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_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.
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