The New York Herald Newspaper, December 1, 1872, Page 6

Yollowing resolutionss wnicn were unantmonsty’ adopted :— whi the mournful intelligence Fd f-—y x mag tt, ate ace alee tape len removi the mogret at his sudden fee and Sat ti eh cesta tte ones = Teampie many of the incitements {0 that exe spority, therefore York’ Typographi s which have beet and hereby record: ti of country, an v1 orc detconstitute the strength’ and insures the welfare of Ame’ le. ttesolved, That i the death of Mr. Greeley we deplore the loss of ‘a man whose courageous struggle with adverse raggle o in early youth and ne dill pene, 38 well directed efforts In” mature years have taugl Smoate ‘American youth which can never be unlearned. Resolved, That in the tribute of respect to the memory of our late’ fellow member these preambles and resolu- tions Le printed in the dally journals of this city and that certified copy thereot be transmitted to the family of a . Greeley. Miesolved Also, That tho banner of the society be @raped in mourning for a space of thirty days and the members aitend the funeral in a body. Mr. Wit11aM A. Bourne then addressed the meet- Yung, and spoke at considerable lengtn and wtih much feeling of the disaster which had fallen over ‘the whole country and wherever the name of Hor- ace Greeley was known by the death of the great journalist. Mr. Greeley, he said, was @ self-made man, and his liile was ashining example to all renee men who have to seek fortune among the rialsand troubles of this unsympathetic world. ‘His services in the noble cause of freedom would: ever be a standing monument to his name. He haa done his work nobly and bravely, and now, “after life's fitful fever, he sleeps well.” After a vote of thanks to the Chairman the mect- ang then adjourned. Action of the Union League Club. Last evening a large number of members of the Union League Club signed a petition to the Prest- dent to call aspecial meeting of the club on Mon- may evening, to take appropriate action with re- gard to the death of their fellow member, the late ‘Mr. Horace Greeley. The call was signed by all to ‘whom it was presented, and elicited the Kindest expressions in regard to Mr. Greeley. It is hoped that President Grant, who expects to attend the ‘Washburne reception at the club on Wednesday evening, would be able to the present at the funeral on Tuesday. Action of Other Bodtes. Both branches of the Common Council are to meet on Monday to take appropriate action upon the death of Mr. Horace Greeley. There will be a meeting of the former composi- ‘tors of the Tribune at the office of that paper on Monday afternoon, at three o'clock. A special meeting of the Lincoin Club will be eld at the club rooms, on Twenty-first street, on jonday evening, December 2, at half-past eight o'clock, to take action in regard to the death of Rueir late member, Horace Greeley. AT THE OLD HOMESTEAD. Whe Grief of Mr. Greeley’s Country Neighbors—The Old Homestead in Its Gloom and the Village in Mourning— A Good Man’s Record at Home. There was many a heavy heart in Chappaqua yesterday. The death of him who had spent so many years of “his valuable lifetime among its in- habitants seemed to have come home to every household with all the poignant anguish of a general atfiiction. Go where you would—from ‘the little station at the railway, where the flag dung at balf-mast out of respect for the memory of the dead, to the stores and shops where little groups sat with mournful faces and trembling lips, Aelling how he had tnade himself BELOVED BY ALL by his genial, simple ways ané large-hearted chari- ties, and how sadly he would be missed in the days that are to come—grief was traced on every countenance, ‘Even the little children, scarce old enough to know the difference between sorrow and joy, appeared to be affected by the general gloom. They hung about the outskirts of the little gatherings here and there, wearing a half-affrighted look and gazing up into the sad faces of the men as though they also could under- ptand the full meaning of every word of. sympathy dropped trom their fathers’ lips. And probably they did, in their innocent way, understand, if not every word uttered, at least enough to know that they oo had lost a good and loving friend, tor Mr. Gree- NEW, YORK HERALD, SUNDAY, DECEMBER 1, 1872—QUADRUPLE. SHEET. Oherished, and how mmoere are in their ex- pressions of sorrow over GONE, NEVER TO RETURN, “I can’t believe that he is dead,” was 3 mark of another who yA Surely a man who lived go lo! neighbors for years as Horace ‘Greeley his Lo gee at Chappaqua, and was 80 heirs pos the same id among beloved, leaving not an enemy behind, must indee: have been a man worthy of being truly loved by his fellow men. ad , i MOURNINGS OF THE METROPOLITAN PRESS Expressions of Grief and Sympathy—Journalistic Career of Deceased—His Services to the Country. — {From the New York Tribune.] Horace Greeley. The melancholy announcement of the death of the editor and founder of the Tribune, though for a few days his family and intimate friends have admitted to themselves its possibility, falls upon us all with the shock of sudden calamity. He had reached, indeed, a ripe old age, but time had not laid its withering touch upon him; his splendid constitution easily bore the strain of enormous labor; his mind was as fresh and strong and suggestive as in the prime of life; his generous impulses were unchilled by aisheartening expe- rience. Through the trying campaign which has just closed his physical vigor, his tact, his intellectual activity surprised even those who knew him best, and seemed to promise many years of use- fulness. Looking at what he might yet have ac- complished, we wonder at the mysterious dis- pensation of Providence that takes him away while his faculties are still unwearied. Remember- ing what he has already done, we stand with bowed head beside the open grave, and thank the Good. Master who has permitted his servant to complete so much of his great labor, and to reap so many of its fruits, For, after all, though detraction and disappoint- ment and domestic sorrow may have clouded his last days, this was the happy ending of a noble career. “My life,” said he, some years ago, “has been busy and anxious, but not joyless. Whether it shall be prolonged few or more years I am _ grateful that it has endured so long, and that it has abounded in op- portunities for good not wholly unimproved, and in experiences of the nobler as well as the baser im- pulses of human nature.” The record of what he has done for the industry, the education, the gen- eral culture and the social improvement of his country, as well as the story of what he has accom- plished in guiding Its political destinies we may leave to an impartial posterity. It is too soon, perhaps, to judge correctly how great has been his share in moulding the public sentiment which dictates laws, chooses Presidents, creates armies and con- trols public events; but it is certain that no history of the most critical period in our national life can ever be writven in which Horace Greeley shall not be aconspicuous figure. Enormous as his personal influence was in politics for the better igs oa generation, it was not upon ti.is that in his latter years he looked back with the greatest satisfac- tion, That he had shaped the course of adminis- trations, directed the purposes of parties, created a great organ of opinion, taught statesmen to sit at his feet and Senates to listen for his approval—these were not the tests by which he would have measured his suecess, The vanity of wealth, the unreality of power, the worthlessness of popular renown— he estimated them all at their true value. The noblest career, in his eyes, was that which is given up to others’ wants, -The successful life was that which is worn out in conflict with wrong and woe. ‘The only ambition worth following was the ambi- tion to alleviate human misery and leave the world alittle better than he found it. That he had done this was the consolation which brightened his last fe and assured him he had not lived in vain. fe was a young man when he took his stand by the suffering and URS aed He was old when he saw the downfall of the barbarism against which he had battled for a quarter of a century. Honors and abuse, prosperity and reverses, were his by turn in this long contest, but his sturdy arm never faltered and his heart never failed. He took pa- tiently the buffetings of adverse fortune, and rose Jey ever had a kindly word for . THE LITTLE ONES he met in the village street, every one of whom he knew by name, and every child loved to greet him, knowing that tne greeting would be returned with a kindly smile and a gentle atting on the head accompanied by some ‘ord that made the little one feel all the happier, ‘The fact is,” said an old farmer to the writer, as he tried to conceal the tears that would unbidden find their way to the surface, “Mr. Greeley was so much like one of our own family— so humble and unpretending in his ways, that one couldn’t help taking kindly to him, and he won his way to every little one’s heart by his very smile. He loved children and they loved him.” If the gloom was deep in every house in the village, one felt it doubly so as the old homestead was ap- proached. The day was bitterly cold and, as the writer inasieigh drove rapidly trom Pleasant- ville toward THE SORROWING VILLAGE, the wind blew in keen, fitful gusts, whirling the snow from the hill tops into fleecy clouds that at times made the roadway almost invisible. There ‘was not a soul out of doors, and one would almost have been led to believe that he was in a deserted village did he not, here and there as he sped along, espy a face peering out from a shop window or through the blinds of a near by cottage. The hills looked bleak and forbidding in their white covering, and, as the horse’s head was turned toward the open gateway leading to the “Homestead” grounds, the snow- clad fields stretched out on all sides in one unbroken surface, The roadway and the field lay even together, not the trace of a footstep of man or beast anywhere, save from the street to the greenery, from out the chimney of which a little cloud pf smoke curled up lazily. There were to be seen THE OUTLINES OF HUMAN FEET, and even these were already half covered by the drifts. The silence that reigned about, broken only now and then by the deep sighing of the wind among the leafless branches of the trees, was oppressive in the extreme. ‘The grove where so many guests were made to feel so much at howe, and where so many happy hours were spent only a few brief weeks ago by the kindly host and his friends was silent too, dark and dreary-looking, with the snow about, making the dark outline of the cedars all the more drear by contrast. As the horse was reined up to the door of the old house away up on the hillside and no one came, as on previous Saturday afternoons, in cheery voice to tender a warm greeting tie desolation of the scene came upon one with all its force. And it was the same with the other house nearer the vil- lage, SILENCE EVERYWHERE and not a soul to be seen. The driver, evidently oppressed with the sad thoughts suggested by the change that had come over the place, the deserted look that everything wore as contrasted with the pleasant Saturday’s entertainments when the owner was so full of life and kmdness for all, whipped up the horse, and the sleigh was soon near the street again. In going out of the gate he pointed to a@ little house just within the fence and remarked, ‘That's the house the girls ‘used to ploy in when they were childre: I remember it well then; it looks just the same now.” The door of the little house stood ajar and the snow had piled itself within. The driver no- ticed it and remarked sadly, as if communing with bimeelf, “Those were bright days, but what a dif- ference now!’? While at = THE HOTEL OF THE VILLAGE waiting for the train tocome along the writer had ap opportunity of hearing @ great deal about the aifection and esteem in which Mr. Greeley was held by his neighbors. “He was just like one of us,” said one of the men. “He knew us all by mame, and he never acted as though he was more than we _ were. The place will miss him sadly, and the poor will miss him more than anybody else in the village. Noone can say he ever went to Horace in real want and wasn’t helped along.” In @ conversa- tion with a gentleman who had known Mr. Greeley as a neighbor for twenty years, he remarked in re- lation to his death, ‘The Saturday aiter the election I think it was Horace with Mr. Jonnson went into the Post OMice, and on reading the paper made some remark which rather startled those who heard it on account of its strangeness. When he had gone out Mr. Johnson came back and said, ‘Never mind that; Mr. Greeley is not well.’ Itis believed that he wasthen beginning to lose con- trol of his mind,” “I saw him Jast,” said another, ‘on THE DAY OF ELECTION. He was cheerful and in spirits. He was standing ht there on that st Pp. Said he, ‘Can't you hiteh up your team to the stage and take some voters who want to go to the list? 1 at first, on account of m: orses being worn ont and sick; but finally did e 'em;” and the man added, in a subdued voice, ‘Doin’ that put back the hosses a week in their sickness,and nobody has ever said nothin’ about payin’ me; but I wouldn't take & cent now, if 1 lost it hosses and everything I've got,” se remarks may seem trivial, but they only fe, to show how the villagers feel avout the death of their old friend, and how, now that he is dead, every little thing that they can remember about him comes up in their minds as a memory to be with sublime courage above disaster ; ior there was no selfish impulse in his labor, and he knew that though he <— t himself the work must go on to its final triumph, When the victory came he might have held up his hands and cried out with Simeon, “Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.’ But it was granted him to see even more than the destruction of slavery. He was to im- pi upon the policy of the renewed and purified Jnion something of his own generous and elevated character, to give an impetus to principles des- tined to work grand reforms at no distant time, to preach the political gospel of brotherhood and good will and to win before he left this world the esteem of thousands who had been hia bitterest enemies. With no vain estimate of his personal share in the progress of the past thirty years he realized how much had been — accom- plished by the warfare in which he had taken so great a part; he trusted that the agencies which he had founded would perpetuate his influence after he had passed away. Conscious, as in his secret heart he must have been, that when he was in his grave his name would prompt men to Kindly ac- tions and to noble thoughts, would moisten eyes that never saw him, and bring a quiver to strange lips, Horace Greeley was blessed in his old age with the reward of his fidelity and self-sacrifice. So,” he wrote, “looking calmly yet humbly for that close of my mortal career, which cannot be far distant, I reverently thank God for the blessings vouchsaied me in the past; and, with an awe that is not fear, and a consciousness of demerit which does not ex- clude hope, await the opening before my steps of the gates of the eternal world.” It is not for us, in the first hour of our loss, to dwell long, here, upon his character, or catalogue his virtues. To his associates and disciples the be- reavement is a grief too personal to lcave them heart for making eloquent phrases. Although for several months we have missed the in- spiration of his presence and the guidance of his wise counsel, his spirit has never ceased to animate those chosen to continue his work, and the close bond of sympathy between the chief and his assistants has never been broken. To those of us who have labored with him longest and known him best it has been a bond not only of sympathy but of tried affection. We leave his raises to the ie whom he succored, to the jowly whom he lifted up, to the slave whose back he saved from the lash, to the oppressed whose wrongs he made his own. {From the New York World.) Death of Horace Greeley. A great light of American journalism, and per- haps the most remarkable American of his period, breathed his last a little before seven o'clock yesterday evening. It has never been our lot to record a death whose surroundings and anteced- ents impressed us with sucha sense of mournful and even tragic pathos. That of President Lincoln had indeed more of the horror of a certain kind of stage effect; but it fell short of this in the affect- ing appeal it makes to the deepest sympathies of our common human nature and its power to touch those deep well-springs of feeling which are the fountain of unaffected tears. We write these sad lines with a tide of emo- tion pouring into our swimming eyes; and although it hardly becomes a man, much less 4 journalist in the discharge of his public functions, to let his feelings get control of him, we cannot dissemble the grief which takes possession of us at this aMictive termination of a great carcer, and this terrible smiting of two ingenuous young hearts, the virtuous, interesting, gifted, doubly orphaned daughters, one in the bud and the other in the opening blossom of a beautiful womanhood, who, with the little interval of a month, lose both their parents, under circumstances so fitted to crush the life out of their despaizing hearts. May God pity and bless them! In their credulous, confiding natures, their happy inexperience of the coarse ‘Ways of politics and their filial love and reverence, we may find excuses enough for the fond visions, with which their young minds were many months dazzled, of secing their father the honored head of the nation and enjoying the pride he would have felt in @ nation’s confidence. The rude dash- ing of this cup from their lips was an aMiction, but an aMiction which they could easily have borne, caring little for it in their womanly ot beyond their sympathetic grief in their father’s disappointment. More prostrating strokes were in reserve for them to darken their oung, innocent lives. The loss of a mother who faa joted on them, whose first and last thought in the long years of her physical infirmity and suffering was devoted to their welfare, filled them with such poignant grief that they no longer cared anything for the result of the Presidential election except so far as they feit its bearing on the happiness of their father. But when he is so suddenly taken from them it must be a heart of stone that does not commiserate the fate of these guileless, most interesting. un- rotected orphans. Their youth, their sex, their innocence, inexperience and attractive personal pope must cause every feeling heart to bleed them. Poor, yearning, forsaken, shorn lambs to whom the flerce winter wind is not tempered! Poor Mr. Greeley ia gome, amd po coveted appre- ciation can any longer soothe nor any censure wound him. Perhaps no human heart ever 80 yearned for sympathy or 80 eagerly coveted or ‘was 80 deeply grateful for just meereciation. No man who was 8 great power of his time was ever so far removed from the character of @ stoic. Any friend who was free soe in motives could ‘all auspicion of interested ly find the way to the inner citadel of bis gan tle heart. Though an w controversialist, he bore no malice even in the heat of potitical con- tention; and no man ever responded more warmly to the personal esteem of party, ani Even with Stephen A. Douglas his relations and intercourse rested on a eon the frankes' Reariens gare will; and there have been recen instances in which he gave his confidence to politi- cal opponents with a more trusting unreserve—if it were permitted us to mention them. But in all promising asserver of is opimons’ and his ends asserter opinions, an ni outside oF his own party could never for a moment doubt that it was their not their politics, which he tolerated. the interc! mange of courtesies between the officers of hostile » Wherein the tokens of personal esteem leave no sort of doubt that each side will do its utmost in the next day's battle. Such mutual recognitions of military ability and personal worth imply no sort of infidelity to the cause for which each party fights. Men of honor and Stable convictions are under no obligation to Geny the virtues or the abilities of their adversa- ries, The héart of the present writer was never 80 deeply touched and moved as when, amid the stray autumn leaves falling from the trees of Greenwood, while Mrs, Greeley’s coffin, with its covering of black cloth (we remember that in our boyhood, in Mr. Greeley’s native State, we never saw a coffin which was not black) was borne from the hearse to the opening of the family vault, through lines of reverent, uncovered heads—we say we can never forget the heart- breaking impression made upon us by Mr. Greeley’s fixed and most wistful look directed upon us on that mournful occasion, as if craving the deep sympathy to which our long, intimate rela- tions entitled him, and which he could not doubt that, above all the other bearers, we were ready to give to the bereaved husband and the half-orphaned, stricken daughters, the pet lambs of his fond, yearning, paternal heart, It wae the last time that his eyes and ours ever ex- changed an affectionate, recognizing look; an@ we deplore our neglect to seek him out and pour our free sympathy into his craving, re- sponsive breast, after that sad scene was over. The earnest, wistful looks he then fixed upon us ‘will never be effaced till our dying day. 'e beg that readers will pardon us for this unseemly mas- tery which our emotions have got over an habitu- ally cold pen. Something must be pardoned to the infirmity of our poor human nature. We have really no heart for the duty which is laid upon us on this occasion. If our feelings would permit us to take the ution of mere outside spectators, the fit thing for ustodo would be to make a just, uncolored estimate of Mr. Greeley’s character and career. But the circumstances of his death strike us as 80 inexpressibly tragic and affecting that we have no com- mand of our critical faculties. It is difficult to think of anything beyond the grief-inspiring spec- tacle of such a death, following so swiftly upon the great eclizee and extinguishment of, the hopes which . Greeley had good reasons for entertaining during some stages of the recent crushing canvass, ‘The stars in their courses” seemed to fight against him. He returned from that fatiguing tour in the West, in which his faculties shone out in a surprising blaze of culmi- nating LS pager to find his poor wile in the last stages of her long decline; and with a devotion like that which he felt in the days of their early, youthful love, belore time and disease had impaired her beauty or domestic trials had effaced the bloom of their first affection, he was constantly at her bedside, with the fidelity of a ministering angel, passing anxious days and gleepiess nights which, under less exigent circumstances, would have been due to repose after his recent exhaust- less labors, The strain upon his physical endur- ance and the more. tremendous strain upon his quick emotional susceptibilities was too much for him, The bow was not merely bent, but broken. The strength of a constitution never weakened by any other excesses than over- work gave way; the chances of life whicn beionged to him by hereditary longevity (both his father and grandfather lived to be upwards of eighty) were squandered; and the vessel so rudely tossed in these recent tempests was thrown upon the beach an utter wreck. It is the saddest ending of & vigorously useful life that we have ever known. We must defer, for aday or two, the estimate which might reasonably be expected of us of Mr, Greeley’s great career a8 @ journalist and his im- jody a! relations to the public life of the country. low can we proceed toa cool, critical dissection of his character while his body is scarcely yet cold in the conquering embrace of Death ? We hope to recover sufticient equanimity for this necessary task, but we do not possess it now. Had we been merely outside spectators of his lie this duty might not have been ditficult; but having been admitted to his intimate confidence, having seen him for many years in his hours of relaxation, nav- ing known every member of his family in a constant interchange of pleasant hospi- talities, it does not lie in our hearts to coolly tuke his measure as we could easily have done if we were in the position of mere outside spectators. Our grief and sympathy get the better of us, and our sorrow 1s too deep and sincere to permit us to utter an; berg 4 now but this unre- strained outpouring of our feelings. Within a day or two, when we have recovered our composure, we Shali recur to this melancholy ’ subject, and try to do justice to a great reputation achieved in our own loved profession. {From the New York Times.) Mr. Greeley’s Dea Mr. Greeley died shortly before seven o'clock last evening, and there is not a man in any part of the country who will not receive the news with sorrow. Mr. Greeley has made a great mark in American history, and his loss in journalism is one which cannot be replaced, When people spoke of the Tribune they meant Mr. Greeley, for he was the life and soul of that journal, Without him it is an empty shell. We present elsewhere a fair review of Mr. Greeley’s life. His name and reputation are no longer in any danger. Full justice will be done to him, and if he fell into errors—as who has not ’—they will not be remembered now. The incidents of his last sickness were peculiarly distressing, and, from all that we can learn, his reverses during the late campaign cannot alone account for them. Had he been successfal the probabilities are that he would not have lived, so overtaxed was his strength and so utterly broken down seems to have been his constitution. The labors and excitement of the canvass were more than his body or mind could bear. Dr. Hammond, one of the most distinguished surgeons in the land, told a reporter, on Thursday, that he had heard “Mr, Greeley became demented even before the elec- tion.” It would seem incredible that his friends should have kept this fact from the public knowledge, if we did not know that they concealed the equally important fact of hig mental aberration and fatal illness until Wednesday last. This extraordinary course is ee too characteristic of the utter lack of judgment and proper feeling which Mr. Greeley’s frienus have displayed in reference to him for months past. The lot of the surviving children of the great journalist is peculiarly mournful. Within a very few weeks they have lost both their parents. Sorrow has descended upon them as in a whirl- wind. One of them at least has beeh called upon to pass through trials, in the course of a young lite, such as are sometimes spared even those who sur- vive the allotted span of three score years and ten. To this faithful daughter, aMicted far beyond her strength and years, the heart of the American people will go out in earnest sympathy; and they will hope that if human friendship fails to alleviate her heavy sorrows she will find consolation in those immortat Leite which alone can render the burdens of this world tolerable. Although most of ve been accustomed to speak of Mr. Greeley n old man, yet if we esti- mate his life by the standard which often prevails among distinguished men, we are justified in saying that Mr. Greeley’s life came to a premature close. If medical men are right in the opinion that smoking is injurious, and that even moderate indulgence in stimulants tends to shorten life, surely the absence of those habits in Mr. Greeley should have tended to pro- long his days. It must be remembered that Mr. Greeley was much younger than man: men whose names .are associated witl his own in American political history, or who have been on the st: of public life durin, the whole or @ portion of his career. Mr. Se lived to the age of seventy-one, and Mr. Thurlow Weed still lives at the age of seventy-five. Mr. Webster was seventy when he died, and Henry Clay, to whom Mr. Greeley was devotedly attached, was seventy-five. ‘Old Ben. Wade" enjoys very fair health at the age of seventy-two, Mr. Chase is sixty-four and Mr. Sumner is only Mr. Greeley’s age. late James Gordon Bennett was seventy-one when he died and Martin Van Buren was eighty. The newly-elected Governor of New York is older than Mr. Greeley by thirteen years. we look to other countries, and turn to the men who have led very active and hard-working lives, we find the comparison goualy s iriking. M. Thiers is seventy- five. Lord Brougham lived to the age of ninety- three—no doubt an exceptional instance; but the present Premier of England, Mr. Gladstone, is sixty-three, and his great opponent, Mr. Dis- raeli, is sixty-seven, six years Mr. Grecley’s senior. Palmerston lived to the age of eighty-one, and the present Chancellor of the Exchequer, Robert Lowe, is only Mr. Greeley’s age, and is ex- pected to do a great deal of hard night work, to say nothing of his incessant attention to Oftice duties during the day. Mr. bea 2 then, cannot properly described as an old man, We cannet but think that his life might have ways be attributed his touching illness and sudden We shall not sttempt at this moment todo Justice to Mr. Greeley a6 a jagrnalis and public Man. His life is of the of the count: time has not rtially considered, me be honored in connection with the anti-siaver; - ge and with many im} jt measures which he ught for with remarkable vigor simply because he believed they were right. ito these subjects we will not now enter, for the country is scarcely rid of ihe din and turmoil of @ memorable election, in which Mr. Greeley himself ede & Memorable and an unhappy part. Histo! 8 will do justice to Mr. Greeley, and in the meanwhile hia country- men would be 8 forgetiul if tney failed pod due tribute to memory. He has been be- lore them for almost @ generation, and he has had their confidence in many trying periods of our his- iy. fat us now remember his virtues and. ‘genius, [From the New York Sun.) The Last Blow. One of the most painful and affecting circum- stances in the last days of Horace Greeley is the fact that the blow which seems to have finally overthrown his reason was struck by his own assistant in the conduct of the Tribune, Mr. White- law Reid, who had been entrasted with the control of that journal while its chief editor was engaged in the Presidential canvass, The election took place on Tuesday, November 5, and on the Thursday following, only two days afterwards, the subjoined card was conspicuously publishea in the 7ridune :— ‘The underal tho editorship of the Prine, which he reli ed_on embarking In another line of business six months ago. Henceforth it shall be ius en- to make this 2 thoroughly independent journal, freating all parties and Dolltical movements with judicial candor, but courting the ee depro- cating the wrath of Ho one. 4 ir he can hereafter, say anything that will $end to heartily unite tne whole American people on the broa platiorin of universal amnesty and impartial suffrage he Will gladly do so. |For the prevent, however, he can best commend that consummation by ‘silence and forbear- ance. | The victors in our late struggle can hardly inil to take the whole subject of Southern rights and ‘wrongs into carly and earnest consideration, and to them, tor the present, he remits it. Since ho will never again be a candidate for any office, and isnot in full aecord with either of the great parties which have hitherto divided the country, he will be able and will endeavor to give wider and steadier regard to the progress of science, industry and the useful arts than I can do; and he will not he provoked bitter personalities which are the recognized bane of journalism. Sustained by a generous public, he will do his best to make the Zribunc a power in the broader fleld it now contemplates, as, when human freedom was imperilied, it wasin the arena of political partisanship. Respectfully, HORACE GREELEY. New Yor, Nov. 6, 1872, In this card there is nothing to indicate mental derangement. On the contrary, it is the language of one somewhat depressed, perhaps, by a great Political disappointment, but yet in the full pos- session of his intellectual faculties and uttering himself in manly and not discoui language. But on the same day with this card, and following aiter it im the editorial columns of the same paper, Mr. Whitelaw Reid published the subjoined aston- ishing article :— CRUMBS OF COMFORT. There has been no time until now within tne last twelve years, when the 7'riune was not supposed to keep, for the benotit of the idle and incapable, # sort of tedera employment agency established to get places under gov ernment for those who were indisposed to work tor their living. Any man who had ever voted the republican ticket believed that it was the duty and the privilege of the editor of this paper to get him a place in th» Custom House. Every red-noved politician who had cheated at the caucus and fought at the polls, looked to the editor of he Trihuae to secure his appointment as gauger, or $ army chaplain, or as Minister to France. Every campaign orator cime upon. us after the battle was over for & recommendation as Secretary of the Treasury or the loun of halt adollar. If one of our party had 2n in terest pending at Washington the editor of the Tribune was telegraphed in frantic haste to come to the Capitol, save this bill, crush that one, promote one projector stop another, He was to be everybody's friend, with nothing to do but to take care of other folks’ business, sign papers, write letters and ask favors for them, and to get no thanks for it either. Four-fitths of these people were seut away without what they wanted, only to become straightway abusive enemies; it was the worry of life to try to gratify one demand in a dozen for the other fifth. he man with two wooden legs congratulated himself that he could never be troubled with cold feet. It is a source of profound satisinction to us that office seekers Will keep aloof from a deteated candidate who has not influence enough at Washington or Albany to get a sweeper appointed under the Sorgeant-nt-Arms, or deputy sub-ussistant temporary clerk into the paste-pot section of the folding room. At last we shall be let alone to mind our own afluirs and manage our own newspaper without being called aside every hour to help lazy people whom we don’t know, and to spend our strength in efforts that only benetit people who don’t deserve assistance. At last we shall keep our office clear of blatherskites and political beggars and go about our daily work with the satisfac- Hon of kuowing that not the most credulous of, place: hunters will suspect us of having any credit with the appointing powers. That Is one of the results of Tues- day's election, for which we own ourselves profoundly grateful. ‘This article was read by Mr. Greeley, as by man; other sane persons, with horror and disgust. It Was in effect a gross insult to the millions of voters who only two days before had given him their suf- frages, and to the many distinguished and patri- otic gentlemen, democrats and republicans, who had_ cordially and unselfishly Ai ported him throughout the canvass. 0 nan felt this more Soden 3 than Horace Greeley, and his first act was to go down to the Tribune office and write a disclaimer utterly deny- ing any responsibility for this. article. He had never been consulted respecting it; he had never seen it; he had no idea that anything of the sort was to appear; and in every respect he repudiated the sentiments and the language of the article. ‘This disclaimer was sent 4 by Mr. Greeley to the printing office to be publishew next day at the head of the Tribune's editorial columns; but after he had left the office, Mr. Whitelaw Reid suppressed it and would not allow it to appear. ie next day Mr. Greeley did not come down to the Tribune ofiice, but he sent another paragraph containing a similar disclaimer, and this paragraph was also suppressed by Mr. Whitelaw Reid. When tt is remembered that Mr. Greeley had not only gone brah og the herculean labors and excit- ing agitation of the canvass, but had for weeks been in almost sleepless attendance at the bedside of his dying wife, is it Sorrel that this refusal of his own subordinate to allow him to disclaim in the Tribune sentiments which were repugnant to his heart and most injurious to his reputation should have been followed by disorder of his mind and the collapse of all the physical stamina which still remained in his constitation. {From tne } few York Star.] Death of Mr. Greeley. Horace Greeley is dead. The venerable journalist breathed his last at ten minutes to seven P. M. yesterday, at the residence of Dr, Choate, Pleas- antville, N. Y. His death was expected, and, as we announced yesterday, the duration of his life was but the question of a few hours, At five P. M. he was conscious for a few minutes, rallied, and spoke to those around him. His last words were :— T rejoice, for I know that my Saviour liveth and he then gave uj busy life” that has been ure and useful to his fellow man. The news of his leath will, we are sure, be received with sorrow; for he had many friends and but few enemies, In olitics many differed from him, and he has fought ard and bitter fights; but death sweeps all un- eet memories of these away, and we see in im to-day the upright, nonest citizen, laboring for the good of his country and mankind. We can say with tens of thousands this morning, ‘Poor old man; we are sorry he is gone.” {From the Evening Telegram. Death of Horace Greeley. Atten minutes to seven o’clock yesterday even- ing Horace Greeley died. The moment came at last when Death bore away in triumph the life for which affection and science had been vainly bat- tling, and to-day the whole nation mourns over the great loss which it has sustained in the death of Mr. Greeley, journalist, philosopher, politician, gentleman. ‘The qualities of Mr. Greeley’s mind were of too lofty a nature to admit of hasty notice. The time will come when a proper estimate of the man will be made by one qualified for the task. Now we can but praise and mourn. In the shadow of death the virtues of the deceased shine transcendently forth and invite the admiration of the worla. His life was one of sturdy struggle. From early boyhood he has had to breast the waves, and win through hard struggle the place which he gained at last, Then, it would be thought that if ambition had anything to do with his efforts surely it was satiated; but the moment came in which the political philosopher was called upon to lead a great national movement in the affairs of the nation. At one time the skies were blue, the prospect cheer- ing and success seemed to smile upon the liberal cause, But defeat came—a crushing, overwhelming defeat. The strong man went down before it as the pine does before the Wintry blast. The death of his wife and the weeks of watching which he had passed at her side had their effect, it is true, but certainly never cut to the soul of the great man so much as did this complete overthrow of his political hopes. Horace Greeley, if elected on the 6th of November, would have, in all probability, enjoyed many more years of life; Horace Greeley, defeated, lies The very circumstances of the case show how acutely the misfortune must have come home. The great journalist had devoted all his political life to championing the cause of the negro; but in the very first instance where he needed the negroes’ support he was so totally ignored by that class that the bitter cup of defeat acquired a more acrid taste than if his disappointment were caused by his own former party. He had aright to expect that the freedmen, whom he had battiea for with voice been spared many hap but for the terrible strain upon his constitution which the recent cam- paign occasioned. We fear we only express the simple truth when we say that Mr. Greeley died of “liberal repubdlicanism.” There is little reason for those who admired or loved him to respect the phan- tom of that monstrous fraud which deceived Mr. Grecloy's wetier judgment, amd to which Will al- and pen while they were in bondage, would by Treason o1 the simplest operation of gratitude, ac- cord him some support when he needed it. The time came to test the question, and then Mr. Gree- ley found that the race had once more shown how deficient in mental properties they were by their wholesale butchering of the cause of the one man who had done more for them than perhaps tne Phalanx of tors who had marched under the banner of barb sank into the soul. From the mot after the election Mr. was a G less im the hearts of his countrymen. The | tai bs fe as his has been cannot but life we honored and admired the man, and when he was called upon to lead a new movement iy American Dolitica we supported his claims, In th we mourn his loss, and think it years will elapse before the nation is | ft hoe ges | son, at once 80 ponte 08 mod and riliias 80 widel known and so much Peapected. Ws aNd - (From the Evening Express.) Another Light Put Out. The death of Mr. Greeley, foreshadowed on Fri- day morning, took place in the evening. It seems but yesterday that we rode in the same carring? with him to Greenwooa, following the remains of another great editor. He seemed then—and it was some time after his nomination for the Presidency—vigorous in intellect, strong | in body, wonderfully clear in bis memory of past events, and certainly as little likely to die soon as any in the funeral cortége of Mr. Bennett, He bore his honors gracefully, was modest amidst the constant attentions of the passing crowds, and in this spirit {t seemed to us that he passed through the whole of the trying canvass for tne Presi- dency. ' He neither said nor did a foolish thing, though im hig Western canvass, in one day he made no’ tess than ~ eighteen Speeches, and in another twenty-two. He went on this laborious tour at the request of personal friends and of those who nad charge of his political canvass. He spoke upon all ‘subjects, and with dignity, prudence and wisdom. He uttered not one word wanting in respect to the President, and said nothing olfensive or personal of leading men in oMce, though earnest enough in o; jing what he believed to be error of 0; inion ani conduct. In his visit to New England, save once, and then to repel personal attacks upon bis character, all pol- itics were avoided. He met there General Grant's Secretary of the Navy. Both Spake from the same peor, and Mr. Greeley with s0 much good umor as to compel the respect and secure the good feeling of those most opposed to his election. The intensity of ieeling created in the long can- vass, the constant invective and hostility, bitter- ness of speech, followed by the grossest of carica- tures, charges of imbecility and treason; the speech made at Pittsburg tortured into hostility to Union sailors and soldiers who served in the civil war, as well as disunion; old friends alien- ated and fierce in their personal opposition, dishonored in .name by some whom he loved and had served, betrayed by others who first bade him arcrpees, and then deserted to the other side—Mr, Greeley was not able to bear this struggle unmoved. le was the target for six months for the most powerful presses and politi- clans, to the most venal journal and camp followers, and few men can stand a constant fire Tike this in front and rear, especially when it comes from old associates and Ilfelong friends. fhe nomination which brought this fire upon him he did not seek, nor did he ask the co-operation of the great democratic party which he had always opposed, which had always opposed him, but which gave him their support from these two considtrations :— First, he had the courage to oppose men and mea- sures of his own party, in all that he considered wrong, and secondly, the democratic party were heartily in sympathy with his earnest efforts to ge- cure, from the close of the rebeilion, peace at the South, amnesty for the Southern’ leaders, and, indeed, all the ideas embodied in the Cincin- nati platform. Over the dead body of Mr. Greeley it may be said that in this coalition or fusion there was nothing dishonorable to either side; there never was and never can be any good reason why men who think alike should not act alike, nor any od reason why those who agree upon great ques- Hons essential to the time may not put minor topics aside, as was done at Cincinnati and Balti- more, in remitting the tariff! to Congress, which alone has power over all questions of revenue, Of Mr. Greeley’s career, for forty years, as a journalist in this city, thirty-one years of it on the Tribune, we do not propose to speak, as ail this was discussed at length and frequently in the re- cent canvass. ASaman, he had, as most great men have, marked faults, mingled with great virtues. Noman ever possessed greater intelli- pence or industry in his profession. He was honest in character, earnest in the assertion of truth, bold in the denunciation of error, and clear as light in the illustration of all subjects upon which he wrote. He was a great instructor from the platform, but Without magnetism in his speech and no orator. His English was of the very best, written or spoken, concise, compact and logical. If he imitated any- body in writing of mself or upon plan subjects, it was Benjamin Franklin; and at times he reminde us of the vigorous thought and words of Thomas Paine and Cobbett. He believed in hard words and hard blows, but, as in his two remarkable papers dis- solving the partnership with Seward, Weed & Co., and in his reply to the summons of the Union League for pecoming bail for Jefferson Davis, be siways had a reason for the faith that was in him. He was impulsive and often eccentric, but in this line not at all what his enemies often represented him to be. His gen- erosity was only limited by his means of giving, and if not always wise it was always from the heart and intended for good. It 1s no dis- paragement to the living or to the memory of the dead to say that for thirty years he has been, as a writer of power and infiuence, at the head of the journals of the country, and there are few indeed in the profession among the thousands who survive him who will not own his worth and regret his loss. His last words were, “I know that my Re- deemer liveth.” This is Knowledge indeed—the er of the invisible world to human eves in this tabernacle of flesh; the hope of immortality; the sight of one who knows, not in part, but as he is known, nor sees through the glass darkly, but, pane beyond the river of life, there sees face to lace the One altogether lovely, in tfc person of the Son of God. How true, then, it is amid this Providence which we call a calamity, it is the survivor dies, and that misfortunes come not finaly, but in battalions! In a brief month two loving daughters are made or- phans. The little son and brother who was the great pride and ardent hope of father and mother Jong ago led the way to ‘‘the undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveller returns.” These now rest from their labors, leaving our deepest sympathies for those who for a time only are left alone in the world. “May God temper the winds to his shorn lamba.” {From the Commercial Advertiser.) Horace Greeley. The whole land is saddened by the intelligence of the death of this distinguished man, and as the tidings make the circuit of the globe, under every sky. there will be many to deplore a death which to human ken seems so untimely. Mr. Greeley had actu- ally no enemies. There were those who condemned or criticised or smiled at his theories and his works, but the man was the centre of no great and settled dislike. The almost unanimity with which his life-long political foes, forgetting the sharp conflict he had persistently waged against them, came to his support in the lute election cam- paign is a singular illustration of the truth of ourremark. There was much in him to win the affection and esteem of others. His life was pure. He was thoroughly alive to every appeal of charity and every claim that suffering or out- raged humanity might prefer. He always cham- pioned decency and good order, His pen and tongue never purposely countenanced wrong. Be- sides this, he was frank and outspoken in his judgments, whether of praise or condemnation, No man failed to know precisely where Horace Greeley stood, or failed to comprehend the pitn and persistence of whatever war- fare he waged. It is as an editor and a controversialist that Mr. Greeley is best known to the world. Ardent and impulsive, ne early took sides on almost every subject of debate, and to some of the positions ne then assumed he has clang with unabated ardor and steadi- ness. His judgment has been most at fault on social questions, but during the last fewyears his opinions on these topics have been more closely in accordance with those that are ordinarily ac- cepted, But upon the questions of hag al al Protection and Slavery he has never departed from his first convictions, and these during a long and busy life he has contended for with a force and vigor, a fertility of resource and a plenitude of illustration never bt ge And it was precisely here that Mr. Greeley waa chiefy conspicuous, He was & master of the English language. Noone ever commanded a choicer or richer diction. He was eminently forcible and pithy. His arguments were strong, Compact and earnest, and his pungent Paragraphs were ever pervaded by a flavor of aged that we them raciness and zest. it wi Mr. reeley’s desire and aim to great newspaper in all respects abreast of the feat currents of thought and influence. The claims of politics had thwarted and shackled this purpose, but when, after the fatal Sth of November, he returned to his old chair in the Tribune office, he give wider and steadier regard to the 88 of science, industry and the an & partisan journal could dd,” and, “sustained by @ generous public, he would do his best to make the Tribune a power in the broader field it now contem- plates.” Undoubtedly in the future Mr. Greeley would have given such direction to his journal a8 would have made it a power in the new field he pro ed to Occupy. But right here, at the close of is fey contentious career, and at the dawn of what he promise’ shoald be a new life, he is cut down long before his usefulness had ended, and when years of industry and activity spread out be- fore him. At the age of sixty-one, with @ con- t stitution utterly uncontaminated by ludulgeace, {From the Evening Post.) Horace Greeley. The news of the deathof a man 80 univemaiy known and who has so recently fled so large @ space in the public sight as Horace Greeley is @ visible shock to the whole community. Coming suddenly and unexpectedly, it brings to many people almost that semse of per- sonal bereavement which is always felt im the loss of a familiar presence, while to many others who were warmly attached to him it doubt- less comes as a sorrow almost without mitigation. ‘Phere are others, however, of more self-possession and calmer judgment, who, knowing Mr. Greeley well, will look upon his death as a natural conse- quence of foregone conditions and one that can be hardly said to be unexpected, and which, in- deed, was looked forward to as probable in a near future after the events of the past summer, Among these persons are to be classed, no doubt, if not all medical men, certainly ali those in the least acquainted with Me. Greeley’s constitution and the conditions of ‘ns Ufe, for, these being given, the most natutal con." clusion was a speedy death to follow all that he haa gone through during the last Summer. So far rom there being anything unusual in hia death, it is an event which “has its constant and common alle}, on that alone which makes it striking ist his seemingly sudden conclusion to a remark: career at its most conspicuous period. Mr. Greeley’s merely animal constitution was one of it strength, and had he lived as hia father did, the tranquil life of a quiet farmer, he also would doubtless have lived to near a hundred Years of age. His habits have also been ati regular and temperate, and we suppose he has never known any thing of those ordinary disorders to which most men are accustomed. So far as his mere physical constitution was concerned, he was capable of immense endurance and immense wear and tear. His weakness, then, was not in the “noble entrails,” as the vital organe of the trunk are called by an old writer, but in the seat of the intellectual nature. We recognize the propriety of the rule of sparing anything like a critical analysis of the character of & man who is just dead, and it isno departure from this rule. we think, to recognize the fact, which Mr. Gree- ley’s dearest friend would not think of ignoring, that he was a man of altogether peculiar and eccentric qualities. The weak spot of his constitu- tion, and where disease fastened itself when oir- cumstances occurred which were destructive ofe healthy condition of the seat of the moral and in- tellectual faculties, was the brain, Perhaps his very peculiarities and eccentricities were the result ofan original weakness in thé substance of some por- tion of the brain, just as some men have a weak spot in the lungs which always threatens them with consumption, But, however this may be, the fact is evident that, whether from natural causes or too much use, the brain in Mr. Greeley was that organ which, under excessive strain, would give way. Those familiar with his4ife know that this is not the first time death has threatened him irom the same cause. ‘The strain upon him for the six months from May to November has been simply tremendous. His desire to be successful in the canvass was nos only intense, but in it was concentrated all the longings, all the ambition, all the dreams of his life, Inasmuch as success now would bring him the gratification of all that desire for distinction and all the love of power that ever in his whole life had moved and governed him. Whether he would not have died all the same if he had been chosem President will be a curious question for the physicians; but certainly that tendency to infam- mation of ‘the brain, which belongs to the larger portion of those devoted to intellectual pursuita, and to which he was peculiarly liable, inevitable under the strain and intense ex- cltement of the cernpeten, and undoubtedly was “26: gravated by the death of his wife, It is ia that Mr. Greeley expected, even after State elections, to be chosen President; but whether this be true or not, he did expect it through the Summer. The reaction that followed all these labors and all these hopes—labors which, unhappily, his great physical strength made him capable of without mere physical exhaustion, and hopes the intensity of which not many men can conceive—was necessarily very great. ‘The brain gave way; the inflammation disorganized his whole system, and he sunk, as men ot less note so often do, where a chronic tendency to disease of the brain becomes, by some sudden calamity or great emotion, an acute attack from which there is ne possible recovery. . Probably no man could have died at this moment in this country, perhaps in the word, whose death would have produced a more profound sensation. Few men have appeared in our history whose lives and characters could be regarded as more characteristic of the peed influence of our social and political civilization than his life and character. Of obscure parentage, hum- ble in circumstance, without other education than that Imited and elementary kind which is gained by severe effort in the midst of exhaust- ing daily labors, he was yet able to lift himself to the front rank of a highly intellectual professiot to become the adviser and counsellor of the most distinguished statesmen of his day, to be recog- nized as a leader of popular opinion, and to re- ceive, finally, from a large class of his fellow citi- zens, the highest honor that they could bestow upon him—a nomination to the Chief Magistracy of the country. Without family, money, friends or any of the usnai supporters by which men are helped into eminence, Mr. Greeley won his place of influ- ence and distinction by the sheer force of his im- tellectual Speed and the determination of his char- acter. By good natural abilities, by industry, ay temperance, by sympathy with what 1s noblest best in human nature and by earnest purpose, the ignorant, friendiess, unknown printer's boy of a few years since became the powerful and famous journalist, whose words went to the ends of the earth, affecting the destinies of all mankind. The great misfortune of his life was its greatest distinction—his nomination at Cincinnati—a dis- tinction most unfortunate for him, not merely that it was the proximate cause of his death, but that it unquestionably served to render him less popular or to show that he was less popular than he waa supposed tobe. Who can tell how much this alse may have served to shatter altogether that over- worked brain ? PROMINENT TRAITS. was Early Incidents of His Life and the Scenes af the Close. [From the New York Tribune.] MR. GREELEY AND THE TRIBUNE, The cardinal idea of Mr. Greeley in the establish- ment of the Tribune was the publication of a jour- nal which should be equally free from narrow par- tisanship and timid neutrality. He took his stand on the independence of the daily press, Avoiding the fierce intolerance of party spirit on the one hand and # tame servility to pub- ic opinion on the other, he aimed to hold @ position between those extremes, expressing his convictions with frankness and promptitude on all public measures, but not avoiding the exposure of errors on the part of those with whom in the main he agreed. With these views Mr. Greeley had com- pletely identified his name with the influence of this journal. To secure its beneficent power was the chief purpose of nis life. No prize, in his estima- tion, was of such precious worth ag its efficient action in aid of sound and lofty principles, of the advancement of truth in religion and science, of the liberal education, the material prosperity and the so@ial happiness of the whole American people, On this occasion the tender pathos and solemn wisdom of his own words render other expressions inappropriate. vapor; populari an accident; riches take wings; the only earthly certainty is ob- livion; no man can foresee what a da; may bring forth; while those who cheer to-day often curse to-morrow; and yet I cherish the h that the journal I projected and established will ye Sao erie ra bainga : oo a ten dust guided by a larger wis- dom, @ more unerring sagacity to discern the right, though not by @ more unfaltering readinesa to em! and defend it at whatever cost; and that the stone which covers my ashes may bear te future eyes the still intelligible inscription— “Founder of the New York yt HIS DOMESTIC CHARACTER—THE BOY. Prominent as were the relations of Mr. Greeley with the public no one can fully comprehend nis character withgut foliowing him into the retire- ments of private and domestic life. He was a man of singular purity of mature. No foul word or un- seemly jest was ever permitted to escape his lips. He cherished the strongest attachment to the ties of family and home. No man had a keener sense of the power of kindred blood. His domestia tastes had the force of @ passionate instinct. His devotion to his invalid wite through years of pro- tracted suffering exhibited the character of a religious sentiment. The innate poetry of his nature was concentrated is is children. His love for the “glorious boy,” whose early death was a perpetual gre, seemed less like @ reality than aromance. This child, whose radiant beauty ‘was never equalled in “the sunshine of pic- ture,”’ cannot be forgotten in any remembrance of the father. His sweet and gracious nature was ne Jess attractive than his personal love! sudden death, nearly twenty-five years let feeling Of loneliness and desolation upon the heart of Mr. Greeley for which the lapse of years brought ath,” he th oie no assuaging influence. “When len writes of humseif, “the struggle ended wil