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_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.
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