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.