largest multitude of people ever assembled in the South in time of peace. The name, the plan, and the general organization were all due to Grady. In less than four months its grounds and buildings were prepared, stocked with the products of the agriculture and other industries of the region, and exhibited to the public. Of course many others assisted liberally, but the executive responsibility rested on Grady. The Exposition was in every way a success, and gave a lasting impulse to the rehabilitation of the South. Grady was called upon to be Congressman-at-large for Georgia, but positively refused to accept any political office. To the constant demand for speeches on public occasions, however, he felt it his duty to respond as far as his obligations to his newspaper and its thousands of readers would permit. When the managers of the New England Society of New York city sought a Southern man to address them, at their annual dinner in 1886, the editor of the Atlanta Constitution was chosen. On accepting the call he outlined a set of remarks which he considered suitable to the occasion and his theme-"The New South." But the scene itself-the assemblage of representative New England men, and some sectional allusions in the speeches which preceded his caused him to discard all his previous thoughts, and pour forth in unpremeditated eloquence the true feeling of his heart. The sincerity and genuine inspiration of his utterance roused an enthusiastic response, which astonished even the participants, and overwhelmed the young orator-the living embodiment of the new ideas. The speech was widely but never exactly reported, nor could the author recall every turn of expression. He accepted modestly the congratulations offered, and returned to his home to resume work at his desk. But new calls awaited him. Soon he went to Dallas to address the Texas State Fair Association. He had prepared and even put in type the speech he expected to deliver. But again the unexpected happened. The ovations he received on the railroad-trip to Texas, and the new surroundings at Dallas, again inspired him to deliver off-hand an address which carried the audience by storm. His oration before the literary societies of the University of Virginia was, of course, more elaborate. Full of poetry, as well as humor and pathos, it dealt with serious matters, whose importance was felt by every educated Southerner, He was summoned North to appear in Boston, and chose for the subject of his address, "The Future of the Negro." Being unwell when leaving home, he caught cold in Boston, which developed into pneumonia before he reached home. He died at Atlanta on the 23rd of December, 1889. THE OLD SOUTH AND THE NEW SOUTH. (From the Speech, December 21, 1886) The old South rested everything on slavery and agriculture, unconscious that these could neither give nor maintain healthy growth. The new South presents a perfect democracy, the oligarchs leading in the popular movement—a social system compact and closely knitted, less splendid on the surface, but stronger at the core—a hundred farms for every plantation, fifty homes for every palace-and a diversified industry that meets the complex need of this complex age. The new South is enamored of her new work. Her soul is stirred with the breath of a new life. The light of a grander day is falling fair on her face. She is thrilling with the consciousness of growing power and prosperity. As she stands upright, full statured and equal among the people of the earth, breathing the keen air and looking out upon the expanded horizon, she understands that her emancipation came because through the inscrutable wisdom of God her honest purpose was crossed, and her brave armies were beaten. This is said in no spirit of time-serving or apology. The South has nothing for which to apologize. She believes that the late struggle between the States was war and not rebellion, revolution and not conspiracy, and that her convictions were as honest as yours. I should be unjust to the dauntless spirit of the South and to my own convictions if I did not make this plain in this presence. The South has nothing to take back. In my native town of Athens is a monument that crowns its central hill-a plain, white shaft. Deep cut into its shining side is a name dear to me above the names of men -that of a brave and simple man who died in brave and simple faith. Not for all the glories of New England, from Plymouth Rock all the way, would I exchange the heritage he left me in his soldier's death. To the foot of that monument I shall send my children's children to reverence him who ennobled their name with his heroic blood. But, sir, speaking from the shadow of that memory which I honor as I do nothing else on earth, I say that the cause in which he suffered and for which he gave his life was adjudged by higher and fuller wisdom than his or mine, and I am glad that the omniscient God held the balance of battle in His Almighty hand, and that human slavery was swept forever from American soil, the American Union was saved from the wreck of war. This message, Mr. President, comes to you from consecrated ground. Every foot of soil about the city in which I live is sacred as a battle-ground of the Republic. Every hill that invests it is hallowed to you by the blood of your brothers who died for your victory, and doubly hallowed to us by the blow of those who died hopeless, but undaunted, in defeatsacred soil to all of us-rich with memories that make us purer and stronger and better-silent but staunch witnesses in its red desolation of the matchless valor of American hearts and the deathless glory of American arms-speaking an eloquent witness in its white peace and prosperity to the indissoluble union of the American States and the imperishable brotherhood of the American people.-H. W. GRADY. |