him, not one was ever bent to willing service in -unworthy cause. He lived to make the world about him -better. With all his splendid might he helped to build a -happier, heartier and more wholesome sentiment among -his kind. And in fondness, mixed with reverence, I believe -that the Christ of Calvary, who died for men, has found a -welcome sweet for one who fleshed within his person the -golden spirit of the New Commandment and spent his -powers in glorious living for his race.</p> - -<p class='c022'>O brilliant and incomparable Grady! We lay for a -season thy precious dust beneath the soil that bore and -cherished thee, but we fling back against all our brightening -skies the thoughtless speech that calls thee dead! -God reigns and his purpose lives, and although these brave -lips are silent here, the seeds sown in this incarnate -eloquence will sprinkle patriots through the years to come, -and perpetuate thy living in a race of nobler men!</p> - -<p class='c022'>But all our words are empty, and they mock the air. -If we would speak the eulogy that fills this day, let us -build within this city that he loved, a monument tall as -his services, and noble as the place he filled. Let every -Georgian lend a hand, and as it rises to confront in majesty -<span class='pageno' id='Page_382'>382</span>his darkened home, let the widow who weeps there be told -that every stone that makes it has been sawn from the solid -prosperity that he builded, and that the light which plays -upon its summit is, in afterglow, the sunshine that he -brought into the world.</p> - -<p class='c022'>And for the rest—silence. The sweetest thing about his -funeral was that no sound broke the stillness, save the -reading of the Scriptures and the melody of music. No -fire that can be kindled upon the altar of speech can relume -the radiant spark that perished yesterday. No blaze born -in all our eulogy can burn beside the sunlight of his useful -life. After all there is nothing grander than such -living.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I have seen the light that gleamed at midnight from the -headlight of some giant engine rushing onward through the -darkness, heedless of opposition, fearless of danger, and I -thought it was grand. I have seen the light come over the -eastern hills in glory, driving the lazy darkness like mist -before a sea-born gale, till leaf and tree, and blade of grass -glittered in the myriad diamonds of the morning ray; and -I thought it was grand.</p> - -<p class='c022'>I have seen the light that leaped at midnight athwart -the storm-swept sky, shivering over chaotic clouds, mid -howling winds, till cloud and darkness and the shadow-haunted -earth flashed into mid-day splendor, and I knew -it was grand. But the grandest thing, next to the radiance -that flows from the Almighty Throne, is the light of a -noble and beautiful life, wrapping itself in benediction -’round the destinies of men, and finding its home in the -blessed bosom of the Everlasting God!</p> -<h3 class='c016'>SPEECH OF GOVERNOR GORDON.</h3> -<p class='c021'>Mr. Chairman and Fellow-Citizens: The news of Henry -Grady’s death reached me at a quiet country retreat in a -distant section of the State. The grief of that rural community, -as deep and sincere as the shock produced by his -death was great and unexpected, told more feelingly and -eloquently than any words of mine possibly can, the universality -<span class='pageno' id='Page_383'>383</span>of the love and admiration of all her people for -Georgia’s peerless son.</p> - -<p class='c022'>It is no exaggeration to say that the humblest and the -highest, the poorest and richest—all classes, colors and -creeds, with an unspeakable sorrow, mourn his death as a -public calamity. It is no exaggeration to say that no man -lives who can take his place. It is no extravagant eulogy -to declare that scarcely any half-dozen men, by their combined -efforts, can fill in all departments the places which -he filled in his laborious and glorious life.</p> - -<p class='c022'>His wonderful intellect, enabling him, without apparent -effort, to master the most difficult and obtuse public questions, -and to treat them with matchless grace and power; -his versatile genius, which made him at once the leader in -great social reforms, as well as in gigantic industrial movements—that -genius which made him at once the eloquent -advocate, the logical expounder, the wise organizer, the -vigorous executive—all these rich and unrivaled endowments, -justify in claiming for him a place among the greatest -and most gifted of this or any age.</p> - -<p class='c022'>But splendid as were his intellectual abilities, it is the -boundless generosity of his nature, his sweet and loving -spirit, his considerate and tender charity, exhaustless as a -fountain of living waters, refreshing and making happy all -hearts around him, these are the characteristics on which -I love most to dwell. It is no wonder that his splendid -genius attracted the gaze and challenged the homage of the -continent. It is perhaps even a less wonder that a man -with such boundless sympathies for his fellow men and so -prodigal with his own time and talent and money in the -service of the public, should be so universally and tenderly -loved.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The career of Henry Grady is more than unique. It -constitutes a new chapter in human experience. No private -citizen in the whole eventful history of this Republic -ever wore a chaplet so fadeless or linked his name so surely -with deathless immortality. His name as a journalist and -orator, his brilliant and useful life, his final crowning -<span class='pageno' id='Page_384'>384</span>triumph, especially the circumstances of martyrdom surrounding -his death, making it like that of the giant of -holy writ, as we trust, more potential than ever in intellectual -prowess of magic of the living man—all these will -conspire not more surely to carry his fame to posterity, -than will his deeds of charity and ready responses to those -who needed his effective help, serve to endear to our hearts -and memories, as long as life shall last, the memory of -Henry W. Grady.</p> - -<hr class='c044' /> - -<p class='c018'>Governor Gordon’s tribute was the last of the sad -occasion.</p> - -<p class='c018'>At its conclusion Dr. H. C. Morrison pronounced the -benediction, and the curtain was drawn on the final public -exercises of the most memorable funeral service the South -has ever known.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But the memory of the loved and illustrious dead will -linger long with his bereaved people.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_385'>385</span> - <h2 class='c012'>MEMORIAL MEETING AT MACON, GA.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>A GRADY Memorial Meeting was held at Macon, Ga., -on the evening of Thursday, December 26, 1889. The -Academy of Music was filled with an assemblage of citizens -of all classes. The meeting was called to order by Mr. F. -H. Richardson, and the exercises were opened with an -impressive prayer by Rev. T. R. Kendall, pastor of Mulberry -Street Church. In announcing the object of the meeting, -Mr. Richardson, who presided, said:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>ADDRESS OF MR. RICHARDSON.</h3> -<p class='c021'>Fellow-Citizens: We have assembled to-night to honor -the memory of a good and useful man; to express our -sincere regrets that death has closed a high career in the -meridian of its splendor; to voice our sympathy with the -grief which this public loss has carried to every part of our -State.</p> - -<p class='c022'>This is an occasion without precedent in the history of -Macon. Never before have its people given such tribute to -the memory of a private citizen. But when has such a -private citizen lived, when has such a one died in Georgia? -In speaking of my dear, dead friend I trust I do not pass -the bounds of exact and proper statement when I say that -there was not within the limits of these United States any -man unburdened by office, unadorned by the insignia -of triumphs in the fields of war, or the arena of politics, -whose death would have been so generally deplored as is -that of Henry W. Grady. It will be our privilege and -pleasure to hear testimony of his genius and his virtues -from the representatives of five organizations; the Press, -the Chamber of Commerce of Macon, the resident alumni -<span class='pageno' id='Page_386'>386</span>of the State University, the City Government, and the Chi -Phi Fraternity. Each of these has good reason to honor -the memory of Henry Grady. The press can fashion no -eulogy richer than his desert, for his was the most illustrious -pen that has flashed in Southern journalism during -this generation. The Chamber of Commerce cannot -accord him too much praise, for, though himself unskilled -in the science of trade, he was the chief promoter of -public enterprise in his city and set an example worthy -the emulation of any man whose ambition looks to the promotion -of commercial and industrial progress. Surely the -Alumni of the State University should honor him, for he -was the most famous man who has left the classic halls of -Athens in many a year. It is well that the City Government -joins in this general tribute to the lamented dead. -He led his own city to high ideals and to large achievements. -He preached the gospel of liberality as well as the -creed of progress. While his devotion to his own city was -supreme, from his lips there fell no word of scorn or malice -for any other community. Let us emulate the catholicity -of his patriotism. Atlanta was its central force and fire, -but it extended to all Georgia, to all these States and, -passing beyond the boundaries of his own county, was -transformed into a love for all mankind. The Chi Phi -Fraternity had much cause to love Henry Grady. Only -those of us who know the full meaning of the mystic bonds -of that brotherhood can appreciate the ardor and enthusiasm -of his devotion to it. There was that in him which -was nobler and worthier of commemoration than even his -radiant genius. Powerful as he was with the pen, persuasive -as he was in his masterful control of the witchery of -eloquence, fascinating as was his personality, he had a still -better claim to honor than could be founded on these distinctions. -After all, the best fame is that which, though -not sought, is won by goodness, charity, and brotherly -love. Leigh Hunt’s Abou Ben Adhem is lovelier than the -mightiest of the Moorish Kings. Henry Grady concerned -himself to do good unto others. He kindled the fire on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_387'>387</span>cold hearth stones, he cared for the sick and the forsaken, -he visited the prisoner, he carried consolation to the desolate. -His works of mercy, tenderness, and love do live -after him, and they are the crowning beauty of his work in -this world. The tear of gratitude that trickles down the -cheek of the orphan is a purer jewel than ever sparkled in -the crown of political fame. The simple thanks of the -friendless and oppressed make sweeter music to the soul -than the applause of senates. These priceless rewards were -showered upon him in recognition of many an untold deed -of charity and grace. His life has been concluded when, -according to human wisdom, it seemed most desirable that -he should linger among the walks of men. Silence has set -its seal on his eloquent lips when their words seemed -sweetest. His great, tender heart has been hushed forever, -when from the life it quickened there were going forth -influences of large and increasing beneficence.</p> - -<hr class='c044' /> - -<p class='c018'>Capt. <span class='sc'>J. L. Hardeman</span> was then introduced, and he -read the following resolutions framed by the committee -from the meeting of the various bodies held last Tuesday:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>RESOLUTIONS.</h3> - -<p class='c021'>The death of Henry Grady is a great blow to the hopes of the South. -He had become one of the foremost men of the day in her behalf. His -leadership was as unique as it was controlling. He held no office, he -sought no preferment, and yet he was a leader. History furnishes but -few examples like this, none that can excel him in the sublime usefulness -of his career. His patriotism was so lofty that one cannot measure -it by the standards of the hour. His soul was filled to running over -with a deep love for his people and the sufferings they had endured, -and those to which fanaticism might expose them. This love was his -inspiration. It moved, it commanded the largest exercise of his versatile -genius under an infinite variety of circumstances. And in all of -these, whether as editor, writer, orator or citizen, he buried far out of -sight every consideration of self and wrought for the people’s good. -And his work was on a plane as exalted as his highest aspirations. No -taint of gain ever touched his hand; no surrender of principle ever -marred the colors of the banner he bore. What though in a passing -moment he may have differed with others upon minor matters, yet in -all the great and burning questions which so vitally concern the people -<span class='pageno' id='Page_388'>388</span>of the South and of the Union, he was abreast and ahead of nearly all -others. In his life every element of success was materialized, an -energy as untiring as the tides of the sea; a courage like the eagle’s -that gazes with eye undimmed upon the glare of the noonday sun; a -genius so comprehensive that it grasped with equal facility the smallest -detail and the broadest of human issues, and above all, a patriotism -pure, heroic, unsectional, drawing its inspiration from the sacred fountain -head of American liberty, and spreading its benign influence -wherever the Constitution is obeyed and the rights of mankind respected. -And thus he worked in the fore front till death overtook -him. In this hour of mourning, how heavily do we feel his loss. The -great purpose of life was just planned out. The certainty of its fulfillment -could rest alone with him. To lead his people onward and upward -through all the harassing difficulties which beset them to the full -fruition of constitutional liberty in its widest meaning, was his purpose. -Not alone by his splendid oratory did he seek to attain this end; to this -end he devoted his pen as an editor, and to this end he also devoted -those beautiful traits of his private character, which made him loved -by all who knew him. His unfinished work is yet to be accomplished. -The young Moses of the Southland is gone, and may the people not -wander from his teachings. The people of Macon assembled to do -honor to the illustrious dead</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolve</i>, That in the death of Henry W. Grady, the State of Georgia -has lost one of her noblest sons, the Union a man who was a patriotic -lover of constitutional liberty.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolve</i>, That in the death of Henry W. Grady, the city of Atlanta -has been deprived of a noble, energetic and unselfish citizen, who was -devoted to her interests.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolve</i>, That we tender our sympathies as a people to the family of -the deceased, and that a copy of these resolutions be forwarded to -them.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-l c045'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>John L. Hardeman</span>, }</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>W. W. Collins</span>, } <i>Committee</i>.</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Washington Dessau</span>, }</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c023'>In moving the adoption of the resolutions, he said:</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Chairman: In moving the adoption of this, the -report of your committee, I can but say that to-night -emphasizes the words of Jerusalem’s King: “A good -name is better than precious ointment, and the day of -death than the day of one’s birth.” Death came to him -as a benediction that followed a sacrifice. Warned by his -physician that he was ill, cavalier of the South alone he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_389'>389</span>marched to battle for her, uninspired by the enthusiasm -of a battle array, yet within cannon shot of Bunker Hill, -and where he could feel the spray from Plymouth Rock, -he fought a gallant fight for us, and leaving the field victor, -amidst the plaudits of those he had conquered, he -hastened home to complete his sacrifice; and the same -angel that bade him leave this world spoke not only to the -soul of Henry W. Grady, but to all the people North and -South: “Peace, be still.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The resolutions were unanimously adopted by a rising -vote.</p> - -<hr class='c032' /> - -<p class='c018'>Professor <span class='sc'>G. R. Glenn</span> was then introduced and read -the following preamble and resolution on the part of the -committee of alumni:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>ALUMNI RESOLUTIONS.</h3> - -<p class='c021'>It is no ordinary occasion that calls us together. That was no -ordinary light that went out in the gray mists of early dawn. It was -no ordinary life that has so suddenly and so strangely come down to -its close. To those of us who were University students with him, who -knew his University career, the story of his splendid accomplishments -has more than ordinary significance, and the heart-breaking tragedy of -his sudden taking off a profound meaning.</p> - -<p class='c022'>We had a personal sympathy in every stride of his struggling manhood: -we carried a personal pride to every wonderful achievement of -his growing genius: we hailed with fraternal joy every popular triumph -of his intellectual prowess; we joined in every glad shout that -told how victoriously his unselfish love was commanding sway over -the American heart; and when he is stricken down we bow our heads -in sorrow, as only those can who know the sources from which he -drew the inspirations of his life.</p> - -<p class='c022'>He came from the University of Georgia in those palmy days from -’66 to ’72, when Lipscomb and Mell and W. L. Brown and Waddell -and Rutherford and Charbonnier and Jones and Smead—names that -some of us will teach our boys to pronounce tenderly and reverently—were -at their greatest and best. In this company gathered here are -those who know the meaning and the moulding power of great character -builders like these. The great soul of the venerable Chancellor -Lipscomb, that grand arch priest of higher learning, made its impress -on the soul of the young man at Athens. Some of us can trace that -impress, and the impress of the University of those days, through all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_390'>390</span>his after life down to that Boston speech, aye, even to the delirium of -that last sickness, when his thought was for others rather than of -himself.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Moulded to be generous, broad-minded, tolerant, unselfish, magnanimous, -aspiring, noble, who may tell us what climax this divinely -gifted, sunny soul might not have reached if his rich and kingly life -might have been spared to his race. The education that he received -was an evolution of the best and most royal in manhood. It was -fashioned on this pattern—the germ thoughts of his life took root in -his home and branched out to his friends, overshadowed this city, -sent their far-reaching and strengthening arms over every portion of -his State, and then towered grandly above his section. Yea, and had -began to bear fruit for the healing of the nation, when alas, alas, an -inscrutable Providence cuts him down. But, thank God, that matchless -tongue, now silent forever, was not hushed till, above Atlanta, -above Georgia, above the South, above the whole country, the undying -eloquence of that Boston speech rose in majestic waves over city, -state, section and country, and sent the far-thrilling echoes into the -eternal depths of our common humanity. There it is—from his home, -through the university life, through the splendid work in his editorial -chair, on the rostrum, in every forward movement of his soul to -that last grand plea to the national heart, and down into the delirium -of the death chamber, it is the evolution of the noblest and the best. -The heart that made the sunniest home in Atlanta warmed everything -it touched, from the son of the Puritan on Plymouth Rock, to the -grey-haired old freedman that goes with tottering step and slow to join -old master and old missus behind the sunset hills.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The University has sent out many sons who have honored her in -filling large places in the history of our State and country. Hill and -Stephens and Toombs, the Cobbs, and Jacksons, and Lumpkins, and -Crawfords, and Gordons, and a long line of immortal names, have illustrated -her worth in the professions, in the field, and in the forum. Of -the many bright and brightening names of her younger sons, the name -of Grady easily led all the rest, and now that he is gone, the almost -universal cry is, who among those that are left is great enough to fill -his place. In the words of one who had much to do in moulding his -intellectual life: “Ulysses is away on his wandering and there is none -left in Ithaca strong enough to bend his bow.”</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolved</i>, That in the death of Henry W. Grady the Alumni of the -University of Georgia have lost from their ranks a man who illustrated -the best that comes from University education.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolved</i>, That his career furnishes to our young men a shining example -of one who, choosing his life-work, loved it with an unwavering -love, believed in it with an unalterable and tireless devotion and reached -success and eminence before he had rounded two-score years.</p> - -<p class='c022'><span class='pageno' id='Page_391'>391</span><i>Resolved</i>, That we recognize and commend the unselfish and generous -love of our brother for his own race and for the human race—a -love that was so warm and genial that it won men to him as if by -magic. Here was the motive power that developed and drove his -great brain. Here was the “open sesame” that unlocked for him -those treasure-houses of grand thoughts for humanity that are forever -barred to cold-hearted and self-seeking men.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolved</i>, That we very tenderly and lovingly commend to our -Heavenly Father the loved ones about his own hearthstone. We cannot -understand this blow, but we bow in submission to the Judge of all -the earth, who will do right.</p> - -<p class='c022'><i>Resolved</i>, That copies of this preamble and resolutions be furnished -to his family, and to the Macon and Atlanta papers for publication.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-l c045'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>G. R. Glenn</span>, }</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>W. B. Hill</span>, } <i>Committee</i>.</div> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Washington Dessau</span>, }</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c023'>These resolutions were also unanimously adopted.</p> - -<hr class='c032' /> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. John T. Boifeuillet, representing the press of Macon, -spoke as follows:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>ADDRESS OF MR. BOIFEUILLET.</h3> -<p class='c021'>Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen: The silver cord -is loosed, the golden bowl is broken, and the most brilliant -light in American journalism is veiled in darkness. The -crystal spirit has returned to the bright realm from whence -it came, as an evangel of peace, hope and mercy.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The star was rapidly ascending to the zenith of its -greatest brilliancy and magnitude when suddenly it disappeared -below the horizon, but across the journalistic -firmament of the country it has left an effulgent track -whose reflection illuminates the world.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Henry Grady’s sun-bright intellect shone with a splendor -that dazzled the eyes of men, and made luminous the pages -traced by his magnetic pen. The cold type sparkled with -the fires of his genius. His writings breathed a spirit of -sweetness and good-will. They were inspired by lofty purposes -and earnest endeavor, free from all suspicion of selfishness -or insincerity. No shadow of doubt fell across the -sunshine of his truth.</p> - -<p class='c022'><span class='pageno' id='Page_392'>392</span>Wherever a sunbeam wandered, or a tear-drop glistened; -wherever a perishing life trod upon the ebbing tide; wherever -beauty sat garlanded, or grief repined, there Grady -was, singing his loves and binding rainbow hopes around -the darkest despair. His harp was strung in harmony with -the chords of the human heart.</p> - -<p class='c022'>When God in his eternal council conceived the thought -of man’s creation, he called to him the three ministers who -wait constantly upon the throne, Justice, Truth, and Mercy, -and thus addressed them: “Shall we make man?” Then -said Justice: “O God, make him not, for he will trample -upon the laws.” Truth made answer also: “O God, make -him not, for he will pollute the sanctuaries.” But Mercy, -dropping upon her knees, and looking up through her -tears, exclaimed: “O God, make him—and I will watch -over him with my care through all the dark paths which -he may have to tread!” Then God made man, and said -to him: “O man, thou art the child of Mercy; go and deal -with thy brother.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>So, Henry Grady, a ministering angel of mercy on earth, -faithfully tried, throughout his life, in his conduct toward -his fellow-man, to follow the Divine injunction given at -man’s creation morn. His pen was never dipped in malice -or bitterness, but was always lifted in behalf of charity, -love and kindness; in behalf of progress, industry and -enterprise; in behalf of the South and her institutions—his -State and her people.</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>For every heart he had a tone,</div> - <div class='line'>Could make its pulses all his own.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'>Some men burst to shatters by their own furious notion, -others in the course of nature simply cease to shine; some -dart through the period of their existence like meteors -through the sky, leaving as little impression behind and -having with it a connection equally as slight, while others -enter it so thoroughly that the time becomes identified -with them. To this latter class belonged Henry Grady.</p> - -<p class='c022'>His pen improved the agriculture of the South; it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_393'>393</span>advanced the material interest and substantial growth of -Georgia; it advocated industrial training for the youths -and maidens of the land; it developed the poetry of the -State; it elevated the morals of men and purified their -character; it created noble aspirations in the human heart; -it implanted seeds of benevolence, charity and liberality; -it taught the lesson of self-abnegation and forgiveness; it -inculcated principles of patriotism and love of country; it -softened animosities between the North and South, and -clasped the hands of the two sections in fraternal greeting. -His pen built Atlanta, it aided in building up Georgia; it -established expositions that were a credit to the State and -a glory to her people; it accumulated by one editorial -$85,000 for the erection of a Y. M. C. A. building; it collected -the fund for the erection of the Confederate soldiers’ -home, which will ever stand as a monument to his patriotism -and fidelity. When winter clasped Atlanta in its icy -embrace, and the poor were suffering from hunger and cold, -his pleading pen made the God-favored people of that city, -who sat within places of wealth and comfort, by glowing -fires and bountifully laden tables, hear the wail of the -orphan and the cry of the widow; purse-strings were -unfastened, cold hearts thawed under the magnetic -warmth of his melting pathos, and in a few hours there -was not an empty larder or a fireless home among the poor -of Georgia’s great capital. Whether engaged in making -governors and senators, or preparing a Christmas dinner -for newsboys, whether occupied in building a church or -forming a Chautauqua; whether constructing a railroad or -erecting some eleemosynary institution, his pen was powerful -and his influence potent. It has left its impress upon -the tablets of the world’s memory, and the name of Henry -Grady, the great pacificator, will live in song and story -until the sundown of time.</p> - -<p class='c022'>According to a contemporary, Henry Grady, while a -beardless student at college, wrote a letter to the Atlanta -<i>Constitution</i>, which was his first newspaper experience. -The sparkle and dash of the communication so pleased the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_394'>394</span>editor of the paper, that when the first press convention -after the war was tendered a ride over the State road, the -editor telegraphed his boyish correspondent, who had then -returned to his home in Athens, that he wished to have him -represent the <i>Constitution</i> on that trip, and write up the -country and its resources along the line of the road. Mr. -Grady accepted the commission, and of all the hundreds of -letters written on the occasion, his, over the signature of -“King Hans,” were most popular and most widely copied. -He became editor and one of the proprietors of the Rome -<i>Daily Commercial</i>, a sprightly, newsy, and enterprising -journal. Rome, however, was at that time too small to -support a daily paper on such a scale, and in 1872 Mr. -Grady purchased an interest in the Atlanta <i>Herald</i>. Here -he found room and opportunity for his soaring wings, and -the <i>Herald</i> became one of the most brilliant papers ever -published in Georgia. In 1876 he became connected with -the <i>Constitution</i>. By this time his editorial abilities had -made him many friends at home and abroad, and James -Gordon Bennett at once made him the Southern representative -of the New York <i>Herald</i>. On this journal Mr. -Grady did some of the best work of his life. He rapidly -regained all that he had lost in his ventures, and in 1880 -purchased a fourth interest in the <i>Constitution</i>, taking the -position of managing editor, which he held at the time of -his death. His career in that capacity is a matter of proud -and brilliant history. He had just commenced an interesting -series of valuable letters to the <i>New York Ledger</i> when -he was stricken down with fatal sickness, even while the -plaudits of the admiring multitude were ringing in his ears -and the press of the country was singing his praises.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The last editorial Grady wrote was the beautiful and -soulful tribute on the death of Jefferson Davis; and on the -eve of Mr. Grady’s departure from Atlanta for Boston he -sounded the bugle-call for funds to help erect a monument -to the peerless champion of the “Lost Cause.” How -strange, indeed, that the illustrious leader and sage of the -Old South and the brilliant and fearless apostle of the New -<span class='pageno' id='Page_395'>395</span>South, should pass away so near together. Ben Hill died, -and his place has never been supplied in Georgia. Mr. -Grady approached nearer to it than any other man. Now -Grady is gone, and his duplicate cannot be found in the -State. Society was blessed by his living and his State -advanced by his usefulness and excellence.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Like the great Cicero, who, when quitting Rome, took -from among his domestic divinities the ivory statue of -Minerva, the protectress of Rome, and consecrated it in the -temple, to render it inviolable to the spoilers, so Henry -Grady, when leaving his college halls to enter upon a brilliant -life in the journalistic world, took with him to the -oracles the statue of pure thought, and after its consecration, -to protect and preserve it in his bosom, it became to -him a shield and buckler. Thus armed he went forward to -the battle of life, determined to do his whole duty to his -country, his God and truth. How well he succeeded, the -voice of admiring humanity proclaims, and the angels of -heaven have recorded. He vanquished all opposition and -waved his triumphant banner over every field of conflict.</p> - -<p class='c022'>His thoughts were sparks struck from the mind of -Deity, immortal in their character and duration. They -were active, energizing, beautiful, and refined. His mind -was like a precious bulb, putting forth its shoots and blooming -its flowers, warmed by the sunshine and watered by the -showers. It was like a beautiful blade, burnished and -brightened, and as it flashed in the sunlight it mirrored his -kingly soul and knightly spirit.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Looking back at the ages that have rolled by in the -revolutions of time, what have we remaining of the past -but the thoughts of men? Where is magnificent Babylon -with her palaces, her artificial lakes and hanging gardens -that were the pride and luxury of her vicious inhabitants; -where is majestic Nineveh, that proud mistress of the East -with her monuments of commercial enterprise and prosperity? -Alas! they are no more. Tyre, that great city, -into whose lap the treasures of the world were poured, she -too is no more. The waves of the sea now roll where once -<span class='pageno' id='Page_396'>396</span>stood the immense and sumptuous palaces of Tyrian wealth. -Temples, arches and columns may crumble to pieces and be -swept into the sea of oblivion; nature may decay and races -of men come and go like the mists of the morning before -the rising sun, but the proud monuments of Henry Grady’s -mind will survive the wrecks of matter and the shocks of -time.</p> - -<p class='c022'>On the Piedmont heights peacefully sleeps the freshness -of the heart of the New South, cut down in the grandeur -of his fame and in the meridian of his powers, in the glory -of his life and in the richest prime of his royal manhood. -His brow is wreathed with laurel. Costly marble will -mark the place of his head, and beautiful flowers bloom at -his feet. There the birds will carol their vespers, and -gentle breezes breathe fragrance o’er his grave. The sun in -his dying splendor, ere sinking to rest amid the clouds that -veil the “golden gate,” will linger to kiss the majestic -monument reared by loving hearts, and with a flood of -beauty bathe it in heavenly glory. And then the blush -fades, even as it fades from the face of a beautiful woman. -Shadows begin to climb the hillside, and nature sleeps, -lulled by the soft music of the singing wind. The stars, the -bright forget-me-nots of the angels, come out to keep their -vigils o’er the sleeping dust of him whose soul hath gone</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>To that fair land upon whose strand</div> - <div class='line'>No wind of winter moans.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c044' /> -<p class='c018'>Major J. F. Hanson, as the representative of the Chamber -of Commerce, said:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>ADDRESS OF MAJOR HANSON.</h3> -<p class='c021'>It would be impossible at this short distance in point of -time from the final struggle in which Mr. Grady yielded -up his life, to form a just estimate of his character, his -attainments and his work. These have passed into history, -and will survive the mournful demonstrations of his people, -because of their loss in his sudden and unexpected death.</p> - -<p class='c022'>To many of you he was personally known, while, with -<span class='pageno' id='Page_397'>397</span>the people of Georgia, his name was a household word. In -his chosen profession he will rank with Lamar and Watterson. -With these exceptions, in the field of Southern journalism, -he was without a rival or a peer, while, as an orator, -his brilliant efforts had attracted the attention and won the -plaudits of the entire country.</p> - -<p class='c022'>His speeches before the New England Society, at Dallas, -Texas, Augusta, Georgia, the University of Virginia, and -finally at Boston, constitute the record upon which must -rest his claim to statesmanship.</p> - -<p class='c022'>While the people of the South, with one voice, approve -the purpose manifested in these matchless efforts to maintain -the supremacy of the Anglo-Saxon in the public affairs -of this section, there are differences of opinion with reference -to the methods, which, by implication at least, he -was supposed to have approved, for the accomplishment of -this purpose. If, at this point, there was real or apparent -conflict with the broad spirit of nationalism, for which at -other times he pleaded so often and so eloquently, it is but -fair to attribute it to the supreme conviction on his part -that, through white supremacy in the South, by whatever -means maintained, this end was to be secured.</p> - -<p class='c022'>However we may differ with reference to the methods -which, as a last alternative, he would have employed, or -their final effect upon the institutions of our country, we -recognize the great purpose which inspired his efforts in -our behalf. Because this is true, the people of the South -will keep his memory green, whatever the opinion of the -world may be with reference to this question.</p> - -<p class='c022'>In the material development of the South, and her -future prosperity, power and glory, his faith was complete. -He labored without interruption during his entire career to -promote these great results, and impressed himself upon -his section in its new growth and new life, more than any -man of his time. The wonderful growth of his own city -was due to the broad liberality and supreme confidence in -its future with which he inspired the people of Atlanta.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Phenomenal as his career has been during the past few -<span class='pageno' id='Page_398'>398</span>years, he had not reached the zenith of his powers, and -what he accomplished gave promise of greater achievements -which the future had in store for him, of increasing -fame, and for his State a richer heritage in his name. It -is doubtful if he fully understood, or had ever tested to -the limit his power as an orator. As occasion increased -the demand upon him, he measured up to its full requirements, -until his friends had grown confident of new and -greater triumphs.</p> - -<p class='c022'>We shall miss him much. His faults (and faults he had -like other men) are forgotten in view of his service to his -friends, his home, his State and his country, and of his -untimely death, when the highest honors which his people -could bestow were gathering about him.</p> - -<p class='c022'>If he had not reached the meridian of his powers, he -died in the fullness of a great fame, and we turn from his -grave sorrowing, but not without hope, for we leave him in -the hands of that Providence which knoweth best, and -doeth all things well.</p> -<hr class='c044' /> - -<p class='c018'>Judge Emory Speer, for the resident alumni of the University -of Georgia, said:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>JUDGE SPEER’S ADDRESS.</h3> -<p class='c021'>Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen: It is instinctive -with civilized humanity to honor the illustrious dead. This -animating impulse is as practical and beneficent in its -results to the living, as it is righteous and compensating to -those glorious natures who have consecrated their lives to -the service of their country and of mankind.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The youthful Athenian might contemplate the statue to -Demosthenes, and with emulation kindled by the story of -his eloquence and his courage, might resolve that his own -lips shall be touched as with the honey of Hybla, and that -he will, if needful, lead the people against another Phillip. -The Switzer lad, bowed before the altar in the chapel of -William Tell, will unconsciously swear forever to defend -the independence of his mountain home. The American -<span class='pageno' id='Page_399'>399</span>youth, standing where the monument to the Father of his -Country throws its gigantic shadow across the tranquil -bosom of the Potomac, with elevation of soul and patriotic -animation will exclaim: I, too, am an American and a freeman. -And, sir, this characteristic of a generous and great -people finds unexampled expression in the conduct of our -country towards the memory of its soldiers, its statesmen, -its patriots, its philanthropists. They are enshrined in the -hearts of a grateful people.</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Their deeds, as they deserve,</div> - <div class='line'>Receive proud recompense. We give in charge</div> - <div class='line'>Their names to the sweet lyre. The historic muse,</div> - <div class='line'>Proud of the treasure, marches with it down</div> - <div class='line'>To latest times; and sculpture, in her turn,</div> - <div class='line'>Gives bond in stone and ever-during brass</div> - <div class='line'>To guard them and immortalize her trust.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'>In obedience to this vitalizing and commanding influence -of a noble people, in deference to the designation of his -brothers and mine, in the beautiful association and sacred -memories of alma mater, I come to place a simple chaplet -upon the grave of Henry Grady, an humble votive offering -at the shrine he has merited and won in the Valhalla of -the American people. Perhaps, sir, in all this vast congregation -there is not one man who knew as I knew our dead -brother in the happy and halcyon days of our childhood. -Thirty years ago we were boys together. Together we -attended the little school in the shadow of the great university -buildings, taught by a noble woman, the daughter -of the venerable Dr. Church, the president of Franklin -College. Henry was then remarkable for his sunny nature, -his generous disposition, his superabundant flow of good-humor -and spirited energy. Beautifully proportioned, -agile, swift of foot, sinewy and strong for his age, he was -easily the leader of our childish sports. Among his young -companions he was even then the popular favorite he has -ever been. In the revolution of the “Great Iron Wheel,” -(an allusion which all good Methodists will understand), I -was borne away at the end of the year, and Henry Grady -<span class='pageno' id='Page_400'>400</span>for years went out of my life. A year later the dun clouds -of war enveloped the country. Five years elapsed, and -when I returned to Athens in September, 1866, to enter the -sophomore class at the University, there was Grady rising -junior. The beautiful boy had become a beautiful youth. -His sunny nature had become even brighter. His generosity -had become a fault. When I had known him in ’59, -his father was perhaps the most successful and enterprising -merchant of Northeast Georgia. He was a sturdy North -Carolinian with that robustness and shrewd vigor of intellectuality -which, with men from that section, has seemed, -in many instances, to dispense with the necessity of elaborate -culture. A soldier and officer of the confederacy, he -had fallen at the head of his regiment, in one of the desperate -battles on the lines at Petersburg, when the immortal -army of Northern Virginia had, in the language of the gallant -Gordon, been “fought to a frazzle.” The brave soldier -and thrifty merchant had left a large estate. Grady was -living with his mother, in that lovely, old-fashioned home -of which, in Boston, he caught the vision, “with its lofty -pillars, and white pigeons fluttering down through the -golden air.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>His college life was a miracle of sweetness and goodness; -never did a glass of wine moisten his lips. Never -did an oath or an obscene word defile that tongue whose -honeyed accents in time to come were to persuade the -millions of the fidelity and patriotism of the people he -loved. Well do I remember the look of amazement, of -indulgent but all intrepid forbearance, which came into -his face when one day a college bully offered to insult him. -In those days of innumerable college flirtations he had but -one sweetheart, and she the beautiful girl who became his -wife and is now the mother of his children, and his bereaved -and disconsolate widow.</p> - -<p class='c022'>This sweetness of disposition ran through his whole life. -If the great journal of which he became an editor was -engaged in an acrimonious controversy, some other writer -was detailed to conduct it. Grady had no taste for controversy -<span class='pageno' id='Page_401'>401</span>of any acrid sort, and I recall but perhaps one exception -in his whole editorial life. But while he would never -quarrel, I had the best right to know, when the emergency -came, he had the intrepidity of a hero. Well do I -remember the outcome of a thoughtlessly cruel practical -joke, which resulted in showing me and many others the -splendid fire of his courage. Early in my college life, as -Grady and I were walking in a dark night on the lonely -streets of Cobham to a supposed meeting of the Chi Phi -Fraternity we were waylaid by a number of our college-mates. -I was in the secret, Grady was not. A huge navy -revolver, with every cylinder loaded with blank cartridges, -had been thrust upon him as a means of defense from a -band of mythical outlaws, who had made purely imaginary -threats of the bloodiest description against everybody in -general and the students of the university in particular. -Grady put the revolver in his pocket and promised to stand -by me, and well did he redeem the promise. We started -and as we passed a dark grove near the residence of General -Howell Cobb the band of supposed assassins rushed upon -us with demoniac yells, and firing a veritable <i>mitraille</i> of -pistol shots with powder charges. Thoughtless boy that I -was. I shouted a defiance to the assassins and called to -Grady to stand by me, and I gave shot for shot as fast as I -could pull the trigger. The dear fellow had not the slightest -doubt that we were assailed by overwhelming odds by -armed desperate foes, but he stood by my side, firing -straight at the on-rushing foe, until, and not until, after -several volleys I was shot dead and dropped to the ground; -when, being overpowered by numbers, and his ally killed, -he made a masterly retreat. Dear, kindly, gallant nature, -little didst thou deem that this boyish prank, practiced by -those whose familiar love embolden them, and all in the -riotous exuberance of careless youth would so soon be -recalled when thou wert gone, recalled with sighs and tears -to testify that thy gentle life had under its kindly surface -a soul as fearless as ever “swarmed up the breach at -Ascalon.”</p> - -<p class='c022'><span class='pageno' id='Page_402'>402</span>Grady, as a writer and orator, was surpassed by no student -of the University, although he was doubtless the -youngest member of his class. Always, however, more -successful in his efforts to advance the political fortunes -of others than of himself, he was defeated for anniversarian -of the Phi Kappa society by one vote; but, as I remember, -he bore off the equal distinction of commencement orator, -each society, at that time, having the right to elect one of -its members to that position. He did not graduate with -class honor, and perhaps fortunately. It is too often true -that honor men mistake the text-books which are merely -the keys to the understanding, for objects worthy of ultimate -pursuit and mastery, and we sometimes find these -gentlemen grubbing for Greek roots and construing abstruse -problems, while the great, busy, throbbing world is passing -them by, and has forgotten their existence. From the -University of Georgia, Grady went to the University of -Virginia. Great tidings of his success came back to us; -we did not doubt that in any contest which would try the -temper of the man he would roll the proud scions of the -first families of Virginia in the humiliating dust of defeat. -Sore indeed were the lamentations, vociferous our denials -of a free ballot and a fair count, when we learned that he -had been defeated in the society contest there; again, as I -remember, by one vote. He came back to Georgia and to -journalism, and from that moment his history is common -property. Others have spoken, or will speak, of his accomplishments -in turning the Pactolian streams of capital into -the channels of Southern investment, of the numberless -enterprises to which he brought his lucidity of statement, -his captivating powers of argumentation, his magnetic -methods for the inspiration of others. The monuments of -the vast and far-reaching designs stand out all over this -broad land; gigantic factories, their tall chimneys towering -toward the sky, mighty railroads stretching through -the mountains of Georgia, where Tallulah and Tugalo rush -downward toward the sea, where hard by Toccoa dashes -its translucent waves to spray. Others, far away toward -<span class='pageno' id='Page_403'>403</span>the shore of the Mexican Gulf, whose languid waves, impelled -by the soft winds of the tropics, cast the sea foam -on the snowy blossoms of the magnolia and the golden -fruitage of the orange, mines have been opened and earth -made to surrender from subterranean stores her hidden -wealth at the touch of his magical wand. Unnumbered -beneficent projects attest his genius and his philanthropy. -But, not content to evolve the treasures of physical nature, -he labored incessantly to provide methods to develop the -mentality of the youth of the State. As a trustee of the -University, and an active member of its Alumni society; -as one in control of that mighty engine of public thought, -the great paper of which he was an editor, his influence -was looking and moving ever toward the light. He knew -that popular ignorance was the greatest danger to liberty, -the greatest foe to national prosperity. He knew that if -the terrible potency of its groping in darkness and prejudice -could but once, like the blind Samson, grasp the pillar -of society in its muscular arms, it would put forth its -baleful strength and whelm every social interest in crushing, -appalling disaster and irremediable ruin.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The most tolerant of men, the life of our dear brother -was one of long protest against the narrowness of partisanship -and sectional bigotry. He was the most independent -of thinkers.</p> - -<p class='c022'>He demonstrated to the people of both sections of our -once divided country, that we might love and honor the -traditions of our Confederacy, and with absolute loyalty -and devotion to the Union as restored. He made it plain -to the minds of the Northern people that while it was impossible -for an ex-Confederate soldier or the children of his -blood, to recall without a kindling eye and a quickening -pulse the swift march, the stubborn retreat, the intrepid -advance, the charging cry of the gallant gray lines as they -swept forward to the attack, the red-cross battle-flags as -their bullet-torn folds were borne aloft in the hands of -heroes along the fiery crest of battle. But he made it plain -also that these are but the emotions and expressions of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_404'>404</span>pride that a brave people cherish in the memories of their -manhood, in the record of their soldierly devotion. Are -we less imbued with the spirit of true Americanism on this -account? No, forever, no! Are the sons of Rupert’s cavaliers, -or Cromwell’s Ironsides less true to England and her -constitution, because their fathers charged home in opposing -squadrons at Edgehill and Naseby? Do not Englishmen -the world over cherish the common heritage of their -common valor? Have Scotchmen, who fought side by side -with the English in the deserts of the Soudan, or the jungles -of Burmah, forgotten the memories of Bannockburn, of -Bruce, and of Wallace?</p> - -<p class='c022'>The time will come—aye, it is present—when the heroism -of the gray and of the blue, is a common element of America’s -military power. I repeat, it is now. There is not a -war officer in the civilized world in comparing the power of -his own country with that of ours, who does not estimate -man for man as soldiers of the Union, the fighting strength -of the Confederacy.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The statesmen of the Old World know that underlying -all of the temporary questions of the hour—underlying all -the resounding disputes, whether in the language of Emerson, -“James or Jonathan shall sit in the chair and hold -the purse,” the great patriotic heart of the people is true -to the constitution of the fathers, true to republican government, -true to the sovereignty of the people, true to the -gorgeous ensign of our country.</p> - -<p class='c022'>In the presence of this knowledge, in the presence of -that mighty mission which under the providence of God -has grown and expanded day by day and century by century -since Columbus, from his frail caravel, beheld rising before -his enraptured vision the nodding palms and gleaming -shores of another continent, the mission to confer upon -humanity the power and privilege of government by the -people and for the people, should be the chiefest care of -our countrymen. Of this mission Grady spoke with an -eloquence so elevated and so inspired that it seemed as if -the voices of the waiting angels were whispering to his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_405'>405</span>prophetic intelligence messages of peace, joy and gladness -to his countrymen. He said:</p> - -<p class='c022'>“A mighty duty, and a mighty inspiration, impels every -one of us to-night to lose in patriotic consecration whatever -estranges, whatever divides. We, sir, are Americans—and -we fight for human liberty! The uplifting force of -the American idea is under every throne on earth. France, -Brazil—these are our victories. To redeem the earth from -kingcraft and oppression—this is our mission! And we -shall not fail. God has sown in our soil the seed of His -millennial harvest, and He will not lay the sickle to the -ripening crop until His full and perfect day has come. -Our history, sir, has been a constant and expanding miracle -from Plymouth Rock and Jamestown all the way—aye, -even from the hour when, from the voiceless and -trackless ocean, a new world rose to the sight of the inspired -sailor. As we approach the fourth centennial of -that stupendous day—when the old world will come to -marvel and to learn, amid our gathered treasures—let us -resolve to crown the miracles of our past with the spectacle -of a Republic compact, united, indissoluble in the bonds -of love—loving from the Lakes to the Gulf—the wounds of -war healed in every heart as on every hill—serene and -resplendent at the summit of human achievement and -earthly glory—blazing out the path and making clear the -way, up which all nations of the earth must come in God’s -appointed time!”</p> - -<p class='c022'>We may imagine that this inspired utterance completed, -there came to his glorious mentality another -thought, another vision. Again he exclaims as once -before to a mighty throng, and now to his own people:</p> - -<p class='c022'>“All this, my country, and no more can we do for you. -As I look the vision grows, the splendor deepens, the horizon -falls back, the skies open their everlasting gates, and -the glory of the Almighty God streams through, as He -looks down on His people who have given themselves unto -Him, and leads them from one triumph to another until -they have reached a glory unspeaking, and the whirling -<span class='pageno' id='Page_406'>406</span>stars, as in their courses through Arcturus they run to the -Milky Way, shall not look down on a better people or a -happier land.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>Thus saying, his work was ended—his earthly pilgrimage -was o’er. He went to sleep</p> -<div class='lg-container-b c042'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch about him</div> - <div class='line'>And lays him down to pleasant dreams.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c046' /> -<p class='c018'>Mr. Hugh V. Washington, representing the City Government, -said:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>ADDRESS OF MR. WASHINGTON.</h3> -<p class='c021'>Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen: There is a songster -peculiar to Southern woodland, who is without a rival. -I have heard his song on a still summer night, and when it -died away, the silence seemed deeper and more impressive. -Georgia has given to the country an orator whose eloquence -was peculiar to himself, and charmed every audience -North, South and West, but that which made him dearest -to Southern hearts was the theme he delighted to present; -that voice was never raised except in behalf of the honor, -the interest and the prosperity of his people, and to-night -we know that that voice is silent forevermore. I have no -words to measure the profound sorrow I feel for the death -of Henry Grady; to say that his loss to the country cannot -be estimated, and that there is no one to take his place, -is but to express a thought common to all. His career as -an orator dawned as that other great Georgian, Benn Hill, -passed away. The first time I ever looked upon Jefferson -Davis was when he stood in Atlanta amid a vast concourse -to honor the memory of the eloquent and faithful Hill. -I shall never forget that scene: there stood before me two -types of Southern manhood, the one of the old, the other -of the new; the venerable ex-president came upon the -platform, and a glad shout arose from thousands of -voices,—he stood the emblem and personification of all we -held most dear in the past, but he belonged to the past. -There arose to welcome him a young Georgian; his speech -<span class='pageno' id='Page_407'>407</span>of welcome was a masterpiece, every nerve in that vast -audience vibrated, and every voice was raised in deafening -applause when Mr. Grady declared that the rising of that -morning’s sun, bringing with it our beloved ex-president, -brought greater joy to Southern hearts than any since the -resurrection morn. Mr. Grady, cherishing in his heart of -hearts the history of the Confederacy, seemed an inspiration -of hope and promise; he seemed to stand for the -Present and Future; and now within a few days of each -other these noble men have gone to their rest, and the close -of a joyous year finds our people bowed in sorrow over -their graves. Mr. Grady’s mission in life traveled beyond -State bounds. He was too big, too broad, too patriotic to -be narrow or partisan; but he was a Georgian to the -core,—he sprung from the red hills of classic Athens; he -drank at the fountain of knowledge at the State University; -what was nearest to Georgia was nearest to him, and -he gave his life that the position of Georgia and her sister -States of the South might be made clear to our brethren at -the North; and to-night, by strange providence, his great -work is closed, and he is sepulchered in the bosom of his -native State, in Atlanta, whose greatness is due more to -his efforts than to any other man.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The life of Henry Grady was like a rare and beautiful -gem whose every side was resplendent with light; as a son -he was what every mother might hope for in her boy; as a -father he was tender and true; as a friend he was open-hearted -and generous as the day; as a member of his old -college fraternity none exceeded him in zeal and generosity; -as an alumnus of the State University his fertile pen -and brain were tireless in promoting its interests; as a -writer he was at once forcible and fascinating in the highest -degree; in journalism he disregarded old methods, and set -a higher standard for American journalism; as an orator he -had the force of Northern logic, and the beauty of Southern -diction; but as much as we may admire him for these noble -traits, yet it is in the life of Henry Grady, as a private citizen, -that he reached the highest points of his character. I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_408'>408</span>know of no other American citizen in the private walks -of life comparable to him. He never sought or held public -office; he had no record of a hundred battle-fields to make -him famous; his life was filled with private charities, and -every enterprise of his native State or city found a willing -and powerful sympathizer in him. The many charitable -institutions of Atlanta are before us as monuments to his -zeal and generosity in behalf of the poor, the needy, and -the forsaken. After twenty-five years, when the ranks of -the Confederate veterans had been decimated to a handful -by the hand of time, and our State was unable to provide -a home for the scattered remnant, he conceived the plan of -building in our capital city, by private benefaction, the -Confederate Home. Wherever there is a man who wore -the gray, there will his name be honored and revered. But -it is useless to attempt an enumeration of the many enterprises -which he fostered; wherever there was work to be -done to promote the interest of his city, his State, or his -country, he was ready to give his time, his labor, and his -money. But there is another feature in the life of Henry -Grady of which I would speak,—he was pre-eminently a -man of the times and for the times, and in this critical -juncture of our history he seemed to have been raised up -by a special providence to carry the message of the South -to the people of our common country; his aspirations were -not only for the success and prosperity of his native section, -but he desired to see all the States combined together -in a community of interest, of prosperity, of thought, of -aim, and of destiny; he brought to the attention of the -country the most gigantic problem of this or any other -time; he declared to the people of the North that the -white people of the South were one people with those of -the North; that they had the same traditions; the same -blood; the same love of freedom, and the same lofty resolve -to preserve their race unpolluted and free; and he brought -to the discharge of this duty such masterful eloquence, -such sincerity of conviction, such kindness of heart and -liberality of thought, as to gain for him not only the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_409'>409</span>applause, but the admiration and sympathy and attention -of the whole country. Though the matchless orator lies -still in death, the South owes to him a debt of gratitude, -which could not be paid though a monument were erected -to his memory higher than that which rises in the sunlight -above Potomac’s wave. Though his voice be still, his -words, his example, and his patriotism shall be cherished -in the hearts of many generations. If I was asked to point -to a man whose life should stand as a model to the young -men of the South, I would point to that of the young -Georgian, who has but so lately passed from among us.</p> - -<p class='c022'>The city of Macon, which I have the honor to represent, -may well sorrow with our sister city of Atlanta, and we -tender to his bereaved people our heartfelt sorrow and -sympathy. Henry Grady stood as a prophet on the verge -of the promised land, bidding the Southland leave the -desert of reconstruction, of gloom and poverty behind it, -and to enter with hope, and courage, and cheerfulness upon -the rich inheritance that the future holds in store for us; -and wherever truth, and courage, and unselfish performance -of duty are appreciated, there will his name find an honored -place on the roll of our country’s great names. And turning -our thoughts and hearts toward his new-made grave, -let us say, “Peace to his ashes, and honor to his memory.”</p> - -<hr class='c044' /> - -<p class='c018'>The Hon. R. W. Patterson spoke as follows for the -members of the Chi Phi Fraternity residing in Macon:</p> -<h3 class='c016'>ADDRESS OF MR. PATTERSON.</h3> -<p class='c021'>Ladies and Gentlemen: When Death like Nature’s -chastening rod hath smitten our common humanity, we -realize the eternal truth that “silence is the law of being, -sound the breaking of the rule.” Standing here as the -representative of those who were knit to the distinguished -dead by as close a tie as that of natural brotherhood, while -a continent is yet vocal with the echoes of his eloquence, -my heart tells me that the infinite possibilities of silence -constitute the only worthy tribute which I can pay to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_410'>410</span>memory of Henry Grady. The most distinguished member -of our fraternity is lost to us forever. O, Death, there is -thy sting; O, Grave, there is thy victory. Though our -ranks are full of gifted and famous men, in all the tribes -of our Israel, there is no Elisha upon whom the mantle of -this translated Elijah can descend.</p> - -<p class='c022'>My fellow Georgians, how shall I speak to you of him? -It is meet that sympathy should veil her weeping eyes, -when she mourns the darling child who bore her gentle -image ever mirrored in his life. As well may the tongue -speak when the soul has departed, as Southern oratory -declaim when Southern eloquence is buried in the grave of -Grady. Even American patriotism is voiceless as she -stands beside the coffined chieftain of her fast-assembling -host. Was he good? Let his neighbors answer. To-night -Atlanta is shrouded in as deep a pall as that which -wrapped Egypt in gloom when the angel of the Lord -smote the first-born in every house. In the busiest city of -the State the rattle of commerce to-day was suspended, the -hum of industry was hushed, and in that gay capital -bright pleasure hath stayed her shining feet to drop a tear -upon the grave of him the people loved so well. Was he -great? From the pinnacle of no official station has he -fallen; the pomp and circumstance of war did not place -him upon a pedestal of prominence; no book has he given -to the literature of the nation; no wealth has he amassed -with which to crystallize his generosity into fame; and yet -to-night a continent stands weeping by his new-made -grave, and as the waves come laden with the message of -the Infinite to the base of the now twice historic Plymouth -Rock, the sympathetic sobbing of the sea can only -whisper to the stricken land, “Peace, be still; my everlasting -arms are round you.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>His greatness cannot be measured by his speeches, -though they were so masterful that they form a portion of -his country’s history. It will rather be gauged by that -patient, brilliant daily work, which made it possible for -him to command the nation’s ear, that power of which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_411'>411</span>these public utterances were but the exponents; his daily -toil in his private sanctum in the stately building of the -<i>Constitution</i>, that magnificent manufactory of public -thought, which he wielded as a weaver does his shuttle. -A small and scantily furnished room, with nothing in it -save Grady, his genius and his God,—and yet thus illumined, -it warmed with the light of fraternal love both -sections of a Republic, compared to which that of historic -Greece was but as a perfumed lamp to the noontide splendor -of the sun. As a journalist Mr. Grady had no superior -in America. As a writer he exercised the princely -prerogative of genius which is to create and not obey -the laws of rhetoric. As well attempt to teach the nightingale -to sing by note, or track the summer lightning as -we do the sun, as measure Grady’s style by any rhetorician’s -rule. I have thought that Mr. Grady was more of -an orator than a writer, and brilliant as his success in -journalism was, it was but the moonlight which reflected -the sun that dawned only to be obscured by death. Certainly -no man in any country or in any age, ever won fame -as an orator faster than he. With a wide reputation as a -writer, but scarcely any as a speaker, even in his own -State, he appeared one night at a banquet in New York, -made a speech of twenty minutes, and the next day was -known throughout the United States as the foremost of -Southern orators. No swifter stride has been made to -fame since the days of David, for like that heroic stripling, -with the sling of courage and the stone of truth, he -slew Sectionalism, the Goliath which had so long threatened -and oppressed his people.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Since Appomattox two historic speeches have been made -by Southern men; the one was that delivered in the Congress -of the United States upon the proposition to strike -from the general amnesty of the government the name of -Jefferson Davis, when Benjamin H. Hill broke the knightliest -lance ever shivered in a people’s honor, full on the -haughty crest of the plumed knight; the other was the -Boston speech of Mr. Grady which, like a magic key, will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_412'>412</span>yet unlock the shackles that have so long manacled a -people who, strangest paradox in history, were enslaved by -the emancipation of their slaves. The logic of Hill was -powerful as the club of Hercules; the eloquence of Grady -was irresistible as the lyre of Orpheus.</p> - -<p class='c022'>My countrymen, if it shall be written in the history of -America that by virtue of the genius of her Toombs and -Cobb and Brown, on the breast of our native State was -cradled a revolution which rocked a continent, upon -another page of that history it will be recorded that -Georgia’s Grady was the Moses who led the Southern -people through a wilderness of weakness and of want at -least to the Pisgah whence, with prophetic eye, he could -discern a New South true to the traditions of the past as -was the steel which glittered on the victorious arm, at -Manassas, but whose hopeful hearts and helpful hands -shall transform desolation into wealth and convert the -defeat of one section of our common country into the -haughty herald of that country’s future rank in the civilization -of the world.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Even, when prompted by the tender relations of the -fraternity which I represent, I cannot trust myself to speak -of Mr. Grady’s private and social life. He was my friend. -Nearly ten years since his kindly glowing words revealed -to me an ambition, which I had scarcely dared to confess -unto myself. As the summer days still linger with us, so -does the daily intercourse which it was my fortune to enjoy -with him some three months since—seem yet to “compass -me about.” By the royal right of intellect he commanded -the homage of my admiration; with the clarion voice of -patriotism he challenged my reverence, but with the magnetism -of his munificent manhood he bade Confidence, that -sentry which guards the human heart, surrender this citadel -at discretion. I trust that it will not be deemed inappropriate -for me, man of the world as I am, to bear my -public testimony to the power of Christianity illustrated in -his life. Familiar in his youth with every phase of pleasure, -with the affluent blood of early manhood yet running -<span class='pageno' id='Page_413'>413</span>riot through his veins, with the temptations of a continent -spread like a royal feast, to which his talent and his fame -gave him easy access, yet when he bowed his head in reverence -to the meek and lowly Nazarene, his life was the -unimpeachable witness of his creed. A thousand sermons -to me were concentrated in the humanized Christianity of -his faith and his works. And God was good to him.—The -magnificent success of the Piedmont Exposition was to him -the exponent of that industrial progress which he had -labored to establish. The bountiful harvest of this closing -year had seemed to set the seal of God’s commendation -upon his labors for the agricultural interests of the South. -Such was his fame that sixty million Americans revered -him as a patriot. With a wife beautiful and brilliant, -adoring him as only a woman can love a genius whom she -comprehends; with two children just verging into adolescence, -and reverencing him as an neophyte does his faith; -with the highest official station within his grasp; with the -curule chair of the Governorship already opening its arms -to receive him; with the future lifting the senatorial toga -to drape his eloquence; with possibilities of the White -House flashing through the green vista of the coming -years,—with all of these he made no murmur at the summons -of his God.</p> - -<p class='c022'>A widow weeps where yesterday a wife adored. Two -orphans mourn to-day where yesterday two children leaned -upon a father’s arm. A nation’s hope is turned to mourning. -It needed the great heart of Grady to gently murmur, -“Thy will, not mine, be done.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>But by all that he has accomplished, and by all that he -has projected, which the coming years will yet work out, I -tell you to-night, my fellow Georgians, that Henry Grady -still lives an abiding influence in the destinies of his -country. Greatest enemy of monopoly while he lived, the -grandest of all monopolies shall be his after death, for -every industrial enterprise hereafter inaugurated in the -South must pay its royalty of fame to him. Sleep on, my -friend, my brother, brilliant and beloved; let no distempered -<span class='pageno' id='Page_414'>414</span>dream of unaccomplished greatness haunt thy long -last sleep. The country that you loved, that you redeemed -and disenthralled, will be your splendid and ever growing -monument, and the blessings of a grateful people will be -the grand inscription, which shall grow longer as that -monument rises higher among the nations of the earth. -Wherever the peach shall blush beneath the kisses of the -Southern sun, wherever the affluent grape shall don the -royal purple of Southern sovereignty, a votive offering from -the one and a rich libation from the other, the grateful -husbandman will tender unto you. The music of no -machinery shall be heard within this Southland which does -not chant a pæan in your praise. Wherever Eloquence, -the deity whom this people hath ever worshiped, shall -retain a temple, no pilgrim shall enter there, save he bear -thy dear name as a sacred shibboleth on his lips. So long -as patriotism shall remain the shining angel who guards -the destinies of our Republic, her starry finger will point to -Grady on Plymouth Rock, for Fame will choose to chisel -his statue there, standing as the sentinel whom God had -placed to keep eternal watch over the liberties of a re-united -people!</p> -<hr class='c044' /> - -<p class='c018'>The exercises were concluded with the benediction -by the Rev. G. A. Nunnally, D.D., President of Mercer -University.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_415'>415</span><span class='c029'>PERSONAL TRIBUTES.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_417'>417</span> - <h2 class='c012'>THOUGHTS ON H. W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c007'> - <div><span class='sc'>By B. H. Samett.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c020'>MEN of genius often die early. Keats died at twenty-six, -Shelly at thirty, Byron at thirty-six, and Burns -at thirty-seven. Henry Grady was born May 24th, 1850, -and hence was a little more than thirty-nine years of age -at his death.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the opinion of many, no more brilliant man has lived -since Byron died. In the power of intense, beautiful and -striking expression he has had no equal among us. Had -he turned his attention to poetry he would have written -something as beautiful as Childe Harold.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Take, for instance, a sentence or two, written eight or -ten years ago, in an article from New York to the <i>Constitution</i>, -entitled “The Atheistic Tide.” The whole article -is exceptionally brilliant. I select at random a paragraph -or two:</p> - -<p class='c018'>“We have stripped all the earth of mystery and -brought all its phenomena under the square and compass, -so that we might have expected science to doubt the mystery -of life itself, and to plant its theodolite for a measurement -of the Eternal, and pitch its crucible for an analysis -of the Soul. It was natural that the Greek should be led -to the worship of his physical Gods, for the earth itself -was a mystery that he could not divine, a vastness and a -vagueness that he could not comprehend. But we have -fathomed its uttermost secret—felt its most hidden pulse, -girdled it with steel, harnessed and trapped it to our -liking. What was mystery is now demonstration—what -was vague is now apparent. Science has dispelled illusion -after illusion, struck down error after error, made plain all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_418'>418</span>that was vague on earth and reduced every mystery to -demonstration. It is little wonder then that, at last, -having reduced all the illusions of matter to an equation, -and anchored every theory to a fixed formula, it should -assail the mystery of life itself and warn the world that -science would yet furnish the key to the problem of the -soul. The obelisk, plucked from the heart of Egypt, rests -upon a shore that was as vaguely and infinitely beyond -the knowledge or aspiration of its builders, as the shores -of a star that lights the spaces beyond our vision are to us -to-day. The Chinaman jostles us in the streets, and the -centuries that look through his dreamy eyes have lost all -sense of wonder—ships that were freighted in the heart of -Africa lie in our harbors, and our market-places are vocal -with more tongues than bewildered the builders of Babel—a -letter slips round the earth in ninety days and the messages -of men flash along the bed of the ocean—we tell the -secrets of the universe as a woman tells her beads, and -the stars whirl serenely through orbits that science has -defined—we even read of the instant when the comet that -plunged in dim illimitable distance, where even the separate -stars are lost in mist and vapor, shall whirl again into -the vision of man, a wanderer that could not shake off the -inexorable supervision of science, even in the chill and -measureless depths of the universe.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>This brilliancy, this dazzling, meteoric imagination, made -against his reputation in the earlier years of his career. -The impression got abroad that he was simply fanciful and -superficial—that he could paint his productions in the -gorgeous imagery of poetry, but that he had no great intellectual -strength and force. It took some time to dispel -this illusion. It was only after the great breadth of his -mind displayed itself in his powerful speeches in New -York, Dallas, Tex., Augusta, Ga., and Boston, that the -public began to see that, back behind his rich and brilliant -imagination, there was a masterful intellect, able to comprehend -the profoundest questions of social and political -policy.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_419'>419</span>His development as an orator was indeed phenomenal. -Nothing has ever been known like it since Sheridan quit -play-writing to enter the English House of Commons, and -delivered, according to the judgment of Fox and Burke, the -most eloquent oration ever spoken to an English auditory. -Grady’s whole preparation had been in the line of journalism. -He had never practiced at the bar, in the forum, or -on the hustings. Yet such was his genius, that, from the -very moment he got before the American public, he leaped -from the base to the very summit of oratorical fame.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His oratory was <i>sué generis</i>. Like all great men he -had no prototype. There was nothing sonorous in -his tones of voice—he had nothing of the declamatory -pomp of Toombs, the stately periods of Hill, the slow, -measured cadences of Stephens. Like Mark Antony he -talked along; but such talk—as sweet as the harp of Orpheus -whose melody swayed the trees of the forest and rent -asunder the solid rocks. Like a fountain unsealed, his -thought flowed forth in gushing opulence, and in every -rhythmic period his soul voiced itself in perfect music. He -could awake all the sleeping passions of the heart and set -them astir with his own enthusiasm. Like a pendulum, -he swung betwixt a smile and a tear, now convulsing all -with his humor and anon melting all with his pathos.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Added to such brilliant gifts as a writer and a speaker, -he had the genius of common sense. He could project a -movement of great practical interest, and perfect and -accomplish it with the same marvellous facility that he -could indite a morning editorial. He saw in our uncut -quarries the marble halls and palaces of the rich—in our -mountains of ore the matchless steam engines and their -tracks of steel along which our growing commerce was to -be borne to the distant marts of the world—in our waving -forests of pine, the cities of majestic splendor and beauty -that were to adorn and enrich our vast domain. As -Webster said of Hamilton, in reference to the public credit, -he touched the dead corpse of our industries and they arose -and stood upon their feet.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_420'>420</span>To all these gifts of head, there was an added heart of -boundless sympathies. In his writings there is always an -undertone of sentiment, bespeaking a moral nature as -opulent as was his intellectual endowment. His imagination -caught up the good, the beautiful and the true. -With the alchemy of his genius he could transmute the -simplest flower into a preacher of righteousness, and get -from it some lessons of wisdom and truth. To lift up and -crown humanity was the supremest aspiration of his life. -This ruling passion was strong in death, and even in the -delirium preceding dissolution, his brain was rife with its -own desiring phantasies, and he died in the midst of -dreams born of yearnings to help and bless the needy and -the heavy laden.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Perhaps no one has lived among us who possessed more -of the elements which go to make up the hero, the popular -idol. Noble in presence, gracious in manner, gentle in -spirit, manly in everything, he commanded not only the -admiration but the love of all. If all who tenderly loved -him could lay a garland upon his grave his ashes would -rest beneath a mountain of flowers.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To die so wept and mourned were more to be desired -than the glittering honors of splendid obsequies. To live, -as he will live, embalmed in the immortality of love, is -better far than enshrinement in the cold emblazonry of -marble.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Loving hands and hearts will erect to his memory the -granite shaft, cut and chiselled with words of eulogy, but -his most enduring monument is his grand, historic life, -standing out imperishably based upon the affections and -the love of a grateful people, and pointing unborn generations -to the same heights of purity and honor he so -worthily attained.</p> -<hr class='c047' /> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_421'>421</span> - <h2 class='c012'>SEARGENT S. PRENTISS AND HENRY W. GRADY.</h2> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c007'> - <div><i>SIMILARITY OF GENIUS AND PATRIOTISM.</i></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='sc'>By Joseph F. Pon.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c028' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>HISTORY repeats itself, and genius does the same. -The light which shines with electric brilliancy in one -portion of a country, though suddenly extinguished, soon -blazes forth with life and hope, in genial air and under -propitious skies.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Eminent in illustration of this truth, is the very great -similarity in the mental structure, the physical temperament -and the personal qualities of Seargent S. Prentiss -and Henry W. Grady. The first was born in bleak and -sterile Maine, and yet his great heart was not hemmed in -by the hills around which clung the memories of his Pilgrim -fathers. It took within its spacious chambers, and -nurtured in patriotic affection the new-found friends of his -adopted home, in the semi-tropical valleys of the lower -Mississippi. The other was born on Georgia soil, and -Southern traditions, memories and methods of thought -seemed but a second nature with him. It did not prevent -his fullness to the brim with that Promethean flame and -“milk of human kindness,” which caused him in boundless -Americanism, to wear a constant smile, born of infinite -hope and faith in the future of a great Republic, stretching -from the rugged coast of Maine to the broad plazas of -Texas—from the noble forests of Oregon to the coral reefs -of Florida.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Each of these men combined with deep research and -intuitive perception, an imagination as luxuriant as a tropical -garden, and while each put forth “thoughts that -breathed in words that burned,” he was ever careful in the -exercise of his great gifts, that they should always be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_422'>422</span>directed in the promotion of human happiness, and to stimulate -the loftiest human exertion. When Prentiss or -Grady spoke every listener felt the touch of the master hand -as it played upon his heart-strings—felt the tingling -of the blood in his fingers’ ends, and could not fail to enjoy -the delightful silence of universal and spontaneous admiration. -The eloquence of these two men was not of that -school which deals in thundergusts of word-painting, -devoid of reason, sense, or consistency. Their ideas are -always comely, well-proportioned, clear in outline and yet -not angular in structure. They spoke for God and humanity—for -liberty—for love—for law. They did not pervert -their great gifts from the purposes that Nature intended. -They used their magic power to smooth and soften the -rough, hard places of human life, to promote all ends and -objects catholic, worthy, commendable—to charm and persuade -the morose and unwilling—to denounce like Nathan—to -warn like Cassandra—to encourage like an angel of light. -When either of them spoke, he seemed to realize the sublimest -purpose of his mission; and condensed his giant -electric power, as the heat charges the summer cloud with -the bolts that are soon to flash and shiver.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Prentiss died in the same year that Grady was born; -and when he first closed his brilliant career at forty-two -years of age, the second was but a smiling infant six weeks -old. Each, cut off before he had reached the zenith, was</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>A mighty vessel foundered in the calm,</div> - <div class='line'>Its freight half given to the world.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c048'>The glorious sun of each “went down while it was yet day.”</p> -<p class='c018'>Some extracts are here given, from an address delivered -by Prentiss before the New England Society of New Orleans, -on December 22, 1845. These will be followed by some from -Grady’s Boston speech. Prentiss at the time named, was -about the same age that Grady was when he died. In -opening Prentiss said: “This is a day dear to the sons of -New England, and ever held by them in sacred remembrance. -On this day, from every quarter of the globe, they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_423'>423</span>gather in spirit around the Rock of Plymouth, and hang -upon the urn of their Pilgrim fathers, the garlands of -filial gratitude and affection. We have assembled for the -purpose of participating in this honorable duty—of performing -this pious pilgrimage. To-day we will visit that -memorable spot. We gaze upon the place where a feeble -band of persecuted exiles founded a mighty nation; and -our hearts will exult with proud gratification, as we remember -that on that barren shore our ancestors planted not only -empire, but freedom.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Of the future but little is known; clouds and darkness -rest upon it. We yearn to become acquainted with its -hidden secrets—we stretch out our arms toward its shadowy -inhabitants—we invoke our posterity, but they answer us -not. We turn for relief to the past, that mighty reservoir -of men and things. There we are introduced into Nature’s -vast laboratory, and witness her elemental labors. We -mark with interest the changes in continents and oceans, -by which she has notched the centuries. With curious -wonder we gaze down the long aisles of the past, upon the -generations that are gone. We behold as in a magic glass, -men in form and feature like ourselves, actuated by the -same motives, urged by the same passions, busily engaged -in shaping out both their own destinies and ours. We -approach them, and they refuse not our invocation. We -hold converse with the wise philosophers, the sage legislators, -and divine poets. But most of all among the -innumerable multitudes that peopled the past, we seek our -own ancestors, drawn toward them by an irresistible sympathy. -With reverent solicitude we examine into their -character and actions, and as we find them worthy or -unworthy, our hearts swell with pride or our cheeks glow -with shame.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Speaking of the simplicity of the Pilgrim habits, Prentiss -goes on: “In founding their colony they sought neither -wealth nor conquest; but only peace and freedom. From -the moment they touched the shore, they labored with -orderly, systematic and persevering industry. They cultivated, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_424'>424</span>without a murmur, a poor and ungrateful soil, which -even now yields but a stubborn obedience to the dominion -of the plow. They brought with them neither wealth nor -power, but the principles of civil and religious freedom. -They cherished, cultivated and developed them to a full -and luxuriant maturity; and furnished them to their posterity -as the only sure and permanent foundations for -free government. We are proud of our native land, and -turn with fond affection to its rocky shores. Behold the -thousand temples of the Most High, that nestle in its happy -valleys and crown its swelling hills. See how their glittering -spires pierce the sky—celestial conductors ready to -avert the lightning of an angry heaven!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Himself the son of a ship-builder, he thus speaks of -the enterprise of the Pilgrims: “They have wrestled with -Nature, till they have prevailed against her, and compelled -her reluctantly to reverse her own laws. The sterile soil -has become productive under their sagacious culture, and -the barren rock, astonished, finds itself covered with luxuriant -and unaccustomed verdure. Upon the banks of every -river they build temples of industry, and stop the squanderings -of the spendthrift waters. They bind the Naiades -of the brawling stream; they drive the Dryades from -their accustomed haunts, and force them to desert each -favorite grove: for from river, creek, and bay they are -busy transforming the crude forests into staunch and gallant -vessels. From every inlet and indenture along the -rocky shore, swim forth these ocean-birds—born in the -wildwood—fledged upon the wave. Behold how they -spread their white pinions to the favoring breeze, and wing -their flight to every quarter of the globe—the carrier pigeons -of the world!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>But lastly how brimming with pathos, how pregnant -with patriotic ardor, is the following: “Glorious New -England! Thou art still true to thy ancient fame, and -worthy of thy ancestral honors. We thy children have -assembled in this far-distant land to celebrate thy birthday. -A thousand fond associations throng upon us, roused -<span class='pageno' id='Page_425'>425</span>by the spirit of the hour. On thy pleasant valleys rest, -like sweet dews of the morning, the gentle recollections of -our early life; around thy hills and mountains cling like -gathering mists the mighty memories of the Revolution; -and far away on the horizon of the past, gleam like thine -own Northern lights, the awful virtues of our Pilgrim sires. -But while we devote this day to the remembrance of our -native land, we forget not that in which our happy lot is -cast. We exult in the reflection that, though we count by -thousands the miles which separate us from our birthplace, -still our country is the same. We have but changed -our chamber in the paternal mansion; in all its rooms we -are at home, and all who inhabit it are our brothers. We -are no exiles meeting upon the banks of a foreign river, to -swell its waters with our home-sick tears. Here floats the -same banner which nestled above our boyish heads, except -that its mighty folds are wider, and its glittering stars -increased in number.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The sound of this eloquent tongue was stilled, but the -“divine afflatus” with which it was tuned was transferred -to, and continued in another. Near the birthplace of the -noble Prentiss, and surrounded by those who were proud -of his fame, Grady referred to those surroundings and the -objects of his visit, when he said: “Happy am I that this -mission has brought my feet at last to press New England’s -historic soil, and my eyes to the knowledge of her beauty -and her thrift. Here within touch of Plymouth Rock and -Bunker Hill—where Webster thundered and Longfellow -sang, Emerson thought, and Channing preached—here in -the cradle of American letters, and almost of American -liberty, I hasten to make the obeisance that every American -owes New England, when first he stands uncovered in -her mighty presence. Strange apparition! This stern and -unique figure, carved from the ocean and the wilderness, -its majesty kindling and growing amid the storms of winters -and of wars,—until at last the gloom was broken, its -beauty disclosed in the sunshine, and the heroic workers -rested at its base,—while startled kings and emperors gazed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_426'>426</span>and marveled that from the rude touch of this handful, -cast on a bleak and unknown shore, should have come the -embodied genius of human government, and the perfected -model of human liberty! God bless the memory of those -immortal workers, and prosper the fortunes of their living -sons, and perpetuate the inspiration of their handiwork.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Faithful to the memories of his childhood, and to the -devotion of his mature years, visions of his distant home -rise to his mental eye, and with a master’s magic touch he -spreads the picture on the glowing canvas: “Far to the -South, Mr. President, separated from this section by a line -once defined in irrepressible difference, once traced in fratricidal -blood, and now, thank God, but a vanishing shadow, -lies the fairest and richest domain of this earth. It is the -home of a brave and hospitable people. There is centered -all that can please or prosper human kind. A perfect climate -above a fertile soil, yields to the husbandman every -product of the temperate zone. There, by night, the cotton -whitens beneath the stars, and the wheat locks the sunshine -in its bearded sheaf. In the same field the clover steals the -fragrance of the wind, and the tobacco catches the quick -aroma of the rains.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>In speaking of southern citizenship, and the perils of its -present environment, Grady says: “The resolute, clear-headed, -broad-minded men of the South, the men whose -genius made glorious every page of the first seventy years of -American history—whose courage and fortitude you tested -in five years of the fiercest war—whose energy has made -bricks without straw, and spread splendor amidst the ashes -of their war-wasted homes—these men wear this problem -in their hearts and their brains, by day and by night. -They realize, as you cannot, what this problem means, -what they owe to this kindly and dependent race, the -measure of their debt to the world in whose despite they -defended and maintained slavery. And though their feet -are hindered in its undergrowth, and their march encumbered -with its burdens, they have lost neither the patience -from which comes clearness, nor the faith from which comes -courage. Nor, sir, when in passionate moments is disclosed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_427'>427</span>to them that vague and awful shadow, with its lurid abysses -and its crimson stains, into which I pray God they may -never go, are they struck with more of apprehension than -is needed to complete their consecration!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The conclusion of that grand address, so powerful in -scope and faultless in diction, is a forcible reminder of -Webster’s great peroration in his reply to Hayne on Foot’s -Resolution. Grady here says: “A mighty duty, sir, and -a mighty inspiration impels every one of us to-night to -lose in patriotic consecration whatever estranges, whatever -divides. We, sir, are Americans, and we fight for human -liberty. The uplifting force of the American idea is under -every throne on earth. France, Brazil—these are our victories. -To redeem the earth from kingcraft and oppression, -this is our mission. And we shall not fail. God has sown -in our soil the seed of his millennial harvest, and he will -not lay the sickle to the ripening crop until his full and -perfect day has come. Our history, sir, has been a constant -and expanding miracle from Plymouth Rock and -Jamestown, all the way, aye, even from the hour when, -from the voiceless and trackless ocean, a new world rose to -the sight of the inspired sailor. As we approach the fourth -centennial of that stupendous day—when the old world will -come to marvel and to learn, amid our gathered treasures—let -us resolve to crown the miracles of our past with the -spectacle of a Republic compact, united, indissoluble in the -bonds of love—loving from the Lakes to the Gulf—the -wounds of war healed in every heart as on every hill, -serene and resplendent at the summit of human achievement -and earthly glory, blazing out the path and making -clear the way up which all the nations of the earth must -come in God’s appointed time!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The love and respect of the Mississippians and Louisianans, -and of the entire Southwest for Prentiss was only -equaled by the admiration of the North for Grady. All -honor to their memories, and peace to their patriot shades! -The “clods of the valley will be sweet unto them” until -the resurrection morn.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Columbus, Ga.</span>, Feb. 5, 1890.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_428'>428</span> - <h3 class='c003'>SERMON BY T. DE WITT TALMAGE,</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>THE great Academy of Music, Brooklyn, N.Y., was -crowded to-day, February 23, as it never had been -before. Prominent in the congregation were most of the -gentlemen who had attended the banquet of the Southern -Society. Their presence was due to the intimation that -Dr. Talmage was going to preach on the life and character -of the <i>Constitution’s</i> late editor, Mr. Henry W. Grady. -Dr. Talmage was at his best, in splendid voice, and his -rounded periods made a deep impression upon all present. -Taking for his text Isaiah viii., 1, “Take thee a great roll, -and write in it with a man’s pen,” the preacher said:</p> - -<p class='c018'>To Isaiah, with royal blood in his veins and a habitant -of palaces, does this divine order come. He is to take a -roll, a large roll, and write on it with a pen, not an angel’s -pen, but a man’s pen. So God honored the pen and so he -honored the manuscript. In our day the mightiest roll is -the religious and secular newspaper, and the mightiest pen -is the editor’s pen, whether for good or evil. And God -says now to every literary man, and especially to every -journalist: “Take thee a great roll and write in it with a -man’s pen.”</p> -<h3 class='c016'>THE NEWS ON THE MEDITERRANEAN.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>Within a few weeks one of the strongest, most vivid -and most brilliant of those pens was laid down on the editorial -desk in Atlanta, never again to be resumed. I was -far away at the time. We had been sailing up from the -Mediterranean Sea, through the Dardanelles, which region -is unlike anything I ever saw for beauty. There is not any -other water scenery on earth where God has done so many -picturesque things with islands. They are somewhat like -the Thousand Islands of our American St. Lawrence, but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_429'>429</span>more like heaven. Indeed, we had just passed Patmos, the -place from which John had his apocalyptic vision. Constantinople -had seemed to come out to greet us, for your -approach to that city is different from any other city. Other -cities as you approach them seem to retire, but this city, -with its glittering minarets and pinnacles, seems almost to -step into the water to greet you. But my landing there, -that would have been to me an exhilaration, was suddenly -stunned with the tidings of the death of my intimate friend, -Henry W. Grady. I could hardly believe the tidings, for -I had left on my study table at home letters and telegrams -from him, those letters and telegrams having a warmth -and geniality, and a wit such as he alone could express. -The departure of no public man for many years has so -affected me. For days I walked about as in a dream, and -I resolved that, getting home, I would, for the sake of his -bereaved household, and for the sake of his bereaved profession, -and for the sake of what he had been to me, and -shall continue to be as long as memory lasts, I would speak -a word in appreciation of him, the most promising of -Americans, and learn some of the salient lessons of his -departure.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I have no doubt that he had enemies, for no man can -live such an active life as he lived, or be so far in advance -of his time without making enemies, some because he -defeated their projects, and some because he outshone them. -Owls and bats never did like the rising sun. But I shall -tell you how he appeared to me, and I am glad that I told -him while he was in full health what I thought of him. -Memorial orations and gravestone epitaphs are often mean -enough, for they say of a man after he is dead that which -ought to have been said of him while living. One garland -for a living brow is worth more than a mountain of japonicas -and calla lilies heaped on a funeral casket. By a -little black volume of fifty pages, containing the eulogiums -and poems uttered and written at the demise of Clay and -Webster and Calhoun and Lincoln and Sumner, the world -tried to pay for the forty years of obloquy it heaped upon -<span class='pageno' id='Page_430'>430</span>those living giants. If I say nothing in praise of a man -while he lives I will keep silent when he is dead. Myrtle -and weeping willow can never do what ought to have been -done by amaranth and palm branch. No amount of -“Dead March in Saul” rumbling from big organs at the -obsequies can atone for non-appreciation of the man before -he fell on sleep. The hearse cannot do what ought to have -been done by chariot. But there are important things that -need to be said about our friend, who was a prophet in -American journalism, and who only a few years ago heard -the command of my text: “Take thee a great roll, and -write in it with a man’s pen.”</p> -<h3 class='c016'>A RETROSPECT OF LIFE.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>His father dead, Henry W. Grady, a boy fourteen years -of age, took up the battle of life. It would require a long -chapter to record the names of orphans who have come to -the top. When God takes away the head of the household -He very often gives to some lad in that household a special -qualification. Christ remembers how that His own father -died early, leaving Him to support Himself and His mother -and His brothers in the carpenter’s shop at Nazareth, and -He is in sympathy with all boys and all young men in the -struggle. You say: “Oh, if my father had only lived I -would have had a better education and I would have had a -more promising start, and there are some wrinkles on my -brow that would not have been there.” But I have noticed -that God makes a special way for orphans. You would -not have been half the man you are if you had not been -obliged from your early days to fight your own battles. -What other boys got out of Yale and Harvard you got in -the university of hard knocks. Go among successful merchants, -lawyers, physicians and men of all occupations and -professions, and there are many of them who will tell you: -“At ten, or twelve, or fifteen years of age, I started for -myself; father was sick, or father was dead.” But somehow -they got through and got up. I account for it -by the fact that there is a special dispensation of God -<span class='pageno' id='Page_431'>431</span>for orphans. All hail, the fatherless and motherless! -The Lord Almighty will see you through. Early obstacles -for Mr. Grady were only the means for development of his -intellect and heart. And lo! when at thirty-nine years of -age he put down his pen and closed his lips for the perpetual -silence, he had done a work which many a man who -lives on to sixty and seventy and eighty years never -accomplishes. There is a great deal of senseless praise of -longevity, as though it were a wonderful achievement to -live a good while. Ah, my friends, it is not how long we -live, but how well we live and how usefully we live. A -man who lives to eighty years and accomplishes nothing for -God or humanity might better have never lived at all. -Methuselah lived nine hundred and sixty-nine years, and -what did it amount to? In all those more than nine centuries -he did not accomplish anything which seemed worth -record. Paul lived only a little more than sixty, but how -many Methuselahs would it take to make one Paul? Who -would not rather have Paul’s sixty years than Methuselah’s -nine hundred and sixty-nine? Robert McCheyne died at -thirty years of age and John Summerfield at twenty-seven -years of age, but neither earth nor heaven will ever hear the -end of their usefulness. Longevity! Why, an elephant -can beat you at that, for it lives a hundred and fifty and -two hundred years. Gray hairs are the blossoms of the -tree of life if found in the way of righteousness, but the -frosts of the second death if found in the way of sin.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>MR. GRADY AS A CHRISTIAN.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>One of our able New York journals last spring printed -a question and sent it to many people, and, among others, -to myself: “Can the editor of a secular journal be a -Christian?” Some of the newspapers answered no. I -answered yes; and, lest you may not understand me, I say -yes again. Summer before last, riding with Mr. Grady -from a religious meeting in Georgia on Sunday night, he -said to me some things which I now reveal for the first -time, because it is appropriate now that I reveal them. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_432'>432</span>He expressed his complete faith in the gospel, and expressed -his astonishment and his grief that in our day so many young -men were rejecting Christianity. From the earnestness -and the tenderness and the confidence with which he spoke -on these things I concluded that when Henry W. Grady -made public profession of his faith in Christ, and took his -place at the holy communion in the Methodist Church, he -was honestly and truly Christian. That conversation that -Sunday night, first in the carriage and then resumed in the -hotel, impressed me in such a way that when I simply -heard of his departure, without any of the particulars, I -concluded that he was ready to go. I warrant there was -no fright in the last exigency, but that he found what is -commonly called “the last enemy” a good friend, and -from his home on earth he went to a home in heaven. Yes, -Mr. Grady not only demonstrated that an editor may be a -Christian, but that a very great intellect may be gospelized. -His mental capacity was so wonderful it was almost startling. -I have been with him in active conversation while at -the same time he was dictating to a stenographer editorials -for the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>. But that intellect was not -ashamed to bow to Christ. Among his last dying utterances -was a request for the prayers of the churches in his -behalf.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There was that particular quality in him that you do not -find in more than one person out of hundreds of thousands—namely, -personal magnetism. People have tried to define -that quality, and always failed, yet we have all felt its power. -There are some persons who have only to enter a room -or step upon a platform or into a pulpit, and you are thrilled -by their presence, and when they speak your nature responds -and you cannot help it. What is the peculiar influence with -which such a magnetic person takes hold of social groups -and audiences? Without attempting to define this, which -is indefinable, I will say it seems to correspond to the waves -of air set in motion by the voice or the movements of the -body. Just like that atmospheric vibration is the moral or -spiritual vibration which rolls out from the soul of what we -<span class='pageno' id='Page_433'>433</span>call a magnetic person. As there may be a cord or rope -binding bodies together, there may be an invisible cord -binding souls. A magnetic man throws it over others as a -hunter throws a lasso. Mr. Grady was surcharged with -this influence, and it was employed for patriotism and -Christianity and elevated purposes.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>GREAT MEN MAY BE CHRISTIANS.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>You may not know why, in the conversation which I -had with Mr. Gladstone a few weeks ago, he uttered these -memorable words about Christianity, some of which were -cabled to America. He was speaking in reply to this -remark: I said: “Mr. Gladstone, we are told in America -by some people that Christianity does very well for weak-minded -men and children in the infant class, but it is not -fit for stronger minded men; but when we mention you, of -such large intellectuality, as being a pronounced friend of -religion, we silence their batteries.” Then Mr. Gladstone -stopped on the hillside where we were exercising, and said: -“The older I grow, the more confirmed I am in my faith in -religion.” “Sir,” said he, with flashing eye and uplifted -hand, “talk about the questions of the day, there is but -one question, and that is the Gospel. That can and will -correct everything. Do you have any of that dreadful -agnosticism in America?” Having told him we had, he -went on to say: “I am profoundly thankful that none of -my children or kindred have been blasted by it. I am glad -to say that about all the men at the top in Great Britain are -Christians. Why, sir,” he said, “I have been in public -position fifty-eight years, and forty-seven years in the -cabinet of the British government, and during those forty-seven -years I have been associated with sixty of the master -minds of the century, and all but five of the sixty were -Christians.” He then named the four leading physicians -and surgeons of his country, calling them by name and -remarking upon the high qualities of each of them and -added: “They are all thoroughly Christian.” My friends, -I think it will be quite respectable for a little longer to be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_434'>434</span>the friends of religion. William E. Gladstone, a Christian; -Henry W. Grady, a Christian. What the greatest of Englishmen -said of England is true of America and of all -Christendom. The men at the top are the friends of God -and believers in the sanctities of religion, the most eminent -of the doctors, the most eminent of the lawyers, the most -eminent of the merchants, and there are no better men in -all our land than some of those who sit in editorial chairs. -And if that does not correspond with your acquaintanceship, -I am sorry that you have fallen into bad company. -In answer to the question put last spring, “Can a secular -journalist be a Christian?” I not only answer in the -affirmative, but I assert that so great are the responsibilities -of that profession, so infinite and eternal the consequences -of their obedience or disobedience of the words of my text, -“Take thee a great roll and write in it with a man’s pen,” -and so many are the surrounding temptations, that the -men of no other profession more deeply need the defenses -and the reinforcements of the grace of God.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>THE OPPORTUNITIES OF JOURNALISM.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>And then look at the opportunities of journalism. I -praise the pulpit and magnify my office, but I state a fact -which you all know when I say that where the pulpit -touches one person the press touches five hundred. The -vast majority of people do not go to church, but all intelligent -people read the newspapers. While, therefore, the -responsibility of the minister is great, the responsibilities -of editors and reporters is greater. Come, brother journalist, -and get your ordination, not by the laying on of -human hands, but by the laying on of the hands of the -Almighty. To you is committed the precious reputation -of men and the more precious reputation of women. -Spread before our children an elevated literature. Make -sin appear disgusting and virtue admirable. Believe -good rather than evil. While you show up the hypocrisies -of the church, show up the stupendous hypocrisies -outside of the church. Be not, as some of you are, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_435'>435</span>the mere echoes of public opinion; make public opinion. -Let the great roll on which you write with a man’s pen be -a message of light and liberty, and kindness and an awakening -of moral power. But who is sufficient for these -things! Not one of you without Divine help. But get -that influence and the editors and reporters can go up and -take this world for God and the truth. The mightiest -opportunity in all the world for usefulness to-day is open -before editors and reporters and publishers, whether of -knowledge on foot, as in the book, or knowledge on the -wing, as in the newspaper; I pray God, men of the newspaper -press, whether you hear or read this sermon, that -you may rise up to your full opportunity and that you may -be divinely helped and rescued and blessed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Some one might say to me: “How can you talk thus of -the newspaper press when you yourself have sometimes -been unfairly treated and misrepresented?” I answer that -in the opportunity the newspaper press of this country and -other countries have given me week by week to preach the -gospel to the nations, I am put under so much obligation -that I defy all editors and reporters, the world over, to -write anything that shall call forth from me one word of -bitter retort from now till the day of my death. My opinion -is that all reformers and religious teachers, instead of -spending so much time and energy in denouncing the press, -had better spend more time in thanking them for what they -have done for the world’s intelligence, and declaring their -magnificent opportunity and urging their employment of it -all for beneficent and righteous purposes.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>A TYPE OF CHRISTIAN PATRIOTISM.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>Again, I remark that Henry W. Grady stood for -Christian patriotism irrespective of political spoils. He -declined all official reward. He could have been Governor -of Georgia, but refused it. He could have been Senator -of the United States, but declined it. He remained -plain Henry Grady. Nearly all the other orators of the -political arena, as soon as the elections are over, go to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_436'>436</span>Washington, or Albany, or Harrisburg, or Atlanta, to get -in city or state or national office, reward for their services, -and not getting what they want spend the rest of the time -of that administration in pouting about the management -of public affairs or cursing Harrison or Cleveland. When -the great political campaigns were over Mr. Grady went -home to his newspaper. He demonstrated that it is possible -to toil for principles which he thought to be right, -simply because they were right. Christian patriotism is too -rare a commodity in this country. Surely the joy of living -under such free institutions as those established here -ought to be enough reward for political fidelity. Among -all the great writers that stood at the last Presidential -election on Democratic and Republican platforms, you -cannot recall in your mind ten who were not themselves -looking for remunerative appointments. Aye, you can -count them all on the fingers of one hand. The most illustrious -specimen of that style of man for the last ten years -was Henry W. Grady.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Again, Mr. Grady stood for the New South, and was -just what we want to meet three other men, one to speak -for the New North, another for the New East, and another -for the New West. The bravest speech made for the last -quarter of a century was that made by Mr. Grady at the -New England dinner in New York about two or three -years ago. I sat with him that evening and know something -of his anxieties, for he was to tread on dangerous -ground, and might by one misspoken word have antagonized -both sections. His speech was a victory that thrilled all -of us who heard him and all who read him. That speech, -great for wisdom, great for kindness, great for pacification, -great for bravery, will go down to the generations with -Webster’s speech at Bunker Hill, William Wirt’s speech -at the arraignment of Aaron Burr, Edmund Burke’s speech -on Warren Hastings, Robert Emmett’s speech for his own -vindication.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Who will in conspicuous action represent the New -North as he did the New South? Who will come forth -<span class='pageno' id='Page_437'>437</span>for the New East and who for the New West? Let old -political issues be buried, let old grudges die. Let new -theories be launched. With the coming in of a new nation -at the gates of Castle Garden every year, and the wheat -bin and corn crib of our land enlarged with every harvest, -and a vast multitude of our population still plunged in -illiteracy to be educated, and moral questions abroad -involving the very existence of our Republic, let the old -political platforms that are worm-eaten be dropped, and -platforms that shall be made of two planks, the one -the Ten Commandments, and the other the Sermon on the -Mount, lifted for all of us to stand on. But there is a lot -of old politicians grumbling all around the sky who don’t -want a New South, a New North, a New East, or a New -West. They have some old war speeches that they prepared -in 1861, that in all our autumnal elections they feel -called upon to inflict upon the country. They growl louder -and louder in proportion as they are pushed back further -and further and the Henry W. Gradys come to the front. -But the mandate, I think, has gone forth from the throne -of God that a new American Nation shall take the place of -the old, and the new has been baptized for God and liberty, -and justice and peace and morality and religion.</p> -<h3 class='c016'>THE APOTHEOSIS.</h3> - -<p class='c024'>And now our much lamented friend has gone to give -account. Suddenly the facile and potent pen is laid down -and the eloquent tongue is silent. What? Is there no -safeguard against fatal disease? The impersonation of -stout health was Mr. Grady. What compactness of muscle! -What ruddy complexion! What flashing eye! -Standing with him in a group of twenty or thirty persons -at Piedmont, he looked the healthiest, as his spirits were -the blithest. Shall we never feel again the hearty grasp -of his hand or be magnetized with his eloquence? Men of -the great roll, men of the pen, men of wit, men of power, -if our friend had to go when the call came, so must you -when your call comes. When God asks you what have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_438'>438</span>you done with your pen, or your eloquence, or your wealth, -or your social position, will you be able to give satisfactory -answer? What have we been writing all these years? -If mirth, has it been innocent mirth, or that which tears -and stings and lacerates? From our pen have there come -forth productions healthy or poisonous! In the last great -day, when the warrior must give account of what he has -done with his sword, and the merchant what he has done -with his yard stick, and the mason what he has done with -his trowel, and the artist what he has done with his pencil, -we shall have to give account of what we have done -with our pen. There are gold pens and diamond pens, and -pens of exquisite manufacture, and every few weeks I see -some new kind of pen, each said to be better than the other; -but in the great day of our arraignment before the Judge -of the quick and dead, that will be the most beautiful pen, -whether gold or steel or quill, which never wrote a profane -or unclean or cruel word, or which from the day it -was carved or split at the nib, dropped from its point -kindness and encouragement, and help and gratitude to -God and benediction for man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>May God comfort that torn up Southern home, and all -the homes of this country, and of all the world, which have -been swept by this plague of influenza, which has deepened -sometimes into pneumonia and sometimes into typhus, and -the victims of which are counted by the ten thousand, -Satan, who is the “prince of the power of the air,” has -been poisoning the atmosphere in all nations. Though it -is the first time in our remembrance, he has done the same -thing before. In 1696 the unwholesome air of Cairo, Egypt, -destroyed the life of ten thousand in one day, and in Constantinople -in 1714 three hundred thousand people died of -it. I am glad that by the better sanitation of our cities and -wider understanding of hygienic laws and the greater skill -of physicians these Apollyonic assaults upon the human -race are being resisted, but pestilential atmosphere is still -abroad. Hardly a family here but has felt its lighter or -heavier touch. Some of the best of my flock fell under its -<span class='pageno' id='Page_439'>439</span>power and many homes here represented have been crushed. -The fact is the biggest failure in the universe is this world, -if there be no heaven beyond. But there is, and the friends -who have gone there are many, and very dear. Oh, tearful -eyes, look up to the hills crimsoning with eternal morn! -That reunion kiss will more than make up for the parting -kiss, and the welcome will obliterate the good-by. “The -Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall lead them -to living fountains of water and God shall wipe away all -tears from their eyes.” Till then, O departed loved ones, -promise us that you will remember us, as we promise to -remember you. And some of you gone up from this city -by the sea, and others from under southern skies and others -from the homes of the more rigorous North and some from -the cabins on great western farms, we shall meet again when -our pen has written its last word and our arm has done its -last day’s work and our lips have spoken their last adieu.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And now, thou great and magnificent soul of editor and -orator! under brighter skies we shall meet again. From -God thou camest, and to God thou hast returned. Not -broken down, but ascended. Not collapsed, but irradiated. -Enthroned one! Coroneted one! Sceptered one! Emparadised -one! Hail and farewell!</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_441'>441</span><span class='c029'>TRIBUTES</span></div> - <div class='c000'>OF THE</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='c029'>NORTHERN PRESS.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_443'>443</span> - <h3 class='c016'>HE WAS THE EMBODIMENT OF THE SPIRIT OF THE NEW SOUTH.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “New York World.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>AS the soldier falls upon the battle-field in the line of -duty, so died Henry Woodfin Grady, the progressive -editor of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>. Mr. Grady came -to the North twelve days ago, with his fatal illness -upon him, against the entreaties of his family, to speak -a word for the South, to the mind and conscience of -New England. He performed his task in splendid spirit, -and with the effective and moving eloquence that were -always his, and then returned home to die. It is -highly probable that if he had not gone to Boston he -would be living and writing to-day. It is as more -than a journalist or an orator, that Mr. Grady is to be -counted. He was admirable as both, but he was more -than a Southerner, a peacemaker between the sections. -He was intensely Southern, filled full of all the traditions -of his people, proud of them and their past, but he accepted -the new order with the magnificent enthusiasm of his intense -nature, and became the embodiment of the spirit of -the New South. More than any other man of this section, -he had the ear of the people of the North. They believed -the patriotic assurances which he made in behalf of his -people, because they knew him to be honest and sincere -and thoroughly devoted to all that makes for the best in -public affairs. His influence in Atlanta and throughout -the South was deservedly great. No Southerner could -have been so ill-spared as this young man, whose future -only a day or two ago seemed brilliant to a degree. His -death is a wonderfully great bereavement, and not only -to his family and the community in which he lived and -labored, but the whole country, whose peace and unity and -kindly sentiment he did so much to promote.</p> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_444'>444</span> - <h3 class='c016'>A THOROUGHLY AMERICAN JOURNALIST.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “New York Herald.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Mr. Grady’s</span> death will be deeply and justly regretted -all over the country. He had, though still a young -man, made for himself a national reputation, and by -his steadfast counsels for peace and good will, and by his -intelligent devotion to the development of his State and -of the South, had won the good will of North and South -alike.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is seldom that so good a journalist is at the same time -so brilliant and effective an orator as Mr. Grady was. The -reason probably is that when he spoke he had something to -say, and that he was of so cheerful and hopeful a spirit -that he was able to affect his hearers with his own optimism. -In that he was a thorough American, for, as one of the -shrewdest New Yorkers once said, “This is a bull country, -and the bears have the wrong philosophy for the American -people.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>For that training which made him not only a brilliant -and successful, but, what is better, a broadly intelligent -and useful journalist, the <i>Herald</i> claims a not inconsiderable -share of credit, which Mr. Grady himself was accustomed -to give it. The <i>Herald</i> was his early and best school. -As a correspondent of this journal he first made his mark -by the fearless accuracy of his reports of some exciting -scenes in the reconstruction period. He showed in those -days so keen an eye as an observer, united with such rapid -and just judgment of the bearings of facts, that his reports -in the <i>Herald</i> attracted general attention and were recognized -freely, even by those whom they inconvenienced, as -the clearest, the most truthful, and the most just reports -<span class='pageno' id='Page_445'>445</span>made of those events. He was then still a very young man; -but he quickly saw that the province of a newspaper, and -of a reporter of events for it, is to tell the exact truth, to -tell it simply and straightforwardly, and without fear, -favor or prejudice. This is what he learned from his connection -with the <i>Herald</i>, and this lesson he carried into his -own able journal, the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It does not often happen that so young a man as Mr. -Grady was makes so great and widespread a reputation, -and this without any of the tricks of self-puffery which -are the cheap resort of too many young men ambitious of -fame, or what they mistake for fame—notoriety.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In Mr. Grady’s untimely death the country loses one -of its foremost and most clear-headed journalists, and his -State one of its most eminent and justly admired citizens.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A LOSS TO THE WHOLE COUNTRY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “New York Tribune.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry Grady is a loss to the whole country, -but there is some consolation in the general recognition -of this fact. During his brief career as a public man he -has said many things that it was profitable for both North -and South to hear, and he has said them in such a way as -to enhance their significance. As editor of one of the few -widely influential papers of the South, he possessed an -opportunity, which he had also in great measure created, of -impressing his opinions upon Southern society, but it was -to a few occasional addresses in Northern cities that he -chiefly owed his national reputation. His rhetorical gifts -were not of the highest order, but he had command of a -style of speaking which was most effective for his purposes. -It was marked by the Celtic characteristic of exuberance, -but it was so agreeable and inspiring that he was able to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_446'>446</span>command at will audiences at home and abroad. When -so endowed he has also a significant message to deliver, and -is, moreover, animated by a sincere desire to serve his -generation to the full measure of his ability, the loss which -his death inflicts is not easily repaired. The whole -country will unite in deploring the sudden extinction of a -faithful life. Mr. Grady’s zeal, activity and patriotism -were fully recognized in the North, as we have said, but -yet it was pre-eminently to his own people that he was an -example and inspiration. His loyalty to the cause in which -his father fell was untinged with bitterness, and he never -permitted himself to imagine that vain regrets were more -sacred than present obligations. He was an admirable -illustration of that sagacious and progressive spirit which -is gradually, but surely, renewing the South, and which, -though it still lacks something of being altogether equal to -its opportunities, does nevertheless recognize the fact that -“new occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good -uncouth.”</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>WHAT HENRY W. GRADY REPRESENTED.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “New York Commercial Advertiser.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>What</span> undoubtedly interested and fascinated people -most in the late Henry W. Grady was the fact that he -represented an order of genius now almost extinct in our -country, and yet one in which some of the favorite episodes -of its history are entwined. The orator who appealed at -once to the reason and the feelings was beyond question -the foremost power of our early national century of history. -He was not predominant in the councils which founded our -government, nor in the first decade of its administration; -because the duties of that period called for the calm deliberations -of statesmen rather than the arousing of voters to -action. As this era of national infancy drew to its close, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_447'>447</span>and the gigantic problems, destined at a later day to involve -the nation in civil war, came forth into sudden prominence, -the orator became the central figure of the national -stage. The rank and file gave their allegiance to their -chosen oratorical leader. He spoke in their behalf in Congress; -he defined in all political gatherings the will and -purposes of his constituents; and not less powerfully was -his influence exerted to shape those opinions and purposes. -Indeed, the speeches of Clay, Calhoun and Webster, and -at a later day of Douglas and Lincoln, are better understood -when regarded as shaping public opinion than as following -the popular will already formed. The speeches of -these leaders supplied the need which is now met by the -newspaper editorial in journals of influence and public -spirit. Like the newspaper of this later day, the American -orator of half a century ago was quick to note a change -in the trend of public sentiment, and at his best fearless in -leading the movement even before the popular mind had -given assent.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The civil war brought to a close the epoch in which -flourished this interesting and impressive figure of our earlier -politics. To-day, partly because of the greater diffusion -of news and intelligence, partly by reason of the more -technical and analytical character of the national problems -which confront us, he has quite disappeared from the -political stage. One need only recall the congressional or -campaign speeches of our ablest public speakers to appreciate -the truth of this. It was Mr. Grady’s good fortune -that he, equipped with the keen insight and fervid eloquence -of our old public leaders, was placed in an epoch -and a community where the reconciling of the North and -the South called for just these powers. Presently, when -the wave of closer commercial intercourse and the better -mutual understanding shall have swept with unprecedented -rapidity over the whole nation, the feelings which made -such mediation necessary will be quite dead. But the -work of the men who led the way is not likely to be forgotten.</p> -<hr class='c047' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_448'>448</span> - <h3 class='c016'>A FAR-SIGHTED STATESMAN.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “New York Star.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady is a very much greater -national loss than the public will at first concede; and -while his death will be regretted, not only by the Democracy -of the country, but by all patriotic citizens, few will -recognize that he was one of the few prominent young men, -who were children during the War, who labored to obliterate -absolutely the animosity it engendered. We believe -that if the circumstance of his prominent position had not -silenced Jefferson Davis, who died almost simultaneously -with this youth, he, too, would have been found advocating -the truth that the Union of these States is homogeneous, -and that Union is worth all the sacrifices it cost.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The young Atlanta editor has, during the past few years, -done as much as any other public man toward the accomplishment -of perfect reunion and for the prosperity of his -State and section. His later addresses had been specially -characterized by a broad grasp of political and industrial -problems that entitled him to high rank as an accomplished -and far-sighted statesman.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There have been few more interesting personalities in the -life of the country in the past decade, and there was no -man of his years with brighter prospects than Grady at the -time of his last visit to the North, which will be memorable -as the occasion of his most comprehensive and effective -address on his constant theme of American prosperity -through fraternity.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>AN APOSTLE OF THE NEW FAITH.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “New York Times.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Few</span> men who have never entered the public service -were more widely known throughout the country than -Henry W. Grady, who died at Atlanta, and the death of only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_449'>449</span>a few even of those who have won the honors and the prominence -of public life would be more sincerely deplored. Ten -years ago Mr. Grady had made himself known in the South -by the fervency of his devotion to her interests and by the -unusual ability he displayed in his newspaper work, and -the people of the South met his devotion with characteristic -warmth of affection and generosity of praise. A little -later he was recognized in the North as an eloquent -interpreter of the new spirit which had awakened and -possessed the South. His speech at the dinner of the New -England Society three years ago was only an expression -from a more conspicuous platform of the sentiments which -had long inspired his daily writing. And it was not merely -as an interpreter of Southern feeling that Mr. Grady was -entitled to recognition. In a large measure he was the -creator of the spirit that now animates the South. He was -an apostle of the new faith. He exhorted the people of the -Southern States to concern themselves no longer about what -they had lost, but to busy themselves with what they might -find to do, to consecrate the memories of the war if they -would, but to put the whole strength of their minds and -bodies into the building up of the New South. To his -teaching and his example, as much as to any other single -influence perhaps, the South owes the impulses of material -advancement, of downright hard work, and that well-nigh -complete reconciliation to the conditions and duties of the -present and the future that distinguish her to-day.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE FOREMOST LEADER.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “New York Christian Union.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady, at Atlanta, on Monday -of this week, was a loss, not only to his own section, but -to the country. Although a young man, and not in political -life, Mr. Grady had already acquired a national reputation. -It is only three years since he delivered the speech -at the New England dinner in this city, which gave a sudden -<span class='pageno' id='Page_450'>450</span>expansion to a reputation already rapidly extending, -and made his name known in every State in the Union. -Mr. Grady was a typical Southern man, ardent in his love -for his own section, loyal to the memory of those who -fought in the struggle of a quarter of a century ago, but -equally loyal to the duties and the nation of to-day. -Warm-hearted, generous, and of a fervid imagination, Mr. -Grady’s oratory recalled the best traditions of the Southern -style; and the sincerity and geniality of his nature -evoked the confidence and regard of his audience, while -his eloquence thrilled them. His latest speech was delivered -in Boston two weeks ago, on the race question, and -was one of those rare addresses which carry with them an -immediate broadening of the views of every auditor. -Among the men of his own section Mr. Grady was probably -the foremost leader of progressive ideas, and his death -becomes for that reason a national loss.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A GLORIOUS MISSION.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the Albany, N.Y., “Argus.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>All</span> who admire true patriotism, brilliant talents, golden -eloquence and ripe judgment, will regret the untimely -taking off of the gifted Southern journalist and orator, -Henry W. Grady, in the very zenith of his powers and -fame. His eloquent address at the annual banquet of the -Boston Merchants’ Association is still fresh in the minds -of those who listened to him or read his glowing words in -the columns of the press. It was the last and grandest -effort of the brilliant young Southerner. It was the -defense of his beloved South against the calumnies cast -upon her, and the most lucid, convincing exposition of the -race question ever presented at a public assemblage. Impassioned -and heartfelt was his plea for Union and the -abandonment of all sectionalism. These closing words of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_451'>451</span>his address might fitly be inscribed upon his tomb: “Let -us resolve to crown the miracles of our past with the spectacle -of a Republic, compact, united, indissoluble in the -bonds of love—loving from the Lakes to the Gulf—the -wounds of war healed in every heart as on every hill—serene -and resplendent at the summit of human achievement -and earthly glory—blazing out the path, and making -clear the way up which all the nations of the earth must -come in God’s appointed time.” The words were all the -more emphatic and convincing because they were spoken -in the presence of an ex-president whose entire administration -had been consecrated to such a Union of all sections, -and who accomplished more in the grand work of obliterating -the last traces of sectional strife and division than -any other man who sat in the national executive chair.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Well may the South mourn over this fervid advocate of -her honor, her rights, her interests, and regard his death a -public calamity. Eloquence such as his is rarely given to -men, and it was devoted wholly to his beloved land. It -has done more to break down the barriers of prejudice and -passion than a decade of homilies, dry arguments and -elaborate statistics could effect. His was a most glorious -mission, the bringing together in the closest bonds of fraternal -love and confidence the sections which partisan -malice, political selfishness and unconscionable malignity -would keep apart. Whenever he spoke, the earnestness -of his convictions, expressed in the noblest language, -impressed itself upon the intelligence of his hearers. His -last appeal, made, as he described it, “within touch of -Plymouth Rock and Bunker Hill, where Webster thundered -and Longfellow sang, and Emerson thought and -Channing preached,” melted away the most hardened -prejudice and enkindled in the New England heart the -spirit of respect and sympathy for the brave, single-minded -people of the South, who are so patiently and determinedly -working out their destiny to make their beautiful land the -abode of unalloyed peace and prosperity. Journalism will -also mourn the loss of one of its brightest representatives. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_452'>452</span>Henry W. Grady shone in the columns of his newspaper, -the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>, with no less brilliancy than he -did as an orator. Under his guidance that paper has -become one of the brightest in the land. It will be difficult -for the South to supply his place as patriot, journalist -and orator. He was an effective foil to the Eliza Pinkston -class of statesmen in and out of Congress.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HIS LOFTY IDEAL.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Philadelphia Press.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Few</span> men die at thirty-eight whose departure is felt -as a national loss, but Henry W. Grady was one. At an -age when most men are just beginning to be known in -their own States and to be recognized in their own section, -he was known to the nation and recognized by the American -people. At the South he represented the new pride in -the material revival of a section desolated by the war. At -the North he stood for loyal and enthusiastic support by -the South of the new claims of the Union. His every -appearance before the public was one more proof to the -nation that the sons of those who fought the war were -again one people and under one flag, cherishing different -memories in the past, but pressing forward to the same -lofty ideal of a homogeneous democratic society under -republican institutions.</p> - -<p class='c018'>If Henry W. Grady spoke at the North he spoke for -the South; if he spoke at the South he stood for Northern -ideas in his own land. He was none the less true in both -attitudes that his utterances were insensibly modified by -his audiences. Eloquent, magnetic, impressionable, sharing -to the full the sympathy every great speaker always has -with his audience, his sentiment swung from extreme to -extreme as he stood on a Northern or a Southern platform. -It was always easy to pick flaws in them. Now and then -<span class='pageno' id='Page_453'>453</span>his rhetorical sympathies placed him in a false position. -But it was the inevitable condition of work like his that he -should express extremes. If he had not felt and voiced -the pride with which every Southerner must and should -look back to the deathless valor of men we all rejoice to -claim as Americans, he would have been worthless as a -representative of the South. If he had not thrilled earlier -than his fellows to the splendid national heritage with -which defeat had dowered his people, he could never have -awakened the applause of Northern audiences by expressions -of loyalty and devotion to our common nation.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This service to both sections sprang from something -more than sympathy. A moral courage Northern men -can little understand was needed for him to oppose -Southern treatment of the negro. Energy and industry, -unknown among his fellows, were needed in the leadership -he undertook in the material development of his State -and section. It is easy now to see the enormous profit -which lay in the material development of Georgia. Far-sighted -provision was needed to urge the policy and aid -the combination which made it possible ten years ago.</p> - -<p class='c018'>No one but a journalist, we are proud to say, could -have done Mr. Grady’s work, and he brought to the work -of journalism some of its highest qualifications. Ability -as a writer, keen appreciation of “news,” and tireless -industry, which he had, must all be held second to the -power he possessed in an eminent degree of divining the -drift and tendency of public feeling, being neither too -early to lead it nor too late to control it. This divination -Mr. Grady was daily displaying and he never made better -use of it than in his last speech in Boston, the best of his -life, in which he rose from mere rhetoric to a clear, earnest -and convincing handling of fact. A great future was -before him, all too soon cut off. He leaves to all journalists -the inspiring example of the great opportunities which -their profession offers to serve the progress of men and aid -the advance of nations, by speaking to the present of the -bright and radiant light of the future, and rising above the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_454'>454</span>claims of party and the prejudice of locality to advocate -the higher claims of patriotism and humanity.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HIS PATRIOTISM.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Philadelphia Ledger.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady, which occurred almost -at the dawning of this beneficent Christmas time, did not -“eclipse the gayety of nations,” as it was long ago said the -death of another illustrious person did, but it still casts a -shadow over his native land—a shadow which falls heavily -upon all those of his countrymen who knew, honored and -loved the man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry W. Grady was one of the youngest, the most -brilliant, the best beloved of the young men of his country -who, since the war of secession, won distinction in public -life. Whether considered as a writer or an orator, his -talents were extraordinary. His language was strong, -refined, and, in its poetic warmth and elegance, singularly -beautiful. But that which gave to it its greatest value and -charm was the wisdom of the thought, the sincerity of the -high conscience of which it was the expression. It was -given to him as it is to so few—the ability to wed noble -thoughts to noble words—to make the pen more convincing -than the sword in argument, to make the tongue proclaim -“the Veritas that lurks beneath the letter’s unprolific -sheath.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry W. Grady was, in the truest sense, an American; -his love of country, his unselfish devotion to it, were unquestioned -and unquestionable; but he sought to serve it -best by best serving the South, which he so greatly loved -and which so loved and honored him. It was the New South -of human freedom, material progress—not the Old South of -chattel slavery and material sluggishness—of which he was -the representative, the prophet. It was the South of to-day, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_455'>455</span>which has put off the bitternesses, defeats and animosities -of the war; which has put on the sentient spirit of real -union, of marvelous physical development, which advances -day by day to wealth, dignity and greatness by gigantic -strides. This was the South that he glorified with pen and -tongue, and which he sought with earnest, zealous love to -bring into closer, warmer fraternity with the North and the -North with it.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The story of the shield which hung in the forest, and -which, to the traveler coming from the North, seemed to -be made of gold, and to the traveler journeying from the -South, to be made of silver, is an old one. But it has its -new significance in every great matter to which there are -two sides, and which is looked at by those approaching it -from different directions from their respective points of -view. He saw but one side of the race question—the -Southern side, and for that he strenuously contended only -a few days before his death, in the very shadow of Faneuil -Hall, or, as he finely said: “Here, within touch of Plymouth -Rock and Bunker Hill—where Webster thundered -and Longfellow sang, Emerson thought and Channing -preached—here, in the cradle of American letters and of -American liberty.” It was in the house of his antagonists -that he fought for the side which he thought good and just, -and if in doing so he did not convince, he was listened to -with respect and admiration.</p> - -<p class='c018'>That is a question not to be discussed here and now, and -it is referred to only to show the courage of Mr. Grady in -defence of his convictions, for they were convictions, and -honest ones, and not mere political or sectional opinions. -Apart from the race question, Mr. Grady was a man of -peace, who, whether writing in his own influential journal -in the South, or speaking in Boston, his tongue and voice -were alike for peace, good will, unity of interest, thought -and feeling. In his address of the 13th instant, at the -Boston banquet, Mr. Grady said:</p> - -<p class='c018'>“A mighty duty, sir, a mighty inspiration impels every -one of us to-night to lose in patriotic consecration whatever -<span class='pageno' id='Page_456'>456</span>estranges, whatever divides. We, sir, are Americans, -and we stand for human liberty! The uplifting force of -the American idea is under every throne on earth. France, -Brazil—these are our victories. To redeem the earth from -kingcraft and oppression, this is our mission! And we -shall not fail. God has sown in our soil the seed of His -millennial harvest, and He will not lay the sickle to the -ripening crop until His full and perfect day has come. Our -history, sir, has been a constant and expanding miracle -from Plymouth Rock and Jamestown all the way—aye, -even from the hour when, from the voiceless and trackless -ocean, a new world rose to the sight of the inspired sailor. -As we approach the fourth centennial of that stupendous -day—when the Old World will come to marvel and to learn, -amid our gathered treasures—let us resolve to crown the -miracles of our past with the spectacle of a republic, compact, -united, indissoluble in the bonds of love—loving from -the Lakes to the Gulf—the wounds of war healed in every -heart as on every hill—serene and resplendent at the -summit of human achievement and earthly glory—blazing -out the path and making clear the way up which all the -nations of the earth must come in God’s appointed time.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The fine expression of these lofty sentiments shows the -eloquence of the man, but, better than that, they themselves -show the broad and noble spirit of his patriotism. -And the man that his countrymen so admired and honored -is dead, his usefulness ended, his voice silent, his pen idle -forever, and he so young. There are no accidents, said -Charles Sumner, in the economy of Providence; nor are -there. The death of Henry W. Grady, which seems so -premature, is yet part of the inscrutable design the perfectness -of which may not be questioned, and out of it good -will come which is now hidden. He was of those great -spirits of whom Lowell sang:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“We find in our dull road their shining track;</div> - <div class='line in2'>In every noble mood</div> - <div class='line'>We feel the Orient of their spirit glow,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Part of our life’s unalterable good,</div> - <div class='line'>Of all our saintlier aspirations!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c024'><span class='pageno' id='Page_457'>457</span>He was of those who even through death do good, and so -posthumously work out the economy of Providence, for</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in2'>“As thrills of long-hushed tone</div> - <div class='line'>Live in the viol, so our souls grow fine</div> - <div class='line'>With keen vibrations from the touch divine</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of Nobler natures gone.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>ORATORY AND THE PRESS.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Boston Advertiser.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> lamented death of Mr. H. W. Grady affords a fit -occasion for saying that oratory is not one of “the lost -arts.” A great deal is said from time to time about the -decadence of oratory as caused by the competition of the -press. We are told that public address is held in slight -esteem because the public prints are much more accessible -and equally interesting. It is said that this operates in two -ways, that the man who has something to say will always -prefer to write rather than speak, because the printed page -reaches tens of thousands, while the human voice can at -most be heard by a few hundreds, and that not many people -will take the trouble to attend a lecture when they can -read discussions of the same subject by the lecturer himself, -or others equally competent, without stirring from the -evening lamp or exchanging slippers for boots. But there -is a great deal of fallacy in such arguments. The press is -the ally, not the supplanter of the platform. The functions -of the two are so distinct that they cannot clash, yet -so related that they are mutually helpful. Oratory is very -much more than the vocal utterance, of fitting words. One -of the ancients defined the three requisites of an orator as -first, action; second, action; and third, action. If by -action is meant all that accompanies speech, as gesture, -emphasis, intonation, variety in time, and those subtle -expressions that come through the flushing cheek and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_458'>458</span>gleaming eye, the enumeration was complete. Mr. Grady -spoke with his lips not only, but with every form and -feature of his bodily presence. Such oratory as his, and -such as that of the man whose lecture on “The Lost Arts” -proved that oratory is not one of them, will never be out of -date while human nature remains what it is. There is, -indeed, one class of public speakers whose occupation the -press has nearly taken away. They are the “orators,” -falsely so called, whose speech is full of sound and fury, -signifying nothing. Cold type is fatal to their pretensions.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE LESSON OF MR. GRADY’S LIFE.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Philadelphia Times.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span> is dead, but the lesson of his life -will live and bear fruits for years to come. The young -men of the South will not fail to note that the public journals -of every faith in the North have discussed his life and -death in the sincerest sympathy, and that not only his -ability but his candor and courage have elicited universal -commendation. Had Mr. Grady been anything less than -a sincere Southerner in sympathy and conviction, he could -have commanded the regulation praise of party organs in -political conflicts, but he would have died little regretted -in either section. He was a true son of the South; faithful -to its interests, to its convictions, to its traditions; and -he proved how plain was the way for the honest Southerner -to be an honest patriot and a devoted supporter of the -Union.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There are scores of men in the South, or who have lived -there, and who have filled the highest public trusts within -the gifts of their States, without commanding the sympathy -or respect of any section of the country. Of the -South, they were not in sympathy with their people -or interests, and they have played their brief and accidental -<span class='pageno' id='Page_459'>459</span>parts only to be forgotten when their work was -done. They did not speak for the South; they were -instruments of discord rather than of tranquility, and they -left no impress upon the convictions or pulsations of either -section.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But Mr. Grady was a true, able, candid, courageous -son of the South, and he was as much respected under the -shadows of Bunker Hill as in Georgia. Sincerely Southern -in every sympathy, he was welcomed North and South as -a patriot; and long after the Mahones and the Chalmers -shall have been charitably forgotten, the name of Grady -will be fresh in the greenest memories of the whole people -of the country.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There is no better lesson for the young men of the South -to study than the life, the aims and the efforts of Mr. Grady -and the universal gratitude he commanded from every -section. He was beloved in the South, where his noble -qualities were commonly known, but he was respected in -the North as an honest Southerner, who knew how to be -true to his birthright and true to the Republic. The -Northern press of every shade of political conviction has -united in generous tribute to the young patriot of Georgia, -and if his death shall widen and deepen the appreciation -of his achievement among the young men of the South who -must soon be the actors of the day, he may yet teach even -more eloquently and successfully in the dreamless sleep of -the grave than his matchless oratory ever taught in Atlanta -or Boston.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HIS LOSS A GENERAL CALAMITY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>Front the “St. Louis Globe-Democrat.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> sudden and lamentable death of Henry W. Grady -will eclipse the gayety of the Christmas season in the South. -He was a popular favorite throughout that section, and his -loss is a general calamity. His public career was yet in its -<span class='pageno' id='Page_460'>460</span>beginning. He had distinguished himself as an editor and -as an orator, and high political honors awaited him quite -as a matter of course. His qualities of head and heart -fitted him admirably for the service of the people, and they -trusted and loved him as they did no other of the younger -Southern leaders. He believed in the new order of things, -and was anxious to see the South redeemed from the blunders -and superstitions of the past, and started on a career -of rational and substantial progress. In the nature of -things, he was obliged now and then to humor sectional -prejudice, but he did it always in a graceful way, and set -an example of moderation and good temper that was -greatly to his credit. Without sacrificing in the least his -honor or his sincerity as a devoted son of the South, he -gave candid and appreciative recognition to the virtues of -the North, and made himself at home in Boston the same -as in Atlanta. The war was over with him in the best -sense. He looked to the future, and all his aspirations -were generous and wholesome.</p> - -<p class='c018'>If the political affairs of the South were in the control -of men of the Grady pattern, a vast improvement would -soon be made. He did not hesitate to denounce the -methods which have so often brought deserved reproach -upon the Southern people. He was not in sympathy with -the theory that violence and fraud may be properly invoked -to decide elections and shape the course of legislation. -His impulses as a partisan stopped short of the feeling -that everything is fair in politics. He did much to -mollify and elevate the tone of public sentiment; and he -would have done a great deal more if he had been spared -to continue his salutary work. His loss is one of that kind -which makes the decrees of fate so hard to understand. -There was every reason why he should live and prosper. -His opportunities of usefulness were abundant; his State -and his country needed him; there was certain distinction -in store for him. Under such circumstances death comes -not as a logical result, but as an arbitrary interference with -reasonable conditions and conceptions. We are bound to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_461'>461</span>believe that the mystery has been made plain to the man -himself; but here it is insoluble. The lesson of his sterling -integrity, his patriotism and his cheerfulness is left, however, -for his countrymen to study and enforce. Let us -hope that in the South particularly it will not be neglected.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>SADDEST OF SEQUELS.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Manchester, N.H., Union.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady, the brilliant journalist -and eloquent orator, will be sincerely deplored throughout -the country. It is especially untimely, coming as it does -as the saddest of sequels to a tour which promised much -in the beginning, and which, in all save this ending, more -than fulfilled the expectations of his friends. His brilliant -speech in Boston was his last great effort, and it will long -be remembered as one of his best. In it he plead, as it -now proves, with the lips of a dying man, for true fraternity -between the North and South. Had he lived, his burning -appeals would have moved the country deeply. Now -that it is known that the effort cost him his life, his words -will have a touch of pathos in them as they are recalled by -the men of all parties and all sections to whom they were -so earnestly addressed. But even this increased effect -given to his last appeal to the North will not compensate -for the loss of such a man at this time. Henry W. Grady -was distinctively the representative of the New South. -Too young to have had an active part in the great struggle -between the states, he came into active life at just the time -when men like him were needed. His face was set toward -the future. He belonged to and was identified with the -progressive element which has already accomplished so -much of positive achievement in the Southern States. He -was a Southern man, recognized as a leader by Southern -men, but with a breadth of mind and purpose which made -<span class='pageno' id='Page_462'>462</span>him a part of the entire country. Under his leadership -the South was sure to make progress, but its rapid march -was to be to the music of the Union, and with every step -the North and South were to be nearer together than at -any previous time since the adoption of the Constitution. -But his part in the great work is ended. His passionate -voice is stilled and his active brain is at rest at a time in -life when most men are entering upon their most effective -work. Had he lived, a brilliant future was already assured -to him, a future of leadership and of tremendous influence -in public affairs. But his untimely death ends all. Others -will take up his work as best they may; the New South -will go forward with the development of its material interests, -old animosities will fade away and the North and -South will gradually come together in harmony of spirit -and purpose, but the man of all others who seemed destined -to lead in the great movement will have no further -share in it. The South will mourn his early death most -deeply, and the North will throw off its reserve sufficiently -to extend its sincere sympathy, feeling that when such a -man dies the loss is the nation’s rather than that of a -single state or of a group of states.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A LIFE OF PROMISE.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Chicago Inter-Ocean.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>In</span> the death of Henry W. Grady, which occurred yesterday, -journalism, the South, and the whole country suffered -serious loss. He had come to occupy a large place, -and one which cannot be filled. He was a connecting link -between the old and the new South, with his face toward -the East, albeit the shadows of the setting sun could be -clearly discerned in his discussions of the vital questions -of the day. His life seemed just begun, and big in the -promise of usefulness. Two years ago he was known only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_463'>463</span>as a journalist. He addressed the New England Society of -New York on the evening of December 29, 1887. That -speech made him famous. Since then his name has been -a household word. For him to be stricken down at the -early age of thirty-nine is little if any short of a public -calamity.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is a dangerous thing for a man of serious purpose to -win renown as an after-dinner speaker. Post-prandial -oratory is generally a kind of champagne, as effervescent -as it is sparkling, but Mr. Grady struck a vein of thought at -that New England banquet which had in it all the earnestness -of patriotism. A Southerner with a strong sectional -flavor, his influence, as a whole, was broadening. He -never rose superior to the prejudice of race, but it may -well be doubted if any Southerner could do so in these -days without cutting himself off from all influence over -his own people. There is nowhere visible in the Southern -heavens the dawn of the day of equal justice, irrespective -of race. In that regard Mr. Grady was neither better nor -worse than his white neighbors. But with that exception -his patriotism had largely outgrown its provincial environments.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was a native of Georgia. His father seems -to have been a follower of Alex. H. Stephens, for he was a -Union man until the final test came, when he took up arms -for the Confederacy, meeting death for the cause of his -reluctant espousal. A graduate of the University of Georgia -and later of the University of Virginia, the son had the best -education the South could give. His newspaper life began -early and was never interrupted. For several years he was -co-editor and co-proprietor of the Atlanta Constitution, -confessedly one of the leading newspapers of the country. -Previous to his connection with the <i>Constitution</i> he was -the correspondent of the <i>Inter-Ocean</i> and the New York -<i>Herald</i>. Both as editor and correspondent he excelled. -Both as editor and orator he has at different times spoken -eloquently of both Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis -his point of view being intermediate, and that fact, rather -<span class='pageno' id='Page_464'>464</span>than any conscious vacillation, explains his seeming contradictions.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A few days ago the Southern people stood with -uncovered heads by the grave of Jefferson Davis, the most -conspicuous representative of the Old South, and now, -before they had fairly returned from that funeral, they are -called upon to attend the obsequies of the most conspicuous -representative of the New South. These two notable -men present much the same blending of resemblance and -contrast, as do the evening and the morning stars. Certainly -Mr. Grady, young, enthusiastic, and patriotic, was -to the South a harbinger of brighter, more prosperous -days.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>ELECTRIFIED THE WHOLE COUNTRY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Pittsburgh Dispatch.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> Christmas holidays, North and South, are saddened -by the death of Henry W. Grady, the interesting -young journalist of Atlanta, whose words of patriotism -and of manly hope and encouragement for all sections, have -more than once within a few years electrified the whole -country. Mr. Grady won fame early, and in an uncommon -manner. Though locally known in the South as a capable -newspaper man, his name was not familiar to the general -public until a few years ago, when, by a single speech at a -banquet in a northern city, he attracted universal attention. -Since then his utterances have carried weight, and -scarcely a man speaking or writing on public topics has -been more respectfully heard.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The key-note of Mr. Grady’s speeches on the South was -that the past belief of its people in the “Lost Cause,” -and their continued personal admiration for their leaders, -should not and did not prevent them from accepting fully -and in perfect good faith the results as they stand. He -argued that the best elements, including the new generation, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_465'>465</span>were only too willing and anxious to treat of the past -as a condition wholly and irrevocably past—and, at that, -a past which they would not recall if they could. From -the North he asked a recognition of this new feeling, and -the magnanimous consideration which would not assume -that the South was still disloyal or rebellious merely -because it refused to condemn itself and its leaders for the -mistakes which brought it disaster.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The efforts of the deceased were to promote patriotic -devotion to the Union in the South, and to induce the -North to believe that the feeling existed. His evident sincerity -and his eloquence in presenting the situation won -cordial approval in the North, while in his own section he -was applauded with equal warmth. His death will be very -widely and deeply regretted, as that of a man of high and -generous feeling whose influence, had he lived, promised -to make for whatever was noble and good.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A LARGE BRAIN AND A LARGE HEART.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Elmira, N.Y., Advertiser.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Throughout</span> the entire North as well as in the South -will there be heartfelt and sincere mourning over the death -of this most distinguished editor on the other side of -Mason and Dixon’s line. It was only ten days ago that -he came North and delivered an address at the annual dinner -of the Merchant’s Club of Boston, following it on the -next evening with a speech before the Bay State Club, a -Democratic organization. While on this trip Mr. Grady -contracted a severe cold which was the immediate cause of -his death yesterday morning.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The dead editor was a man of large brain and large -heart. His hope was in the future of the South and he -worked for the results which his prophetic ken perceived -ahead of its present with great earnestness and great judgment. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_466'>466</span>Since he became the editor of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> -he has labored unceasingly to remedy the unfortunate -conditions which operated against the progress and -development of the South. Under his inspiring leadership -and wise counsel many enterprises have been started and -encouraged. There is no other one man to whom the New -South owes so much as to Henry W. Grady. When he -came to New York City two years ago, and in a notable -address there told the people what this New South had -done and was trying to do, the public was astonished at -his statistics. The speech was so eloquent, so earnest, so -broadly American in tone and spirit that it attracted wide -attention and sent a thrill of admiration to the heart of -every gratified reader. It made him not only famous but -popular all through the North. This fame and popularity -were increased by his recent excellent addresses in Boston. -The <i>Advertiser</i> published, on Thursday last, on the -fourth page, an extract from one of these speeches, entitled -“The Hope of the Republic,” and we can do the dead man -no better honor than to recommend to our readers that -they turn back and read that extract again. It expresses -the purest sentiment and highest appreciation of the foundation -principles of the Republic.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was a Democrat and a Southern Democrat. -Yet he was a protectionist and believed that the development -of the South depended upon the maintenance of the -protective tariff. Under it the iron manufactures and various -products of the soil in that section of our country have -been increased to a wonderful extent while the general -business interests have strengthened to a remarkable degree. -Mr. Grady has encouraged the incoming of Northern -laborers and capitalists and aided every legitimate -enterprise. He has been a politician, always true to his -party’s candidates, though he has been somewhat at variance -with his party’s tariff policy. He has been a good -man, a noble, true Christian gentleman, an earnest, faithful -editor and a model laborer for the promotion of his -people’s interests.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_467'>467</span> - <h3 class='c016'>THE MODEL CITIZEN.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Boston Globe.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span> dead? It seems almost impossible.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Only ten days ago his fervid oratory rang out in a Boston -banquet hall, and enchanted the hundreds of Boston’s -business men who heard it. Only nine days ago the newspapers -carried his glowing words and great thoughts into -millions of homes. And now he lies in the South he loved -so well—dead!</p> - -<p class='c018'>“He has work yet to do,” said the physician, as the -great orator lay dying. “Perhaps his work is finished,” -replied Mr. Grady’s mother. She was right. To the physician, -as to many others, it must have seemed that Mr. -Grady’s work was just beginning; that not much had yet -been accomplished. For he was young; only thirty-eight -years old. He had never held a public office, and there is -a current delusion that office is the necessary condition of -success for those endowed with political talents. But Mr. -Grady had done his work, and it was a great work, too. -He had done more, perhaps, than any other man to destroy -the lingering animosities of the war and re-establish cordial -relations between North and South. His silvery speech -and graphic imagery had opened the minds of thousands -of influential men of the North to a truer conception of the -South. He had shown them that the Old South was a -memory only; the New South a reality. And he had done -more than any other man to open the eyes of the North -to the peerless natural advantages of his section, so that -streams of capital began to flow southward to develop those -resources.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was a living example of what a plain citizen may do -for his country without the aid of wealth, office or higher -position than his own talents and earnest patriotism gave -him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Boston joins with Atlanta and the South in mourning -the untimely death of this eloquent orator, statesmanlike -<span class='pageno' id='Page_468'>468</span>thinker, able journalist and model citizen. He will long -be affectionately remembered in this city and throughout -the North.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A LOYAL UNIONIST.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Chicago Times.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Mr. Grady</span> was a loyal Unionist. The son of a Union -veteran, proud of his sire’s part in the battle-fields of the -rebellion, could not be more so. He stood manfully against -the race prejudice which would lash the negro or plunder -or terrorize him, but he recognized fully the difficulties of -the race problem, and would not blink the fact, which -every Northern man who sojourns in the South soon learns, -that safety, progress, peace, and prosperity for that section -forbid that the mere numerical superiority of the blacks -should authorize them to push the white man, with his -superior capability for affairs, from the places where laws -are made and executed. Mr. Grady looked upon the situation -dispassionately and told the truth about it to Northern -audiences.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was an active force in the journalism of the South, -where the journal is still regarded largely as an organ of -opinion and the personality of the editor counts for much. -He entered the newspaper field when the modern idea of -news excellence had obtained a full lodgment at the North -and at one or two places South of the Ohio, and while he -loved to occupy the pulpit of the fourth page he was not -unmindful of the demand for a thorough newspaper.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HIS WORK WAS NOT IN VAIN.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Cleveland, O., Plaindealer.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> -is a loss to journalism, to the South and to the nation. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_469'>469</span>He had done good work for each, and still more could reasonably -be expected of him but for his untimely death at -the comparatively early age of thirty-eight. His fatal -illness was contracted when serving the cause of the whole -country by pleading in the North for a more generous and -just judgment of the Southern people and of their efforts -to solve the race problem. He has done much toward -bringing about a better understanding by his brilliant, -earnest and logical addresses to Northern audiences, in -which he abated nothing of that intense love for that -part of the Union of which he was a native, but at the -same time appealed to them as citizens of the same country, -as brothers, to bury past differences, make allowance -for conditions that were not desired and could not be -avoided, and substitute friendly confidence for prejudiced -suspicion. More of the same good work was expected -of him, but as his mother said when speaking of his dangerous -condition: “May be his work is finished.” Under -his management the <i>Constitution</i> worked unceasingly for -the physical and moral regeneration of the South. It -preached the gospel of the “New South,” redeemed by -work, by enterprise and by devotion to the Union of which -the South is an integral part, and its preaching has not -been in vain. With pen and tongue, equally eloquent with -both, Mr. Grady labored in behalf of the cause he had so -much at heart, and, although dying thus early, he had the -satisfaction of knowing that his work was not in vain; -that it is certain to bring forth good fruit.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE BEST REPRESENTATIVE OF THE NEW SOUTH.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Albany, N.Y., Journal.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>By</span> the death of Henry Woodfin Grady the country -loses one of its most brilliant journalists.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Throughout</span> the country his death will be deplored as -most untimely, for the future was bright before him. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_470'>470</span>had already, although only thirty-eight years old, reached -the front rank in his profession, and he had been talked of -as nominee for the vice-presidency. This eminence he won -not only by his brilliant writing, but also by his integrity -and high purposes. He never held an office, for though he -could make and unmake political destinies, he never took -for himself the distinctions he was able to bestow upon -others. Though he inherited many ante-bellum prejudices -and feelings, yet no editor of the South was more earnest, -more fearless in denouncing the outrages and injustices -from time to time visited upon the negro. So the American -people have come to believe him the best representative -of the “New South,” whose spokesman he was—an -able journalist and an honest man who tried according to -his convictions to make the newspaper what it should be, -a living influence for the best things in our political, industrial -and social life.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A LAMENTABLE LOSS TO THE COUNTRY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Cincinnati Commercial Gazette.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>He</span> was a man of high faculties and purposes, and of -great breadth of sympathy. He had courage of heart equal -to capacity of brain, and placed in the core of the South, -in her most busy city, and the undoubted representative -man of her ambition and progress, it is lamentable that he -should be lost to the country.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It seemed to be in no man’s grasp to do more good than -he had appointed for his task. He has done that which -will be memorable. It is something forever, to plow one -deep furrow in fertile land for the seed that is in the air.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He is dead, as the poets that are loved must die, still -counting his years in the thirties; and there is this compensation, -that it may yet be said of him in the South, as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_471'>471</span>was so beautifully sung by Longfellow of Burns in Scotland, -that he haunts her fields in “immortal youth.”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>And then to die so young, and leave</div> - <div class='line'>Unfinished what he might achieve.</div> - <div class='line'>... He haunts his native land</div> - <div class='line'>As an immortal youth; his hand</div> - <div class='line in8'>Guides every plow,</div> - <div class='line'>He sits beside each ingle-nook;</div> - <div class='line'>His voice is in each rushing brook,</div> - <div class='line in8'>Each rustling bough.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A SAD LOSS.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Buffalo, N.Y., Express.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of no other man than Henry Woodfin Grady -could have plunged Georgia into such deep mourning as -darkens all her borders to-day. Atlanta is the center of -Georgia life, and Grady was the incarnation of Atlanta -vitality. His was a personality difficult to associate with -the idea of death. He was so thoroughly alive, bodily and -mentally, he was so young, the fibers of his being reached -out and were embedded in so many of the living interests -of Georgia and the whole South, that no thought of his -possible sudden end would rise in the minds of any who -knew him. And his friends were legion. Everybody -called him Henry.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In ten years he rose from obscurity to a prominence -that made him the foremost figure of his day in the South, -and had already linked his name with the second office in -the gift of the American people. As an orator he was the -pride of the South, as Chauncey M. Depew is of the North. -As a journalist no Northern man bears the relation to his -section that Grady did to the South. As a public-spirited -citizen it seemed only necessary for Grady to espouse a -project for it to succeed beyond all expectations. Yet but -a few years ago he started three newspapers in succession -<span class='pageno' id='Page_472'>472</span>and they all failed! Failure was the alphabet of his -success.</p> - -<p class='c018'>When Mr. Grady bought a quarter interest in the -Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> he had had but slender training in -journalism. He had written a great deal, which is quite -another thing. Though the <i>Constitution</i> has remained -intensely provincial in its methods ever since, he has given -it an influence in the South unrivalled by any other paper, -with possibly one exception. Under his inspiration the -<i>Constitution</i> viewed everything Georgian, and especially -Atlantian, as better than similar things elsewhere. It -backed up local enterprises with a warmth that shames the -public spirit of most Northern cities. It boasted of local -achievements with a vehemence that was admirable while -it sometimes was amusing. Florid in his own speech and -writing, Mr. Grady gathered about him on the <i>Constitution</i> -men of similar gifts, who often wrote with pens -dipped, as it were, in parti-colored inks, and filled its columns -with ornate verbal illuminations. Yet amid much -that was over-done and under-done there often appeared -work of genuine merit. For the <i>Constitution</i> under Grady -has been the vehicle by which some of the most talented -of the late Southern writers have become familiar to the -public. Grady was proud of them, and of his paper. “I -have the brightest staff and the best newspaper in the -United States,” he once remarked to this writer. And -Mr. Grady firmly believed what he said.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was as a speech-maker that Grady was best known -at the North. Echoes of his eloquence had been heard -here from time to time, but soon after the Charleston earthquake -he made the address on “The New South,” before -the New England Society at New York, that won for him -the applause of the entire country, and must now stand as -the greatest effort of his life. His recent speech in Boston -is too fresh in mind to need attention here. Mr. Grady’s -style was too florid to be wholly pleasing to admirers of -strong and simple English. He dealt liberally in tropes -and figures. He was by turns fervid and pathetic. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_473'>473</span>made his speeches, as he conducted his newspaper, in a -manner quite his own. It pleased the people in Georgia, -and even when he and his partner, Capt. Howell, ran the -<i>Constitution</i> on both sides of the Prohibition question it -was regarded as a brilliant stroke of journalistic genius.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Personally Mr. Grady was one of the most companionable -and lovable of men. His hand and his purse were -always open. His last act in Atlanta, when waiting at the -depot for the train that bore him to the Boston banquet, -was to head a subscription to send the Gate City Guard to -attend Jefferson Davis’s funeral. His swarthy face was -lighted by a bright, moist, black eye that flashed forth the -keen, active spirit within. The impression left upon the -mind after meeting him was of his remarkable alertness.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He will be a sad loss to Georgia, and to the South. -There is none to take his place. His qualities and his usefulness -must be divided henceforth among a number. No -one man possesses them all.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>WORDS OF VIRGIN GOLD.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Oswego, N.Y., Palladium.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> peaceful serenity of the Christmas festival is sadly -married by the intelligence flashed over the wires from the -fair Southern city of Atlanta to-day. “Death loves a -shining mark,” and without warning it came and took away -Henry W. Grady, the renowned orator and the brilliant -editor, the man above all others who could least be spared -by the South at this time. A week ago last Thursday -night he stood up in the banquet hall at Boston and with -charming eloquence delivered to the people of the North a -message from the loyal South—a message that went out -over the land and across the sea in words of pure, virgin -gold, that will live long after he from whose lips they fell -<span class='pageno' id='Page_474'>474</span>has returned to dust. Mr. Grady’s effort on that occasion -attracted the admiration of the whole country. He spoke -as one inspired, and his pathetic words at times moved -strong men to tears and made a lasting impression upon all -who were privileged to hear him. When he resumed his -seat exhausted and perspiring, he became a prey to the -chilling draughts and took a very severe cold. The evening -next following he was banqueted by the Bay State Club -of Boston, and when he arose to respond to a happy sentiment -offered by the toastmaster in honor of the guest of the -evening, he could scarcely speak. He apologized for his -condition and spoke but briefly, and when he had finished -the company arose and gave him a double round of cheers. -Among the fine sentiments of his closing words, the last of -his public utterances, were these: “There are those who -want to fan the embers of war, but just as certain as there -is a God in the heaven, when these uneasy insects of the -hour perish in the heat that gave them life, the great clock -of this Republic will tick out the slow moving and tranquil -hour and the watchmen in the street will cry, ‘All is well! -All is well!’” His last words were these: “We bring to -your hearts that yearn for your confidence and love, the -message of fellowship from our home, and this message -comes from consecrated ground—ground consecrated to us -by those who died in defeat. It is likely that I shall not -again see Bostonians assembled together, therefore I want -to take this occasion to thank you and my excellent friends -of last night, and those friends who accompanied us this -morning to Plymouth, for all that you have done for us -since we have been here, and to say that whenever you come -South, just speak your name and remember that Boston -and Massachusetts is the watchword, and we will meet you -at the gate.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady returned home immediately, and his friends, -who had prepared to greet him with a great reception, met -him at the train only to learn that he was sick unto death. -He was carried home suffering with pneumonia and at 3:40 -<span class='fss'>A.M.</span> to-day breathed his last. The nations will stop amid -<span class='pageno' id='Page_475'>475</span>the Christmas festivities to lay upon the bier of the dead -Southerner a wealth of tenderness and love.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was as an editor that Grady was best known. His -brilliant and forceful contributions made the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> -famous from one end of this broad land to the -other. As an orator he was master of an accurate and -rhythmical diction which swept through sustained flights -to majestic altitudes. We will deal with the statistical -record of his life at another time, and can only add here -that it is a matter for sincere regret that he has been taken -away before he had reached the summit of his fame or the -meridian of his usefulness.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>SAD NEWS.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Boston Advertiser.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> untimely death yesterday of Henry Woodfin Grady -is sad news. He was predisposed to lung diseases, and the -circumstances of his visit to Boston were most unfortunate. -The weather was very mild when he arrived here, but -became suddenly chill and wintry just before his departure. -Half our native population seemed to have caught cold -owing to the sudden and severe change in temperature, and -Mr. Grady contracted pneumonia in its most violent form, -so that he grew steadily worse to the end. His trip to -Boston was eagerly anticipated, both because he had never -been in New England, and also for the reason that the -greatest interest had been created both North and South -over the announcement that he would speak on the race -problem. The impression made by his address—for it rose -far above the ordinary after-dinner speech—is still strong, -and the expectation created in the South is attested by the -fact that a body-guard, as it were, of admiring friends -from among leading representative Southerners made the -trip with Mr. Grady for the express purpose of hearing his -exposition of the race problem.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_476'>476</span>Of Mr. Grady’s address there is nothing new to add. -It was one of the finest specimens of elegant and fervid -oratory which this generation has heard. It met the fondest -anticipations of his friends, and the people of his -native State had planned to pay him extraordinary honors -for the surpassing manner in which he plead their cause. -The address, considered in all respects, was superior to -that which he delivered in New York and which won -national reputation for him. His treatment of the race -problem was in no respect new, and it met with only a -limited approval, but while he did not convince, Mr. Grady -certainly won from the North a larger measure of intelligent -appreciation of the problem laid upon the South. It -was impossible not to perceive his sincerity, and we recognized -in him and in his address the type and embodiment -of the most advanced sentiment in the generation which -has sprung up at the South since the war. Mr. Grady’s -father lost his life in the Confederate army; Mr. Grady -himself spoke in the North to Union veterans and their -sons. It was perhaps impossible, from the natural environments -of the situation, that he should speak to the -entire acceptance of his auditors, or that he should give -utterance to the ultimate policy which will prevail in the -settlement of the race problem. But we of the North can -and do say that Mr. Grady has made it easier for one of -another generation, removed from the war, to see with -clearer vision and to speak to the whole country on the -race problem with greater acceptance than would now be -possible. To have done this is to do much, and it is in -striking contrast with the latter-day efforts of that other -great figure in Southern life who has but lately gone down -to the grave unreconciled.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The North laments the death of Mr. Grady, and sincerely -trusts that his mantle as an apostle of the New -South will fall upon worthy shoulders. Business interests -are bringing the North and South together at a wonderfully -rapid rate. This is not the day nor the generation in -which to witness perfect that substantial agreement for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_477'>477</span>which we all hope. But we are confident that if to the -firmness of the Northern views upon the civil rights of the -black man there be added a fuller measure of sympathy -for those who must work out the problem, and if Mr. -Grady’s spirit of loyalty, national pride and brotherly -kindness becomes deeply rooted in the South, the future -will be promising for the successful solution of that problem -which weighs so heavily upon every lover of his -country.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A LEADER OF LEADERS.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Philadelphia Times.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady, chief editor of the -Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>, is an irreparable loss to the South. -Of all the many and influential newspaper men of that section, -Mr. Grady can only be compared with Mr. Watterson, -of the Louisville <i>Courier-Journal</i>, in point of distinction; -and while Watterson is the better equipped journalist, -Grady was the greater popular leader. He was not -only a brilliant and forceful writer, but a most eloquent -and impressive speaker, and one of the most sagacious in -council.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was only ten years old when the civil war -spread its terrible pall over the land, and he was only a -school-boy when his native South was left defeated, desolated -and despairing by the failure of the Confederacy. -He grew up with the new generation that is so rapidly -succeeding the actors of that great conflict in both sections. -He escaped the luxury and effeminacy of fortune; he had -to grapple with poverty amidst an almost hopeless people; -and he was one of the earliest of the new generation to -rise to the full stature of manly duty. Thoroughly Southern -in sympathy, and keenly sharing the memories which -are sacred to all who wore and supported the gray, he saw -<span class='pageno' id='Page_478'>478</span>the new occasion with its new duties as the latent wealth -of the South, that so long slumbered under the blight of -slavery, gave promise of development; and alike in his own -Empire State of the South, and in the great metropolis of -the Union and in the Bay State citadel of opposite political -views, he ever declared the same sentiments and cemented -the bond of common brotherhood.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And no other young man of the South gave so much -promise of future honors and usefulness as did Mr. Grady. -He has fallen ere he had reached the full noontide of life, -and when his public career was just at its threshold. He -could have been United States Senator at the last election -had he not given his plighted faith to another; and even -with the office left to go by default, it was with reluctance -that the Legislature, fresh from the people, passed him by -in obedience to his own command. That he would have -been leader of leaders in the South, yea, in the whole -Union, is not doubted; and he was the one man of the -present in the South who might have been called to the -Vice-Presidency had his life been spared. He was free -from the blemish of the Confederate Brigadier, that is -ever likely to be an obstacle to a popular election to the -Presidency or Vice-Presidency, and he was so thoroughly -and so grandly typical of the New South, with its new -pulsations, its new progress, its new patriotism, that his -political promotion seemed plainly written in the records -of fate.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But Henry W. Grady has fallen in the journey with his -face yet looking to the noonday sun, and it is only the vindication -of truth to say that he leaves no one who can fully -take his place. Other young men of the South will have -their struggling paths brightened by the refulgence his -efforts and achievements reflect upon them, but to-day his -death leaves a gap in Southern leadership that will not be -speedily filled. And he will be mourned not only by those -who sympathized with him in public effort. He was one -of the most genial, noble and lovable of men in every relation -of life, and from the homes of Georgia, and from the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_479'>479</span>by-ways of the sorrowing as well as from the circles of ambition, -there will be sobbing hearts over the grave of Henry -W. Grady.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A FORCEFUL ADVOCATE.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Springfield, Mass., Republican.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry Woodfin Grady, the brilliant -young Southern editor and orator, which took place at -Atlanta, Ga., was almost tragic in its suddenness; it will -make a profound impression at the South, and will be -deeply deplored here at the North, where he had come to -be known as a florid yet forceful advocate and apologist of -his section. He had lately caught the ear of the country, -and while his speeches provoked critical replies, it may be -said in his honor that he, more than any other Southerner, -had lifted the plane of sectional debate from that of futile -recriminations to more dignified and candid interchanges -of opinion. That is saying much for a man who was a lad -during the rebellion, and who had not passed his thirty-ninth -birthday. He was a man of pronounced views, perhaps -given more to pictures of prosperity than to the -methods of its attainment, and when upon the platform -he carried the crowd by the force of that genius for passionate -appeals which his Irish ancestry and Southern -training had given him in full measure. No Southerner -had put the conflict of races in so reassuring a light; but -he was not old enough or far-seeing enough to realize that -the problem can and will be solved,—and that by Southerners.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady called about him a formidable group of -young Democrats filled with the spirit of the New South. -They believed that Georgia would rise and the South be -reconstructed in the broadest sense by the multiplication -of factories and the advancement of trade. These young -men selected Gov. Colquitt for their standard-bearer in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_480'>480</span>State election of 1880, and Mr. Grady was made chairman -of the campaign committee. Colquitt during his first -term had offended the Democratic regulars, and the young -men carried the war into the back country. The vote at -the primaries was unprecedentedly heavy. Colquitt carried -the State and was the first governor elected under the new -constitution. Grady never held public office, but it was -supposed that he had been selected by the Democratic -leaders as Gov. Gordon’s successor, and many thought -that he was angling for the second place on the Democratic -national ticket in 1892.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The attention of the North was first called to the brilliant -Georgian by his address at New York in June, 1887, -at the annual dinner of the New England Society. His -speech at the Washington Centennial banquet last spring -was rather a disappointment, but he fully recovered his -prestige the other day at Boston, where he shared the -honors of a notable occasion with Grover Cleveland. Mr. -Grady found time from his editorial work to write an occasional -magazine article, but his subject was his one absorbing -study—the South and its future.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HIS GREAT WORK.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Boston Post.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of the brilliant young Southerner whose -eloquence yet rings in our ears followed so closely upon -his visit to Boston that it doubtless arouses a keener sense -of regret and a clearer realization of loss here than in other -communities. Mr. Grady, moreover, in speaking for the -New South, whose aspirations he so ably represented, while -addressing the whole nation, yet brought himself more -closely to New England in his arguments, his contrasts and -his fervid appeals; and, whether it was admiration of his -courage in combating the remnants of traditional prejudices -<span class='pageno' id='Page_481'>481</span>in the heart of the section in which this feeling once was -the strongest, or a sympathy with the sentiments which -he expressed in such captivating language, it cannot be -doubted that the warmest recognition which he has received -outside his own State is that which he won from this community.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In all his efforts to spread that knowledge of the sentiments -and the purposes of the South which would tend to -make the restored union of the States more secure and more -harmonious, Mr. Grady has addressed himself especially to -New England. It was at the meeting of the New England -Society in New York, in 1886, that he made the first notable -speech which evoked such a ready and generous response -from all sections of the country; and the last public words -which he spoke in furtherance of the same purpose were -those delivered upon Plymouth Rock at the end of the -recent visit which he described as a pilgrimage.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is seldom, indeed, that a people or an idea has the -fortune to possess such an advocate as Mr. Grady. He not -only knew where to carry his plea, but he had a rare gift -of eloquence in presenting it. Whether Mr. Grady, as his -field of effort enlarged, would have developed a more varied -talent as an orator, can never be known; but in the illustration -of the one subject on which he made himself heard -before the people he showed himself a master of the art. -On this topic, full of inspiration for him, he spoke with a -brilliancy and power which were unapproachable. Since -Wendell Phillips, there is none possessed of such a strength -of fervid eloquence as that which this young man displayed. -Much of the effect produced by his speeches, of -course, must be attributed to the existence of a sentiment -seldom aroused, but ready to respond to such an appeal; -but when every allowance is made for the circumstances -under which he achieved his triumphs of oratory, there -remains the inimitable charm which gave power and effect -to his words.</p> - -<p class='c018'>If Mr. Grady had been simply a rhetorician, his place in -the public estimation would be far different from that which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_482'>482</span>is now accorded him. Without the talent which he possessed -in so remarkable degree, he could not have produced -the effect which he did; but back of the manner in which -he said what he had to say, which moved men to tears and -to applause, were the boldness, the frankness and the entire -sincerity of the man. His words brought conviction as his -glowing phrases stirred the sentiment of his hearers, and -amid all the embellishments of oratory there was presented -the substantial fabric of fact. His last speech in Boston -was as strong in its argument as it was delightful in its -rhetoric.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The influence which Mr. Grady has exerted upon the -great movement which has consolidated the Union and -brought the South forward in the march of industrial development -cannot now be estimated. He has not lived to -see the realization of what he hoped. But there can be no -doubt that his short life of activity in the great work will -have far-reaching results.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>NEW ENGLAND’S SORROW.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Boston Herald.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady comes at a time and -under conditions which will cause a deep feeling of sorrow -and regret in the minds of the people of New England. -He came to us only a few days ago as a representative of our -Southern fellow-countrymen, grasping the hand of good -will that was extended to him, and professing, in the eloquent -addresses that he made, a desire to do all that he -could to allay any differences of opinion or prejudices that -might exist between the people of the North and those -of the South. One means of doing this, and one which -appealed particularly to the inhabitants of New England, -was the unquestioned admiration that he had for our traditions -and institutions, an admiration which he owned -<span class='pageno' id='Page_483'>483</span>was so far cherished in the South as to lead many of its -people to copy our methods. The New South was a -change from the Old South, for the reason that its people -were discarding their former theories and opinions, and -were to a large degree copying those which we have always -held.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is needless at this time to speak of Mr. Grady’s -attempt to defend the Southern method of settling the race -problem, but, although there were many who believed that -he did not fully make out his case, his statement of it threw -a light upon the question which was probably new to a -large number of those who heard or read his words.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Of Mr. Grady’s eloquence it can be said that it was -spontaneity itself. Rarely has a man been gifted with so -remarkable a command of language and so complete a -knowledge of its felicitous use. There was in his address -an exuberance of fancy which age and a wider experience -of men and methods would have qualified, but no one -can doubt that this gift of his, combined as it was with -high intentions and honesty of purpose, would have made -of him in a few years more, if he had been spared, a man -of national importance in the affairs of our country.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is sad to think that this young and promising life -was thus unexpectedly cut off, and by causes which seem -to have been avoidable ones. It is probable that Mr. Grady -unconsciously overtaxed himself on his Northern trip. He -arrived in this city suffering from a severe cold, which -would probably have yielded to a day or two of complete -rest. But not only were there fixed appointments which -he had come here to meet, but new engagements and duties -were assumed, so that during his short stay here he was -not only in a whirl of mental excitement, but was undergoing -constant physical exposure.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A man of less rugged strength would have yielded -under this trial before it was half over, but Mr. Grady’s -physique carried him through, and those who heard his -last speech, probably the last he ever delivered, at the dinner -of the Bay State Club, will remember that, though he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_484'>484</span>excused himself on account of his physical disabilities, the -extemporaneous address was full of the fire and pathos of -his native eloquence. But, although unaware of the sacrifice -he was making, it is probable that Mr. Grady weakened -himself by these over-exertions to an extent that made him -an easy prey to the subtle advance of disease.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His death causes a vacancy that cannot easily be filled. -The South was in need, and in years to come may be in -still greater need, of an advocate such as he would have -been. She will, no doubt, find substitutes for this journalist-orator, -but we doubt whether any of these will, in so -short a time, win by their words the attention of the entire -American people or so deservedly hold their respect and -admiration.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A NOBLE LIFE ENDED.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Philadelphia Telegraph.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> country will be startled to learn of the death of -Henry W. Grady. No man within the past three years -has come so suddenly before the American people, occupying -so large a share of interested attention not only in the -South but in the North. None has wielded a greater -influence or made for himself a higher place in the public -regard. The career of Mr. Grady reads like a romance. -Like a true Georgian, he was born with the instincts of his -people developed to a marked degree, and his rise to a -position of honor and usefulness was certain, should his -life be spared. But like the average man, even in this -country of free opportunities, he had to fight his way over -obstacles which would have discouraged if not crushed out -the spirit of a less courageous and indomitable man. He -was too young to take any part in the late great internal -strife, but as a bright-minded boy he emerged from that -contest with vivid and bitter memories, an orphan, his -father having fallen beneath the “Stars and Bars.” His -<span class='pageno' id='Page_485'>485</span>young manhood, while not altogether clouded by poverty, -started him upon the battle of life without any special -favoring circumstances, and without the support of influential -friends to do for him in a measure what doubtless -would gladly have been done could his future have been -foreseen. But he started out for himself, and in the rugged -school of experience was severely taught the lessons -of self-reliance and individual energy which were to prepare -him for the responsibilities of intellectual leadership -amongst a people in a sadly disorganized condition, who -were groping in the dark, as it were, seeking the light of -prosperity. He never but for a short time left his own -State, and as his field of observation and work enlarged -and his influence extended, his love for it seemed to grow -more intense. It became with him, indeed, a passion that -was always conspicuous, and upon which he loved to dwell, -with pen or tongue, and some of his tributes to the Empire -Commonwealth of the South, as he loved to call it, will -proudly be recorded by the future historian of the annals -of the time.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was as an active editor of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> -that Mr. Grady found the sphere of labor in which he was -to win high honor, and from which he was to send out an -influence measured only by the boundaries of the South -itself, if it did not extend, in fact, to the borders of the -nation. He wrote and spoke, when appearing in public, -from a patriotic and full heart. His utterances were those -of a man deeply in love with his country, and earnestly -desirous of promoting her highest prosperity and happiness. -Some of his deliverances were prose poems that will -be read with delight by future generations of Southern -youth. They came forth flashing like meteors, doubtless -to the astonishment of their author himself, for he seemed -to reach national prominence at a single bound. There -were times when Mr. Grady seemed to falter and slip aside -in discussing some of the burning questions of the hour, -but this was due to his great sympathy with his own people, -his toleration of their prejudices, and his desire to keep step -<span class='pageno' id='Page_486'>486</span>with them and be one with them throughout his work in -their behalf. But he was an ardent young patriot, a zealous -and true friend of progress, and the New South will -miss him as it would miss no other man of the time. He -set a brilliant example to the younger men as well. He -reached for and grasped with a hearty grip the hand of the -North in the spirit of true fraternity, and it is a pathetic -incident that the climax to his career should have been an -address in the very center of the advanced thought of New -England. His death seems almost tragic, and doubtless -was indirectly, at least, due to the immense pace at which -he had been traveling within the past three years; a victim -of the prevailing American vice of intellectual men, driving -the machine at a furious rate, when suddenly the silver -cord is loosed, the golden bowl is broken, and the people -of the Southland will go mourning for one who ought, they -will sadly think, to have been spared them for many years, -to help them work out their political, industrial, and social -salvation. The name of Henry W. Grady is sure of an -enduring and honored place in the history of the State of -Georgia, and in the annals of the public discussions in the -American press, during a time of great importance, of -questions of vast concern to the whole people.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A TYPICAL SOUTHERNER.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Chicago Tribune.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>In</span> the death of Henry W. Grady the South has lost one -of its most eminent citizens and the newspaper press of the -whole country one of its most brilliant and dashing editors. -He was a typical Southerner, impulsive, sentimental, emotional, -and magnetic in his presence and speech, possessing -those qualities which Henry Watterson once said were -characteristic of Southerners as compared with the reasoning, -reflective, mathematical nature of Northern men. His -<span class='pageno' id='Page_487'>487</span>death will be a sad loss to his paper and to the journalism -of the whole country. He was a high-toned, chivalrous -gentleman, and a brilliant, enthusiastic, and able editor, -who worked his way to the top by the sheer force of his -native ability and gained a wide circle of admirers, not alone -by his indefatigable and versatile pen but also by the magnetism -and eloquence of his oratory. It is a matter for -profound regret that a journalist of such abilities and -promise should have been cut off even before he had -reached his prime.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HIS NAME A HOUSEHOLD POSSESSION.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Independence, Mo., Sentinel.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>A few</span> years ago there shot athwart the sky of Southern -journalism a meteor of unusual brilliancy. From its first -flash to its last expiring spark it was glorious, beautiful, -strong. It gave light where there had been darkness, -strength where there had been weakness, hope where there -had been despair. To the faint-hearted it had given cheer, -to the timid courage, to the weary vigor and energy.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The electric wires yesterday must have trembled with -emotion while flashing to the outside world the startling -intelligence that Henry W. Grady, the editor of the Atlanta -<i>Constitution</i>, was dead. It was only last week this same -world was reading the touching and pathetic tribute his -pen had paid to the dead Southern chief; or less than a -week, listening with pleased and attentive ears to the silver -tones of his oratory at the base of Plymouth Rock, as he -plead for fair play for the people of his own sunny Southland.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry W. Grady was one of the foremost journalists of -the day. He was still numbered among the young men of -the Republic, yet his name and fame had already become -a household possession in every part of the Union. Not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_488'>488</span>only was he a writer of remarkable vigor, but he was also -a finished orator and a skillful diplomat. As a writer he -combined the finish of a Prentiss with the strength and -vigor of a Greeley. Not so profuse, possibly, as Watterson, -he was yet more solid and consistent. By force of -genius he had trodden difficulty and failure under foot and -had climbed to the highest rung of the ladder.</p> - -<p class='c018'>By his own people he was idolized—by those of other -sections highly esteemed. Whenever he wrote all classes -read. When he spoke, all people listened.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was a genuine product of the South, yet he was -thoroughly National in his views. The vision of his intelligence -took in not only Georgia and Alabama, but all the -States; for he believed in the Republic and was glad the -South was a part of it.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His death is not only a loss to Atlanta and Georgia, to -the South and the North, but a calamity to journalism.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>EDITOR, ORATOR, STATESMAN, PATRIOT.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Kansas City Globe.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>In</span> the death of Henry W. Grady the South has lost one -of its foremost and best men. He was pre-eminently the -foremost man of the South, and to the credit of the section -it can be said that he had not attained to such a position -by services in the past, but by duty conceived and well discharged -in the present. He was not a creature of the war, -but was born of the events succeeding the war and which, -in turn, he has helped to shape for the good of the South, -in a way that has represented a sentiment which has -induced immigration and the investment of capital, so -that, short as has been the span of his life of usefulness, -it has been long enough to see the realization of his greatest -ambition and hopes—the South redeemed from the despair -<span class='pageno' id='Page_489'>489</span>of defeat and made a prosperous part of a great nation and -a factor in working out a glorious future for a reunited -people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Intensely Southern in his sentiments, devotedly -attached to his section and as proud of it in poverty and -defeat as in the day of its present prosperity, to which he -much contributed, Henry W. Grady comprehended the situation -as soon as man’s estate allowed him to begin the -work of his life, and he set about making a New South, in -no sense, as he claimed in his famous Boston speech, in -disparagement of the Old South, but because new ideas -had taken root, because of new conditions; and the new -ideas he cultivated to a growth that opened a better sentiment -throughout the South, produced a better appreciation -of Southern sentiment in the North, and helped to -harmonize the difference between the sections that war -sought to divide, but which failing still left “a bloody -chasm” to be spanned or filled up. That it is obliterated -along with the ramparts of fortresses and the earthworks -of the war, is as much due, or more, to Henry W. Grady -than any man who has lived in the South, a survivor of the -war, or brought out of its sequences into prominence.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Early appreciating the natural advantages, the undeveloped -resources of the South, he has advocated as editor -and orator the same fostering care of Southern industry -that has enabled the North to become the manufacturing -competitor with any people of the world. He sought, -during his life, to allay the political prejudice of the South -and the political suspicion of the North, and to bring each -section to a comprehension of the mutual advantages that -would arise from the closest social and business relations. -He fought well, wrote convincingly and spoke eloquently -to this end, and dying, though in the very prime of his -usefulness, he closed his eyes upon work well done, upon -a New South that will endure as a nobler and better monument -to his memory than would the Confederacy, if it -had succeeded, have been for Jefferson Davis.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The South has lost its ablest and best exponent, the representative -<span class='pageno' id='Page_490'>490</span>of the South as it is, and the whole country has -lost a noble character, whose sanctified mission, largely -successful, was to make the country one in sentiment, as it -is in physical fact.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A SOUTHERN BEREAVEMENT.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Cincinnati Times-Star.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> loss which the <i>Daily Constitution</i> sustains in the -death of Mr. Grady is not a loss to a newspaper company -only; it is a loss to Atlanta, to Georgia, to the whole -South. Mr. Grady belonged to a new era of things south -of the Ohio River. He was never found looking over his -shoulder in order to keep in sympathy with the people -among whom he had always lived. He was more than -abreast of the times in the South, he kept a little in -advance, and his spirit was rapidly becoming contagious. -He wasted no time sighing over the past, he was getting -all there is of life in the present and preparing for greater -things for himself and the South in the future. His life -expectancy was great, for though already of national reputation -he had not yet reached his prime.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There was much of the antithetical in the lives of the -two representative Southern men who have but just passed -away. The one lived in the past, the other in the future. -The one saw but little hope for Southern people because -the “cause” was “lost,” the other believed in a mightier -empire still because the Union was preserved. The one, -full of years, had finished his course, which had been full -of mistakes. The other had not only kept the faith, but -had barely entered upon a course that was full of promise. -The one was the ashes of the past, the other, like the -orange-tree of his own sunny clime, had the ripe fruit of -the present and the bud of the future. The death of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_491'>491</span>one was long since discounted, the death of the other comes -like a sudden calamity in a happy Christmas home. The -North joins the South to-day in mourning for Grady.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A MAN WHO WILL BE MISSED.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Mr. Henry W. Grady, of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>, -is a loss to South and North alike. The section -which poured out a few days ago its tributes of regret for -the leader of the Southern Confederacy may well dye its -mourning a deeper hue in memory of this greater and better -man, whose useful life is cut short before he had -reached his prime. Mr. Grady has held a peculiar and -trying position; and in it he has done more, perhaps, than -any other one man to make the two sections separated by -the War of the Rebellion understand each other, and to -bring them from a mere observance of what we might call -a political <i>modus vivendi</i> to a cordial and real union. It -was not as a journalist, although in his profession he was -both strong and brilliant, it was rather as the earnest and -eloquent representative of the New South, and as the -spokesman of her people that he had acquired national -prominence. He was one of the few who both cared and -dared to tell to the people of either section some truths -about themselves and about the other that were wholesome -if they were not altogether palatable. He was wholly and -desperately in earnest. He had much of the devotion to -his own section and his own State that characterized the -Southerner before the war. But he had what they had -not: a conception of national unity; of the power and -glory and honor of the nation as a whole, that made him -respected everywhere. Whether he appeared in Boston -or in Atlanta, he was sure of an interested and sympathetic -audience; and his fervid orations, if they sometimes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_492'>492</span>avoided unpleasant issues and decked with flowers the -scarred face of the ugly fact, did much, nevertheless, to -turn the eyes of the people away from the past and toward -the future.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We have been far from agreeing with Mr. Grady’s -opinions, either socially or politically. The patriotic people -of the North can have no sympathy with the attempt -to cover with honor the memory of treason, which found -in him an ardent apologist. We believe that we have -gone to the limit of magnanimity when we agree to forego -question and memory, and simply treat the men who led -and the men who followed in the effort to destroy the -nation as if that effort had never been made. And we do -not hold that man as guilty of sectionalism and treason to -a reunited country who talks hotly of “rebels” and sneers -at “brigadiers,” as that man who speaks of these leaders -of a lost cause as “patriots,” obedient to the call of duty. -To that error Mr. Grady, in common with other leaders of -his time, inclined the people of his section. Politically he -was, of course, through good or through evil report, an -uncompromising Democrat. Nor can we think his treatment -of the race issue a happy one. The North has come, -at last, to do justice to the South in this respect, and to -acknowledge that the problem presented to her for solution -in the existence there of two races, politically equal -before the law but forever distinct in social and sentimental -relations, is the gravest and most difficult in our history. -But the mere plea to let it alone, which is the substance -of Mr. Grady’s repeated appeal, is not the answer -that must come. It is not worthy of the people, either -North or South. It is not satisfactory, it is not final, and -the present demands more of her sons. But, in presenting -these points of difference, it is not intended to undervalue -the work which Mr. Grady did or underestimate the value -of the service that lay before him. With tongue and pen -he taught his people the beauty and the value of that -national unity into which we have been reborn. He -sought to lead them out of the bitterness of political strife, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_493'>493</span>to set their faces toward the material development that is -always a serviceable factor in the solution of political -problems, and to make of the new South something worthy -of the name. The work that he did was worthy, and there -is none who can take and fill his place. The death that -plunged the South in mourning a short time ago was -merely the passing of an unhealthful reminiscence. The -death of Grady is a sorrow and a loss in which her people -may feel that the regret and the sympathy of the North -are joined with theirs.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>AT THE BEGINNING OF A GREAT CAREER.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Pittsburg Post.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady will be received with -profound regret throughout the Northern States, while in -the South there will be deeper and more heartfelt sorrow -than the death of Jefferson Davis called forth. The book -of Mr. Davis’s life was closed before his death, but it -seemed as if we were but at the beginning of Mr. Grady’s -career, with a future that held out brilliant promise. He -had all the characteristics of warm-blooded Southern oratory, -and his magnetic periods, that touched heart and -brain alike, were devoted to the single purpose of rehabilitating -the South by an appeal to the generosity and justice -of the North. No speech of recent years had a greater -effect than his splendid oration at the New England -Society dinner in New York last year on the “New -South.” It was happily and appropriately supplemented -by his recent address to the merchants of Boston. He was -a martyr to the cause he advocated and personated, for it -was in the chill atmosphere of New England he contracted -the disease of which he died. Rarely has it been given to -any man to gain such reputation and appreciation as fell -to Mr. Grady as the outcome of his two speeches in New -York and Boston. He was only thirty-eight years old; at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_494'>494</span>the very beginning of what promised to be a great career, -of vast benefit to his section and country. He was essentially -of the New South; slavery and old politics were to -him a reminiscence and tradition. At home he was frank -and courageous in reminding the South of its duties and -lapses. At the North he was the intrepid and eloquent -defender and champion of the South. Both fields called -for courage and good faith.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE PEACE-MAKERS.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “New York Churchman.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> premature death of Mr. Grady has taken from the -career of journalism one of its most brilliant followers. In -him has passed away also an orator of exceptional powers, -ready, versatile, and eloquent, a man of many gifts, a -student with the largest resources of literary culture, and -at the same time enabled by his practical experience and -training to use these resources to the best advantage.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But the point we wish especially to note is that Mr. -Grady, while deeply attached to the South, and inheriting -memories of the great civil contest which made him early -an orphan, was one of those who both recognized the finality -of the issue and had the courage to say so.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He will be remembered at the North as one who spoke -eloquent words of conciliation and friendship, who did his -share in healing the wounds of war, and in smoothing the -way toward complete national accord. “Blessed are the -peace-makers” is the inscription one would place above -his too-early opened grave.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We have not the space at our command to do extended -justice to Mr. Grady’s great powers, or to picture at length -his bright history. That has been done in other places and -by other hands. But we cannot pass by the work he did -<span class='pageno' id='Page_495'>495</span>for reconciliation without some expression of acknowledgment. -Such words as his, offered in behalf of peace, will -survive not merely in their immediate effect, but in the -example they set.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>ONE OF THE BRIGHTEST.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Seattle Press.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>One</span> of the brightest men in America passed away on -Monday. Henry W. Grady, the editor of the Atlanta -<i>Constitution</i>, Georgia’s leading paper, and which has come -to be regarded by many as the ablest paper in the South, -had within a very brief period impressed his personality -upon the current history of the nation. Five years ago he -was little more than locally known. Being a guest at a -dinner of the New England Society at Boston, he made a -speech which was the happiest inspiration and effort of his -life. It was the right word spoken at the right time. It -lifted him at once to the dignity of a national figure. It -was the greeting of the New South to the new order of things. -It touched the great heart of the North by its warm tribute -to the patriotism and faithfulness of the martyred President, -Abraham Lincoln, being the first Southern utterance -which did full justice to the memory of that great man. It -was not a sycophantic nor an apologetic speech, but the -voice of one who accepts accomplished results in their fullness, -recognizes all the merits of his opponent, and bravely -faces the future without heart-burnings or vain regrets. -Mr. Grady’s speech was published in almost every paper in -the land, in whole or in part, and, to borrow an old phrase, -“he woke up one morning and found himself famous.” -Since then all that he has written, said or done has been in -the same line of patriotic duty. He has been no apologist -for anything done by the South during the war. He never -cringed. He was willing that he and his should bear all -the responsibility of their course. But he loved the whole -<span class='pageno' id='Page_496'>496</span>reunited country, and all that he spoke or wrote was -intended to advance good feeling between the sections and -the common benefit of all.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was a partisan, but in the higher sense. He -never descended to the lower levels of controversy. His -weapon was argument, not abuse. And he was capable of -rising above his party’s platform. He could not be shackled -by committees or conventions. He nervily and consistently -proclaimed his adhesion to the doctrine of protection to -American industry, although it placed him out of line with -his party associates.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE SOUTH’S NOBLE SON.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Rockland, Me., Opinion.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> whole country is deeply grieved and shocked by -the announcement of the death of Mr. Henry W. Grady of -Atlanta, Georgia, which occurred last Monday morning. -The land was yet ringing with the matchless eloquence of -his magnificent speech at the merchants’ dinner in Boston, -when the news of his illness came, closely followed by that -of his death. The press of the country was yet teeming -with the applause of its best representatives, when the -voice that evoked it is stilled in death, and one of the most -brilliant careers of this generation is suddenly and prematurely -closed. Mr. Grady caught a severe cold during his -visit to Boston, and grew ill rapidly during his return -journey. On his arrival home, he was found to be seriously -ill of pneumonia, and the dread disease took a rapid course -to a fatal termination. Mr. Grady was one of the most -popular men in the South. He was an eloquent orator and -brilliant writer. He was born in 1851 in Georgia, graduated -at the State University and also took a course at the -University of Virginia. On coming out of college, Mr. -Grady embarked in journalism and devoted a comfortable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_497'>497</span>fortune to gaining the experience of a successful newspaper -man. Under his management the <i>Constitution</i> of -Atlanta, Ga., has gained a very large circulation. Mr. -Grady has persistently refused to accept office. He won -National fame as an orator by his speech at the Pilgrims’ -dinner in Brooklyn, two years ago, and has been in great -demand at banquets and similar occasions ever since. His -eloquence was of the warm, moving sort that appeals to -the emotions, his logic was sound and careful and all his -utterances were marked by sincerity and candor. He has -also no doubt done more than any one man to remove the -prejudices and misunderstandings that have embittered -the people of the North and South against each other -politically, and to raise the great race problems of the day -from the ruck of sectionalism and partisanship upon the -high plane of national statesmanship. The South has lost -a brave, noble and brilliant son, who served her as effectively -as devotedly; but his work was needed as much and -quite as useful at the North, and his death is indeed a -national misfortune.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>BRILLIANT AND GIFTED.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>Dr. H. M. Field in “New York Evangelist.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>It</span> is with a grief that we cannot express, that we write -the above name, and add that he who bore it is no longer -among the living. The most brilliant and gifted man in -all the South—the one who, though still young, had -acquired immense popularity and influence, which made -him useful alike to the South and to the whole country—has -gone to his grave. He has died in his prime, at the -early age of thirty-eight, in the maturity of his powers, -with the rich promise of life all before him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Our acquaintance with Mr. Grady began nine years -ago, when we saw him for the first time in the office of a -brother of ours, who was able to give him the help which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_498'>498</span>he needed to purchase a quarter of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>. -This at once made his position, as it gave him a -point of vantage from which to exercise his wonderful -gifts. From that moment his career was open before him; -his genius would do the rest. This kindness he never forgot, -and it led to his personal relations with us, which -afterwards became those of intimacy and friendship.</p> - -<p class='c018'>When we first saw him, his face was almost boyish, -round and ruddy with health, his eyes sparkling with -intelligence, as well as with the wit and humor which he -perhaps inherited from some ancestor of Irish blood. His -face, like his character, matured with years; yet it always -had a youthful appearance, which was the outward token -of the immense vitality within him. We have seldom -known a man who was so intensely alive—alive to the very -tips of his fingers. As a writer, he was one of the very -best for the variety of work required in the office of a -great journal. His style was animated and picturesque, -and he had an infinite versatility; turning his pen now to -this subject and now to that; throwing off here a sharp -paragraph, and there a vigorous editorial; but never in -either writing a dull line. The same freshness and alertness -of mind he showed in conversation, where he was as -brilliant as with his pen. He would tell a story with all -the animation and mimicry of an actor, alternating with -touches of humor and pathos that were quite inimitable. -It was the chief pleasure of our visit to Atlanta to renew -this delightful acquaintance—a pleasure which we had -twice last winter in going to, and returning from, Florida. -Never shall we forget the last time that we sat before his -fire, with his charming family and several clergymen of -Atlanta, and listened to the endless variety of his marvelous -talk.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Nor was his power confined to this limited circle. He -was not only a brilliant conversationalist and writer, but a -genuine orator. No man could take an audience from the -first sentence, and hold it to the last, more perfectly than -he. His speech before the New England Society in this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_499'>499</span>city three years ago gave him at once a national reputation. -It came to us when abroad, and even so far away, -on the shores of the Mediterranean, at Palermo, in Sicily, -we were thrilled by its fervid eloquence. A second -speech, not less powerful, was delivered but two weeks -since in Boston; and it was in coming on to this, and in a -visit to Plymouth Rock, where he was called upon to -make a speech in the open air, that he took the cold which -developed into pneumonia, and caused his death.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But Mr. Grady’s chief claim to grateful remembrance by -the whole country is that he was a pacificator between the -North and the South. Born in the South, he loved it intensely. -His own family had suffered in the war an irreparable -loss. He once said to us as we came from his house, -where we had been to call upon his mother, whose gentle -face was saddened by a great sorrow that had cast a shadow -over her life, “You know my father was killed at Petersburg.” -But in spite of these sad memories, he cherished -no hatred, nor bitterness, but felt that the prosperity of -millions depended on a complete reconciliation of the two -sections, so that North and South should once more be -one country. This aim he kept constantly in view, both in -his speeches and in his writings, wherein there were some -things in which we did not agree, as our readers may see in -the letter published this very week on our first page. But -we always recognized his sincerity and manliness, and his -ardent love for the land of his birth, for all which we admired -him and loved him—and love him still—and on this -Christmas day approach with the great crowd of mourners, -and cast this flower upon his new-made grave.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE DEATH OF HENRY W. GRADY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>John Boyle O’Reilly, in the “Boston Pilot.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'>“<span class='sc'>The</span> South is in tears!” said the sorrowful dispatch -from Atlanta on Monday last; and the grief and the sympathy -<span class='pageno' id='Page_500'>500</span>of the North went freely southward in response. -Next to his own city, indeed, this death strikes Boston most -deeply, for here with us, only a few days ago, he poured forth -the noblest stream of eloquence that ever flowed from his -gifted tongue. It matters not now that many New Englanders, -the <i>Pilot</i> included, dissented from his Southern -view of the colored question. We disagreed with the word, -but we honored the silver tongue and the heart of gold beneath -it. “He was the most eloquent man,” said the Hon. -P. A. Collins, one who knows what eloquence consists of, -“that I ever heard speak in Boston.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Since the olden times there has been no more striking -illustration of the power of oratory to appeal to the nation -and to make a man famous among his people than is found -in the career of Mr. Grady. Within ten years he leaped -from the position of a modest Georgian editor to that of -the best-known and the greatest orator on this continent. -So potent is the true gift of eloquence when the substructure -is recognized as solid in character and profoundly -earnest in purpose.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To Irish-Americans, as to the State that has lost him, -the death of Mr. Grady is a special affliction. He represented -in a fine type the patriotism and the manly quality -of a citizen that every Irish-American ought to keep in -spiritual sight. He was a man to be trusted and loved. -He was a proud Georgian and a patriotic American, though -his father had died for “the Lost Cause.” He was, while -in Boston, introduced to the great audience by Colonel -Charles H. Taylor as “the matchless orator of Georgia.” -Playfully, and yet half seriously, he accounted for himself -thus: “My father was an Irishman—and my mother -was a woman. I come naturally by my eloquence.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>North or South, it matters not the section—all men -must honor such a character. His brief life reached a high -achievement. He was a type of American to be hailed with -delight—courageous, ready of hand and voice, proudly sentimental -yet widely reserved, devoted to his State and loyal -to the Republic, public-spirited as a statesman, and industrious -<span class='pageno' id='Page_501'>501</span>and frugal as a townsman, and the head of a happy -family. His devotion to his parents and to his wife and -children was the last lesson of his life. In his Boston -speech he drew tears from thousands by the unnamed picture -of his father’s death for the bleeding South; from -Boston he went South, insisting on being taken to his home -when they told him in New York that he was dangerously -ill. He died surrounded by his own—mother, wife, and -children. Almost his last words to his mother were: -“Father died fighting for the South, and I am happy to -die talking for her.”</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_503'>503</span><span class='c029'>TRIBUTES</span></div> - <div class='c000'>OF THE</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='c004'>SOUTHERN PRESS.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_505'>505</span> - <h2 class='c012'>A NOBLE DEATH.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Jacksonville, Fla., Times-Union.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>ALAS, that the hero of the New South should follow, -and in so short a time, the typical hero and representative -of the Old! With hearts still bowed beneath -the shadow of the flags at half-mast all over the South -for Jefferson Davis, comes the sad and sudden message -announcing the death of Henry W. Grady.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Poor Grady! Dead in the very summer time and blossom -and golden fruitage of a brilliant life! Fallen, while -yet so young and in the arms of his first overwhelming victory. -Fallen on the topmost crest of a grand achievement—on -the shining heights he had just so bravely won! -Hapless fate, that he could not survive to realize the full -fruition of his sublime endeavor! He went North only a -few days ago on a mission of love and reconciliation, his -great heart bearing the sorrows of the South, his big brain -pulsing with patriotic purpose. Of a nervous, sensitive -nature, his physical system, in sympathy with his intellectual -triumph, both strained to the utmost tension, rendered -him susceptible to the sudden change of climate, and -he contracted a severe cold which soon developed into -pneumonia, attended by a burning fever. Returning home -he was met at the depot by what had been arranged for a -grand ovation and a banquet at the Chamber of Commerce, -by the people of Atlanta, but instead of being carried on the -strong shoulders of the thousands who loved and honored -him, he was received into the gentle arms of his family and -physicians and borne tenderly home, to linger yet for a -little while with the fond circle whose love, deep, strong, -and tender as it was, appealed in vain against the hard -decree of the great conqueror.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_506'>506</span>As Mr. Grady so eloquently expressed in his last hours: -“Tell mother I died for the South, the land I love so well!” -And this was as true as it could be of any patriot who falls -on the field of battle.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>’Twas his own genius gave the final blow,</div> - <div class='line'>And helped to plant the wound that laid him low.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c046' /> -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Yes, she too much indulged the fond pursuit;</div> - <div class='line'>She sowed the seed, but death has reaped the fruit!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c024'>But has death, indeed, reaped the fruit? May not the -very sacrifice, in itself, consecrate his last eloquent and -inspired words till they sink deeper into the hearts of the -North and South alike, thus linked with a more sacred -memory and a sublimer sorrow? If so, we shall find a -larger recompense even in the bitter bereavement.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As far as his personal history is concerned, Henry -Grady could not have died a nobler death. The Greek -philosopher said: “Esteem no man happy while he lives.” -He who falls victorious, the citadel won, in a blaze of glory, -is safe; safe from all the vicissitudes of fortune; safe from -any act that might otherwise tarnish an illustrious name. -It descends a rich heritage to after time. During the presidential -campaign of 1844 the wonderful orator, Sargent S. -Prentiss, delivered at Nashville, to an immense audience, -the greatest campaign speech, perhaps, that was ever heard -in the United States. After speaking for several hours, -and just as he was closing an eloquent burst of oratory, -he fell fainting in the arms of several of the bystanders. -At once there was a rush to resuscitate him, but Governor -Jones, thoroughly inspired by the speech and occasion, -sprang from his seat, in a stentorian voice shouting: “Die! -Prentiss; <i>die</i>! You’ll never have a better time!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The <i>Times-Union</i> has heretofore commented on Mr. -Grady’s magnificent oration at Boston. It not only captured -New England and the South, but the entire country. -Nothing like it since the war has been uttered. In force, -power, eloquence, it has been but rarely excelled in any -time. Major Audley Maxwell, a leading Boston lawyer, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_507'>507</span>describes it in a letter to a friend in this city as “a cannon-ball -in full flight, fringed with flowers.” The occasion, the -audience, the surroundings, were all inspiring. He was -pleading for the South—for the people he loved—and to -say that he reached the topmost height of the great argument, -is comment and compliment enough. The closing -paragraphs are republished this morning, and no man ever -uttered a sublimer peroration. He spoke as one might have -spoken standing consciously within the circling wings of -death, when the mind is expanded by the rapid crowding -of great events and the lips are touched with prophetic fire.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The death of Henry Grady was a public calamity. He -had the ear of the North as no other Southern man had, or -has. He was old enough to have served in the Confederate -armies, yet young enough, at the surrender, while cherishing -the traditions of the past, to still lay firm hold on the -future in earnest sympathy for a restored and reconciled -Union. In this work he was the South’s most conspicuous -leader.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But his life-work is finished. Let the people of the South -re-form their broken ranks and move forward to the completion -of the work which his genius made more easy of -accomplishment and which his death has sanctified. In -the words he himself would have spoken, the words employed -by another brilliant leader on undertaking a great -campaign, each of the soldiers enlisted for the South’s continued -progress will cry: “Spurn me if I flee; support -me if I fall, but let us move on! In God’s name, let us -move on!”</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THERE WAS NONE GREATER.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Birmingham, Mo., Chronicle.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The Chronicle</span> confesses to being a hero-worshiper. -There is no trait in the human heart more noble than that -which applauds and commemorates the feats of brains or -<span class='pageno' id='Page_508'>508</span>arms done by our fellow-man. We confess the almost holy -veneration we feel for the heroes of song and story from -the beginning of tradition. Nimrod to Joseph and Moses -to the Maccabees, from Alexander to Cæsar, taking in the -heroes of all nations from Cheops to Napoleon and Wellington, -Putnam, Sam Houston and Lee and Grant and -Lincoln, we do honor to them all.</p> - -<p class='c018'>So too do we worship the sages and orators. Whatever -man the people worship is worthy of a place in our Pantheon. -The people are the best judges of a man, and -when the common people pay tribute to the worth of any -man well known to them, we are ready to lift our hats and -acknowledge his title to greatness. Any man who has the -enthusiastic admiration of his own people is worthy of any -honor.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The South has many brilliant writers, but none of them -have ever made the columns of a newspaper glisten and -glow and hold in magnetic enchantment the mind of the -reader as Henry Grady did. In his life-work he was great, -and there is none greater. His writings are worthy of a -place beside those of Greeley and Watterson, and Grady -was still a young man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the days gone by the South has sent many orators -North to present Southern thought to Northern hearers. -Henry Clay, Jefferson Davis, Robert Toombs and William -L. Yancey all went before Grady was invited to speak up -there. There were never four greater orators in the world’s -history, and the story of their speeches has come down to -us like music. Yet in this latter day when oratory does -not appeal to people as it used to, when the busy world -does not stop to read speeches, Grady went North to -speak. He was known to the North and had done nothing -to challenge the attention of the nation, yet his first -speech at the North did catch public attention most pleasantly. -His second speech, delivered but a few days ago, -was the greatest effort of his life, and all the nations -listened to it and all the newspapers commented upon his -utterances. His speech was the equal of any oration -<span class='pageno' id='Page_509'>509</span>ever delivered in America, and had as much effect on public -thought. No effort of Toombs or Yancey, even in the -days of public excitement, surpassed this last speech of -Grady.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He deserves a place among the great men of America, -and the South must hold his memory in reverence. A -broken shaft must be his monument, for as sure as life had -been spared him new honors were in store for this young -man. He had made his place in the world, and he was -equal to any call made upon him, and the people were -learning to look to him as a leader. Few such men are -born, and too much honor cannot be done them.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A GREAT LEADER HAS FALLEN.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Raleigh, N.C., State-Chronicle.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Good mother, weep, Cornelia of the South,</div> - <div class='line in2'>For thou indeed has lost a jewel son;</div> - <div class='line'>The Gracchi great were not so much beloved,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Nor with more worthy deeds their honors won.</div> - <div class='line'>Thy stalwart son deserves a Roman’s fame,</div> - <div class='line in2'>For Cato was not more supremely just;</div> - <div class='line'>Augustus was not greater in the State,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Nor Brutus truer to the public trust.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c024'><span class='sc'>In</span> the death of Mr. Henry W. Grady the South loses its -brightest and most useful man. He was the only Southern -man who really had the ear of the people of the whole -country, and he had just reached the position where he -could be useful in the largest sphere. It is inexplicable -why so young and robust a man—(he was not over thirty-nine -years of age)—a man so brilliant and so able, should -be taken just as he was entering upon the plane of wider -influence and greater usefulness. To the South it is the -greatest loss that it has sustained by death in a quarter of -a century. To the whole people of the country, which he -loved with his great-hearted devotion, it is nothing short -of a National calamity.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_510'>510</span>Mr. Grady had the ear and heart of the South because -he loved its history and its very soil, and because he was -the leading exponent of the idea that is working to build -up a prosperous manufacturing New South. He had the -ear of the North because, while he had no apologies to -make for Southern actions and was proud of Southern -achievements, he had turned his eyes to the morning and -lived in the busy world of to-day. He recognized changed -conditions and did not bemoan fate. He stood up in his -manliness and his faith and went to work to bring prosperity -where poverty cast its blight. He inspired others -in the South with faith in the future of his section, and -invited Northern men of money, brains, and brawn to come -South and make a fortune; and when they accepted his -invitation, as not a few did, he gave them a brotherly welcome -and made them feel that they were at home. In this -he showed practical patriotism. Under no temptation—even -when speaking in Boston—did he ever so far forget -his manhood as to</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Crook the pregnant hinges of the knee,</div> - <div class='line'>Where thrift may follow fawning.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c024'>The people of the North also heard him because of his -candor. He never deceived them about the race problem -or the difficulties in the way of the South’s future. He -admitted their gravity, and sought a peaceful solution in a -just, fair, and honest way. His speech in Boston was a -lamentation and an earnest appeal. He cried aloud for -sympathetic help, and his cry, sealed with his life, we must -believe, will not be heard in vain. God grant that his -prayer for Peace and Union may be answered!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady’s most attractive quality was his warm great -heartedness. He was generous to a fault. No tale of suffering -or poverty was unheeded by him. He had a buoyant -spirit and a light heart and deep affections. He was -reverent in speech and with pen. He believed in God, had -learned the truth of the gospel at his mother’s knee, “The -truest altar I have yet found,” he said in his last speech. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_511'>511</span>He was a member of the Methodist church. He had profound -convictions, and his eloquent speeches in favor of -Prohibition in Atlanta will not be forgotten. No man -ever spoke more earnest words for what he conceived to be -the safety of the homes of Atlanta than he. They will long -be treasured up with fondness by those who mourn that -he was cut down in the zenith of what promised the most -brilliant career that lay out before any man in America.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry W. Grady was a grandson of North Carolina. -His father was a native of Macon county, but early in life -emigrated to Rome, Georgia, to make his fortune, and he -made it. He was one of those men who succeed in every -undertaking. Everything he touched seemed to turn to -gold. He prospered and made a large estate. When the -war came on he had a presentiment that he would be killed. -But notwithstanding that idea took possession of him, he -raised and equipped <i>at his own expense</i> a regiment of -cavalry, and hastened to the front as its captain. His -company was attached as company G to the 25th N.C. -Regiment, commanded by Col. Thos. L. Clingman. Eventually -Capt. Grady was promoted to be major of the regiment. -In the first battle he fell mortally wounded, showing -how true was his presentiment of death. He was surrounded -by his men, some of them brave, sturdy North -Carolinians. He left a legacy of honor to his son, who -always called North Carolina his grandmother and had a -deep affection for its sons.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady graduated with high honors at the University -of Georgia in Athens. Then he spent two years at the -University of Virginia, where he devoted himself rather to -the study of literature and to the work of the societies -than to the regular college course. He won high honors -there as an orator and as a debater. He was as well -equipped and as ready and as effective as a debater as he -became later on as an orator and editor. He was regarded -there as a universal genius and the most charming of men. -Leaving college he established a paper at Rome. Later in -connection with Mr. Alston (North Carolina stock) he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_512'>512</span>established the Atlanta <i>Herald</i>. It was a brilliant paper -but was not a financial success. Our readers will remember -that Mr. Alston was shot in the Capitol by State -Treasurer Cox. Upon the failure of the <i>Herald</i>, Mr. Grady -went to New York. He was without money and went there -looking for something to do. He went into the office of -the New York <i>Herald</i> and asked for a position.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“What can you do?” asked the managing editor, -when Mr. Grady asked for a position. “Anything,” was -the reply of the young Georgian, conscious of his powers -and conscious of ability to do any kind of work that was to -be done in a great newspaper office. The editor asked him -where he was from, and learning that he was from Georgia, -said: “Do you know anything about Georgia politics?” -Now if there was any subject which he knew all about it -was Georgia politics, and he said so. “Then sit down,” -said the managing editor, “and write me an article on -Georgia politics.” He sat down and dashed off an article -of the brightest matter showing thorough insight into the -situation in Georgia and thorough knowledge of the leaders -in that State. He was always a facile writer, and all his -articles were printed without erasing or re-writing. The -article was put into the pigeon-hole, and Mr. Grady took -his departure. He left the office, so he said, very despondent, -thinking the article might be published after several -weeks, but fearing that it would never see the light. What -was his surprise and joy to see it in the <i>Herald</i> the next -morning. He went down to the office and was engaged as -correspondent for Georgia and the South. In this capacity -he wrote letters upon Southern topics of such brilliancy as -have never been surpassed, if equaled, in the history of -American journalism. They gained for him a wide reputation, -and made him a great favorite in Georgia. The public -men of that State recognized his ability, and saw how -much he might do to develop the resources and advance -the prosperity and fame of Georgia if at the head of a great -State paper. The late Alexander H. Stephens interested -himself in Mr. Grady and assisted to get him on the staff -<span class='pageno' id='Page_513'>513</span>of the <i>Constitution</i>. From the day he went to Atlanta on -the staff of the <i>Constitution</i> until his death his best energies -and his great abilities were directed toward making it -a great paper, and a powerful factor in developing the -resources of Georgia. It became the most successful of -Southern newspapers, and is to-day a competitor with the -great papers of the North. To have achieved this unprecedented -success in journalism were honor enough to win -in a life-time. He was confessedly the Gamaliel of Southern -journalism, and the best of it all was that he was, as -was said of Horace Greeley after his death, “a journalist -because he had something to say which he believed mankind -would be the better for knowing; not because he -wanted something for himself which journalism might -secure for him.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was a Saul, and stood head and shoulders above all -his fellows as an orator as well as an editor. We cannot -dwell upon his reputation as an orator, or recount the -scenes of his successes. We had heard him only in -impromptu efforts and in short introductory speeches, -where he easily surpassed any man whom we ever heard. -He had a fine physique, a big, round, open, manly face, -was thick-set, was pleasing in style, and had a winning -and captivating voice. He could rival Senator Vance in -telling an anecdote. He could equal Senator Ransom in a -polished, graceful oration. He could put Governor Fowle -to his best in his classical illustrations. He could equal -Waddell in his eloquent flights. In a word he had more -talent as a public speaker than any man we ever knew; -and added to that he had <i>heart</i>, <i>soul</i>, <i>fire</i>—the essentials -of true oratory. We recall four speeches which gave him -greatest reputation. One was in Texas at a college commencement, -we think; another at the New York banquet -on “The New South”; the third at the University of -Virginia; and the last—(alas! his last words)—at the -Boston banquet just two weeks ago. These speeches, as -well as others he has made, deserve to live. The last -one—published in last week’s <i>Chronicle</i>—is emphasized by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_514'>514</span>his untimely death. In it he had so ably and eloquently -defended the South and so convincingly plead for a united -country based upon mutual confidence and sympathy that, -in view of his death, his words seem to have been touched -by a patriotism and a devoutness akin to inspiration. His -broad catholicity and his great patriotism bridged all sectional -lines, and he stood before the country the most eloquent -advocate of “a Union of Hearts” as well as a -“Union of Hands.” As the coming greatest leader of the -South, he sounded the key-note of sublimest patriotism. -Less profound than Daniel Webster, his burning words for -the perpetuity of the Union, with mutual trust and no -sectional antagonism, were not less thrilling nor impressive. -The Southern people ought to read and re-read this -great speech, which, doubtless, cost him his life, and make -it the lamp to their feet. If we heed his words and bury -sectionalism, it will be written of him that “though dead, -he yet speaketh.”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Star of the South!</div> - <div class='line in2'>To thee all eyes and hearts were turned,</div> - <div class='line'>As round thy path, from plain to sea,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The glory of thy greatness burned.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Millions were drawn to thee and bound</div> - <div class='line in2'>By mind’s high mastery, millions hailed</div> - <div class='line'>In thee a guide-star—and ne’er found</div> - <div class='line in2'>A ray in thee, that waned or failed.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>No night’s embrace for thee! nor pall,</div> - <div class='line in2'>But such as mortal hand hath wrought,</div> - <div class='line'>Thou livest still in mind—in all</div> - <div class='line in2'>That breathes, or speaks, or lives in thought.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HENRY W. GRADY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “New Orleans Times-Democrat.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span>, editor of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>, -died yesterday, after a short illness, from typhoid pneumonia, -at the early age of thirty-six. Perhaps no man in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_515'>515</span>the South has been more often mentioned in the last few -years or attracted more attention than he. His famous -speech before the New England Society had the effect of -bringing him before the country as the representative of -that New South which is building up into prosperity and -greatness.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was a native of Georgia. His father was -Colonel of a Confederate regiment during the late war, and -to that father he paid the highest tribute a son could pay -in several of his speeches. He had a hard struggle at first, -like nearly every Southern boy, but he fought his way up -to the top by pluck, energy and determination.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady’s first journalistic venture was, we believe, -in his native town. He ran a small paper there, moved -thence to Atlanta, carrying on another newspaper venture -in the Georgia capital. In the course of events this paper -was swallowed up by the <i>Constitution</i>, then pushing itself -to the front of the Georgia press, and Mr. Grady was selected -as co-editor of the latter.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Under him that paper became one of the leading exponents -of Southern opinion, a representative of the progressive -South, not lingering over dead memories, but living -in the light of the present and laboring to build up this -section.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady and his paper were always the defenders of -the South, yet not afraid to expose and condemn its errors -and mistakes. He had the courage to speak out whenever -this was necessary, and when, some few months ago, regulators -attempted to introduce into Georgia, in the immediate -vicinity of Atlanta, the same practices as in Lafayette -parish in this State, Mr. Grady, through the <i>Constitution</i>, -denounced it vigorously. There were threats, but it did -not affect the <i>Constitution</i>, which insisted that the New -South must be a South of peace, law and order.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We cannot at this time review Mr. Grady’s entire -journalistic career. It is sufficient to say that with his -colleagues he built up his paper to be a power in Georgia -and the South. His ability was recognized throughout -<span class='pageno' id='Page_516'>516</span>this section, but it was not until his famous speech at the -New England dinner that his reputation became national.</p> - -<p class='c018'>When at that dinner, speaking for the New South he -so well represented, he pledged his brethren of the North -the patriotic devotion of the Southern people, he created -a sensation. Some of the most famous orators of the -country were present, but without a dissenting voice it was -declared that Mr. Grady’s speech was the event of the day. -It sent a thrill throughout the Union. The Southern people -rose to declare that Mr. Grady had fully explained -their views and ideas, and before his eloquent words the -prejudice which had lingered since the war in many portions -of the North disappeared. Perhaps no single event -tended more to bring the sections closer together than that -speech, which so eloquently voiced the true sentiments of -the Southern people. A wave of fraternal feeling swept -through the country, and although the Republican politicians -managed to counteract some of the good accomplished, -much of it remained. Mr. Grady deserves remembrance, -for in a few words, burning with eloquence, he -swept away the prejudices of years.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The country discovered that it contained an orator of -whom it had known but little, a statesman who helped to -remove the sectional hatred which had so long retarded its -progress. Mr. Grady became at once one of the best-known -men in the Union. He was spoken of for United -States Senator, he was mentioned as Vice-President, and it -looked as though he could be elevated to any position to -which he aspired; but he wisely clung to his journalistic -career, satisfied that he could thereby best benefit his -State and section.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was not a one-speech man. He has made -many addresses since then, and while it is true that his -other speeches did not create the same sensation as his -first, they were all eloquent, able and patriotic.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His career so auspiciously begun, which promised so -much to himself and the country, has been brought suddenly -and prematurely to a close. Mr. Grady was a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_517'>517</span>young man, and we had every reason to believe that he -would play a leading part in the South and in the country. -Although his career is thus cut short, he had accomplished -much, and the New South for which he spoke will carry -on the good work he began of uniting the entire country -on one broad and patriotic platform.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>SECOND TO NONE.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Louisville Courier-Journal.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span> died at his home in Atlanta yesterday. -There is that in the very announcement which is -heart-breaking. He was the rose and expectancy of the -young South, the one publicist of the New South, who, -inheriting the spirit of the old, yet had realized the present, -and looked into the future, with the eyes of a statesman -and the heart of a patriot. His own future was fully -assured. He had made his place; had won his spurs; and -he possessed the gifts, not merely to hold them, but greatly -to magnify their importance. That he should be cut down -upon the threshold of a career, for whose brilliant development -and broad usefulness all was prepared, is almost as -much a public calamity as it is a private grief. We tender -to his family, and to Georgia, whom he loved with the -adoration of a true son for a mother, the homage of our -respectful and profound sympathy.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady became a writer for the <i>Courier-Journal</i> -when but little more than a boy and during the darkest -days of the Reconstruction period. There was in those -days but a single political issue for the South. Our hand -was in the lion’s mouth, and we could do nothing, hope for -nothing, until we got it out. The young Georgian was -ardent, impetuous, the son of a father slain in battle, the -offspring of a section, the child of a province; yet he rose -to the situation with uncommon faculties of courage and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_518'>518</span>perception; caught the spirit of the struggle against -reaction with perfect reach; and threw himself into the -liberal and progressive movements of the time with the -genius of a man born for both oratory and affairs. He was -not long with us. He wished a wider field of duty, and -went East, carrying letters in which he was commended in -terms which might have seemed extravagant then, but -which he more than vindicated. His final settlement in -the capital of his native State and in a position where he -could speak directly and responsibly, gave him the opportunity -he had sought to make a fame for himself, and an -audience of his own. Here he carried the policy with -which, in the columns of the <i>Courier-Journal</i>, he had -early identified himself, to its finest conclusions; coming -at once to the front as a champion of a free South and a -united country, second to none in efficiency, equaled by -none in eloquence.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was eager and aspiring, and, in the heedlessness of -youth, with its aggressive ambitions, may not have been -at all times discriminating and considerate in the objects of -his attacks; but he was generous to a fault, and, as he -advanced upon the highway, he broadened with it and to it, -and, if he had lived, would have realized the fullest measure -of his own promise and the hopes of his friends. The -scales of error, when error he felt he had committed, were -fast falling from his eyes, and he was frank to own his -changed, or changing view. The vista of the way ahead -was opening before him with its far perspective clear to his -mental sight. He had just delivered an utterance of exceeding -weight and value, at once rhetorically fine and -rarely solid, and was coming home to be welcomed by his -people with open arms, when the Messenger of Death summoned -him to his last account. The tidings of the fatal -termination of his disorder are startling in their suddenness -and unexpectedness, and will be received North and South -with sorrow deep and sincere, and far beyond the bounds -compassed by his personality.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The <i>Courier-Journal</i> was always proud of him, hailed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_519'>519</span>him as a young disciple who had surpassed his elders in -learning and power, recognized in him a master voice and -soul, followed his career with admiring interest, and recorded -his triumphs with ever-increasing sympathy and -appreciation. It is with poignant regret that we record his -death. Such spirits are not of a generation, but of an -epoch; and it will be long before the South will find one to -take the place made conspicuously vacant by his absence.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A LOSS TO THE SOUTH.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Louisville Post.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady, of Atlanta, after so -brief an illness and in the very prime of a vigorous young -manhood, will startle the whole country and will be an -especial affliction to the South. Mr. Grady was a brilliant -journalist, a man of brain and heart, and by his sensible -and enthusiastic policy has identified himself with the -interests of the New South. In fact, few men have been -more largely instrumental in bringing about that salutary -sentiment, now prevailing, that it is best for the South to -look with hope and courage to the future, rather than to -live in sad inactivity amid the ruins of the past. Mr. -Grady was a warm and confident advocate of industrial -advancement in the land of his birth. He wanted to see -the South interlaced with railroads, her rich mineral deposits -opened to development, her cities teeming with factories, -her people busy, contented and prosperous. This was his -mission as a man and as a journalist, and his influence has -been widespread. Just at this time his loss will be doubly -severe.</p> - -<p class='c018'>One morning Henry Grady, who had possessed little -more than a sectional reputation, woke up to find himself -famous throughout the nation. By his speech at a New -York banquet he sounded the key-note of fraternal Union -<span class='pageno' id='Page_520'>520</span>between North and South, and his appeal for mutual trust -and confidence, with commerce and industry to cement -more strongly than ever the two great sections of the country, -met with a response from both sides of Mason and -Dixon’s line more hearty than ever before. Many another -man from the South felt the same sentiments and would -have expressed them gladly. Many a man in the North -felt that in the South those sentiments were sincerely held. -But Grady had a peculiar opportunity, and right well did -he improve it. He expressed eloquently and forcibly the -feelings, the purposes, the very spirit of the New South, -and in that very moment he made a reputation that is national. -It was his good fortune to express to the business -men as well as to the politicians of the nation the idea of an -indivisible union of interests, of sentiments and of purposes, -as well as of territory.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In Mr. Grady’s own State his death will be most felt. -What he has done for Georgia can only be appreciated by -those who compare its present activity and prosperity with -the apathy and discontent which existed there a few years -ago. The dead man will be sincerely mourned, but the -idea which he made the fundamental one of his brief career -will continue to work out the welfare of the New South.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE DEATH OF HENRY W. GRADY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> most brilliant journalist of the South is no more. -When the news was sent over the country yesterday morning -that Henry W. Grady, the editor of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>, -was dead, there were sighs of regret which, if -they could have been gathered together into one mass, -would have been heard across the Atlantic. He was peculiarly -gifted. With an imagery and wealth of language -that enabled him to clothe the most uninteresting subject -<span class='pageno' id='Page_521'>521</span>in a pleasing garb, he had at the same time the genius of -common sense more fully developed than most men now -prominently before the public. He was born in 1851 in the -town of Athens, Georgia, and was therefore less than forty -years of age. At college he was remarkable among his -fellows for those gifts of speech and pen which made him -famous. To his eternal honor, it can be said that in -neither the sanctum or the forum were his powers used in -a way to add to any one’s sorrow or distress. His writings -were clean and pure and in every line gave token of the -kind heart that beat in his bosom. Mr. Grady was a lovable -man. Those who knew him well entertained for him -the deepest affection. His face was itself a fair type of his -nature, which was essentially of the sunshine character.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was restlessly energetic and always agitating matters -that he believed would be promotive of the public -good. The Cotton States’ Exposition and the Piedmont -Exposition, both held in Atlanta, were literally the creations -of his energy and enthusiasm and pluck. It will no -doubt be readily admitted by his associates of the <i>Constitution</i> -that he was its moving spirit, and by his powers -largely made it the grand and magnificent success that it -undeniably is.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The Young Men’s Christian Association building, costing -$100,000, arose as by magic under the persuasive powers -of his tongue and pen. The list of his works of a practical -kind that now add to Atlanta’s character and position -could be indefinitely extended. When he appealed to -Atlanta he never spoke in vain, for in addition to brains -and energy he had those rare qualities of personal magnetism, -which made his originality and zeal wonderfully effective. -He entered into everything his big head conceived -with his whole heart and soul.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was loyal to his city and State, and never missed an -opportunity for aiding in their advancement. He was -sought out by the young and the old, and enjoyed the full -confidence of all who knew him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His name and fame, however, were not confined to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_522'>522</span>Georgia. In the Lone Star State, thousands flocked to the -city of Dallas to hear his great speech at the Texas State -Fair. His New York speech, a year or two ago, fairly -thrilled the country and caused the enactment of scenes -never before witnessed on similar occasions. No orator -had ever received such an ovation in that great city, and -none such has been since extended to any speaker. His -recent speech at Boston was calculated to do more good -for the entire country than anything that has fallen from -the lips of any man in the last decade. It will be a monument -to his memory more enduring than brass. It made a -profound impression on those who heard it. The sentiments -and truths he so boldly uttered are echoing and -re-echoing among the hills of New England and over the -prairies of the great West, and they will bear rich fruit in -the near future. They were things known to us all here, -but those who did not know and did not care have been -set to thinking by his eloquent presentation of the Southern -situation. That speech, perhaps, cost him his life; -but if it produces the effect on the Northern mind and -heart which it deserves, the great sacrifice will not have -been in vain. His death will cause a more earnest attention -to the great truths he uttered, and result in an -emphasis of them that could not have been attained otherwise, -sad as that emphasis may be. The death of such a -man is a national calamity. He had entered upon a career -that would have grown more brilliant each year of his life. -His like will not soon be seen and heard again.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>UNIVERSAL SORROW.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Nashville American.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> news of Mr. Grady’s death is received with universal -sorrow. No man of his age in the South or in the -Union has achieved such prominence or given promise of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_523'>523</span>greater usefulness or higher honors. His reputation as -a journalist was deservedly high; but he won greater -distinction, perhaps, by his public speeches. He was -intensely, almost devoutly Southern, but he had always -the respectful attention of the North when he spoke for the -land of his nativity. There was the ring of sincerity in his -fervid utterances, and his audiences, whether in the North -or in the South, felt that every word came hot from the -heart. He has done as much as any man to put the South -right before the world; and few have done more to promote -its progress and prosperity. He was a man of tremendous -energy, bodily and mental, and always worked -at high tension. Whatever subject interested him took -his mind and body captive, and into whatever cause he -enlisted he threw all the powers of his intellect and all the -force of a nature ardent, passionate, and enthusiastic in the -extreme. It is probable that the disease which laid hold of -him found him an easier prey because of the restless energy -which had pushed his physical powers beyond their capacity. -His nervous and impetuous temperament showed no -mercy to the physical man and made it impossible for him -to exercise a prudent self-restraint even when the danger -of a serious illness was present with him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady’s personal traits were such as won the love -of all who knew him. All knew the brilliant intellect; -but few knew the warm, unselfish heart. The place which -he held in public esteem was but one side of his character; -the place which he held in the hearts of his friends was the -other.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The South has other men of genius and of promise; but -none who combine the rare and peculiar qualities which -made Henry W. Grady, at the age of thirty-eight, one of -the most conspicuous men of his generation.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_524'>524</span> - <h3 class='c016'>THE HIGHEST PLACE.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Charleston News and Courier.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death of Henry W. Grady has removed from earth -the most prominent figure among the younger generation -of public men in America. He held unquestionably the -highest place in the admiration and regard of the people of -the South that was accorded to any man of his years, and -had won, indeed, by his own efforts and attainments a place -among the older and the most honored representatives of -the people of the whole country. It was said of him by a -Northern writer, a few days before his death, that no other -Southern man could command so large a share of the attention -of the Northern people, and his death was the result -of a visit to New England, whither he went in response to -an earnest invitation to speak to the people of that section -upon a question of the gravest national concern.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The people of Georgia both honored and loved Henry -Grady, and would have elected him to any office within -their gift. It is probable that, had he lived but a little -while longer, he would have been made Governor of the -State, or commissioned to represent it in the Senate of the -United States. He would have filled either of these positions -acceptably and with credit to himself; and perhaps -even higher honors awaited him. When his name was mentioned -a few months ago in connection with the nomination -for the second highest office in the gift of the people of the -whole country, the feeling was general and sincere that he -was fully worthy, at least, of the great dignity which it -was proposed to confer upon him. Certainly no other evidence -is required to prove that the brave and brilliant young -Georgian was a marked man, and that he had already made -a deep impression on the events and the men of his time -when he was so suddenly stricken down in the flower of -useful and glorious manhood.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is inexpressibly saddening to contemplate the untimely -<span class='pageno' id='Page_525'>525</span>ending of so promising a career. Only a few days -ago the brightest prospect that could open before the eyes -of any young man in all this broad land lay before the eyes -of Henry Grady. To-day his eyes are closed to all earthly -scenes. To-morrow the shadows of the grave will close -around him forever. But it will be long before his influence -will cease to be felt. The memory of his kindly, gracious -presence, of his eloquent words and earnest work, of -his generous deeds and noble example in the discharge of -all the duties of citizenship, will ever remain with those -who knew him best and loved him most.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To his wife and children he has left a rich inheritance -in his honored name, though he had left them nothing else. -The people of his State and of the South owe him a large -debt of gratitude. He served them faithfully and devotedly. -What he said so well, only a few months ago, of -one who served with him, and who like him was stricken -down in the prime of his life, can be said of Henry Grady -himself. It is true of him also that “his leadership has -never been abused, its opportunities never wasted, its power -never prostituted, its suggestions never misdirected.” -Georgia surely is a better and more prosperous State -“because he lived in it and gave his life freely and daily to -her service.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>And surely, again, “no better than this could be said of -any man,” as he said, and for as much to be written, in -truth and sincerity, over his grave, the best and proudest -man might be willing to toil through life and to meet death -at last, as he met it, “unfearing and tranquil.” His own -life, and the record and the close of his life, are best -described in these his own words, written ten months ago, -and, perhaps, no more fitting epitaph could be inscribed on -his tomb than the words which he spoke, almost at the last, -in the hour of his death: “Send word to mother to pray -for me. Tell her if I die, that I died while trying to serve -the South—the land I love so well.”</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_526'>526</span> - <h3 class='c016'>A BRILLIANT CAREER.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Baltimore Sun.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> death yesterday at Atlanta of Henry W. Grady, -editor of the <i>Constitution</i> of that city, is a distressing -shock to the thousands North and South who had learned -to admire his vigorous and impressive utterances on public -subjects. Young, enterprising, industrious and devoted to -the material advancement of his State and section, he was -a type of the progressive Southern man of our day. In the -face of the greatest possible difficulties and discouragements -he achieved success, intellectual and financial, of a -most substantial character. Mr. Grady’s career was brief -and meteoric, but it was also a useful career. His strong -grasp of present facts enabled him to guide and stimulate -the energies of those about him into profitable channels. -Full of ideas, which his intense, nervous nature fused into -sentiment, he exerted an influence which greatly promoted -the progress and prosperity of his section. Outside his -own State Mr. Grady will be best known, however, as a -brilliant and eloquent speaker. For some years past his -speeches at social gatherings of a semi-public character in -Northern cities have attracted a great deal of attention -North and South. His earlier utterances were a trifle effusive, -conceding overmuch, perhaps, under the inspiration of -the moment, to the prejudices of his audience. In discussing -fiscal measures he was sometimes at fault, political -economy not being his strongest point, but as regards the -relations of the sections, and especially as regards the so-called -Southern problem, he was a beacon of light to his -Northern auditors. His last speech at Boston the other -day—the delivery of which may be said to have brought -about his death—is a fitting monument of his genius and -impassioned eloquence. It thrilled the country with its -assertion of the right of the white race of the South to -intelligent government and its determination never again -<span class='pageno' id='Page_527'>527</span>to submit to the misrule of the African. Mr. Grady’s -speech on this occasion was remarkable not only for its -fervor and frankness—which conciliated his most unrelenting -political opponents—but also for its wealth of recent -fact, concisely stated and conclusive upon the point he had -in view. Is the full vote, as shown by the census, not -always cast in Southern elections? Neither is it cast in -Northern States, Mr. Grady showed, appealing to the facts -of the elections of November last. “When,” President -Harrison asked in his last message, referring to the colored -voter of the South—“when is he to have those full civic -rights which have so long been his in law?” He will have -them, Mr. Grady answered, when the poor, ignorant, and -dependent employé everywhere gets his. The colored -voter of the South cannot be reasonably expected, he -pointed out, to exercise his civil rights to a greater extent -than such rights are exercised by persons in his position in -the North and West. The point of view here taken was -new to Mr. Grady’s audience and new to the Northern -press. The effect of his speech, as a whole, upon Northern -opinion has been, it is believed, most beneficial. In the -South it was welcomed as an effort to put the Northern partisan -in a position to see in their true light the hardship -and danger with which the South is perpetually confronted. -In some remarks made later at the Bay State Club, in -Boston, Mr. Grady adverted to a larger problem—one that -confronts the whole country. “It seems to me,” he said, -“that the great struggle in this country is a fight against -the consolidation of power, the concentration of capital, the -domination of local sovereignty and the dwarfing of the -individual citizen. It is the democratic doctrine that the -citizen is master, and that he is best fitted to carry out the -diversified interests of the country. It is the pride, I -believe, of the South that her simple and sturdy faith, the -homogeneous nature of her people, elevate her citizens -above party. We teach the man that his best guide is the -consciousness of his sovereignty; that he may not ask the -national government for anything the State can do for him, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_528'>528</span>and not ask anything of the State that he can do for himself.” -These views mark the breadth of the speaker’s -statesmanship, and show that it embraced interests wider -than those of his own section—as wide, in fact, as the continent -itself. Mr. Grady died of pneumonia, complicated -with nervous prostration. His early death, at the outset of -a most promising career, is a warning to others of our -public men who are under a constant nervous tension. Attempting -too much, they work under excessive pressure, -and when, owing to some accident, they need a margin of -strength, there is none.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A PUBLIC CALAMITY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Selma Times and Mail.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>At</span> forty minutes past three o’clock on Monday morning -Henry W. Grady, the distinguished editor of the -Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>, died at his home of pneumonia. -No announcement of the death of any leading man of the -South has ever created a more profound impression, or -caused more genuine and universal sorrow than will the -sad news of the demise of this brilliant young Georgian, -coming as it does when he was at the very zenith of his -fame and usefulness. The death of Mr. Grady is a public -calamity that will be mourned by the entire country. It -is no exaggeration to say that no orator in the United -States since the days of S. S. Prentiss has had such wonderful -power over his audiences as Henry W. Grady. -This fact has been most forcibly illustrated by his two -memorable speeches at the North, the first in New York -something over a year ago, the second recently delivered -in Boston and with the praises of which the country is -still ringing. Sad, sad indeed to human perception that -such a brilliant light should have been extinguished when -<span class='pageno' id='Page_529'>529</span>it was shining the brightest and doing the most to dispel -the mists of prejudice. But an All-wise Providence knows -best. His servant had run his course, he had fulfilled his -destiny. The heart of the South has been made sad to -overflowing in a short space of time. Davis—Grady, types -of the past and the present, two noble representatives of -the highest order of Southern manhood and intelligence, -representing two notable eras, have passed away and left a -brilliant mark on the pages of history.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry W. Grady was a native Georgian. He was born -in Athens in 1851, and consequently was too young to participate -in the late war, but his father lost his life in -defense of the Confederate cause, and the son was an -ardent lover of the South. At an early age he developed -remarkable talent for journalism and entered the profession -as the editor of the Rome, Ga., <i>Commercial</i>. -After conducting this paper for several years he moved to -Atlanta, and established the <i>Daily Herald</i>. When Mr. -Grady came to the <i>Constitution</i> in 1880 he soon became -famous as a correspondent, and his letters were read far -and wide, and when he assumed editorial control of the -<i>Constitution</i>, the paper at once felt the impulse of his -genius, and from that day has pushed steadily forward in -popular favor and in influence until both it and its brilliant -editor gained national reputation. No agencies have -been more potent for the advancement of Atlanta than -Grady and the <i>Constitution</i>, the three indissolubly linked -together, and either of the three names suggests the other.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As a type of the vigorous young Southerner of the so-called -New South Mr. Grady has won the admiration of -the country and gone far to the front, but he has been the -soul of loyalty to his section, and has ever struck downright -and powerful blows for the Democratic cause and for -the rule of intelligence in the South. From the Potomac -to the Rio Grande all over our beautiful Southland to-day, -there will be mourning and sympathy with Georgia for the -loss of her gifted son.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_530'>530</span> - <h3 class='c016'>GRIEF TEMPERS TO-DAY’S JOY.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Austin, Tex., Statesman.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>When</span> an old man, full of years, and smitten with the -decrepitude they bring, goes down to the grave, the world, -though saddened, bows its acquiescence. It is recognized -that lonely journey is a thing foredoomed from the foundation -of the world—it is the way of all things mortal. But -when a young man, full of the vigor of a sturdy life growing -into its prime, is suddenly stricken from the number of -the quick, a nation is startled and, resentful of the stroke, -would rebel, but that such decrees come from a Power -that earth cannot reach, and which, though working -beyond the ken of fallible understanding, yet doeth all -things well.</p> - -<p class='c018'>For the second time within the past two weeks the -South has been called upon to mourn the demise of a -chosen and well-beloved son. The two men may be classified -according to an analysis first of all instituted by him -whose funeral to-day takes place in Atlanta. Jefferson -Davis was typical of the Old South—Henry W. Grady of -the New. And by this we mean not that the South has -put away those things that, as a chosen and proud people, -they have cherished since first there was a State government -in the South. They have the same noble type of -manhood, the same chivalrous ambitions, the same love of -home and state and country, they are as determined in -purpose, as unswerving in the application of principle. -But what is meant is that the material conditions of the -South have changed, the economics of an empire of territory -have been radically altered. Not only has a new class -of field labor taken the place of the long-accustomed slave -help, but industries unknown in the South before the war -have invaded our fair lands, and the rush and whir of -manufactories are all around us. It is in this that the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_531'>531</span>South has changed. Jefferson Davis, in his declining years -ushered into the reign of peace, was never truly identified -with the actualities of the living present, in the sense of a -man who, from the present, was for himself carving out a -future. His life was past, and for him the past contained -the most of earthly life—his was an existence of history, -not of activity—he was the personification of the Old South.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was too young to have participated in the -Civil War. He was then but a boy, and has grown into -manhood and power since the time when the issues that -gave birth to that war were settled. His has been a life -of the realistic present. He brought to a study of the -changes that were going on around him a keenly perceptive -and a well-trained mind—he studied the problems that -surrounded him thoroughly and conscientiously, and his -conclusions were almost invariably the soundest. He realized -the importance and responsibility of his position as -the editor of a widely circulating newspaper, and he was -unfaltering in his zeal to discharge his every duty with -credit to himself and profit to his people. He was the -champion of the Southern people through the columns of -his paper and upon the rostrum—and when he fell beneath -the unexpected stroke of the grim reaper, the South lost a -true and valiant friend, the ablest defender with pen and -word retort this generation has known.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As two weeks ago the South bowed in sorrow over the -last leaf that had fluttered down from the tree of the past, -so to-day, as the mortal remains of Henry W. Grady are -lowered into the tomb, she should cease from the merriment -of the gladsome holiday season, and drop a tear upon the -grave of him who, though so young in years, had in such -brilliant paragraphs bidden defiance to ancient prejudice, -scoffed at partisan bigotry, and proudly invited the closest -scrutiny and criticism of the South. That South in him -has lost a warm-hearted friend whom manhood bids us -mourn.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_532'>532</span> - <h3 class='c016'>HENRY GRADY’S DEATH.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Charleston Evening Sun.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry Grady</span> is dead.</p> - -<p class='c018'>With what an electric shock of pain and grief will this -simple announcement thrill the entire country. His death, -following close upon the death of the chieftain of the Old -South—full of age and honors, and followed to the grave -by the reverential and chastened grief of a whole people—is -in striking contrast and more poignant in its nature, -since the young Hercules thus prematurely cut down had -just sprung to the front as leader and chieftain of the New -South, and was largely the embodiment of her renaissance, -her rejuvenescent life and hopes and aspirations, as the -other was of her dead and sacred past.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the prime of life and the flower of robust manhood, -having just signalized himself by a triumph in which all -his powers of culture, talent, and patriotism were taxed to -the highest and nobly responded to the demand made -them, and having placed himself in the foremost ranks of -the world’s great men as a splendid type of the South’s -peculiar qualities, as a worthy heir of the virtues of the -Old South, and as the strongest champion of the hopes of -the New, his death at this time is to her a distinct calamity. -And yet for his own individual fame’s sake it is to be -doubted whether Mr. Grady, lived he “a thousand years, -would find” himself “so apt to die,” as now in the zenith -of his fame, with his “blushing honors thick upon him.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>With Burke he could say, “I can shut the book. I -might wish to read a page or two more. But this is -enough for my measure.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady had gained the attention of the Northern -ear and the confidence of the Northern people as no other -Southerner could boast of having done. When those -“grave and reverend seigniors” of the stern, inflexible, -unemotional Puritan race, who not a fortnight since, in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_533'>533</span>Boston’s banquet hall, wept manly unused tears at the -magic eloquence and pathos of the young Southerner’s -words, and fell to love him for the uncompromising truth, -the manliness, the directness and the candor of them, and -for the personal grace and fascination and humanitarian -kindliness of the speaker—when they learn that this being, -so lately among them, the chief object of their care and -attention, and so sentient-seeming and bounding with life -and the God-given inspiration of more than mortal vigor -called genius—that this being, so gifted, so sanguine, lies -cold and breathless in the chill arms of death, shall they -not, and through them the great people of whom they are -the proudest representatives, mingle their tears with ours -over the mortal remains of this new dead son of the South, -in whose heart was no rankling of the old deathly fratricidal -bitterness, but whose voice was ever raised for the -re-cementing of the fraternal ties so rudely broken by the -late huge world-shaking internecine strife?</p> - -<p class='c018'>And shall not his great appeal—yet echoing over the -country—for justice, moderation, forbearance, appreciation -for the South and the social evil under which she is providentially -unequally laboring to her destiny, be inerasibly -impressed upon the country, coming as it does from the -lips of a dying man?</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the death of Jefferson Davis the last barrier to a -complete reunion of the sections was removed. In the -death of Henry Grady the North and the South will be -brought together to mourn a mutual bereavement. If it -shall be the cause of completing the reunion of the sections, -his sad and untimely death will not have been in -vain.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>TWO DEAD MEN.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Greenville, S. C., News.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>In</span> the early days of this last month of the year Jefferson -Davis, old, feeble and weary, was lifted gently from -<span class='pageno' id='Page_534'>534</span>this world to the other, borne across the river in the arms -of Death as softly as a tired child carried on a father’s -breast. Yesterday Henry Grady, a young, strong man, -rejoicing in his growing strength, with the blood of life and -power and hope bounding through his veins, flushed with -the triumph of new and splendid achievement and returned -to his home with the proud burden of fresh laurels well -won, was swiftly struck down by that relentless power and -taken from the world he graced and lighted, to be known -and heard no more.</p> - -<p class='c018'>When Mr. Davis died the people of the South turned -back to mourn, to heap high the tributes of their honor and -affection on the grave wherein sleeps the representative of -a cause lost except to memory, of a past gone forever. -When Grady went down, a captain of the host, a leader of -the present battle, fell, and along all the far-stretching lines -the shock and loss will be felt.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was happy in the time of his death—happy as is the -soldier who falls in the supreme moment of triumph, when -he has struck a grand and sweeping blow for his cause and -the proclamation of his glory and jubilation of his comrades -make music to attend his soul in its departure. He had led -in the steady march of the South upward to prosperity and -a high place among the peoples of the earth; his watchful -eye was everywhere in the ranks; his spirit of courage and -hope was felt everywhere. His voice rang out clear and -stirring as the trumpet’s blare to arouse the lagging, to call -the faltering forward, to fill all the air with faith in the -South and the glory of her future, so that weak men grew -strong in breathing it and the timid were fired with the -valor of belief. He stood high and far in the front and -proclaimed to all the world the spirit and the purpose of -the young men of his country—the men young in heart and -living and thinking in the atmosphere and light of to-day. -He proclaimed it so well that the measured music of his -words was heard above the clamoring of hate and penetrated -the dullness of indifferent ears, moving the hearts of the -people to unity and stimulating the manhood of the country -<span class='pageno' id='Page_535'>535</span>to shake from it factional and sectional rage and consecrate -itself to a common patriotism, a single love for a -great Republic.</p> - -<p class='c018'>That was his work, and he died doing it as no other man -had done it. He had gained his place by the power of his -own strength before his years had brought him to the prime -of his manhood, and he fell in it just after he had stood -shoulder to shoulder and shared hearing and honors with -the country’s foremost man who has occupied the country’s -highest place.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His life was crowded with successful endeavor; in deeds, -in achievement for his country and his people and in honors -he was an old man. He had done in less than two-score -years more than it is given to most men to do to the time -of whitened hair and trembling limbs, and he had earned -his rest. The world had little more to offer him but its -inevitable cares and disappointments; the promise from his -past was that he had much more to do for the world and -his fellow-man. The loss is his country’s.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His whole country—and especially the South he loved -so well—owes to his memory what it cannot now express -to him—honor and gratitude.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His powerful presence is gone; the keen and watchful -eyes are closed forever; the vibrant voice is hushed. But -his words will live, his work will last and grow; his memory -will stand high on the roll of the South’s sons who have -wrought gloriously for her in war and in peace, who by -valor or wisdom have won the right to be remembered with -love and called with pride.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>GRADY’S RENOWN.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Birmingham News.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>No</span> such universality of personal poignant sorrow ever -pervaded a city as that which overshadows the capital of -Georgia. There, everybody knew Henry Grady, and it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_536'>536</span>was not the journalist and orator and statesman they -saluted familiarly everywhere—in public assemblies and -on the streets and at their firesides. Every home in the -city was in fact the home of the kindly, generous, laughing -philosopher, whose business it was to make his people -happy, his city prosperous, and his State the foremost of -Southern commonwealths.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And then his grand purpose in life was the restoration -of the unity and integrity of the States. His speeches in -New York and Boston, that will live as long as unhappy -memories of inter-State hostilities, which he proposed to -dissipate forever, followed one another naturally. The -first portrayed the necessity for a perfect Federal Union. -The second and last defined the only method of achieving -it. The first paved the way for a presidential contest, -from which sectional issues were almost wholly eviscerated. -President Cleveland was so thoroughly imbued -with the sentiment and purpose of Grady’s oration at the -New England dinner in New York that he hazarded, or -sacrificed, deliberately the certainty of partisan and personal -triumph that the country might escape greater -calamities, involved necessarily in a conflict in which -African ex-slaves became the sole subject of passionate -controversy and maddening declamation. The campaign -was one of practical and not sentimental issues.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Everybody has read the recent more wonderful outburst -of passionate eloquence that startled Boston and the -East, and forced New England, for the first time, to contemplate -the relations of races in the South as did Mr. -Grady, and as do New Englanders themselves, having -homes in the Gulf States. Facts propounded were unquestionable, -palpable truths. There was no answer to his -irrefragable logic. Grady’s matchless eloquence charmed -every listener. His peroration will become the choicest -specimen of impassioned oratory declaimed by schoolboys -in every academy in which proper pedagogues inculcate -proper patriotism in all this broad land.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Then came Grady’s death. It shocked the country -<span class='pageno' id='Page_537'>537</span>that a man so gifted and the only American capable of -pronouncing an oration as faultless as the philippics of -Demosthenes, or as the sturdy, resistless orations of Gladstone, -could not live immortal as his prophetic sentences -that still illumine the brain and electrify the heart of an -entire people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Grady’s two speeches in the East, if he had never written -or spoken aught else, would be the Leuctra and Mantinea, -immortal victories and only daughters of an Epaminondas. -If there survived no other children of Henry -Grady’s genius than these two, his renown would be as -lasting as the glory and greatness and peace of the Republic -which he gave his life to assure.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HENRY W. GRADY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Augusta Chronicle.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Two</span> weeks ago the people of the South were called -upon to mourn the death of Jefferson Davis. An aged -man was gathered to his home in the fullness of years, with -his life-work done. He was the embodiment of a sacred -past, and men turned with reverence to do him honor for -the cause he had championed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To-day the people again note the presence of the Great -Reaper. This time a young man is cut down in the prime -of life. His work lay bright before him. His face was toward -the morning. The one represented all that the South -had been: the other much that she hoped to be. He was -the inspiration of a renewed and awakened South with a -heart full of reverence and hope and buoyancy—bound to -the past by tender memories, but confident of the future -with all the heartiness of a sanguine nature. Possibly it -was because of the progressive sentiments which he -breathed that all sections and all people are to-day in -grief over the gifted dead. There is mourning in every -<span class='pageno' id='Page_538'>538</span>Georgia hamlet, such as there has been for no young man -since Thomas R. R. Cobb was brought home a corpse from -Fredericksburg. There are tributes of respect from Boston, -where he stood last week, with his face aglow with -the light of a newer life, to Texas, where last year he delivered -a message of fiery eloquence to his people. It was the -national feeling which Henry Grady had kindled in the -South—a faith in our future, a devotion to the Union—a -practical setting to our destiny—that now lament the loss -of such a man, and which sends over the wires from every -section of the country the words, “Untimely, how untimely!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry W. Grady was born in Athens. He was but -thirty-eight when he died. His father was a country merchant -who kept his family in competency, and the house, -where little Henry used to leave his romping playmates to -read Dickens under the trees, now stands on Prince avenue, -with its deep shades, its gleaming white pillars, its high -fence and old-time appearance. When war came on the -elder Grady went out with his company. His name now -indents the marble side of the soldiers’ monument in -Athens—erected to those who fell in battle. Educated at -the State University, Henry Woodfin Grady graduated in -1868. In his class were Albert H. Cox, George T. Goetchius, -P. W. Meldrin, Julius L. Brown, W. W. Thomas and -J. H. Rucker—among the living—and Charles S. DuBose, -Walter S. Gordon, Davenport Jackson, and F. Bowdre -Phinizy among the dead. In college Henry Grady was -more of a reader than a student. He knew every character -in Dickens and could repeat the Christmas Stories by heart. -He was a bright, companionable boy, full of frankness, -brimming over with fun and kindness, and without a -thought of the great career that lay before him. From -Athens he went to Rome where he engaged in newspaper -work. His letters to the Atlanta papers attracted the attention -of Col. I. W. Avery, who gave him several odd -jobs. There was a dash and creaminess in his sketch work -which became popular at once. From Rome young Grady -<span class='pageno' id='Page_539'>539</span>went to Atlanta, and with Col. Robert A. Alston started -the Atlanta <i>Herald</i>.</p> - -<p class='c018'>From this time he has been a public figure in Georgia. -The <i>Herald</i> was immensely popular. Its methods were all -new. Grady widened its columns to make it look like -Horace Greeley’s paper, and hired special engines in imitation -of James Gordon Bennett. He made money but spent -it lavishly for news. His editorial sketches were wonderfully -clever. His “Last Man in the Procession,” “The -Trained Journalist,” “Toombs and Brown,” attracted wide -attention. But the <i>Herald</i> could not stand this high pressure. -Under the cool, skilled management of the <i>Constitution</i>, -Grady’s paper succumbed, and with it all of his private -means were lost. The young man in 1876 was absolutely -penniless. It was then his genius burst forth, -however. The New York <i>Herald</i> ordered everything he -could write. The Augusta <i>Constitutionalist</i> paid for his -letters from Atlanta. He started a Sunday paper, which -he afterwards gave up, and pretty soon he was regularly -engaged by the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i>. During the electoral -trouble in Florida, Grady kept the Northern papers full of -luminous sketches about politics and fraud. Then he commenced -to write up the orange interests in Florida, winning -the attention of the North and attracting scores of visitors -to the Land of Flowers. Next he took up bee culture and -stock raising in Georgia. He made the sand pear of -Thomasville famous. He revived the melon interest, and, -in his wizard-like way, got the people to believe in diversified -farming. There was a richness and lightness in his -touch which added interest to the most practical subject. -What he handled was adorned. He drew people to Atlanta -by his pen-pictures of a growing town. In the Philadelphia -<i>Times</i> of this period were fine letters about public men and -battles of the war. He became a personality as well as a -power in journalism. No man was better known in Georgia -than Henry Grady.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry Grady, shortly after he left college, was married -to Miss Jule King, daughter of Dr. Wm. King, of Athens. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_540'>540</span>Two children, Gussie and Henry, bear his name. Mr. -Grady’s work on the <i>Constitution</i> was inspirational. When -he became interested he would apply himself closely, working -night and day in a campaign or upon a crusade. Then -he would lighten up, contenting himself with general supervision; -frequently taking trips away for diversion. He -was singularly temperate—not drinking wine or using -tobacco; but his emotional nature kept him constantly at -concert pitch. His nervous system was in perpetual strain -and he sank as soon as stricken.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was in 1877 that he made his first appearance as a -speaker. His lecture that year, entitled “Patchwork -Palace,” showed his fancy and talent as a talker as well as -a writer. Then came his speeches in the prohibition contest -in 1885. His New England banquet address in December, -1886, was his first distinctive political speech. It -stamped him as an eloquent orator and made him national -fame. His oration at the Augusta Exposition on Thanksgiving -day last year was a perfect effort, and his Dallas -address in October was a fearless and manly analysis of the -race problem. It was this subject, classified and digested, -that made up his Boston address, where, last week, he completed -his fame and met his death. His address last year -at the University of Virginia was a model of its kind.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Of late years Henry Grady had been settling down to -the level of a solid worker, a close thinker and safe leader. -If there was anything in his way to wide influence in earlier -life, it was his irrepressible fancy and bubbling spirit. -These protruded in speech and writing. But as he grew -older he lopped off this redundant tegument. He never -lost the artist’s touch or the poet’s enthusiasm. But age -and experience brought conservatism. He became a power -in politics from the day the <i>Herald</i> backed Gordon for the -Senate in 1872. He followed Ben Hill in his campaign with -great skill, and in 1880 did as much as any man to win the -great Colquitt-Brown victory. In 1886 he managed Gen. -Gordon’s canvass for Governor, and in 1887 planned and -conducted the first successful Piedmont Exposition.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_541'>541</span>Some may say that Henry Grady died at the right time -for his fame. This may be true as to others, but not as to -him. They know not, who thus judge him, what was in -the man. Some mature early in life and their mentality is -not increased by length of years, but the mind of our dead -friend was constantly developing. The evidence of this -was his Boston speech, which in our opinion was the best -ever delivered by him. No man could foresee the possibilities -of such a mind as his. He had just reached the -table land on the mountain top, from which his mental -vision could calmly survey the true situation of the South, -and his listening countrymen would hear his inspiring -admonitions of truth, wisdom and patriotism. Mr. Grady -had firmly planted his feet on the ladder of fame. He had -the genius of statesmanship, and, had he lived, we have no -doubt that he would have measured up to the full stature -of the most gifted statesmen whose names adorn the annals -of the Republic.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In speaking of the loss to this section, we do not wish -to indulge in the language of exaggeration when we say -that the South has lost her most gifted, eloquent and useful -son. His death to Georgia is a personal bereavement. -His loss to the country is a public one. He loved Georgia. -He loved the South. With the ardor of a patriot he loved -his whole country, and his last public words touched the -patriotic heart of the people and the responsive throb came -back from all sections for a re-united people and a restored -Union.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry Grady has not lived in vain. He is dead, but his -works will live after him and bear fruits in the field of -patriotism.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There was one thing about Henry Grady. He never -ran for office or seemed to care for public honor. In the -white heat of politics for fifteen years he has been mostly -concerned in helping others. The young men of the State -who have sought and secured his aid in striving for public -station are many. But until last year when his own name -was mentioned for the national Senate he had shunned -<span class='pageno' id='Page_542'>542</span>such prominence. At that time it was seriously urged -against him that he had never served in the Legislature -and that his training had not been in deliberative bodies. -But the time was coming when he must have held high -public place. The Governor’s chair or the Senator’s toga -would have been his in the near future. His leadership in -practical matters, in great public works, the impulse he -had given the people in building up the material interests -of the South were carrying him so rapidly to the front that -he could not have kept out of public office. But his -position at the time of his death was unique. He was a -power behind the throne, mightier than the throne itself. -He was a Warwick like Thurlow Weed. Whether official -station could have increased his usefulness is a question. -Whether his influence would have been advanced by going -into politics was a problem which he had never settled in -his own mind. Already he had a constituency greater than -that of governor or senator. He spoke every week to more -people than the chief magistrate of any state in the Union. -He employed a vehicle of more power than the great seal -of the State. He wrote with the pen of genius and spoke -the free inspiration of an untrammeled citizen. He was -under no obligations but duty and his own will. He made -friends rather than votes and his reward was the love and -admiration of his people—a more satisfactory return than -the curule chair.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And so his death, cruel, untimely and crushing, may -have been a crown to a noble, devoted and gifted life. -His happiness, his influence, his reputation had little to -ask in the turmoil of politics. Its uncertainties and ingratitudes -would have bruised a guileless, generous heart. -Not that he was unequal to it, but because he did not need -public office, may we seek satisfaction in the fact that he -lived and died a faithful worker and a private citizen. His -last plea was for the people of a slandered section—an -answer to the President that “the South was not striving -to settle the negro problem.” It was an inspiration and -wrung praise from friend and opponent. It cost him his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_543'>543</span>life, but no man ever gave up life in nobler cause. He -lived to see his State prosperous, his reputation Union-wide, -his name honored and loved, his professional work -full of success, and no man has gone to the grave with -greater evidences of tenderness and respect.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As Grady said of Dawson, so let us say of Grady: -“God keep thee, comrade; rest thy soul in peace, thou -golden-hearted gentleman!”</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>TRUE AND LOYAL.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Athens Banner.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry Grady</span> has done as much for his country as any -man, be he living or dead. He has stood by his people -and their institutions, and his pen and his voice were -always heard in their defence. Henry Grady died as he -lived—battling for the good name of the South, and in defending -his people from the slander of their enemies. In -their grief over the death of this brilliant young journalist -and statesman, his section will shed as bitter tears as were -showered upon the bier of Jefferson Davis. One died full -of years and honor—the other was cut down in the prime -of manhood, and spread out before him was the brightest -future ever vouchsafed to man. His loss to the South is -irreparable. There is no one who can take his place.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But the beautiful traits of Grady’s character were best -known to his own people. He was as true to his friends as -is the needle to the pole—his hands were ever open to appeals -for charity—he was loyalty itself—his heart was as -guileless as a child’s and as innocent as a woman’s—his -whole aim and ambition was to do good, develop his section, -and stand by his people, and do manly battle for their -good name and their rights.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_544'>544</span> - <h3 class='c016'>MR. GRADY’S DEATH.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Savannah Times.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry Woodfin Grady</span>, Georgia’s bright particular -genius, is dead!</p> - -<p class='c018'>A dread disease contracted in the bleak North barely a -fortnight ago, cut him down ere he had hardly stepped -across the threshold of what promised to be the most -remarkable life of its generation. Here, in his dearly loved -mother State, his brilliant mind was a source of pride to -the whole people. Throughout the length and breadth of -the South, which owed him incalculably much, Henry -Grady’s name is a household word. And as no other -Southerner, save possibly our illustrious Gordon, he had -caught the ear, aye, and the heart of hearts of the Northern -land. Yes, and beyond the seas his fame had gone, -and in foreign climes his intellect had impressed the intellectual. -To the manner born, he loved his State and his -South with all the ardor of the highest type of patriot. -His tongue was never silent nor his inkhorn dry when our -people were aspersed. He met traducers with truths and -a glittering wit which were matchless.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Grady was a genius born. His work has proved it. -Ah! the sad part of it is that Death has snatched him with -so much of the grand mission which was plainly his unfinished. -Nature seldom endows her children with the -gifts with which she favored Grady. Among modern orators -he was the peer of any and his pen spoke as eloquently -as his tongue. Whether at his desk or facing an audience, -his thoughts found expression in a rapid, graceful, forcible -style. No man was more entertaining in private life, -though it must be confessed that Mr. Grady had moments -when he became so absorbed in his own thoughts that he -was oblivious to what was passing around him, and men -who knew him not were apt to do him an injustice in judging -him. His life was devoted to Atlanta and Georgia, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_545'>545</span>and to the effacing of the sectional line which divided the -South and the North. The bringing of the people of the -two sections into closer relations of thought and industry -was a mission which it did seem had been especially -reserved for him. No man in the North has shown the -breadth of view which marked this Georgian. His last -public utterance attracted the attention of the English-speaking -world as no other speech in recent years has done -and, while the applause was still echoing from shore to -shore of this continent, he was stricken.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In his chosen profession, newspaper work, Grady illustrated -its great possibilities. What the elder Bennett, -Thurlow Weed and Greeley were to the press of the North, -Grady was to the press of the South. Public honors were -undoubtedly awaiting him, and he had but to stretch out -his hand.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A Roman emperor’s boast was that he found the Eternal -City one of bricks and left it one of marble. Henry -Grady found Atlanta an unpretentious town and literally -made it the most progressive city in the South.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A GREAT LOSS TO GEORGIA.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Columbus Enquirer-Sun.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'>“<span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span> died at 3:40 o’clock this morning.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Such was the brief dispatch received early yesterday -morning by the <i>Enquirer-Sun</i>. A simple announcement -of the death of a private citizen, but of one who had -endeared himself to the people of his native State and the -entire South, and little wonder is it that it should have -caused considerable sensation throughout the city and been -the cause of numerous inquiries.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The brilliant Grady dead! He who had just returned -from a triumphant ovation at the North where he attracted -profound attention by the delivery of one of the grandest, -most comprehensive and magnificent speeches on a subject -<span class='pageno' id='Page_546'>546</span>of vital importance to the South and the country—cold in -the embrace of death. The news was so sad and unexpected -that it was difficult to realize, and surprise was -engulfed in one universal expression of sorrow and regret, -as the full force of the direful announcement, “Grady is -dead!” was impressed on the public mind.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The bright, genial, brilliant and magnetic Grady! The -fearless, eloquent and talented young Georgian whose name -is synonymous with that of his native State throughout -this broad land; the earnest, industrious, versatile and able -journalist, dead! Cut down in the very prime of life; at -the very threshold of a career which held forth greater -promise of fame and honors than that of any man in the -State at the present moment. This knowledge adds weight -to the grief that fills every heart in Georgia at the thought -that Henry Grady is no more.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His death is not only a great loss to Atlanta in whose -building up he had given the full vigor of his great intellect -and tireless energy, the State, whose devoted lover and -earnest pleader he was, and the South at large, whose fearless -eloquent champion he had ever proved himself on -many memorable occasions, but to the country. No man -of the present age has done more to bring about a thorough -understanding between the two sections than Henry Grady. -While there may have been in his two notable speeches at -New York and Boston some declarations in which there -was not universal coincidence of opinion, either North or -South, it is generally recognized that great good has been -accomplished in giving the intelligent and fair-minded -people of the North a clearer and better insight into -Southern affairs and removing unjust prejudices. The -people of the South and of Georgia owe much to Henry -Grady, and will ever hold in grateful and affectionate remembrance -his good work in their behalf.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Georgia has not produced a citizen who, in private station, -has achieved such renown, and who has so absorbed -the affections of the people as Henry W. Grady. In every -city, town, and hamlet throughout the State, will his death -<span class='pageno' id='Page_547'>547</span>be mourned, and regret, deep and universal, expressed that -the State should be deprived of the services of a citizen so -useful and valuable at almost the very commencement of a -glorious and brilliant career.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Grady was magnetic, eloquent, warm-hearted, and impulsive, -and numbered his personal and devoted friends, -as he did his admirers, by the thousands. The writer had -known him long and intimately, and thoroughly appreciated -his kindness of heart and the strength of his friendship, -and his regret at the loss of the State is heightened -by the knowledge of the loss of a personal friend and associate.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The sincerity of the grief which pervades Georgia to-day -is the greatest tribute that can be paid to the memory of -this peerless young Georgian who, in his peculiar magnetism, -was simply incomparable.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To his beloved wife and children, and his proud, fond -mother, at this hour of fearful bereavement the heartfelt -sympathies of the entire State are extended. May God in -his infinite mercy temper the force of this terrible blow to -them, and enable them to bow in Christian resignation to -His Divine will.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE MAN ELOQUENT.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Rome Tribune.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>In</span> the hush of that dark hour which just precedes the -dawn—in its silence and darkness, while Love kept vigil by -his couch of pain and breathed sweet benedictions on his -dying brow—the spirit of Henry Grady, the South’s -fame-crowned son—her lover and her champion—the Man -Eloquent—the courtly gentleman—whose laureled brow -while yet flushed with earth’s triumphs towered into immortality—the -spirit of this man of love and might passed -from the scenes which its radiance had illumined to the -loftier life of the world beyond.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_548'>548</span>From city to city and hamlet to hamlet the wires flashed -the sad intelligence. Men paused and doubted as the message -passed from lip to lip—paused with wet eyes and -wondering, stricken hearts.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The scholar closed his book and reverently bent his head -in grief; the toiler in the sanctum stayed his pen and read -the message with moistened eyes; the merchant on the -busy mart sighed over its fatal sentences—men, women, -little children, lifted up their voices and wept.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Our hearts can find no words to voice our grief for him. -And how idle are all words now! Vainly we vaunt his -virtues—his high nobility of soul—his talents fine—his -service to the State, and all the graces rare that crowned -his wondrous personality. Vainly, because these are well -known to men; and that great fame whose trumpet blast -has blown his name about the world, has also stamped it -deeply upon grateful, loving hearts, that rise up and call -him blessed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We would stand in silence in the presence of a death -like this; for the presence of the Lord is there, and the -place is sacred. The hand of God is in it: This man, who, -though he had reached the heights, was but upon the threshold -of his brilliant career—this man, elected to a high and -noble work, to whom we had entrusted the future of the -South, and sent him forth to fight her battles with the -world—in the morning of his days, in the midst of his -great usefulness, flushed with the triumphs of his last -and mightiest effort; with the applause of thousands ringing -in his ear and the “well-done” of his people crowning -all—suddenly, and without warning, renounces his worldly -honors—lays down the burden which he had but taken up, -and sighs farewell to all!</p> - -<p class='c018'>We cannot understand it. The reality is too much!</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>We falter where we firmly trod,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And, falling with our weight of cares</div> - <div class='line in2'>Upon the great world’s altar stairs</div> - <div class='line'>That slope through darkness up to God,</div> - <div class='line'>We stretch blind hands of Faith that grope!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c024'><span class='pageno' id='Page_549'>549</span>But God reigns, and in the mystery of His providence -willeth all things well. Grady is dead. “He has fought -a good fight; he has finished his course; he has kept the -faith!” A hero, he died at his post; in the full blaze of -his fame, with the arms of the South around him, he breathed -away his life upon her breast. Could man desire more?</p> - -<p class='c018'>The South will miss him long and sorely. There is no -man to take his place; to do that high, especial work which -he has done so well. Aye! miss him, sweet South, and -shed for him your tenderest tears of love, for he loved you -and gave himself for you—he laid down his life for your -sake! And you, ye sons and daughters of the South! if -ye can see his face for weeping, draw near and look your -last! And let the North draw near and clasp strong hands -of sympathy above his bier!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Farewell to thee, comrade! Knightly and noble-hearted -gentleman—farewell! The fight is over—the victory won, -and lo! while yet we weep upon the field deserted, a shout -rings through the portals of the skies and welcomes the -victor home! And there, while the lofty pæan sounds from -star to star, thy peaceful tent is pitched within the verdant -valleys of eternal rest!</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>DEATH OF HENRY W. GRADY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Savannah News.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Georgia</span> mourns for one of her most distinguished sons. -Henry W. Grady, who, a week ago last Thursday, held -entranced, and at times moved to enthusiastic applause, -by his eloquence, an audience composed of Boston’s prominent -citizens, and whose name on the following day was -on the lips of millions of people, is cold in death in his -Atlanta home. He died before he had reached the meridian -of life or the zenith of his fame. His mind was steadily -broadening, and he was constantly giving evidence of -the possession of still greater ability than he had yet displayed. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_550'>550</span>In his Boston speech he handled the race question -in a way that showed that he was not a mere rhetorician, -but a genuine orator, who could direct the minds of -men as well as touch their hearts and dazzle their imaginations. -Had he lived, he would have won a name that -would have had a permanent place in the history of his -country. As it is, he will be remembered as a brilliant -young man whom death claimed before he had time to -show that he was fully capable of meeting the expectations -which were entertained with regard to him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was full of resources and a tireless worker. -He entered the profession of journalism very early in life, -and such was the energy and intensity with which he -devoted himself to it, that even if he had not possessed -extraordinary talents, he could hardly have failed to succeed; -but, having a special fitness for his work and ability -of a very high order, it was not strange that he quickly -made a reputation that was not confined by the lines of -his State.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was never satisfied with what he had accomplished. -He felt that he was capable of still better things, -and he strove constantly to reach a higher mark of excellence. -No sooner was he done with one undertaking than -his busy brain was engaged with another; and it can be -said of him that his aims were not selfish ones. No doubt -he had the ambitions which every man of marked ability -has, but the good of others entered largely into his thoughts -and plans. Atlanta owes to his memory a debt she can -never repay. During all the time he was a resident within -her limits he kept her interests steadily in view. He contributed -to her prosperity in a hundred ways, and when -her people were lukewarm in enterprises which he or others -suggested, he pointed out to them their duty, and urged -them to perform it so eloquently and strongly that they fell -into line and won success when many thought success was -impossible.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was not apparently anxious to accumulate -wealth. Money did not remain with him long. His purse -<span class='pageno' id='Page_551'>551</span>was always open to his friends, and those who had claims -never had to ask him twice for assistance when he was able -to render it. Doubtless there are hundreds in Atlanta who -are able to speak from personal knowledge of his free-handed -liberality.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady never held public office. Had he lived, however, -it is probable that he would have entered the political -arena. He was gradually being drawn in that direction, -and during the last two or three years his name was frequently -mentioned in connection with the offices of Senator -and Governor. His triumphs were won as a journalist and -an orator. In the latter character he first achieved a -national reputation at the dinner of the New England -Society in 1886.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Georgians loved Mr. Grady and were proud of him. -The death of very few other men could have so filled their -hearts with sorrow.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HENRY W. GRADY DEAD.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Albany News and Advertiser.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> flash that announced over the wires the death of -Henry W. Grady shocked the country, for it was a -national calamity.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is seldom that a people are called upon in so short a -space of time to mourn the loss of two such men as Jefferson -Davis and Henry W. Grady. The first was a blow for -which we were prepared, for like ripened grain, Mr. Davis -fell, full of years and honor, before the scythe of the -reaper; but the death of Mr. Grady comes to us as a sorrow -with all the force of a painful surprise. He was cut -down in the bloom of a robust physical manhood, in the -full enjoyment of his magnificent mental powers by which -he had just ascended to the very pinnacle of fame. The -eyes of the country were fixed upon him, the son of the -South, whose transcendent genius inspired the hope of the -blessed realization of promises with which his brief but -<span class='pageno' id='Page_552'>552</span>brilliant career was so full. But in the death of this -illustrious journalist and matchless orator the lesson is -enforced that “The path of glory leads but to the grave.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady grew up in the refined atmosphere of cultured -Athens, and his mental nature treasured the classic -light of that seat of learning, and it glowed with attractive -radiance in all of his editorial work. In his death the -press of the country loses its brightest ornament, and the -South loses a champion without compare, whose pen was a -trenchant blade in fighting her battles, and a shield when -used to defend her from the hurtling arrows of envy and -malice. His luminous pen made the path of the South’s -progress glow, as with unflagging zeal he devoted his best -endeavors to the amelioration of her war-ruined condition.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady, as the representative of what people are -pleased to call the “New South,” but which is the “Old -South” rehabilitated, was, in the providence of God, calculated -to do for his country what Hill, Gordon and other -brilliant lights of the old <i>régime</i> could never have compassed. -As David, “the man of war,” was not permitted -to build the temple, but that glory was reserved for Solomon, -so Grady, the exponent of present principles, was -permitted to gather the fragments and broken columns of -the South’s ruined fortunes and begin the erection of a -temple of prosperity so grand in proportion, so symmetrical -in outline, as to attract, in its incomplete state, the -admiration of the world.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the extremity of our grief we are apt to magnify our -loss, but this, indeed, seems irreparable, and we can take -no comfort in the assurance of the philosopher who codified -the experience of the past into the assurance that -great ability is always found equal to the demand. On -whom will Grady’s mantle fall? There really seems to be -none worthy to wear what he so easily graced. And every -Southern heart weighed down with a sense of its woe cannot -but ask,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>O death, why arm with cruelty thy power</div> - <div class='line'>To spare the idle weed yet lop the flower?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_553'>553</span> - <h3 class='c016'>STILLED IS THE ELOQUENT TONGUE.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Brunswick Times.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span> is dead!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Hushed forever is the voice of the South’s most wonderful -orator!</p> - -<p class='c018'>With the laurel upon his brow, with the plaudits of a -nation ringing in his ears, with the love of his people freshly -spoken, with a crown of glory about him, the matchless -defender of the South has passed from earth, and beyond -the silence of the stars his soul dwells in the companionship -of the great who have gone before.</p> - -<p class='c018'>With his sorrow fresh upon the South, this death and -loss following so closely upon that other in New Orleans -but a few days ago, the heart is not in keeping with the -brain, and not now can the pen dipped only in tears write.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry Grady had not reached the zenith of his fame, -for the circle was widening for him and there were still -brighter flowers for him to pluck, and in her hand Honor -held out still richer prizes. But the mystery of death is -upon him, and from his hand has dropped the forceful, -graceful pen, and in silence and peace he sleeps for the -grave.</p> - -<p class='c018'>With a superb intellect, with an eloquence rivalling -the golden-tonged Chrysostom, with a love almost unapproached -by any other for the South and her people, he -stood peerless and matchless as his land’s defender and -leader in all that made for her peace, prosperity and -happiness.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But his sun has set. It matters not that in all brightness -it went down; it matters not that he died full of -honors; about that grave a people will gather with tears -fast flowing and hearts crushed and bleeding. It is hard -to give up one so grand of mind, so wonderful of tongue, -so magnetic of personality, so richly endowed in all that -equips the great leader.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_554'>554</span>And such was Henry W. Grady.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Atlanta will mourn him, Georgia will weep for him, and -the South will sorrow indeed.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Upon his bier the <i>Times</i> lays this tribute and stands -reverent and uncovered by the grave of Georgia’s most -brilliant son.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A SHINING CAREER.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Macon Telegraph.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry Grady</span> is dead. This announcement carried sorrow -all over Georgia yesterday, for there were few men in -whom the people of this State felt so much interest or for -whom they cherished such a warm affection as they did for -this gifted and lovable man. He had not attained his -thirty-ninth year when “God’s finger touched him” and -closed his remarkable career, but his name was familiar -from one limit of this Union to the other. Georgia had no -more famous citizen, and perhaps there never was a man in -this State in private station who was so widely known or -so much admired. Mr. Grady never held a public office, -and yet he was a recognized force in Georgia politics almost -before he had reached the years of statutory manhood. -He devoted his life to journalism, and in his chosen field -achieved a national fame. He began his career as a boy -editor in Rome, and at an age when most men are merely -selecting their standards and shaping themselves for the real -work of life, he became a prominent and influential figure, -a leader of thought, and a promoter of public enterprises. -Eighteen years ago he moved to Atlanta to pursue his profession -in a broader field, and immediately made himself -felt as a positive force in the community. The debt which -Atlanta owes him is great indeed. No man did more to -inspire the pride of community, to set on foot and carry to -success great enterprises for the welfare and progress of the -city, to rally its people to an enthusiastic unanimity on all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_555'>555</span>questions affecting local prosperity than did Henry W. -Grady. These public services would have endeared him to -the people of his adopted city, but they were not so admirable -as his private benefactions. He was first and foremost -in many good works, the fame of which never went beyond -the homes of the poor and unfortunate who were relieved -by his ministrations. His hand was open always to the -stricken and needy. He gave to the afflicted with a generosity -which was oblivious to his own circumstances. Of -his influence in promoting public enterprises there are -enduring monuments. By his eloquence of tongue and -pen he raised in less than two weeks $85,000 for the erection -of the beautiful Young Men’s Christian Association -building which now adorns one of the principal streets of -Atlanta. He was the moving spirit in the building of the -Chamber of Commerce and the enlargement of its membership -until it reached proportions that made it a power not -only in matters of business but in all the public concerns -of the city. The Confederate Soldiers’ Home of Georgia is -a monument to him, for he seized mere suggestions and -made them the text of an appeal which stirred the hearts -of the people of Georgia and evoked a long delayed tribute -of gratitude to the broken veterans of the lost cause. The -Cotton Exposition of 1880 and the Piedmont Expositions -of 1887 and 1889, from which Atlanta reaped immense -benefits, were largely due to his persistent labors.</p> - -<p class='c018'>While Mr. Grady became prominent in Atlanta, and -justly esteemed by his fellow-citizens on account of works -and triumphs like these, he rose into national prominence -by reason of other evidences of his genius. His address to -the New England Society in New York in December, 1886, -was one of the most famous occasional speeches ever delivered -in this country. The morning after its delivery he -literally awoke to find himself famous throughout the -country. Since that time he made various public addresses -which commanded the attention of the United States and -became subjects of common conversation among the people. -His speech at the Dallas Exposition last year and his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_556'>556</span>address to the legislatures of Georgia and South Carolina -at the Augusta Exposition a few weeks later, were themes -of the public press of the entire country. But the best -and ablest public speech of his life was his last. It was -that which he delivered two weeks ago at Boston in the -performance of a mission which proved fatal to him. In -this, as in all his famous public addresses, he seemed to -strive with a passionate ardor and a most persuasive eloquence -to bring the North and the South to a better understanding -of each other, to foster the spirit of mutual -respect and mutual forbearance, to inculcate the great -idea that this is a re-united country and that the duty of -every good citizen in its every section is to strive for its -domestic peace, for its moral, social and material progress, -and for its glory among the nations of the earth. He -handled these great themes with a master hand and invested -his exposition of them with a most fascinating eloquence. -Few men in Georgia ever accomplished so much -in so few years. Few men in Georgia were even the object -of such affection at home and such admiration beyond the -bounds of the State. The career which has been so suddenly -cut off was shining with golden promise. The future -seemed to be full of honors and there was everything surrounding -the present that could make life sweet. But the -end has come. The most eloquent tongue in Georgia has -been smitten into everlasting silence in this world. A -great, generous heart has been stilled.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A useful citizen, after a brief but busy and momentous -life, which was productive of many enterprises of public -importance and beneficent tendency, has folded his hands -in the eternal rest. God’s peace be with him!</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_557'>557</span> - <h3 class='c016'>THE GREATEST CALAMITY.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Augusta News.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Can</span> it be possible? Can it be that the brightest star in -the galaxy of our great luminaries is blotted out and -stricken from its orbit just as it was rising in full career -to the zenith of usefulness, influence and splendor? Can -it be that the most brilliant meteor which has flashed -across our sky for a generation has fallen to earth literally -burned to ashes by its own fiery contact with the grosser -air and elements of the natural world? Can it be that the -light has gone out of the most magnetic mind and the -spirit gone from the most resistless personality in this sovereign -State? Can it be that the South has lost the man -who has been first and foremost in representing its real and -progressive needs and issues, and who has done more for -this section than all the young men of his day combined? -Can it be that the kindly heart has ceased to beat which -throbbed in love first for a devoted family, and next and -always for his native State?</p> - -<p class='c018'>Even so, for while still the shadows of the night hung -in mournful pall about his home and dawn lingered as if -loth to look upon the lifeless form of one whom all his -people loved, his spirit soared away to greet the dawning -of an eternal day and the mortal part of Henry Woodfin -Grady lay cold in death.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Dead, did we say? Was ever the coming of Death’s -angel more untimely? So it seems to us, with our poor -mortal vision, but there is an eye above, all-seeing; a -Providence, all-timely; a Power, almighty; and to His -will we bow this day. In His sight the stricken star is not -blotted out but borne aloft to a brighter realm. In His -providence the brilliant meteor of a day is not fallen, but -simply shorn of all its dross and burnished in beauty and -splendor for its flight through all the ages. In His power -the spark which no longer animates the mortal man glows -again in glory and sends a ray of loving light from Heaven -<span class='pageno' id='Page_558'>558</span>to cheer and console the broken hearts on earth, and remind -us that his influence and work are not lost, but will -live and bear blessed fruit for generations yet to come.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry Grady has gone from earth ere yet the dew of -youth has been drunk up by the midday sun of maturity, -but in the brief span of life allotted to him what a world of -work he has done, and what a name he made for himself! -Not two-score years had passed over his head, and yet he -had attained all the substantial success and honor which -mortal man might wish. He was not only loved all over -Georgia, but he was famous all over the country, and no -public occasion of national import was deemed complete -without his presence and his eloquent voice. He was a -magician in his mastery of men, and the witchery of his -voice was enchantment to any audience in any section. -He was coming to be regarded as the representative of the -whole South in the editor’s chair and on the rostrum, and it -is truly said of him that he has done more for the material -advancement of this section than any other man for the -past fifteen years. His death is the greatest calamity -which has befallen the South since the late war, and Israel -may indeed mourn this day as for her first-born.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The name of Henry W. Grady will not be forgotten, for -it will live in the affectionate regard of Georgians and grow -greater in the good results which will follow his life-work. -The fact that he literally died in the service of the South, -as a result of cold contracted just after the impassioned -delivery of his recent grand oration in Boston, will bind his -name and memory nearer and dearer to Southern hearts; -for to warrior or hero was never given a better time or a -nobler way to die than to the man who gave his voice, his -heart, his reputation and his life to healing the wounds of -a fratricidal war, and to the harmonious building up of his -own beloved South as the fairest and richest domain of our -common country.</p> - -<p class='c018'>God bless his name and his memory, and be a strong and -abiding support to his broken-hearted widow and household -this day!</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_559'>559</span> - <h3 class='c016'>NO ORDINARY GRIEF.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Columbus Ledger.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>A great</span> loss has befallen the South in the death of -Henry W. Grady, and deep sorrow rests upon the hearts -of her people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was no ordinary man, and his death calls forth no -ordinary grief. Brilliant in intellect, strong in his convictions, -untiring in his efforts to promote the welfare of his -country, genial, courteous, kind-hearted, ever ready to -help the unfortunate, the loss of such a man cannot be -estimated. When results were to be achieved, when encouragement -was needed, his eloquent tongue, his ready -pen, his helping hand were used with telling effect. His -creed was to build up and not to tear down; to encourage -and not to discourage; to help and not to hurt. His efforts -were ever directed to the promotion of his State and the -South, and no other man has accomplished so much for -them as he. His last effort was for his country and his -people, and the good which will result from his eloquent -speech at Boston, will be a lasting monument. It would -have been impossible for any man to have attained to Mr. -Grady’s position without coming into contact with those -who disagreed with him on many points, but even these -acknowledged his greatness. To read of him was to admire -him; to know him was to love him. In the midst of our -sorrow let us thank God that He lends to earth such men.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A PLACE HARD TO FILL.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Griffin News.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span> died at his home in Atlanta late -Sunday night of pneumonia, contracted during his recent -trip North. His illness was very short and his untimely -<span class='pageno' id='Page_560'>560</span>death is a shock not only to his many friends and admirers, -but to the whole State in which he was so well known, and -will be received with regret outside its borders. He was a -beautiful writer and a brilliant orator, as well as a prominent -factor in the development of Atlanta. He will be -greatly missed in that city, and his place in the <i>Constitution</i>, -of which he was easily the head, will be hard to fill. -Peace to his ashes.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>“JUST HUMAN.”</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Thomasville Enterprise.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Thackeray</span>, the greatest of English novelists, in the -concluding words of Pendennis, says: “I have not -painted a hero, only a man and a brother.” When Henry -W. Grady made his first appearance before the public as a -lecturer, his subject was the words that begin this article—“Just -Human.” This was years ago, when he was only -known to the world as a brilliant young journalist, and -even then his fame for quick perception, incisive utterance -and felicitous manner, was only begun. Later years added -to that fame, and with each year, there seemed to come to -him a wider range of ideas, and a bolder conception of the -most effectual way to put those ideas into burning, glowing -language.</p> - -<p class='c018'>After he had made his memorable speech before the -New England Society in New York, each succeeding one -only raised him higher in public esteem as a matchless, a -magnetic orator, who could wield human hearts as he -would. Through all these speeches, and in all that he ever -wrote, there lingers, like a sweet incense, this thought, -that he recognized that men were “Just Human,” and -entitled to all that charity could offer in extenuation of -their faults.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There is not a heart in all the world that has received -one pang from aught that Henry Grady ever wrote or said; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_561'>561</span>his utterances, whether from the rostrum or through the -columns of his paper, always tended to make the world -better, and his ambition seemed to be to smooth away the -differences that annoy, and the bitternesses that gall. -There is no man in all the country that can take up his -work where he left it.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Where can we find the same impassioned eloquence that -swayed, despite its force, as gently as the summer breezes -that come across fields of ripe grain?</p> - -<p class='c018'>Where can we find the same acute feeling for the sorrows -and sufferings of men and women, “Just Human,” -the same sweet pleading for their extenuation or their -amelioration?</p> - -<p class='c018'>When the epitaph over his grave comes to be written, -no better rendering of the true greatness of the departed -could be made than is contained in the suggestive name of -his first lecture, “Just Human,” for the noble instinct that -taught him to plead so eloquently for the failings of his -fellow men, taught him to enter the Divine presence, asking -for himself that mercy he had asked for others.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>GEORGIA WEEPS.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Union News.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Hon. Henry W. Grady</span>, of the <i>Constitution</i>, died at -his home in Atlanta this morning at 3:40.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This cruel blow shivers every heart with agony, even as -the thunderbolt of heaven rends the mighty monarch of the -forest.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His death is a loss to Georgia. Every man feels it as a -personal bereavement. He has done more for the material -development of the State than any other one man in it. -He was an enthusiast in the cause of education, an upholder -of the church, an advocate of industrial training, a promoter -of every enterprise calculated to benefit Georgia and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_562'>562</span>her people. He was a friend to humanity, true to himself, -to his country and to his God.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The most brilliant light in Southern journalism is veiled -in darkness—a manly heart has ceased to beat; the tongue -that has electrified thousands with magic eloquence is silent -forever; the fingers that wielded the pen of genius and -never traced a line in bitterness or malice, but was always -uplifted in behalf of charity, love and good will, in behalf -of progress, industry and enterprise, in behalf of the South -and her institutions, his State and her people, are cold in -death; the once warm hand of benevolence and fraternal -greeting is chilled forever; a golden life is ended, but his -works live after him, as a priceless heritage to his State, a -boon to his people. The influence of his example pervades -the State as a delightful aroma.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The dispensations of Providence are mysterious. It is -strange fate, past all human understanding, why so excellent -a spirit, a man of so much influence, should be cut -down in the glory of his life, in the richest prime of his -royal manhood.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Only a few days ago he stood in a blaze of glory in a -Northern city and electrified thousands by his matchless -oratory, in the presentation of a question that did the -South great good and justice, and did much to soften the -animosities of the North toward the South, and establish -more fraternal relations between the two sections. But -even while the plaudits of the admiring multitude were -ringing in his ears, and the press of the country was singing -his praises, the fatal hand of disease was laid upon him, -and he was brought back to his own sunny and beloved -Southland to die.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was a popular idol. He was destined to -reap the highest political honors in the State. His name -was being prominently mentioned in connection with the -Governorship and Senatorship of Georgia. Democratic -leaders sought his favor. His influence was felt throughout -the entire State. His support was an omen of success.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Ben Hill died, and his place has never been supplied in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_563'>563</span>Georgia. Mr. Grady approached nearer to it than any -other man. Now Mr. Grady is gone, and his duplicate -cannot be found in the State. No man in recent years could -so attract the eye and fasten the attention of the North. -The death of no other Georgian at this time would have -been so calamitous.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The star was rapidly hastening to the zenith of its -brilliancy and greatest magnitude when suddenly it went -out in darkness, but across the industrial and political -firmament of the country it has left an effulgent track -whose reflection illumines the world.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A GRAND MISSION.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “West Point Press.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>So</span> much has been said about the lamented Grady that -we may not be able to offer anything new. But as we feel -that his untimely death is an irreparable loss we must offer -our heartfelt tribute.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was the most unselfish slave to friends, and to duty. -As an editor he was brilliant and at all times as fearless as -a Spartan; as an orator, age considered, he stood without a -peer within the broad realm of his native land, and although -but in the full vigor of manhood he has left upon record -speeches that compare favorably with the master efforts of -Calhoun and Webster. As a companion he was genial, -jovial and untiring in his efforts to entertain; as a friend -there was no bound to his fidelity.</p> - -<p class='c018'>If you would know the beauty and grandeur of Henry -Grady’s character, go and learn it at the homes of poverty -where he delighted to turn in the light, by his many offices -of love and charity. If you would know the kindness of -his generous heart go to those whom he has lifted from the -vale of poverty and given encouragement to look up. Ask -the army of newsboys for a chapter upon the life of Henry -<span class='pageno' id='Page_564'>564</span>Grady and you will hear words to convince you that a -philanthropist has been called hence. It seemed to us the -other day while in Atlanta, as they said “Paper, sir,” that -there was a sadness in the tone, and that a great sorrow -was upon their hearts. Yes, those newsboys miss Henry -Grady, for he was their friend and protector. Words of -eulogy cannot restore those who cross the dark river; if -they could there has been enough said to recall Henry -Grady to the high position he honored by a life of unselfishness. -His mission, only begun, was a grand one, and -we trust his mantle may fall upon some one who will carry -on his work.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE SOUTH LOVED HIM.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Darien Timber Gazette.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Seldom</span> has the nation’s heart been so saddened as by -the news of Henry W. Grady’s death. Henry W. Grady, -although comparatively young, has conquered this vast -continent—east and west, north and south—and his many -victories have been bloodless. He has truly demonstrated -that the pen is mightier than the sword. An intellect -exceptionally brilliant, an indomitable courage, a judgment -keen, clear and cool, a character unspotted and unassailable—these -are the weapons with which Henry W. Grady -captured the nation.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The South loves him for his unflinching devotion to its -interests; the North admires him for the conservatism -which always characterized his political actions. The -brilliancy of his intellect all admit. We venture to say -that there lives not a man in the United States to-day whose -death would be more sincerely or more universally mourned.</p> - -<p class='c018'>That a career so unusually promising should have been -so suddenly cut off is sad indeed—sad especially for the -South, whose claims he so ably advocated and so successfully -furthured. The severing of the still more tender ties -<span class='pageno' id='Page_565'>565</span>between wife and husband, mother and son, while in the -youth of his glory, adds another gloomy chapter to the -death of Southland’s most patriotic and brilliant son. -Millions will bow their heads in grief with the loving wife -and devoted mother.</p> - -<p class='c018'>We read and re-read the words of Henry W. Grady’s -last speech with a strange fascination. They are like the -last notes of the dying swan and will doubtless have much -more weight under the sad circumstances. He has literally -laid down his life that the colored man might enjoy his in -peace and prosperity.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>NO SADDER NEWS.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Marietta Journal.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>No</span> sadder news ever fell upon the ears of this people -than the announcement that “Henry Grady is dead!” It -staggered our people like a bolt of lightning from a clear -sky.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His death took place at the family residence in Atlanta -at 3:40 o’clock Monday morning, December 22. While on -a visit to Boston, where he delivered the grandest speech -of his life, he took cold, and being ill before he left home, -he was prostrated on his return home, his sickness culminating -in pneumonia and death. He was thirty-eight years -old at the time of his death, and no private citizen at that -age ever attained the renown that Grady had. As an orator -and journalist he was without a peer; gifted above his -fellows to sway men by his pen or his voice, he won the -applause and admiration and love of his countrymen -wherever he came in contact with them. His young life -and genius had been devoted to deeds of kindness, -peace, unity and charity. Selfishness did not enter his -heart, that always beat in response to the woes and sufferings -of his fellow men.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There was a charm and sparkle about his writings that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_566'>566</span>never failed to captivate the senses, please and entertain. -The South lost one of her brightest minds and stanchest -champions in the death of Henry Grady. There is no man -that can take his place in the rare gifts that so befittingly -endowed him in the grand work in which he was engaged. -His loss is an irreparable one. Sorrow and gloom pervade -the hearts of our people over this sad event. We may not -understand how one so superbly gifted, with capacities for -the accomplishment of so much good in the world, is taken, -and many who cumber the earth and are stumbling blocks, -are left, but we know the hand of Providence is behind it -all, and He is too wise to err, too good to be unkind.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Grand and noble Grady, we mourn your death; but we -know a soul so radiant with love for humanity, is now at -rest with the redeemed.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>GEORGIA’S NOBLE SON.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Madison Advertiser.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>In</span> view of the innumerable, heartfelt and touching -memorials to this gifted child of genius, anything that we -might add would be as Hyperion to a Satyr. But moved -by a feeling of profound grief at our’s and the Nation’s -loss, we claim the privilege of giving, as humble members -of the craft, expression to our high regard for the character -of Georgia’s noble son, and mingle a tear with those of -the entire country upon the grave of a great and good -man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In early life he manifested a ripeness and decision of -purpose in selecting a calling for which he conceived he -had an aptitude. Nor was his judgment erroneous, for, -with rare genius, coupled with energy and untiring application, -he soon found a place amongst the first journalists -of the country. How, with his gifted pen, he convinced -the judgment, moved the emotions and sympathies, inspired -<span class='pageno' id='Page_567'>567</span>to lofty resolve and the cultivation of gentle kindness, none -knew better than his constant readers.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Perhaps no character in Georgia, we may say in the -South, was possessed of such varied, versatile talent. Profuse -in rhetorical attainments, gifted in oratory, profound -in thought, facile and versatile as a writer, an encyclopædia -of statistics, he presented a combination amounting -to an anomaly. Coming upon the stage of action at a -period when the crown was torn from our Southland and -she bent beneath the cross, when the gore of his patriot -father, poured out on the fields of Virginia, was still red -before his vision and calling as it were for vengeance, he -remembered the vow of the greatest Captain of the age, -taken at Appomattox, the injunction of our recently -departed Chieftain, and set his noble brain, gifted pen and -silver tongue to the herculean task of extinguishing the -embers of sectional hate; to a recognition of the rights, -and adjustment of the wrongs of his beloved South, and -the rehabilitating of the great American nation, under the -ægis of constitutional equality.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His strong and graceful effusions in the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> -had attracted universal attention, and put men -everywhere to thinking. Blended with so much of genial -kindness and courtesy, while abating nothing of truth or -right, they won commendation, even from unwilling ears. -Nor were they confined to one theme. Every work of -industry, labor, love or charity found in him a potent advocate, -convincing by his logic, and persuading by his gentle, -finished rhetoric. As a journalist, among the craft and -the world of readers, he was recognized as without a superior, -scarcely with a peer.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But burning with a grand, great purpose, he felt with -the inspiration of true greatness, that there was work for -his tongue, as well as pen. With a penetrating judgment, -he felt that the territory of those misguided and -uninformed as to the condition and burdens of his beloved -South must be invaded, and the ear of those who read but -little or nothing of her grievances must be reached. Unexpectedly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_568'>568</span>an opportunity was opened up for him, and he -appeared before a cultivated audience in the great metropolis, -New York.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To say that wonder, admiration and conviction was the -result of his grand effort on that occasion, would be to put -it mildly. Never, since the surrender, have any utterances, -from any source, commanded, up to that time, so much -attention and attracted so much careful and unprejudiced -consideration of the situation of the South. From the -position of an accomplished journalist, he bloomed out -into a grand orator. His name and his grand effort was on -every tongue, and every true Georgian thanked God that a -David had arisen to battle her cause.</p> - -<p class='c018'>So profound was the impression made upon the Northern -mind of the justice, truth and temperance of Mr. -Grady’s position, that he was called to Boston, the cradle -of Phillips, Garrison and all isms, to discuss the race -question. Had his people been admonished of the consequences -to him physically, they would have felt as did -others in reference to the sweet singer of Israel—better ten -thousand perish than he be endangered. Intent upon -what he believed his great mission, he responded. What -that grand effort was is fresh in the minds of all. Its -influence upon this Nation, time alone will disclose.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Grand as was Mr. Grady as a writer, thinker and -orator, his greatness culminated in the bigness of his -heart. He might truthfully be called (as he styled the -late Dawson) “the Golden-hearted man.” His pen, -tongue, hand and purse were ever open to all the calls of -distress or want, and every charitable movement found no -more effective champion than in him. A striking recent -incident is narrated of him illustrative of this his noble -characteristic. Taking two tattered strangers into a store, -he directed the proprietor to furnish each with a suit of -clothes. The proprietor, his close personal friend, remonstrated -with him for his prodigality, saying, “You are -not able to so do.” He replied, “I know it, but are they -not human beings?” Grand man. Surely he has won -<span class='pageno' id='Page_569'>569</span>the crown bestowed upon the peacemaker and the cheerful -giver. Mysterious are the ways of the Great Ruler. -Little did his exulting friends think that he would be so -soon summoned from the field of his glory and usefulness -to the grave. Man proposes, God disposes, and Grady -sleeps the long sleep, but “tho’ dead he yet speaketh.” -Alone, aided by none save perhaps the gifted, battle-scarred, -faithful Gordon, he gave up his life to enforcing -the obligation of Lee, the injunctions of the lamented -Davis. With a brave spirit and a heart of love, he would -speak words of forgiveness to his wrong-doers, if any, -while others less tolerant might say to them, “An eagle in -his towering flight was hawked at by a mousing owl.” -But with indorsement from such as Cleveland, Hill, Campbell -and a host of others, he needs no apology from us. -Peacefully he has crossed over the river, and under the -perennial shade of the leal land he sits with Davis and -Lee and receives their plaudits for his faithful, patriotic -efforts.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE DEATH OF HENRY GRADY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Hawkinsville Dispatch.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span> died at his home in Atlanta, at 3:40 -o’clock, on the morning of the 23d ult.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This announcement has already been flashed all over -the United States, and has carried genuine sorrow throughout -Georgia and many places beyond. The fame and the -popularity of this brilliant young orator and writer were -not confined to this State, but were almost co-extensive -with the limits of the Union.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady was in Boston a week or two before his death -to make an address, by invitation of the Merchants’ Club -of that city. The address was on “The Negro Problem,” -and it attracted attention throughout the United States. -He was not well when he left Atlanta, and his departure -<span class='pageno' id='Page_570'>570</span>was contrary to the advice of his physician. Immediately -after the address, he went to New York, and while there -he had to take his bed. He was compelled to decline all -the honors tendered him, and hastened home. The citizens -of Atlanta had arranged a complimentary reception for his -return, but he was taken from the car into a carriage and -carried to his home. He never left that home until he was -carried out in his coffin.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His funeral took place on Wednesday of last week. It -was probably the largest that has ever been seen in Atlanta, -for Mr. Grady was nearer and dearer to the popular heart -than any other man. The body was carried to the First -Methodist church, where it lay in state several hours. -Thousands of people passed through the church and took -a last look at the face which was so familiar to all Atlanta. -The church was profusely and beautifully decorated.</p> - -<p class='c018'>At two in the afternoon the funeral took place. There -was no sermon, but the services consisted of prayers, reading -selections from the Bible by several ministers, and -songs. “Shall we gather at the river?” was sung as the -favorite hymn of the deceased. At the close of the services, -the remains were placed in a vault in Oakland Cemetery.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Henry Grady was a remarkable man. He was not quite -thirty-nine years of age, had never held an official position, -and yet his wonderful talent had won for him a national -reputation. It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that, as -an attractive writer and speaker, he had not an equal in the -United States. Certainly he had no superior. He spoke -as well as he wrote, and every utterance of his tongue or -production of his pen was received with eagerness. There -was an indescribable charm about what he said and wrote, -that is possessed by no other person within our knowledge.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He began writing for the press when about eighteen, and -at once made a reputation throughout the State. That -reputation steadily grew until he could command an audience -that would crowd any hall in the United States.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is impossible to estimate the good he has done. At -one time he would use his wonderful eloquence to urge the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_571'>571</span>farmers of Georgia to seek prosperity by raising their own -supplies. At another time, he would rally the people of -Atlanta to help the poor of the city who were suffering -from the severity of the winter weather. Then he would -plead—and never in vain—for harmony among the distracted -factions of his loved city, who were fighting each -other in some municipal contest. Still again, he would -incite his people to grand achievements in material prosperity; -and who can measure the value which his influence -has been to Atlanta in this particular alone? He often -said to his people “Pin your eternal faith to these old red -hills”; and he set the example.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But his work was not confined to the narrow limits of -his city and State. He was in demand in other places, and -wherever he went he captured the hearts of the people. -His speeches and his writings were all philanthropic. All -his efforts were for the betterment of his fellows. In the -South he urged the moral and material advancement. In -the North he plead, as no other man has plead, for justice -to the South and for a proper recognition of the rights of -our people. The South has had advocates as earnest, but -never one as eloquent and effective.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the prohibition contest in Atlanta two years ago, Mr. -Grady threw his whole soul into the canvass for the exclusion -of bar-rooms. With his matchless eloquence he -depicted the evils of the liquor traffic and the blessedness -of exemption from it. If reason had prevailed, his efforts -would not have been in vain; but unfortunately the balance -of power was held by the ignorant and the vicious—by -those on whom eloquence and argument could have no -effect; and he lost.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But his life-work is ended, except so far as the influence -of good works lives after the worker dies. He has done -much good for his State and for the entire country; and -there is no man whose death would be more lamented by -the people of Georgia.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_572'>572</span> - <h3 class='c016'>A MEASURELESS SORROW.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Lagrange Reporter.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Atlanta</span> buried yesterday her greatest citizen, and -Georgia mourns the death of her most brilliant son. Not -only Atlanta and Georgia bewail an irreparable loss, but -the whole South joins in the lamentation, while beyond her -boundaries the great North, so lately thrilled by his eloquence, -stands with uncovered head at Grady’s tomb.</p> - -<p class='c018'>O measureless sorrow! A young man, with unequaled -genius and great, loving heart, has been cut off in his golden -promise. The South saw in him her spokesman—her representative -to the world. The old and the new were -happily blended in him. Revering the past, his face was -turned to the rising day. As the stars went out, one by -one, he greeted the dawn of a grander era, which he was -largely instrumental in hastening. His work for Georgia, -the South, the country, will abide. Time will only increase -his fame.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A journalist without a peer, an orator unsurpassed, a -statesman with grasp of thought to “know what Israel -ought to do,” has fallen. Words are impotent to express -the public grief.</p> - -<p class='c018'>God reigns. Let us bow to His will and trust Him for -help. Our extremity is His opportunity. If leader is -necessary to perfect the work, He will give us one qualified -in all respects. Like Moses, the South’s young champion -had sighted the promised land and pointed out its beauties -and glories to his wondering people. Let us boldly pass -over the Jordan that lies between.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Rest, noble knight. Dream of battle-fields no more—days -of toil, nights of danger. Thy country will take care -of thy fame.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_573'>573</span> - <h3 class='c016'>GRADY’S DEATH.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Oglethorpe Echo.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Together</span> with the sorrow of the thousands who loved -Henry Grady that he should be taken from among them, -comes the lament of the Nation that one so gifted and capable -of so much good should be cut down just as he was -fairly upon the threshold of his useful career. Viewing -the surroundings from a human standpoint, it would seem -that his end was indeed untimely and a calamity to the -whole Nation.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Our own Colquitt and Gordon have won greatly the -respect of the Northern people, but they nor any Southern -man had as implicitly their confidence. Whatever Grady -said or wrote, on no matter what subject, our friends -across Mason and Dixon’s line accepted as utterly true and -not to be questioned. They respected also his ability more -than they did any other man of this section, and were more -inclined to take his counsel and be governed by his advice -and admonition.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This distinction Grady had honestly won, and by having -it he was doing more than any ten men to obliterate -sectional prejudices. His last great speech, delivered only -a few days before his death, was on this line, and its good -effects will be felt the country over, though he has been -taken before he could see them. In that speech he disabused -the minds of his hearers of many erroneous ideas of -the relations of the races in the South. He did it by stating -plainly and unhesitatingly facts and giving a true picture of -the situation without varnish. He had the gift of doing this -in such a way as to command the respect of both sides of -whatever question he might be discussing. Just such speakers -and just such speeches is what is now needed to bring -the two sections together; to obliterate sectional prejudices; -make the entire Nation one people in purpose and sentiment. -But have we any more Gradys to make them? Perhaps -<span class='pageno' id='Page_574'>574</span>so, but they are in the background and time must elapse -before they can reach his place. We need them in the -front and on the platform now. Grady was already there, -and was doing perhaps, as no other man will ever do, what -is urgently needed to make the Nation more harmonious, -more peaceful and more prosperous; and while we must -bow in humble submission to the will of the Higher Power -which saw fit to end his career, we can but lament the evident -loss the people of the South especially, and the whole -Nation, sustains.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HE LOVED HIS COUNTRY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Cuthbert Liberal.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>In</span> the death of Henry W. Grady, Georgia loses one of -her most gifted sons. Though but a young man he had -already acquired a name that will live as long as Americans -love liberty or humanity loves charity. Though in point -of years but just above the horizon of fame’s vast empyrean, -his sun shone with the splendor and brilliancy usually -reached at the zenith. As journalist, he was without a peer -in his own loved Southland. As orator, none since the -death of the gifted Prentiss had, at his age, won such -renown. He loved Georgia, he loved the South, but his -big heart and soul encompassed his whole country. As -patriot, his widespread arms took in at one embrace the -denizens upon the borders of the frozen lakes and the -dwellers among the orange groves that girt the Mexic sea. -He gave his life away in a masterful effort to revive peace -and good will between sections estranged by passion and -prejudice, and races made envious of each other by selfish -intermeddling of those who would perpetuate strife to -gratify their own greed. As neighbor and friend, those -who knew him best loved him most. Wherever suffering -or poverty pinched humanity, there his heart beat in sympathy -and there his hand dispensed charity’s offerings -<span class='pageno' id='Page_575'>575</span>without stint. Though we have differed with him in many -things, the grave now holds all our differences and our tears -blot out the bitterness of words or thoughts of the past. -May the God in whom he trusted dispense grace, mercy -and peace to the widow and orphans, whose grief and sorrow -none but they can know.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A RESPLENDENT RECORD.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Madison Madisonian.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>It</span> is almost impossible to realize that Henry Grady is -dead; that the eager, restless hands are stilled, and the -great heart pulseless forevermore. The soul turned sick -at the tidings, and a wave of anguish choked all utterance -save lamentation alone. His people mourn his passing -with one mighty voice, and like Rachel weeping in the -wilderness, refuse to be comforted.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It seems a grief too heavy to be borne, and as lasting as -the everlasting hills; but when time shall have laid its -soothing hand upon our woe, there will succeed a sensation -of exultance and exaltation, the natural consequence of a -contemplation and appreciation of the briefness and brilliancy -of his course, and the proportions and perfection of -his handiwork.</p> - -<p class='c018'>To few men has it been given to live as Grady lived; to -still less to die as Grady died, in the flush flood-tide of -achievement, laying down sword and buckler, the victory -won, and bowing farewell while yet the thunder-gust of -plaudits shook the arena like a storm. He flamed like a -meteor athwart the night and vanished in focal mid-zenith, -leaving the illimitable void unstarred by an equal, whose -rippling radiance, flashing in splendor from its myriad -facets, might gladden our sublimated vision.</p> - -<p class='c018'>And what of good he accomplished, all his claim to -renown, and the sole and simple cause of endearing him to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_576'>576</span>mankind, rested upon one trait alone, one Christ-like attribute -and actuating motive. He held but one creed and -preached but one gospel—the gospel of love. “Little -children, love one another,” said, now nearly a score of -centuries since, the carpenter of Nazareth, and with this -text—this first and greatest and most divine of all the -commandments—for a wizard’s wand, our modern Merlin -unlocked hearts and insured the hearty clasping of palms -from one end to the other of this broad land.</p> - -<p class='c018'>What more resplendent record could man attain? -What prouder fame be shouted down the ages?</p> - -<p class='c018'>His epitaph is written in the hearts of his people. His -memory is enshrined in the love of a nation.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Let us leave him to repose.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>DEDICATED TO HUMANITY.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Sandersville Herald and Georgian.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> usual joyous season of Christmas tide has been -saddened by funeral dirges over the loss of Georgia’s gifted -son. Since the death of the eloquent and lamented Ben -Hill, the loss of no man has aroused deeper sorrow than -Henry W. Grady. Greater demonstrations of grief with -all the emblems of mourning were perhaps never before -exhibited in Georgia. Memorial services were held not -only in Atlanta, the city of his home, but throughout the -State, voicing the great love of the people and their deep -sense of the magnitude of his loss. More touching, beautiful -eulogies and panegyrics have perhaps never been pronounced -over the bier of any man.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The intensity of the admiration for Henry Grady grew -out of the fact that his grand powers were all dedicated to -the interests of humanity. His magic pen, that charmed -while it instructed, that delighted while it moved, was laid -under contribution to the good of his fellows. Eager for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_577'>577</span>the development of his State and her resources, he traversed -the lowlands of the South, and depicted her vast -possibilities in the cultivation of fruits, melons, etc., that -have added so much to her material wealth. Turning to -the rock-ribbed mountains and hills of North Georgia he -pointed out the vast treasures of iron ore, marble and coal, -but waiting the hand of industry. In all sections he portrayed -their resources, their fields for manufacturers, the -importance and value of increased railroad transportation—in -fact, leaving nothing undone that seemed to promise -good and prosperity to his people.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The sunny heart which he always carried into his labors -was his chief charm. The playful yet ardent spirit which -he always had he seemed happily to be able to impart to -others. Indeed, he seemed to be a gatherer of sunbeams, -his blithe spirit seemed to sing,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Let us gather up the sunbeams</div> - <div class='line in2'>Lying all around our path,</div> - <div class='line'>Let us keep the wheat and roses,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Casting out the thorns and chaff.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c024'>The sweet, pacific tone of his mind gave him a wonderful -influence over the masses. More than once when disturbing -questions were agitating the city, and party and personal -feeling ran high, has he by his conciliatory spirit and -harmless pleasantry quelled the boisterous multitude. -This spirit was ever fruitful of methods and concessions by -which all could harmonize. It was the cropping out of -these broad, liberal views in the fields of national patriotism -that arrested the attention of other sections of the -Union, and gave rise to calls for Grady to address the -people at the meeting of the Historical Society in New -York over two years ago. The eloquent utterances of the -young orator, as he painted the Confederate soldier returning -from the war, ragged, shoeless and penniless, fired the -Northern heart with a sympathy for the South it had -never known before.</p> - -<p class='c018'>From this time his fame as an orator was established, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_578'>578</span>and he was at once ranked among the greatest living -orators of the day.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Thoughtful men of the North, recognizing the race problem -as one of the coming momentous issues of the future, -were eager to hear the broad views and patriotic suggestions -of this great pacificator. An invitation was there -extended by the Merchants’ Association of Boston to -address them at Faneuil Hall. The address seemed to call -forth all his capacious powers, and is styled the crowning -masterpiece of his life. As he graphically sketched the -happy results of the sun shining upon a land with all -differences harmonized, with all aspirations purified by -the limpid fount of patriotism, he sketched a panorama of -loveliness and beauty and promise that enraptured his -hearers. And as the notes of the dying swan thrill with -new melody, so the last utterances of the dying statesman -will have now a new charm for those who loved him.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>THE SOUTH LAMENTS.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Middle Georgia Progress.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>One</span> week ago yesterday morning woe folded her dark -and gloomy pinions and settled over our fair and sunny -Southland! He, who by his love for us, by his incessant -labor for the advancement of our material progress, whose -voice was raised to dispel the shadows of hate and prejudice, -and bring the North and South into a closer union, -whose heart was filled with charity, and whose hands were -ever performing deeds of kindness, the eloquent and gifted -Grady—the knightly and chivalrous leader of the peaceful -hosts of the New South—was called to a brighter home in -the skies, where all is peace and joy and supernal bliss. -The whole South laments his death “and may his soul rest -in peace” is the sentiment of every heart. His virtues are -sung in sweetest song, and his worth proclaimed by lips -<span class='pageno' id='Page_579'>579</span>tremulous with emotion. Young in years, but matured in -wisdom, he grappled the great question that affected his -people, and with matchless eloquence presented their cause -on New England soil and told of their loyalty and love, still -cherishing and remembering the traditions of the past. -His death everywhere is recognized as a national calamity. -Every public utterance and every public appearance, -whether in New York, Boston, Texas or on his native soil, -amid “the red old hills of Georgia,” has been greeted with -applause and demonstrations of delight. Made fatherless -in youth by the cruel ravage of war, he struck out with a -stout heart and strong hands for success—how well he -achieved it, the praises showered upon him from every -quarter forcibly demonstrate the fact! Who has not felt -the warmth of his sunny nature?—it glows in every stroke -of his pen, and shines in all his eloquent utterances, and -brightens his memory as his name and triumphs pass into -history. Mr. Grady, by his pen and eloquence, has done -more for the South than any other of her sons, and their -love and appreciation is attested in their universal sorrow. -His gifts were rare, his eloquence wonderful, and he bore -in honor and peace the standard of his people, and they -will ever keep his memory fresh and green.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HIS CAREER.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Dalton Citizen.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Only</span> a few short weeks ago Hon. Henry W. Grady left -his Atlanta home to electrify a critical audience in Boston, -Mass., with one of his inimitable speeches. Through all -the papers of the country the fame of this magnificent -address went ringing, and ere the speech itself was printed, -in full, the orator from whose lips it fell was stricken with a -fatal disease on his return homeward. In little more than a -week his life’s sands had run their course, and in the flush -<span class='pageno' id='Page_580'>580</span>of a glorious and useful manhood Henry Grady lay dead, -while his eulogies were on the lips of the whole nation. -There has been much written by friends (he had no foes) in -the newspaper world concerning this great loss; but it is -all summed up in the words, “Henry Grady is dead!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Somewhere, in an English poet’s writings, we find a -pregnant little sentence: “I stood beside the grave of one -who blazed the comet of a season.” The career of Henry -Grady has been likened by several speakers and writers to -a star burning brightly in the national and journalistic sky, -but its light quenched in the darkness of death ere it -reached its zenith. Fittest, it seems to us, is the simile -quoted previously. A comet trailing its brilliant light -across the darkening heavens, a spectacle focussing the -gaze of millions of eyes, causing other stars to sink into -insignificance by reason of its greater glow and grandeur.—Then, -while the interest concerning its movements has -reached its intensity, its gleaming light fades, and presently -the sky is merely glittering again with the myriad stars, for -the flash and the blaze of the comet have disappeared forever -and it is invisible to mortal eyes. The question is, -will another take its place, and when?—We think not soon. -Even should an orator, whose eloquence might sway multitudes, -rise to reign in the dead hero’s stead, it is more than -probable that he would not combine with his oratory the -wonderful statistical knowledge possessed by Mr. Grady, -whose solid reasoning was only exceeded by the winsome -touch, creeping in here and there, of the true artistic nature. -He spoke in his last address of the South’s vast resources—of -its “cotton whitening by night beneath the stars, and by -day the wheat locking the sunshine in its bearded sheaf.” -A practical argument at one turn and a beautifully rounded -sentence at another.</p> - -<p class='c018'>These things made up the speeches that held so many in -breathless attention, augmented by his magnetic personality. -It would be well for our Southland could another as -gifted shine forth in like splendor.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_581'>581</span> - <h3 class='c016'>OUR FALLEN HERO.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Hartwell Sun.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>We</span> little thought in our last issue for the old year, -when we penned a brief paragraph to the effect that Mr. -Grady had returned from his brilliant triumph in Boston -to his home in Atlanta sick with a cold, that in a few hours -afterward his grand spirit should have winged its flight to -the home beyond, and that upon the Christmas day, when -the glad bells should ring out their joyous message of -“Peace on earth—good will to men” in the great city so -much of his own making, that instead they should toll the -sad requiem of “Dust to dust,” and that every heart from -the ragged newsboy to the chief magistrate should be -bursting with anguish as the noble form of their idolized -leader was consigned to the cold, silent grave.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The blow came so suddenly and was so totally unexpected, -that it spread consternation—not only in his own -beloved State and Southland—but over the entire country. -Was there ever a man so universally loved with so brief a -career! Was there ever a man so sincerely and widely -mourned! Was there ever a man so grandly, so eloquently -eulogized! Never have we seen anything like it—never -have we heard of anything like it; nor do we believe there -was ever a parallel.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But all the panegyrics by passionate lips uttered, nor all -the burning words of eulogy by eloquent pens written, have -yet expressed the tremendous weight of sorrow that -oppresses the hearts of the people who loved him so well. -This was indeed a time when strong men of mighty mind -and fluent tongue felt the utter poverty of expression and -the inadequacy of words.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It did appear as if he was just entering upon his glorious -career,—as if his life’s work yet lay out before him. And -yet what a glorious, what a grand work he had done! And -may not his death have emphasized his glowing appeals for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_582'>582</span>a broader charity; for an unquestioning confidence; for -fraternal love and justice; for a re-united country. In our -very heart we believe so. If not—God help our country!</p> - -<p class='c018'>We will not attempt to eulogize Henry Grady—to speak -of his brilliant intellect; of his matchless eloquence; of -his spotless character; of his great, warm, unselfish heart—that -has already been done by those better fitted for the -loving task; but the hot tears blind our eyes as we think -of the handsome, boyish form of the peerless Grady lying -cold in the remorseless embrace of death. Peace be to his -precious ashes!—Eternal joy to his immortal spirit!</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A DEATHLESS NAME.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Gainesville Eagle.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'>There was buried in Atlanta yesterday a young man -that illustrated the possibilities of American youth.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There are two forces that combine to make great men—heredity -and environment. The first had given Henry -Grady magnificent natural endowment—a kingly and masterful -mind. The second gave him opportunity, and he -utilized it for all it was worth. Combined, they have -given him a deathless name and fame that will make one -of the brightest pages in the Southland’s history.</p> - -<p class='c018'>All over the land, men and women, who loved his -sweetness of soul, grieve to-day over his untimely end. -All over the South, men who expected much of his tongue -and pen, mourn sincerely the loss of the brilliant mind -which worshiped so loyally at Patriotism’s altar. How -illy could he be spared. How inscrutable the ways of -Providence! We can but bow and grieve.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But what an inspiration the history of his brief years! -Poor and unknown a few years ago, he died in a halo of -glory that had made his name a household word over a -continent. His life was a psalm of praise. Like the birds, -he sang because he must. Eloquence dwelt in his tongue -<span class='pageno' id='Page_583'>583</span>like the perfume in the heart of the flowers; sweetness -flowed from his pen as the honey comes from the mysterious -alchemy of the bee—it was his nature.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This is not the time or place to analyze or measure his -life-work. History and the future must render that verdict. -Frankly, we are not of those who believe that his -speeches—eloquent and grand as they were—will wipe out -sectional feeling. The people who hate and fear the South -are given over to believe a lie. It is their stock in trade; -it is the life blood of their political partisanship, and -though one rose from the dead, they would not believe. -But he had done and was doing, and had he lived would -have brought to a marvelous fruition something of far -more practical value. He had made known to the world -the marvelous resources of the South, and gotten the ear -of capital and enterprise and brought, and was bringing, -the enginery of its power to unlock the storehouses of an -untold wealth. ’Tis here his grandest work was done. -Call it selfish, if you will, but ’tis here our loss is greatest.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His brilliancy, dash and originality had made the great -journal, of which he was the head, easily the foremost -newspaper of the South. His eloquent tongue and matchless -pen had made him par excellence the exemplar and -apostle of this grand and growing section.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But the end has come. Only He who has smitten can -know whether such another prophet shall rise in the wilderness -to lead us forward to the glorious destiny which -his prophetic eye foresaw, and to which his throbbing, -loyal heart gave itself and died.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>A GREAT SOUL.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Baxley Banner.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>A great</span> soul has passed away.</p> - -<p class='c018'>After a life brief but brilliant, he is lost to the country -that loved and honored him, and which his lofty eloquence -and pure patriotism have illustrated and adorned.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_584'>584</span>As the lightning that comes out of the South, and -flashes from horizon to horizon, so was his short life in its -bright, swift passage, illuminating the earth.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In the death of Henry Grady, his city, his State, the -South, the whole country has suffered a great loss. His -voice was ever the ringing, stirring herald-tones that announced -the promise of fairer days and a happier people. -He was no low-browed, latter-day prophet of evil; but -preached here and everywhere the new and bright evangel -of hope. He was the voice of his city, heard ringing -through Georgia and the Union; the voice of his State, -heard clarion-like from ocean to ocean, and the golden-mouthed -messenger from the South to the North, proclaiming -a brotherhood of love that the shock of war had not -destroyed. And thus his death will be mourned, not in -Atlanta or in Georgia only, but wherever an American -heart is, that heart will mourn his death.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Particularly is Mr. Grady’s death a loss to journalism. -He stood the peer of any in the world, and was the greatest -journalist in the South. His pen was as eloquent as his -tongue, and from the closet as well as from the platform -his words came with vivifying power, refreshing and inspiring.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Death struck him down from the lofty pinnacle of fame, -to which his eloquence had so swiftly upborne him. A -young man, he had already reached a height that would -have dazzled a weaker soul, and he has fallen in the midst -of his triumph, while yet the plaudits of tens of thousands -from every part of this country rang fainter and fainter on -his dying ear. It was something worth to have such heartfelt -approbations sounding around him as he sunk to his -last sleep. It was the crowning of a life well lived, and -spent with lavish patriotism for his country’s weal.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He burned his life to the socket like a swift devouring -flame. His energy was tremendous, and almost feverish -in its eagerness to do something worth the doing. He -returned to his city and his home with death upon him, -stricken even in his great triumph. The glow of fever followed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_585'>585</span>hard upon the glow of victory, and so, after a brief -and burning life—a life crowded thick with triumphs, -“God’s finger touched him and he slept”—the sleep He -giveth to His beloved.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Of his private life all may speak. We know it well. -It is familiar to us all as household words, though his -charity and his kindness were without ostentation. He -was generous without stint, and whether it was as the boy -making up a fund to buy a poor schoolmate a handsome -suit to graduate in, or as the man lending a helping hand -to lift or guide the needy, self was forgotten in his kindness -to others. In thousands of homes he will be</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Named softly as the household name</div> - <div class='line'>Of one whom God has taken.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c024'>His city, his State, and his country will build for him a -shaft, but his greatest monument will be in the hearts that -mourn his death.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A great and loving soul has passed.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>IN MEMORIAM.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Henry County Times.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> public heart, still quivering and aching from the -shock occasioned by the death of its venerated and talented -leader, Jefferson Davis, had its cup of woe and grief filled -to overflowing by those words of doom—“Henry Grady is -dead.” In the natural course of events, the first catastrophe -was one that might have happened any time in the -past ten years, as the great Confederate chief had long since -passed the limit of three-score-and-ten, the average limit -attached by Biblical authority to human life. Mr. Davis -descended to his grave full of years and honors, and while -he was universally and sincerely mourned in the South, -still, it did not fall upon us with that electric suddenness -<span class='pageno' id='Page_586'>586</span>which so shocked and agonized the Southern heart as -when our young Demosthenes became a victim to the fell -destroyer.</p> - -<p class='c018'>So universal is this sorrow, that a separate and personal -bereavement could not have more completely shrouded in -grief the public mind than did the announcement of his -death. The advent of the dark angel into each and every -household could not have more completely paralyzed the -public mind than did the untimely taking off of this -superbly gifted son of Georgia. Never since the angel of -the Lord smote the first-born of Egyptian households for -lack of mystic symbols on the door, has a people’s sorrow -been so deep, so universal, and so sincere. Had the end of -such a man come in the proper course of nature, heralded -by such physical changes as indicate the approach of death, -it might have been better borne, but would still have been an -event of national misfortune that would have taxed to the -uttermost the endurance of hearts already lacerated by -freshly opened wounds. Had we been in the possession of -such warnings as it was in the power of Omnipotence to -have granted us, still the blow would have been unutterably -painful and overpowering. But that he, who was conceded -to be the intellectual peer of any in the nation; who was -without a superior as an orator in the present generation; -that he who was in an especial manner fitted to be the -champion of the South in her appeal for justice at the bar -of public opinion, both in Europe and America; that he, -who was so richly endowed should suddenly and without -warning, as it were, become the victim of death, and have -all the bright and brilliant promise of a life whose sun had -risen so gloriously, quenched in death and darkness, might -well move a people to tears, and clothe a nation in sackcloth -and ashes.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_587'>587</span> - <h3 class='c016'>A PEOPLE MOURN.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Warrenton Clipper.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> people of the Southland are wrapped in grief and a -nation mourns in sympathy. While all nature beams with -beauteous smiles and December luxuriates in the balmy -breezes of spring, he whom we had learned to love and to -whom his people turned for hope and encouragement, lies -wrapped in earth’s cold embrace. Henry W. Grady is -dead. Early Monday morning his brave spirit forsook its -earthly tenement and sought Him who had given it being. -The electric words which flashed the sad news through the -length and breadth of the country carried mourning into -thousands of homes and millions of hearts. The friend of -the people was dead, and one universal sense of sorrow pervaded -the minds of all.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady had just returned from Boston, where he -had delivered one of the grandest addresses of his life, -before the Boston Merchants’ Association, upon the Southern -question. The speech was thoroughly Southern in its -character, and a grand defense of the course of his people -in national politics and their dealings with the colored race. -Exposure in the raw New England atmosphere caused him -to contract a severe cold which rapidly grew worse. He -was very ill when he returned to Atlanta and pneumonia -in its worst form soon developed. He lay ill at his beautiful -home in Atlanta for a few days only, gradually growing -worse, until the end came Monday morning.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Though his dangerous situation was known, the probability -of his death did not seem to occur to the people. -That the youthful, magnetic, beloved Grady could die -seemed impossible. When the blow had fallen its effect -was to stun, and had we been told that it was a dream, a -mistake, we would really have believed it and sought out -some new evidence of his popularity. Dead! Is it possible! -Before he had reached the prime of his manhood or -<span class='pageno' id='Page_588'>588</span>the zenith of his fame! Did Death but waylay to seize -him just as we were learning his worth? Of the many -mysteries of life death is the greatest.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Nothing shows more the high estimation in which the -man was held than the widespread sources from which -came the words of sympathy and condolence; from field -and fireside, from town and hamlet, from city street and -mansion, from every source in which his noble words have -found an echo, poured forth the gentle words of sympathy -and sorrow. Statesmen and soldiers hastened to proffer -their sympathy and great men of every rank condoled with -the bereaved ones. Not a prominent Northern journal -but devoted considerable space to his memory. Party and -creed were alike forgotten. Not a whisper of depreciation -was heard from any source.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There never died a man within the history of the State -whose fame was so recent, who was so generally loved and -admired in life and so universally regretted in death. On -Christmas, the day of joy and peace, we laid our hero to -rest. Not the less a hero because his were the victories of -peace. No victor, fresh from the bloody field of battle, -was ever more deserving of his laurel wreaths than he of -the chaplets we can only lay upon his grave. The lips -that pleaded so eloquently for peace and union are stilled -in death, and the hand that penned so many beautiful -words for the encouragement of his people moves no more. -A sense of peculiar personal loss is upon us. The old men -have lost a son, the young men a brother. Atlanta mourns -her foremost citizen, the State a devoted son, the South an -able defender and the Nation an honored citizen. Our -matchless Grady is no more.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_589'>589</span> - <h3 class='c016'>HENRY W. GRADY IS NO MORE.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Valdosta Times.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span> is dead. His great soul has passed -from this mundane sphere. Truly “a silver tongue is -hushed and a golden pen is broken.” Matchless orator, -brilliant journalist, able statesman, patriotic citizen, noble -man—shall we see your like again!</p> - -<p class='c018'>When Stonewall Jackson fell fighting for the land he -loved, the Confederacy lost her great right arm, and never -recovered from the blow. So, in these post-bellum days—in -times of comparative peace—but under anomalous and -trying conditions—the South loses her ablest leader, and at -a time when his services seem most needed, and when he -was doing that service so nobly and well. The death of -Mr. Grady in ’89 compares only, in the Southern estimate, -with the loss of Jackson in ’63. Viewed from the natural -side of human wisdom, his death, in the words of the great -Republican orator of New York, is a national calamity.</p> - -<p class='c018'>This young man, from obscurity and poverty, by the -sheer force of his genius, sprang easily and early to a -national celebrity which few dare hope for, and fewer still -attain in the generations of men. He was both brilliant -and practical, both gentle and wise. He would build a -factory or a railroad, or found a great exposition, as easily -as he would deliver a bright oration. He would counsel -with statesmen with the same tact and ease that he would -go gunning with the young men of the town. When he -touched a man he made a friend.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The writer, who would pay this short and poor tribute, -knew him for eighteen years. He has seen him from many -points of view—mostly as an opponent in State politics, -but always as a friend. In his office at work—at his private -board—in the political caucus—on an angling or gunning -expedition—his transcendent genius always shown -with a rare and radiant light. To these who have known -<span class='pageno' id='Page_590'>590</span>him well he has long been the man the world has recently -found him to be—one of the greatest men of his time; to -such his loss is felt as a personal bereavement. Each one, -when his name is heard, will recall some word or deed to -cherish as a fragrance from the tomb. Such memories will -be treasured in the hearts of many, from Grover Cleveland -to the saucy newsboys who cry the <i>Constitution</i> on the -streets of Atlanta.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But to abler pens, and to those who have known him -longer and better, the task is left to pronounce a fitting -eulogy.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Of his life and his death, much space is ungrudgingly -given elsewhere in this issue of the <i>Times</i>. Let the young -men of the country read, and learn of him who has passed -away at thirty-eight years of age and left the impress of -his genius upon the greatest Nation of the earth.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>“MAYBE HIS WORK IS FINISHED.”</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Dalton Argus.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry Woodfin Grady</span> died Monday morning, December -23, 1889, from bronchial and other troubles, irritated by -his recent visit to Boston, where he made his last and -greatest speech in behalf of the section and people he loved -so well.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Since England lost her Wellington, and America her -Lincoln, no greater calamity has moved a people to sympathetic -tears than the death of Henry Grady. His life was -the fulfillment of a noble man, and his grand impulses -touched every phase of humanity. No man was ever better -known to his country by an unbroken chain of rarer virtues, -nobler purposes, and more powerful capacities. His work, -in whatever field, was the impetuosity of patriotism. His -successes stand as a mark of indomitable energy. Possessing -an extraordinary faculty of grasping opportunities at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_591'>591</span>the full flood tide, he illustrated the perfect patriot in forgetting -self for common good, the genuine friend in bestowing -his own advantages to others. Only he that worthily -lives, in death enshrines himself in the hearts of his people, -and not a wire in all the network of commercial arteries -but that has given, in messages of love, cadences of a country’s -sorrow. When poets and patriots are met at the bier -by the hushed voices of the rabble, and commerce pauses -to pay tribute, Heaven-blest must be the spirit that gives -flight from earth. In all the walks of life Henry Grady -has left remembrances that suggest homage to his worth.</p> - -<p class='c018'>But his name shall occupy a space in history, filling the -brightest niche of an illustrious age, that his life shall stand -out boldly in the perfect beauty of its accomplishment.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There is a touching coincidence in his death, following -so closely after that of Jefferson Davis, that the funeral -dirge of one almost blends into the decadence of the other, -giving figure to an illustration as true as it is sublime.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Who can refute the suggestion that it was a wise decree -of Providence, staying the relentless demands of Time that -sectional prejudice might lose its forceful resentment, lending -ear to the vigorous mind of Davis, through the very -nobility of his after life; and giving communion of perfect -sympathy through the pleading of Henry Grady, caught -up as if from the living embers of the old, a fair type of -that historic period, imbued with all the demands of the -present, his patriotic ardor glowing with fire of eloquence, -his dying speech giving tumult of enthusiasm in voice of -advocacy, expounding reason indorsed by every Southern -man?</p> - -<p class='c018'>No man better knew the temper of his people, or gave -thought with riper philosophy to the issues which surround -them; or was less fearless to speak the truth.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As a common country gave applause to the logic of the -living, may we not trust in the prophecy of the mourning -mother, that the work for which he gave his life, in unmurmuring -sacrifice, is truly accomplished?</p> - -<p class='c018'>There is such pathos in the incident of this last grand -<span class='pageno' id='Page_592'>592</span>effort to break the cordons of estrangement between the -sections as may justify the hope.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The South, undemonstrative, unprejudiced, unyielding -furthermore, pleads for no fairer basis.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HE NEVER OFFENDED.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Washington Chronicle.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>He</span> died peacefully at his home in Atlanta on Monday -morning at forty minutes past three o’clock. As the news -flashed over the wires it imparted a thrill of anguish to -every Southern heart. For he was a great favorite at the -South. And at the North he had cause to be proud of his -reputation. It would be impossible to compare Mr. Grady -with any man who has lived. His character was unique -and so was his work. It is idle and senseless talk to conjecture -what his future might have been if he had lived. -His course is run and his life is finished, as completely finished -as if he had lived an hundred years and died. What -was that life? Grady was a big-hearted, whole-souled fellow, -a man of the people, a statesman and a patriot. His -intellectual attainments and all fitted him for the grand -and brilliant position which he reached. True as steel to -his native South, he was able to conciliate the North. A -man of noble impulses, he never offended. In sober truth -he was a great man, and accomplished a great work which -will live after him and glorify his name.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Were a star quenched on high,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Forever would its light,</div> - <div class='line'>Still traveling downward from the sky,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Shine on our mortal sight.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>So when a great man dies,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Ages beyond our ken,</div> - <div class='line'>The light he leaves behind him lies</div> - <div class='line in2'>Upon the paths of men.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_593'>593</span> - <h3 class='c016'>THE SOUTH IN MOURNING.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Elberton Star.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Henry W. Grady</span>, the peerless orator and true patriot, -has been called to join the silent majority. This sad intelligence -reached Elberton last Monday morning, by private -telegram, and there was a gloom cast over the community -unequaled in the history of the town. Henry Grady was -loved and admired all over the South, but nowhere more -dearly than in this section.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It seems hard that this brilliant young statesman should -have been cut off just before he had gained the goal, just -prior to when he would have written his name among that -galaxy of eminent men who have gone before and made the -world better for having lived in it. If Grady had lived he -would have carried to a happy ultimatum the purpose he -had just commenced in solving the vexatious race problem, -and in doing this he would have had a place with the -names of Jefferson, Washington, Clay, Calhoun, and Webster.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Grady was a great man. He was not only an orator of -Hill-like ability, but he was a statesman. His writings -and speeches for years were well able and well panoplied -to grapple with and treat the most intricate and complicated -questions in a masterly manner.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His recent speech in Boston, at which time he contracted -the cold that terminated in his premature death, -was particularly and singularly forcible. The press and -people, both North and South, with one accord pronounced -it one of the ablest papers of the nineteenth century, and -with this great work begun, and the great architect thereof -dead, it is difficult to conjecture who will or can come to the -front and finish the grand and noble undertaking.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Grady’s first and greatest love was Atlanta. He was -like an inexhaustible gold mine to that town, and the Gate -City has sustained an irreparable loss. But Atlanta’s confines -<span class='pageno' id='Page_594'>594</span>were too contracted for a heart and brain like his. -He loved Georgia, almost like he loved his mother, and for -Georgia’s weal, he would have sacrificed his all.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Georgia’s loss, the South’s loss, cannot be estimated.</p> - -<p class='c018'>At his bier we bow our heads in profound sorrow, and -were it so that we could, we would cull the whitest flower -in the whole world and place it on the grave of this the -truest, noblest Georgian of them all.</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<h3 class='c016'>STRICKEN AT ITS ZENITH.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Greenesboro Herald and Journal.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>On</span> the mild Christmas morning the heart of Georgia is -bowed in sorrow over the death of her favorite son. It -seems, indeed, a mockery that amidst the joys and festivities -of the Christmas time, the dark shadow of the relentless -foe of man should intrude his presence and take from -our land one who was its brightest hope, its strongest -support!</p> - -<p class='c018'>And yet it is true. Henry Grady is dead! The orator, -the journalist, the poet by nature, the man of the people, -is dead! We cannot realize it. So bright in his strong -young manhood but one short week ago, now folded in the -arms of death! A greater shock, a keener sorrow was -never crushed upon a people!</p> - -<p class='c018'>This is not the time, in the shadow of the grave but in -the brightness of his glory, to speak fully of him that is -gone! Our pen fails, and all it can say is “Thou has -stricken Thy people, O God! and in Thy wisdom Thou hast -given us bitterness to drain! Let not our hearts rebel -against Thee, our Lord and our God!”</p> - -<p class='c018'>The death which has come to Georgia to-day cannot be -measured in its irreparable loss. A week ago the South -was in mourning over the death of her great leader! But -he belonged to the past, and while the sorrow fell deep, yet -we realize that a life had ended which had filled its fullest -<span class='pageno' id='Page_595'>595</span>mission. But in the death of Henry Grady the South has -lost a leader of to-day—an active, earnest, true man, whose -heart, bound up in the advancement of his people, was but -laying brighter and fresher and truer plans for their prosperity. -To every heart in the South the question comes -“Who will lead us now? Who will defend our principles -now that he is taken from us?” And out of the blackness -of our desolation it seems that no star shines to guide us!</p> - -<p class='c018'>It is, perhaps, well that the last effort of Mr. Grady was -in defense of our institutions and in support of the principles, -motives and ambitions of his people. He died with -the gathering halo of a people’s love clustering about him! -He went to death with a defense of that people clinging to -his lips and to his heart! In the zenith of his usefulness -he was cut down! Why? God in His infinite wisdom -knows best!</p> - -<p class='c018'>We can pay no tribute to the memory of Henry Grady -greater than the love which weeps at his bier this morning. -And yet the writer would lay, amidst the offerings which -fall from the overflowing hearts of thousands to-day, a tiny -tribute to his memory. He was our friend, wise and true -and earnest in his counsels—pointing out that the true end -of the journalist is the defense and advancement of his -people. As a journalist, perhaps, has his greatest work -been done, and upon the heart of every man of the pen he -left an impression that his vocation is ennobled and is the -grander that Henry Grady made it his love. And, in the -shadow of death will come this consoling thought. That -the press, which was his power, and which remains as the -bulwark of the people, is the purer, and the better, and the -stronger from the principles which Henry Grady inculcated -in it. To carry out that work, which has fallen from his -hands in death, should move the heart of every journalist, -and when its fullest fruition has come, then will the crown -upon the fame of Henry Grady shine the brighter!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Peace to the great man gathered to his reward! The -future will crown his memory with the bright flowers which -will come as the fruition of his hopes and of his life-work!</p> -<hr class='c049' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_596'>596</span> - <h3 class='c016'>THE SOUTHLAND MOURNS.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><i>From the “Griffin Morning Call.”</i></div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The</span> brilliant young editor of the Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> -entered into rest eternal and closed an earth-life remarkable -for splendor at 3:40 o’clock yesterday morning. His brief -career reflects not only glory upon his name, but also crowns -with unique distinction the high profession of journalism. -A noble representative of the grand old State of Georgia, -the lustre of his life-work was reflected upon the commonwealth -he served and to whose honor he consecrated the -ripeness of his learning, his eloquence and his patriotism.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His harp hangs now mute upon the willows! No more -shall the soul and intellect of the thoughtful North or -South, in New York, New England, Texas or Georgia, be -stirred to the depths by his impassioned words or impressed -by his unanswerable logic. “The silver cord is loosed, the -golden bowl is broken.” But the music his harp evoked -is not dead and shall long linger a sweet song in many -hearts, and his works do follow him.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was born in Athens, Ga., in 1851, and though a man -of well ripened powers, had not reached that prime when a -strong man’s capacity for labor is most highly tested.</p> - -<p class='c018'>He was educated at the State University, and afterward -pursued a post graduate course at the University of Virginia, -where so many noble characters have been molded.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Here the orator and scholar grew and nature’s rare gifts -were fused and refined in the crucible of mental discipline. -The studies which specially attracted him and in which -he excelled, were Greek, Anglo-Saxon, history and belles-letters. -Thus, evidently a most copious vocabulary was -created and the mind stored with fertile illustrations in the -department of history and general literature. In the happy -use of words, in graceful rhetoric he was not surpassed by -any American of his day. Roscoe Conkling or Col. Ingersoll -might be compared to him, but the former had not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_597'>597</span>Grady’s tact, neither his full vocabulary, and never treated -the difficult and delicate topics Grady handled. And -Ingersoll, though having remarkable power of language -and an accomplished rhetorician, had not the logical mind -of the brilliant young Georgian, and tinges his best efforts -with bitterness and cant.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Grady was natural, even-tempered, generous, warm-hearted. -His end came after the greatest effort of his life. -His Boston speech will do an inestimable benefit to the -South at a time when, under President Harrison, the bitter -and partisan spirit of the Republicans was leavening much -of the thought of the North. Mr. Grady addressed Northern -people from the home of Phillips and Sumner, and his -words have rung from Boston to San Francisco. His great -speech was susceptible to no criticism for taste, for loyalty -to our convictions, for impressive oratory or convincing -argument. His facts and his logic are as strong as his -word painting.</p> - -<p class='c018'>His beautiful tribute to the land which “lies far South” -is a literary gem not destined alone to stir the hearts at the -time of its utterance. It will live for its poetry, its tender -sentiment and its reality.</p> - -<p class='c018'>If our friends across Dixie’s mythical line are but moved -to do justice to a long suffering people, and trust us for -loyalty to settle our peculiar problems, Grady has not lived -in vain and will be the great apostle of his age.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Lay him gently to rest then, Georgians, in this sweet -Christmas time, while the bells are chiming the notes of his -Savior’s birth, and cover his grave with holly, mistletoe, -and ivy, until the Master comes in glorious majesty to judge -the world, and earth and sea give up their dead.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_599'>599</span><span class='c029'>THE “CONSTITUTION”</span></div> - <div class='c000'><span class='c004'><i>AND ITS WORK</i></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div id='p600' class='figcenter id001'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_600'>600</span> -<img src='images/p600.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic002'> -<p>ATLANTA CONSTITUTION BUILDING.</p> -</div> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_601'>601</span> - <h2 class='c012'>THE “CONSTITUTION” AND ITS WORK.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> -<p class='drop-capa0_25_0_7 c017'>THE Atlanta <i>Constitution</i> came into being in the seething -chaos of reconstruction. The name suggests the -issue of which it was born and the cause which gave it life -and strength at the beginning of its career. Georgia was -being reconstructed under military supervision, against -the will of a vast majority of the people, and there was no -journal published in Atlanta which gave adequate expression -to the sentiment of a million people. The old <i>Intelligencer</i>, -which had been the clarion of war times, was no -longer equal to the emergency. It had bravely breasted -the storm of war, dodging about between bomb-shells and -issuing forth defiant, one day in one town and one day in -another, sometimes even setting up its press in a box car. -But for the more trying times of reconstruction it was not -adequate. The fiery tone and dauntless attitude were gone -and it began to counsel for the things that were. While -the people were idolizing Ben Hill for his superb defiance -and applauding the unreconstructed and unterrified -Toombs, there was no paper to voice the deep and unconquerable -sentiment against reconstruction and for the -re-establishment of the State constitution.</p> - -<p class='c018'>It was then that the <i>Constitution</i> appeared. When -Messrs. W. A. Hemphill and J. H. Anderson bought a -little sheet called <i>Public Opinion</i>, and put Colonel Carey -Styles in charge as editor, he named it <i>The Constitution</i>, -and the name became its shibboleth and its issue. The -editor was a bold and fearless writer and a fiery and impetuous -orator. His editorials glowed with defiance of the -reconstructionists, and his speeches were iridescent with -burning denunciation. Writing and speaking on the side -of the people, he made the paper immensely popular, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_602'>602</span>the enterprise of the proprietors kept it rolling on the crest -of the tide.</p> - -<p class='c018'>From the first the <i>Constitution</i> was a more enterprising -news-gatherer than any of its contemporaries. It was the -first to employ special correspondents in all parts of the -State and the South. The system which has since become -comprehensive and well-nigh perfect was then in its beginning, -but it was something new in Georgia, and attracted -attention. It was in this way that Mr. Grady was employed -to go with the press excursion which passed through -North Georgia, looking and writing to the development of -the resources of the State, and his “King Hans” letters -on that trip gave the first news from the important points -of the excursion.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In those early days the <i>Constitution</i> was not without -literary attractions. The associate editor with Colonel -Styles was Mayor J. R. Barrick, a genial gentleman, much -beloved by his acquaintances and known to the public as a -scholar and poet. He had been a <i>protégé</i> of George D. -Prentice, who had recognized in the young man literary -talent of no common order.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In those days editorials were of the first importance. -The State was being reconstituted, and great questions that -went down to the foundations of government were being -discussed. The orators of the day were Ben Hill, Toombs, -Alexander Stephens, and scores of lesser but not inconsiderable -lights. Speeches were matters of vital importance -to newspapers and the public, and the leading orators -were always stenographically reported. The modern synopsis -would not then suffice. There were giants in those -days, and the people hung upon their words; their utterances -must be given in full. Editorials must rise to the -same level, and great questions must be handled with the -same dignity and earnestness. Men were not too busy to -think and read, and they demanded mental pabulum that -was strong and rich. Talent was at a premium, and its -services easily commanded good pay. The owners of the -<i>Constitution</i> were the first to realize the priceless value of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_603'>603</span>Mr. Grady’s genius, and when he was yet a college boy -under age, Mr. Hemphill, who had lived in Athens, where -Mr. Grady grew up, made his guardian a proposition to -buy an interest in the <i>Constitution</i> for Mr. Grady on condition -that he should take the position of managing editor. -From then until Captain Howell employed him in 1876, -the <i>Constitution</i> never lost sight of Mr. Grady. While -attending the University of Virginia he contributed to the -paper, and on his return he was engaged by the editor to -represent the <i>Constitution</i> on the press excursion referred -to above.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The mechanical appliances of Southern newspapers at -that time were vastly out of proportion to the matter then -carried. The <i>Constitution</i> was born and swaddled in a -store-room on Alabama Street. It was a long room with a -skylight, and printer’s cases were arranged along the wall -on either side. In front was the business office, and in one -corner a little room was partitioned off for the editors. -There was a freemasonry between printers and editors, -and the whole force glowed with enthusiasm for the cause -which was epitomized in the paper’s name.</p> - -<p class='c018'>After reconstruction became a fact the State swarmed -with aliens, and the people were goaded to fury under -negro and carpet-bag government. The Capitol was infested -with unknown men suddenly thrust into power, and they -carried extravagant measures with a high hand. A Republican -Governor was in office, and the venerable Secretary of -State, Colonel N.C. Barnet, lately deceased, had gone out, -carrying with him the great seal of the State, which he -refused to allow affixed to any official act of men ushered -into office by the military authorities. The State was -involved in lottery schemes and loaded down with railroad -bonds on which Treasurer Angier, a sturdy Republican, had -refused to put his signature. The sessions of the Legislature -were held in a great opera house sold to the State by -private parties for an enormous price. In the building was -a restaurant, confectionery shop, and velocipede rink. It -was a scene decried, and the proceedings of the Legislature -<span class='pageno' id='Page_604'>604</span>were daily denounced by the press and people. Among -the boldest and most scathing critics of those disgraceful -transactions was the <i>Constitution</i>, and its editor in his -public speeches smote the participants hip and thigh. The -fight was on for the redemption of the State, and it was -waged without ceasing till the yoke was thrown off and a -Democratic Governor was elected in 1872. In all that fight -the <i>Constitution</i> was the leading newspaper, and from the -beginning the battle was waged with the uncompromising -fervor that had characterized its opposition to the reconstructionists. -In both these contests it was with the people, -and in its columns they found free and full expression. -The bitterness of those days has died out, and many of the -sturdiest opponents have become friends; differences of -judgment have long since been allowed admissible, but the -friendships cemented in the heat of those contests are deep -and abiding, and for its gallant services then the <i>Constitution</i> -is still endeared to the people of Georgia.</p> - -<p class='c018'>With the redemption of the State from negro and carpet-bag -rule, there was no local political issue of transcendent -importance. The State was safe, and people began to -look about and take account of what was left from the -wreck of war and reconstruction. The country was in a -deplorable condition, and its rehabilitation almost a work -of despair. In the midst Atlanta had begun to rise out of -the ashes, and the brave spirits that gathered here had -already made a name for the new city, which began to be -looked upon as something more than a Phoenix; but all -around was desolation. The plantations were in a deplorable -condition, fences were rotting, and houses were going -to decay. The first flush times of peace and greenbacks -had passed, and the panic of 1873 left every interest -depressed. It was then that the effects of war and waste -were fully felt, and then that the stoutest hearts were tried. -Labor was restless and hard to control, the planter was out -of funds and interest was high, real estate outside a few -favored localities was depreciating, and the farmers were -almost at the point of desperation.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_605'>605</span>In all this hopelessness there were a few hopeful spirits, -here and there one that could chirp. The hot days of politics -were past and the newspapers must look to other fields. -The <i>Constitution</i> was the first to look to the development -of the State’s resources as the new opportunity for journalistic -enterprise. This was a reconstruction in which the -people could take part; the <i>Constitution</i> had fought the -one, it would lead the other. From that time until now -development has been the <i>Constitution’s</i> most important -mission, and in that field its most earnest efforts have been -put forth. Constructive journalism was a new thing, and -the <i>Constitution</i> became the pioneer. Men might differ on -matters of public policy, but no one could afford to differ -with a newspaper devoted to building up its environment, -its city, State, and section.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Here in Atlanta the effect of this new policy was first -felt, and here are its richest results; but helpfulness is -contagious, and everywhere the <i>Constitution</i> touched there -was a better feeling, and on account of that feeling it -touched farther and farther. Coupling with this constructive -policy a news system of unprecedented thoroughness, -the <i>Constitution</i> became inseparably connected with the -life of the people. It was in touch with them everywhere -in Georgia and the surrounding States, and finally its beneficent -influence spread throughout the whole South, inspiring, -encouraging, building up. While some old statesmen -were conducting in its columns a discussion as to whether -Georgia was growing richer or poorer, the policy of repair -was unremittingly pursued; and before the death of Alexander -Stephens, who had cried out that the State was -going to decay, the signs of new life had already appeared -and people began to talk about a New South.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The New South sprang from the scions of the old, and -everywhere Confederate soldiers were leaders in this -upbuilding. While they cherished the relics of by-gone -valor and continued to keep the graves of their dead comrades -green, they looked hopefully to the future and strove -to lay the foundations of new greatness and future influence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_606'>606</span>in the restored Union. This was the key-note of the -most enlightened press, led by the <i>Constitution</i>, whose -editor, Capt. Howell, was a Confederate soldier.</p> - -<p class='c018'>There came an interesting period of rivalry in this good -work when Mr. Grady dashed into the arena. With the -impulsive Alston he took charge of the Atlanta <i>Herald</i> in -1873, and for two years it was warm in Atlanta. Colonel -J. W. Avery, who succeeded Barrick as editor of the <i>Constitution</i>, -had gone over to the <i>Herald</i>, and Colonel E. Y. -Clarke, who had bought out Mr. Anderson, was editor of -the <i>Constitution</i>, while Mr. Hemphill remained business -manager, a position he has filled without intermission since -the birth of the paper. He and Colonel Clarke had already -built the old <i>Constitution</i> building on Broad Street. Mr. -Grady was making the <i>Herald</i> one of the brightest papers -ever published in Atlanta, and there were several other -dailies in the field. The old <i>Intelligencer</i> had passed away, -and in its place had come the <i>Sun</i>, a Democratic paper -edited by Alexander Stephens. <i>The New Era</i>, a scholarly -Republican paper, was edited by Colonel William L. -Scruggs, now Minister Plenipotentiary to Venezuela, and -<i>The True Georgian</i>, another Republican paper, was edited -by Sam Bard, a rugged product of those times. When the -<i>Herald</i> came into this field there were five morning dailies -in Atlanta. From the first the contest for supremacy was -between the <i>Constitution</i> and the <i>Herald</i>. With Georgia -Republicanism, the Republican papers passed out of existence, -and the <i>Sun</i> soon followed, leaving only the <i>Constitution</i> -and the <i>Herald</i>. In 1875 the fight between the two -papers became desperate. There was no morning train on -the Macon and Western road, and both papers wanted to -reach middle Georgia. The result was that both ran special -engines every morning from Atlanta to Macon, a distance -of 104 miles. The expense of these engines absorbed -the entire receipts of both papers, and left them to borrow -money to pay ordinary expenses. The engines carried not -over a thousand papers.</p> - -<p class='c018'>During the month that this fight for existence endured -<span class='pageno' id='Page_607'>607</span>there were many exciting scenes. Both papers went to -press about four o’clock, and it was a race to the depot -every morning. The paper which got there first was given -the main line first, and the day’s sales depended largely on -the quickness of the cart-boys.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The contest was spirited but short. Both papers were -heavily involved, and it was a question of endurance. -The <i>Constitution</i> had almost reached the end of its row -when a mortgage was foreclosed on the <i>Herald</i>. The <i>Constitution</i> -survived with a heavy debt. In 1872 Mr. N. P. -T. Finch had bought an interest in the paper, and after the -failure of the <i>Herald</i> Mr. Clarke retired and Mr. Finch -became editor. In 1876 Captain E. P. Howell, who had -had some experience in journalism as city editor of the -<i>Intelligencer</i> in its most vigorous days, and had since accumulated -some property in the practice of law, bought with -his brother Albert a half interest in the <i>Constitution</i>, and -took the position of editor-in-chief, which he has held ever -since. About the first thing Captain Howell did was to -employ Mr. Grady, and the next day he secured Joel -Chandler Harris. With this incomparable trio, associated -with Mr. Finch, the paper began editorially a new life. -The remnant of debts incurred in the fight with the <i>Herald</i> -was soon wiped out, and from that day the <i>Constitution</i> -has enjoyed unbroken prosperity.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Strongly equipped all around, the <i>Constitution</i> enlarged -and intensified its operations. The campaign of 1876 was -on, and Mr. Grady was sent to Florida, where he unearthed -and exposed the ugly transaction by which the electoral -vote of that State was given to Hayes. The whole nation -hung upon the result with breathless interest, and newspapers -were willing to pay any price for the news. The -<i>Constitution</i> and the New York <i>Herald</i> were the first to -unearth the fraud. On such occasions the <i>Constitution</i> -always had the news, and soon came to be looked upon as -the most enterprising paper in the South.</p> - -<p class='c018'>With the inauguration of Hayes the South turned away -from politics in disgust, and then it was that the <i>Constitution</i> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_608'>608</span>gave a new cue to the efforts of the people and turned -their slumbering energy to the development of Georgia and -the South.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady, whose Washington letters had made him a -national reputation, turned his energies and his heart to -development. He went about among the people looking -into their concerns and making much of every incipient -enterprise. In the agricultural regions he wrote letters -that were pastoral poems in prose, strangely mixed with an -intoxicating combination of facts and figures. When he -wrote about Irish potatoes his city editor, Josiah Carter, -now editor of the Atlanta <i>Journal</i>, planted several acres as -a speculation; when he told of the profits in truck farming -there was a furore in the rural districts; and when he -got out on the stock farms and described the mild-eyed -Jerseys, the stockmen went wild, and the herds were -increased, while calves sold for fabulous prices.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Wherever he went his pen touched on industry, and as -if by magic it grew and prospered. Fruits, melons, farms, -minerals, everything that was in sight, he wrote about; -and everything he wrote about became famous. It was in -this way that the <i>Constitution’s</i> work was done. The -people were wooed into enterprises of every sort, and most -of them prospered.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady’s work had attracted the attention of prominent -men everywhere, and in 1880 Cyrus W. Field, of New -York, lent him $20,000 to buy a fourth interest in the <i>Constitution</i>. -Mr. Field has stated since Mr. Grady’s death -that he never had cause to regret the loan, as it was -promptly repaid and had been the means of enlarging Mr. -Grady’s work. Mr. Grady bought 250 shares, or $25,000 -of the $100,000 of <i>Constitution</i> stock, from Messrs. Howell, -Hemphill, and Finch, who had previously purchased the -interest of Albert Howell. The stock was then equally -owned by Captain E. P. Howell, Mr. W. A. Hemphill, Mr. -N. P. T. Finch, and Mr. Grady. The staff was then reorganized, -with Captain Howell as editor-in-chief, Mr. -Grady, managing editor, and Mr. Finch and Joel Chandler -<span class='pageno' id='Page_609'>609</span>Harris as associate editors. Mr. Wallace P. Reed was -added in 1883, and Mr. Clark Howell, now managing editor, -came on in 1884 as night editor. When he was promoted -to be assistant managing editor in January, 1888, Mr. -P. J. Moran, who had been with the <i>Constitution</i> since the -suspension of the <i>Sun</i> in the early seventies, succeeded to -the position of night editor. In 1886 Mr. Finch retired, -and his interest was shared by Messrs. E. P. Howell, -Hemphill, Grady, and Clark Howell, and two new proprietors, -Messrs. S. M. Inman, of Atlanta, and James Swann. -The <i>Constitution</i> has held on its staff at different times -many of the most brilliant writers in the country, among -them Sam Small, Henry Richardson, editor of the Macon -<i>Telegraph</i>, Bill Arp, Betsey Hamilton, T. DeWitt Talmage, -and a number of others. The editor of the Atlanta <i>Evening -Journal</i> graduated from the city editorship of the -<i>Constitution</i> in 1887, and was succeeded by Mr. J. K. Ohl, -who still has charge of the city department. Mr. R. A. -Hemphill had acquired some stock and was in the business -department. The <i>Constitution</i> under the management of -Mr. W. J. Campbell has built up a large publishing business -and now does the printing for the State. The weekly -circulation is in charge of Mr. Edward White, who has an -army of agents in all parts of the Union. The western -edition in the last month has grown to large proportions.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In 1883 the <i>Constitution</i> had outgrown its three-story -building on Broad Street, and the company bought the -present site on the corner of Alabama and Forsyth, and -began the erection of the new <i>Constitution</i> building. It -was completed in August, 1884, at a cost of $60,000 including -the site, and the $30,000 perfecting press and other machinery -ran the whole cost of the plant up to $125,000. The -site is the best for its purpose in the city. In the heart of -the town and on an eminence above most other points, the -editorial rooms on the fourth and fifth floors overlook the -city and the undulating country for miles around. On the -north, historic Kennesaw rises, a grim monument of valor, -and the white spires at its foot are visible to the naked eye. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_610'>610</span>On the south, Stone Mountain raises its granite dome fifteen -miles away, and to the northeast the eye reaches the first -foothills of that bracing region of the moonshiners where -the Blue Ridge breaks up and makes a Switzerland in -Georgia.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In November, 1884, the <i>Constitution</i> christened its new -building with the first news of Cleveland’s election. The -Legislature then in session filled the <i>Constitution</i> building -at night, eagerly and enthusiastically watching the returns. -When at last one morning the result was definitely known, -a joyous party went from the <i>Constitution</i> building to the -Capitol, where occurred the memorable scene when Mr. -Grady adjourned the Legislature.</p> - -<p class='c018'>A great crowd had collected about the <i>Constitution</i> -office, and when at eleven o’clock <span class='fss'>A.M.</span> it was known -beyond a doubt that Cleveland was elected, a brass band -was brought up, and Mr. Grady and Captain Howell -headed the procession. The march through town was -hilarious and exultant. The crowd carried a huge can of -red paint which was lavishly applied to sidewalks and -prominent objects on the line of march. When the procession -passed up Marietta Street its enthusiasm led it into -the Capitol where the Legislature was in session. Leading -the head of the procession to the hall of the House of Representatives, -Mr. Grady passed by the door-keeper into the -main aisle. Colonel Lucius Lamar, of Pulaski, a man of -imposing presence, was in the chair. His long hair fell -over his shoulders, and his bearing was magnificent. -Advancing down the aisle Mr. Grady paused and, in the -stately formula of the door-keeper, cried, with the most -imposing and dramatic manner:</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Mr. Speaker; A message from the American people.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>Catching the spirit of the invasion, the dignified Speaker -said solemnly:</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Let it be received.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>With that Mr. Grady pressed up to the speaker’s chair, -and quickly wresting the gavel from his hand, cried in -imposing and exultant tones:</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='pageno' id='Page_611'>611</span>“In the name of God and the American people, I -declare this House adjourned to celebrate the election of -Grover Cleveland, the first Democratic President in twenty-four -years.”</p> - -<p class='c018'>At this there was a whirlwind of applause, and the -House broke up with the wildest enthusiasm.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Grady often said that he and Oliver Cromwell were -the only two men who ever adjourned a legislative body in -that style.</p> - -<p class='c018'>From the occupation of the new building the <i>Constitution</i> -took on tremendous growth. Mr. Grady had conceived -an idea of making the greatest weekly in America, -and since 1881 that edition had grown prodigiously. -When it was enlarged to a twelve-page form in 1881, it had -only 7200 subscribers. Special contributors were engaged, -special correspondents were sent out, and a picket line of -local agents was thrown out all over the South, while -sample copies were doing missionary work in the northwest. -The first year the circulation jumped to 20,000, the -next to 35,000, and when the <i>Constitution</i> went into its -new building in 1884 the 50,000 mark was reached. In -1887 the weekly passed 100,000, receiving 20,000 subscribers -in December. In December, 1889, while Mr. Grady was in -Boston, the paper broke the record with 20,000 subscribers -in one day. During the month 27,000 subscriptions were -received, and now the circulation is 146,000, of which -140,000 are subscribers and about 6000 sample copies.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The inspiring and reconstructive work of the <i>Constitution</i> -culminated in the Cotton Exposition of 1881. The -whole country was warmed by a wave of prosperity in -1880, and the people of the South, invigorated and -enthused, entered heartily into the purposes of the Exposition. -When they came to see that wonderful collection of -resources it was a revelation and an inspiration to them. -The ball was in motion, and through the decade it has -rolled with steadily increasing momentum. The development -of the South has already gone beyond the expectation -of the most sanguine, and already this region has a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_612'>612</span>firm hold on iron and cotton, the two greatest industries on -the continent.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Over all this helpful and inspiring work Captain Howell, -the editor-in-chief, had a watchful eye. His heart and -his purse were enlisted, and he backed up the vigorous -work of his paper with earnest personal work. He was -concerned in the leading enterprises as organizer and subscriber -to the stock. In the flush of enthusiasm he was a -balance-wheel. He added the safe counsel of a mature -business man to the enthusiasm of his more youthful partner, -and then backed him up with money and prodigious -energy.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The Kimball House burned down one Sunday in August, -1883, and immediately the <i>Constitution</i> set to work to raise -the immense sum needed to replace the magnificent hotel. -It had been the pride of Atlanta. Conventions and distinguished -visitors from all sections of the country had -been entertained there. It was Atlanta’s reception room, -and was a necessity. It must be replaced, and the <i>Constitution</i> -threw itself in the breach. Captain Howell became -president of the new Kimball House Company, and bent -himself to the enormous task of raising $650,000. The -whole town was enthused, and Mr. Kimball’s magic services -were again called into requisition. On the 12th of -August, 1884, exactly one year from the day the old building -was burned, the directors of the new Kimball House -took tea on the fifth floor, and within six months the magnificent -structure was completed. At the grand banquet -which celebrated the event Captain Howell presided, and -Mr. Grady was one of the principal speakers.</p> - -<p class='c018'>In all this development and upbuilding the other owners -of the <i>Constitution</i> backed up its work with personal -effort and financial support. Mr. Hemphill and Mr. Inman -are stockholders in almost everything about Atlanta, and -Mr. Swann, though now a resident of New York, continues -to invest his money largely in Atlanta enterprises.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Perhaps the greatest service the <i>Constitution</i> ever did -for Atlanta and the State was its work for the location of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_613'>613</span>the Capitol here. The Constitutional Convention of 1877 -left the question of location with the people and the election -was held that fall. A vigorous campaign was precipitated -almost from the adjournment of the Convention. Atlanta -was in great straits. The Capitol had been removed there -from Milledgeville by the Republicans, and the rank odor -of reconstruction times and of negro and carpet-bag rule -hung over the spot where their disgraceful transactions had -been enacted. The glorious memories of the past were -associated with Milledgeville, where the great men of the -century had been in training. Macon, Augusta, Savannah, -and the press of Southern Georgia sought to array these -cherished associations against Atlanta, the dashing new -city that had the audacity to set new patterns and do -things in her own vigorous way. Something had to be -done; enormous obstacles had to be overcome, and Atlanta -resolved to do the work. The city council met and decided -to spare no pains or expense to get the Capitol. A general -campaign committee was organized with Captain J. W. -English at its head, and the work from that center was -begun. In addition to this a prudential committee of three -was appointed and given a <i>carte blanche</i> to carry the election, -with unlimited means at its command. On this committee -were ex-Governor, now Senator, Joseph E. Brown, -Major Campbell Wallace and Captain E. P. Howell, editor -of the <i>Constitution</i>. The advanced age of the other two -members made it necessary for Captain Howell to take the -heaviest part of the work upon his shoulders and he worked -night and day. Every county in the State, except those -about Macon and Milledgeville, was covered with men -talking for Atlanta, and the whole State was flooded with -Atlanta literature. Some of the most distinguished -speakers in the State were on the hustings, and the heaviest -timber was on Atlanta’s side. It was a campaign of hard -work. Every voter, white and colored, was reached by -type and talk; and when the day came Atlanta won by -44,000 votes majority.</p> - -<p class='c018'>While the leading citizens of Atlanta, including the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_614'>614</span>editors and owners of the <i>Constitution</i>, were personally at -work in the campaign, the paper was the chief point of -attack in a bitter newspaper war. Rancor ran almost to -bloodshed. Atlanta editors in those days were prepared to -talk it out or fight it out as their adversaries pleased. An -editor’s courage was in demand as constantly as his pen, -and there was no milk and water in editorials. The <i>Constitution</i> -held the fort for Atlanta, and its flag flaunted -serenely in the worst of the war.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Then came a long fight for an appropriation to build a -new Capitol. The <i>Constitution</i> steadily advocated it, and -its influence was thrown into the Legislature to back up -Mr. Rice, the Atlanta member, who introduced the bill. -Finally when a million dollars had been appropriated, the -editor, Captain Howell, was put on the Capitol Commission -to succeed the late Mr. Crane as the member from Atlanta.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Since then the <i>Constitution</i> has been a power in political -campaigns, and its influence was triumphantly exerted -in behalf of Governor Colquitt in the famous Colquitt-Norwood -campaign, when part of the Democratic Convention -split off and nominated Norwood after Colquitt had -been named by the majority. Mr. Grady took charge of -Governor Colquitt’s campaign, and to his efforts, more than -to anything else, Colquitt’s election was due. In the -Bacon-Boynton campaign the <i>Constitution’s</i> influence was -exerted for Governor Boynton, and finally for Governor -McDaniel, when Major Bacon had almost run away with -the nomination. When Governor Gordon dashed into the -State in 1886 Mr. Grady took charge of the campaign headquarters -in Atlanta and directed the work for Gordon. -The General’s wonderful magnetism was backed up with -such prodigious work as the State had never known. The -local influentials all over the State were largely pledged to -Major Bacon, and it was thought he had the nomination -in his pocket. Week by week, as the returns came in, the -Gordon column crept up on Bacon’s, and in the closing -weeks the General swept by him with a rush.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The prohibition campaign of 1887 was one of the most -<span class='pageno' id='Page_615'>615</span>remarkable episodes in the history of Atlanta, and the -division and tension among friends and neighbors was -strikingly shown by the position of the gentlemen who -owned the <i>Constitution</i>. Captain Howell, the editor in -chief, was an ardent anti, and Mr. Grady, the managing editor, -was the leading advocate of prohibition. Mr. Hemphill -and Mr. Inman were for prohibition, and other stockholders -were against it. The campaign committees on both -sides loaded down the columns of the paper with bristling -communications, while the editor-in-chief and the managing -editor had thrown their whole strength into the campaign -on opposite sides. Both were on the hustings, and -it so happened that both spoke the same night, Captain -Howell to an opera house full of antis, and Mr. Grady to a -big warehouse full of prohibitionists. The whole town -was on the <i>qui vive</i>; one-half the people were hurrahing -for Howell and the other were cheering for Grady. The -editors drew more than the houses would begin to hold, -and their audiences were in a frenzy of delight.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The speeches were the talk of the day, and for days -afterward their arguments were discussed and repeatedly -mustered into service by the other speakers.</p> - -<p class='c018'>On the afternoon of the day they were to speak the -<i>Evening Journal</i> contained the following spirited notice -under the head of “Howell and Grady”:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c031'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Jack Spratt</div> - <div class='line'>Could eat no fat,</div> - <div class='line in2'>His wife could eat no lean,</div> - <div class='line'>Between them both</div> - <div class='line'>They cleared the cloth</div> - <div class='line in2'>And licked the platter clean.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c021'>The reproduction of this ancient rhyme is not intended as an insinuation -that Mr. Henry W. Grady, the silver-tongued prohibition orator -of to-night, has any of the attributes of Jack Spratt, or that Colonel -Evan P. Howell, the redoubtable champion of the antis, has any of the -peculiarities of Jack Spratt’s conjugal associate. The idea sought to be -conveyed is that the fat and lean of prohibition will be energetically -attacked by these gentlemen to-night at the same hour from opposite -sides of the table.</p> - -<p class='c022'>It goes without saying that between them both the platter will be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_616'>616</span>licked clean, and it is to be hoped that this hearty prohibition meal -will be thoroughly digested and assimilated to Atlanta’s system, that -growth in her every tissue will be the result.</p> - -<p class='c022'>It would be hard to select two more effective speakers and two more -entirely different.</p> - -<p class='c022'>“What is Colonel Howell’s style of oratory?” said one newspaper -man to another.</p> - -<p class='c022'>“Well,” said he, “you have heard Grady? you know how he -speaks?”</p> - -<p class='c022'>“Yes.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>“Well, Grady makes you feel like you want to be an angel and with -the angels stand, and Howell makes you feel as if he were the commander -of an army, waving his sword and saying, ‘Follow me,’ and -you would follow him to the death.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>Both of these speakers will raise enthusiasm at the start. As Grady -ascends the platform the band will play “Dixie” and the audience will -be almost in a frenzy of delight. As Colonel Howard comes forward -the band will be likely to play the “Marsellaise Hymn,”—some air -that stirs the sterner nature—and he will be received with thunders of -applause.</p> - -<p class='c022'>With infinite jest and with subtle humor Mr. Grady will lead his -audience by the still waters where pleasant pastures lie; and there he -will “take the wings of the morning and fly to the uttermost parts of -the sea.”</p> - -<p class='c022'>Howell will march his audience, like an army, through flood and -fire and fell; he will cross the sea, like a Norseman, to conquer -Britain. In Grady’s flights you only hear the cherubim’s wing; in -Howell’s march the drum-beat never ceases. Grady’s eloquence is like -a cumulus cloud that rises invisible as mist till it unfolds its white banners -in the sky; Howell’s is like a rushing mountain stream that tears -every rock and crag from its path, gathering volume as it goes.</p> - -<p class='c022'>Mr. Howell will doubtless deal in statistics; Mr. Grady will have -figures, but they will not smell of the census. They will take on the -pleasing shape that induced one of his reporters to plant a crop of Irish -potatoes on a speculation. To-night Atlanta will be treated to a hopeful -view of prohibition by the most eloquent optimist in the country. -The contrast will be drawn with all the ruggedness of a strong, blunt -man.</p> - -<p class='c023'>The day after the election, when 1100 majority had -been announced against prohibition, Captain Howell and -Mr. Grady printed characteristic cards. Captain Howell, -from the standpoint of victory, gave in a few words his -reasons for his course, and closed by saying:</p> - -<p class='c021'><span class='pageno' id='Page_617'>617</span>A word about my partners. I have differed from them on this -question, and I know that they have been prompted by the same consciousness -of duty which caused me to so differ. I love Henry Grady -as a brother, and no one appreciates more highly than I his noble and -unselfish devotion to our city; no one knows better than I his earnestness -and faithful attachment to her welfare. Mr. Hemphill and Mr. -Inman are as true and tried citizens as Atlanta has, and are among my -warmest personal friends. Nothing that has occurred during this -campaign could mar the relations existing between us. The only -regret I have about the campaign is that I found it necessary to differ -with them, but I am confident that they will now join hands with me -in carrying out the purposes (uniting the people) as expressed above.</p> - -<p class='c023'>Mr. Grady declared his unshaken affection for his -partner, and pledged his aid to him in his purposes to -unite Atlanta and keep the sale of liquor within bounds. -As for his own part in the campaign, he expresses himself -in these remarkable words:</p> - -<p class='c021'>When everything else I have said or done is forgotten, I want -the words I have spoken for prohibition in Atlanta to be remembered. -I am prouder of my share in the campaign that has ended in its defeat -than of my share in all other campaigns that have ended in victory. I -espoused its cause deliberately, and I have worked for its success night -and day, to the very best of my ability. My only regret is that my -ability was not greater.</p> - -<p class='c023'>This reunion of the owners of the <i>Constitution</i> was the -prompt example which set a pattern for the community. -Within a year from the close of the bitterest campaign in -Atlanta’s history, one in which many a house and many a -family was divided against itself, the acrimony had almost -entirely disappeared. The wounds of the campaign were -healed and the soreness of defeat had disappeared; Atlanta -was re-united, and on every side were signs of prosperity -and good-will. In another twelvemonth she had to enlarge -her girth a quarter of a mile all round; nine hundred -houses were built, every one was filled, and there was a -pressing demand for more. The <i>Constitution</i> turned from -this struggle with its owners more strongly cemented by -personal friendship than ever before, and in the closing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_618'>618</span>weeks of 1889 the paper touched a higher mark of prosperity -than it had ever known.</p> - -<p class='c018'>After Mr. Grady’s death the <i>Constitution</i> pursued the -even tenor of its way. Saddened by that great calamity -the late editor’s associates realized that there was great -work for them to do. The succession to the management -was as natural as the passing of one day into another. -Mr. Clark Howell, Jr., eldest son of the editor-in-chief, -had been on the paper six years, first as night editor and -then as assistant managing editor. In Mr. Grady’s absence -he had been in charge, and in taking the position of managing -editor at twenty-six years of age, he assumed duties -and responsibilities that were not new to him. He was -fortified by an extensive personal acquaintance formed -not only in his newspaper experience, but in two terms of -active service as a representative of Fulton County in the -Legislature, having been nominated for the first term before -he was twenty-one years of age.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Howell won his spurs as a newspaper man before -he was twenty. On graduating from the University of -Georgia in 1883 he went to the New York <i>Times</i> as an -apprentice in its local department. It was Captain Howell’s -policy to throw his son on his own resources, and -the moderate allowance during college days, was almost -entirely withdrawn when young Clark went to New York. -A young reporter working on twelve dollars a week was -sorely put to it to make ends meet in a great city like New -York. From the New York <i>Times</i> city department Mr. -Howell went to the Philadelphia <i>Press</i>, assisting in the -news editing department. It was while he was in Philadelphia, -with very little cash, that he seized an opportunity -to make some money and a good deal of reputation. -Samuel J. Tilden was being urged to allow the use of his -name for the second Presidential nomination. He had not -said yea or nay, and the country was anxiously awaiting -his decision, for his consent would have settled the question -of Democratic leadership. Mr. Howell went to New -York for the <i>Constitution</i>, and his interview with Mr. Tilden -<span class='pageno' id='Page_619'>619</span>was the first announcement of the old statesman’s -determination not to enter the contest again. That night -Mr. Howell telegraphed the news to two hundred papers, -and the interview with the sage of Gramercy Park was -read on two continents. The young journalist who had -scored a scoop on all the ambitious newspaper men of the -country received flattering notices from the press, besides -the comforting addition of $400 to his almost invisible -cash.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Howell then came on the <i>Constitution</i> as night editor, -and was afterward promoted to the position of assistant -managing editor. What native ability and six years -of training did for him was made manifest very soon after -he assumed his new responsibility.</p> - -<p class='c018'>For days the letters and telegrams of condolence and -tributes to Mr. Grady filled the paper, and to that and the -monument movement all other matter was, for the time, -made subordinate. When at last the burden of the people’s -grief had found full expression, the <i>Constitution</i> -turned itself with renewed vigor to its work. Captain -Howell was on deck, the new managing editor plunged -into every detail, and soon a general improvement was the -result; the <i>Constitution</i> took on new life. Then Mr. -Howell turned on all his energies and put the magnificent -machinery at his disposal up to its full speed. The daily -issues drew daily commendations of their excellence from -the press, and the first twenty-four-page Sunday’s edition -was pronounced by many the best the <i>Constitution</i> had -ever issued.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The people realized that the <i>Constitution</i>, though it -had suffered a great loss in Mr. Grady’s death, was still in -strong hands, and from all parts of its territory came -renewed expressions of confidence and sympathy. So the -<i>Constitution</i> continues its work, enlarging and improving -as it goes, ever looking to the future while it cherishes a -magnificent past which it could not and would not let die.</p> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c0'> -<div class='nf-center c001'> - <div><span class='pageno' id='Page_621'>621</span><span class='c029'><span class='sc'>Letters and Telegrams</span></span></div> - <div class='c000'>FROM</div> - <div class='c000'><span class='c004'>DISTINGUISHED PERSONS.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c001' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_623'>623</span> - <h2 class='c012'>HON. CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW.</h2> -</div> -<hr class='c013' /> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>New York</span>, Dec. 23.—The New England Society celebrated -to-night its 84th anniversary and the 469th of the -landing of the Pilgrim Fathers with a dinner.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Mr. Depew spoke to the toast of “Unsolved Problems,” -and in the course of his remarks he referred to the death -of Henry W. Grady. He said:</p> - -<p class='c018'>“Thirty years ago, Robert Toombs, of Georgia, one of -the ablest and most brilliant defenders of slavery, said in -his place in the United States Senate that he would yet -call the roll of his bondmen at the foot of Bunker Hill -monument. To-day his slaves are citizens and voters. -Within a few days a younger Georgian, possessed -of equal genius, but imbued with sentiments so leavened -that the great Senator would have held him an enemy -to the State, was the guest of Boston. With a power -of presentation and a fervor of declaration worthy -of the best days and noblest efforts of eloquence, he stood -beneath the shadow of Bunker Hill and uttered opinions -justifying the suppression of the negro vote, which were -hostile to the views of every man in his audience, and yet -they gave to his argument an eager and candid hearing, -and to his oratory unstinted and generous applause. It -was triumphant of Puritan principles and Puritan pluck. -They know we know that no system of suffrage can -survive the intimidation of the voter or the falsification -of the courts. Public conscience, by the approval -of fraud upon the ballot and the intelligence of a community, -will soon be indifferent to the extensions of -those methods by the present office-holders to continue in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_624'>624</span>power, and the arbitrary reversing of the will of the majority -will end in anarchy and despotism.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“This is a burning question, not only in Georgia, but -in New York. It is that the government for the people -shall be by the people. No matter how grave the questions -which absorb the people’s attention or engross their -time, the permanence of their solution rests upon a pure -ballot.</p> - -<p class='c018'>“The telegraph brings us this evening the announcement -of the death of Henry W. Grady, and we forget all -differences of opinion and remember only his chivalry, -patriotism, and his genius. He was the leader of the New -South, and died in the great work of impressing its marvelous -growth and national inspirations upon the willing ears -of the North. Upon this platform, and before this audience, -two years ago, he commanded the attention of the country -and won universal fame. His death, in the meridian of -his powers and the hopefulness of his mission, at a -critical period of the removal forever of all misunderstanding -and differences between all sections of the Republic, -is a national calamity. New York mingles her tears -with those of his kindred, and offers to his memory a tribute -of her profoundest admiration.”</p> -<hr class='c047' /> -<h3 class='c016'>EX-PRESIDENT CLEVELAND.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>New York</span>, <i>December 23, 1889</i>.</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Mrs. Henry W. Grady</span>: Accept the heartfelt sympathy -of one who loved your husband for what he was and -for all that he had done for his people and his country. -Be assured that everywhere throughout the land warm -hearts mourn with you in your deep affliction and deplore -the loss the nation has sustained.</p> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>Grover Cleveland.</span></div> -<hr class='c047' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_625'>625</span> - <h3 class='c003'>HON. A. S. COLYAR.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Nashville, Tenn.</span>, <i>December 26, 1889</i>.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Mr. A. W. Davis, Atlanta, Ga.</span>:</p> - -<p class='c018'><i>My Dear Sir</i>:—I feel as if, in coming to what I had -hoped to be a joyous occasion, I am coming to the house of -mourning—the home of sorrow. Since the tragic end of -the young Irish patriot, death has not more ruthlessly -invaded the land of “shining marks” than when he the -other day came to your beautiful city—a city of happiness -and “high ways”—and, as if looking with remorseless -purpose into the very secrets of domestic felicity and -popular affection—took up and carried away into the land -of the unseeable the idol of a happy home and of a great -city. Not only was Henry W. Grady the idol of his own -city and State, but without office and without estate, -though young in years, he had attained a maturity of both -pen and heart which brought renown as an American -patriot far beyond what place or power can give. His death -is a national calamity. In times of peace, when much of -the press and many of the public men are inviting patronage -and seeking favors in fanning the passions born of a -sectional issue, to see a truly national and brave man, -who, loving his own native section, can nevertheless glory -in a common country and a common destiny for all the -American people—is to the patriot philosopher, who -divines the happiness of a reunited people, the bright star -of hope rising to dissipate the prejudices of the past and -light up the pathway to the coming millions.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Unfortunately, oh, how much to be deplored! the passions -of the sections have been kept alive by the pen and -tongue of the politician seeking patronage and office.</p> - -<p class='c018'>The young man of your city whose death all patriots -mourn, put himself on a higher plane—freed from passion -and rising above his own ambition, he gave tone and -temper to a national sentiment, which might be uttered in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_626'>626</span>Boston or Atlanta with equal propriety and patriotism -and from the emotions of his patriotic heart, he spoke -words which, while they were full of the manhood of his -own loved South, nevertheless warmed into a generous -sympathy the North man as well as the South man, and -put American citizenship so high that the young men of -the country may, without the sacrifice of local pride, ever -aspire to reach it.</p> - -<p class='c018'>As an example of Southern manhood, patriotic fervor, -and a statesmanship extending over the entire country and -into the coming generations, all sparkling with the scintillation -of an intelligent courage that defied alike the prejudices -of the ignorant and the appeals of the demagogue, -he was the representative and leader of a sentiment in the -South which promised speedily a reforming of public sentiment -north and south, a turning from the shades of the -past into the lighted avenues of the future—these avenues -opening to all alike without the sacrifice of manhood or -the domination of section.</p> - -<p class='c018'>I repeat, his death is a calamity, and oh, how sad and -mysterious!</p> - -<p class='c018'>Truly, <span class='sc'>A. S. Colyar</span>.</p> -<hr class='c047' /> -<h3 class='c016'>HON. MURAT HALSTEAD.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>Cincinnati</span>, <i>December 24, 1889</i>.</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Mrs. H. W. Grady</span>:</p> - -<p class='c018'>I desire to inscribe my name among those who feel the -public misfortune of Mr. Grady’s death as a personal loss, -and hope you may know how true it is that there are no -boundaries to sincere regrets and earnest sympathies.</p> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>Murat Halstead.</span></div> -<hr class='c047' /> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_627'>627</span> - <h3 class='c016'>HON. SAMUEL J. RANDALL.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> -<p class='c050'><span class='sc'>House of Representatives,</span></p> -<p class='c036'><span class='sc'>Washington, D. C.</span>, <i>December 24, 1889</i>.</p> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Hon. E. P. Howell, Atlanta, Ga.</span>:</p> - -<p class='c018'><i>My Dear Sir</i>:—I telegraphed briefly yesterday afternoon, -immediately upon hearing of the death of our dear -friend. I do not know when I have been more shocked -than I have been at this great calamity, and I cannot yet -bring my mind to realize it. The ways of Providence are -strange indeed, but we should submit with Christian fortitude.</p> - -<p class='c018'>So young a man, with so bright a future, and capable -of so much benefit to his State and country, it is hard -indeed to part with. His great object in life was to break -down sectionalism and bring the South to her full capabilities -of development. But I have not the heart to write -more.</p> - -<p class='c018'>Give Mrs. Randall’s love to Mrs. Grady and my kindest -sympathy, and tell her that as long as life lasts with us -Mr. Grady’s hundred and more kindnesses to both will -never fade from our memory.</p> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>Samuel J. Randall.</span></div> -<hr class='c047' /> -<h3 class='c016'>MR. ANDREW CARNEGIE.</h3> -<hr class='c019' /> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>New York</span>, <i>December 24, 1889</i>.</div> - -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Captain Howell</span>:</p> - -<p class='c018'>Only those who stood at Mr. Grady’s side as we did and -heard him at Boston can estimate the extent of the nation’s -loss in his death. It seemed reserved for him to perform a -service to his country which no other could perform so well. -Mrs. Carnegie and I share your grief and tender to his -family profound sympathy. We send a wreath in your -care which please place upon the grave of the eloquent -peacemaker between the North and South.</p> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>Andrew Carnegie.</span></div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<div> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_628'>628</span> - <h3 class='c016'>MANY DISTINGUISHED CITIZENS.</h3> -</div> -<hr class='c019' /> - -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>Springfield, Mass.</span>, <i>December 24, 1889</i>.</div> -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>The Honorable, the Mayor</span>:</p> - -<p class='c018'>Springfield shares the sorrow of her sister city. The -death of such a man as Henry Woodfin Grady is a national -loss.</p> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>Edward S. Bradford</span>, <i>Mayor</i>.</div> -<hr class='c028' /> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>New York</span>, <i>December 24, 1889</i>.</div> -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>To Mrs. Henry Grady</span>:</p> - -<p class='c018'>The New York Southern Society, profoundly affected by -a sense of the public loss sustained in the death of your -distinguished husband, offer you their heartfelt sympathy -in the great affliction you have suffered.</p> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>J. H. Parker</span>, <i>Vice-President</i>.</div> -<hr class='c028' /> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>New York</span>, <i>December 23, 1889</i>.</div> -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Governor Rufus B. Bullock</span>:</p> - -<p class='c018'>Your dispatch is received with sincere sorrow. Thousands -of our citizens recognized in Mr. Grady a man -worthy of the highest respect and esteem, and will regard -his untimely death a national calamity.</p> -<div class='c011'></div> -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Alonzo B. Cornell.</span></p> -<hr class='c028' /> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>New York</span>, <i>December 24, 1889</i>.</div> -<p class='c018'><span class='sc'>Evan Howell</span>:</p> - -<p class='c018'>Please give my earnest sympathy to Mrs. Grady. The -profession has lost one of its three or four foremost members, -and the country a true patriot.</p> -<div class='c011'><span class='sc'>Ballard Smith.</span></div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c007' /> -</div> -<p class='c018'> </p> -<div class='tnbox'> - - <ul class='ul_1 c007'> - <li>Transcriber’s Notes: - <ul class='ul_2'> - <li>Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. - </li> - <li>Typographical errors were silently corrected. - </li> - <li>Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant - form was found in this book. - </li> - </ul> - </li> - </ul> - -</div> -<p class='c018'> </p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS' LIFE OF HENRY W. 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