But the greatest characteristic of this man was his downright honesty. In this he stood almost alone, for while the legislature of Louisiana was charged with being a stock-jobbing concern, and its members, one after another, rolling in their new-gained wealth, Oscar J. Dunn was not only above suspicion, but actually died a poor man.
He was a calm, vigilant sentry for Louisiana when she dreamed it least. Firmly resisting temptations to sin, which too often beset official station, he could never be made an accomplice with others against her. His inflexible integrity was in itself a mighty protest against the shams of the state administration, and commanded such candid respect even from the Democrats, that of late the authors of those shams, in their recourse to Democrats for the fresh lease of power denied them by Republicans, were constrained to revive a prejudice for a pretext, and to charge him with instigating a black man’s party. There existed not a fact to justify the charge; but a lie was a fit auxiliary to new projects of fraud, and unhappily, there were “itching palms” to subscribe it per order.
His views were most catholic on the question of class. He wanted amity, not jealousy, between the colors, for he recognized all in the political society as brethren, not as rivals. He felt that injustice to any one citizen, white or black, was, if unredressed, a menace to all; that our interests were in common; our ballots, honestly counted, our common consent; and our influence for good, our common basis of endeavor for Louisiana. His aims for his race were too sincere to embarrass its progress by provoking anew the old sectional spleen against it—and he tacitly compelled in his own case a recognition, which any citizen might envy. Standing in a high official trust, and yet in a dark skin, he rebuked with quiet, inoffensive emphasis, the miserable heresy that a man is more or less a worthy citizen because of his color.
As a speaker, Mr. Dunn was not what the world would call “eloquent,” but what he said was always listened to with the greatest interest and respect. All classes held him in high esteem, and with his own color his power was unlimited. Attacked by a sudden and sure malady, death swept him away while in the zenith of his influence, on the twenty-first of November, 1871.
JOHN R. LYNCH.
The late rebellion has not produced a more remarkable instance of a self-made man than is seen in the career of John R. Lynch, Speaker of the House of Representatives of Mississippi. He was born in Louisiana, just opposite Natchez, in the year 1847, of a slave mother, then the property of a Mr. Lapiche, and is now in his twenty-fifth year. His father, being a man of wealth and character, made the necessary arrangements when Mr. Lynch was yet a child, to have him and his mother set free, but by his sudden and unexpected death, and treachery on the part of those who had entered into the agreement with him, the plan was not carried out, and both remained slaves until emancipated by the result of the war.
During his time of servitude, and while he was yet a boy, Mr. Lynch had a deep, irrepressible desire to rise above the hopeless lot to which destiny seemed to have assigned him, and went forward with the energy which has characterized him since that time, to the acquirement of as much education as was within his reach. He learned to read and write while a slave, but no more. After his mother became the property of Mr. Alfred Davis, she was taken to Natchez with her children, and has lived there ever since. In 1864, and while the Federal troops were in possession of that city, Mr. Lynch enjoyed the opportunity of attending night school, for four months only, and that closed all the educational advantages of which he has been possessed. Since that time he has been entirely dependent on his own efforts and resources, and his innate desire to obtain knowledge, for the advancement he has made.
That his career has been most remarkable thus far, cannot be denied by any one. This will appear most evident by a comparison of his humble origin and the many disadvantages under which he has labored, with the honorable position he now holds, and the high qualifications he brings with him to sustain him in that place. In point of education, he is amply fitted; in natural ability that is well-defined, cultivated, and ready, he certainly has no superior in the House. His knowledge of parliamentary law and usages has been tested in many heated contests with the best tacticians of the legislature, and proved to be inferior to none, however able. Nor do all these high qualifications, so amply possessed by Mr. Lynch, contain all the good things we have to say of him. He has the still higher virtue of unimpeached honesty and veracity. During all the two years of tempting trials that he has witnessed, it never once was intimated that he was even open to suspicion. The record he made during all that time is as pure and untarnished as the driven snow. No one ever questioned his integrity, or clouded his fair name with the intimation that he deviated from the path of rectitude and right. If he sometimes departed from the course marked out by a majority of his party, he did so, as he believed, in the discharge of a solemn duty, and with no other desire than to do what he conceived to be right.
He was appointed justice of the peace by General Ames in 1868, for the city of Natchez, took a prominent part in the constitutional convention of the State, was a member of the last legislature, and now fills the Speaker’s chair. Mr. Lynch is fluent in speech, eloquent in his addresses, chaste in his language, and gentlemanly in all his intercourse with others. Medium in size, genteel in figure, brown in complexion, with piercing eyes, amiable countenance, manly and upright walk, Mr. Lynch makes a dignified appearance in the speaker’s chair, and handles the gavel according to Cushing. He has been elected to a seat in Congress from his state.