My intimacy with Mr. Croly began in 1860, when we were together upon
the editorial staff of the New York _World_. We had many notions,
socialistic and otherwise, in common. With these, however, we did not
venture to imperil the circulation of that conservative newspaper. He
was City Editor, and knew his business. I was struck by the activity
of his mind, and his combination of shrewd executive ability with
inventive skill. I found him a staunch friend, loyal to his
allies, helpful to his subordinates; moreover, a man of strong
convictions--which he asserted with a fine dogmatism; an idealist
withal, quite unhampered by reverence for conventional usage and
opinion. Absolute mental honesty was his chief characteristic.
He was a humanitarian, in the Positivist sense of the word. All his
aspirations were for the future glory and happiness of the human race.
Faith in the reign of law, and a prophetic certainty of man's
elevation--these were his religion. As a thinker and talker he
certainly was of the same breed with Tennyson's poet, who
"Sings of what the world will be
When the years have died away."
He bore good fortune and adversity with an equal mind, and he
displayed stoical courage throughout prolonged illness of a most
depressing type.
Others will add to your own feeling statement of his varied labors.
But let me say that, whether our paths came together or diverged, I
always thought of him as in every sense a comrade. His loss makes the
lessening roll of those with whom I touched elbows in the old
newspaper days seem ominously faded.