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_From the “Griffin Morning Call.”_
THE brilliant young editor of the Atlanta _Constitution_ entered into
rest eternal and closed an earth-life remarkable for splendor at 3:40
o’clock yesterday morning. His brief career reflects not only glory upon
his name, but also crowns with unique distinction the high profession of
journalism. A noble representative of the grand old State of Georgia,
the lustre of his life-work was reflected upon the commonwealth he
served and to whose honor he consecrated the ripeness of his learning,
his eloquence and his patriotism.
His harp hangs now mute upon the willows! No more shall the soul and
intellect of the thoughtful North or South, in New York, New England,
Texas or Georgia, be stirred to the depths by his impassioned words or
impressed by his unanswerable logic. “The silver cord is loosed, the
golden bowl is broken.” But the music his harp evoked is not dead and
shall long linger a sweet song in many hearts, and his works do follow
him.
He was born in Athens, Ga., in 1851, and though a man of well ripened
powers, had not reached that prime when a strong man’s capacity for
labor is most highly tested.
He was educated at the State University, and afterward pursued a post
graduate course at the University of Virginia, where so many noble
characters have been molded.
Here the orator and scholar grew and nature’s rare gifts were fused and
refined in the crucible of mental discipline. The studies which
specially attracted him and in which he excelled, were Greek,
Anglo-Saxon, history and belles-letters. Thus, evidently a most copious
vocabulary was created and the mind stored with fertile illustrations in
the department of history and general literature. In the happy use of
words, in graceful rhetoric he was not surpassed by any American of his
day. Roscoe Conkling or Col. Ingersoll might be compared to him, but the
former had not Grady’s tact, neither his full vocabulary, and never
treated the difficult and delicate topics Grady handled. And Ingersoll,
though having remarkable power of language and an accomplished
rhetorician, had not the logical mind of the brilliant young Georgian,
and tinges his best efforts with bitterness and cant.
Grady was natural, even-tempered, generous, warm-hearted. His end came
after the greatest effort of his life. His Boston speech will do an
inestimable benefit to the South at a time when, under President
Harrison, the bitter and partisan spirit of the Republicans was
leavening much of the thought of the North. Mr. Grady addressed Northern
people from the home of Phillips and Sumner, and his words have rung
from Boston to San Francisco. His great speech was susceptible to no
criticism for taste, for loyalty to our convictions, for impressive
oratory or convincing argument. His facts and his logic are as strong as
his word painting.
His beautiful tribute to the land which “lies far South” is a literary
gem not destined alone to stir the hearts at the time of its utterance.
It will live for its poetry, its tender sentiment and its reality.
If our friends across Dixie’s mythical line are but moved to do justice
to a long suffering people, and trust us for loyalty to settle our
peculiar problems, Grady has not lived in vain and will be the great
apostle of his age.
Lay him gently to rest then, Georgians, in this sweet Christmas time,
while the bells are chiming the notes of his Savior’s birth, and cover
his grave with holly, mistletoe, and ivy, until the Master comes in
glorious majesty to judge the world, and earth and sea give up their
dead.
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