Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1879-06-25
Greeley and TAYLOR.

The following chapter of autobiogra-
ply, detailing the commencement Of
the lifelong friendship between those
distinguished men, Horace Greeley and
Bavard Taylor, is part of a letter from
the latter to the Tribune soon after the
death of Mr.. Greeley:
"My own intercourse with him (Hor-
ace Greeley, though often interru pied
by absence or divergence of labor, was
frank at the start, and grew closer and
more precious every year. In all my
experience Of men, [ have never found
one whose primitive impulses revealed
themselves with such marvellous purity
and sincerity. His nature often seemed
to me as crystal-clear as that of a child.
In my younger and more sensitive DAYS
he often gave me a transient wound
but such wounds healed without a scar,
and | always found they came from
the lance Of physician, not from the
knife OF an enemy.
II first saw Mr.. Greeley in June, 1874,
when was boy Of 10. I applied to
him for an engagement to write letters
to the Tribune from Germany His re-
ply was terse enough, mo descriptive
letters" he said, II am sick of them.
When you have been there Ii ng enough
to know something, send to me, and if
there is any thing in your letters, I will
publish them" waited nearly year.
and then sent seventeen letters, which,
were all published. They were shallow
enough, [ suspect; but what might they
not have been without his warming.
Toward the end Of 1847, while I was
engaged in that unfortunate enterprise
of trying to establish weekly paper at
Ph1nixvile. Pa, 1 wrote to him-fore-
seeing the failure Of my hopes-asking
his assistance in procuring literary
work in New York. He advised me
las l suspect he had advised thousands
Of young men), to stay in the country,
and year too long; so another month
found me in New York, and in his
Office, with my story Of disappointm ent,
and my repeated request for his favor
able influence. II think you are mis-
TAKEN" he said; "but will bear you in
mind, if l hear Of any chance"
Six weeks afterward to my great sur
prise (for supposed he had quite for
gotten me) he sent for me and offered
me place on the Tribune I worked
hard and necessarily during the sum-
mer of 1848, hearing never word of
commentator or encouragement; but
one day in October, he suddenly came
to my desk, laid his hand on my shout
der, and said: You have been faithful
but now you need rest. Take weeks
holiday, and 60 to New England" I
obeyed, and found on my return that
he had ordered my salary to be increas-
ed.
I think none Of his associates at that
time ever wrote a line he did not criti-
cally read. His comments sometimes
seemed rough, but they were always
wholesome and almost invariably just.
Once he called me into his room,
pointed to poem Of mine which had
just appeared in literary magazine,
and abruptly asked: "Why did you
publish that gassy stuff" My indigna-
ton was even greater than my astonisn-
ment. [ retorted fiercely: "Mr
Greeley, I should feel hurt by your
question, if [ had any respect, whatever,
foryour judgment in regard to poetry!''
He smiled sad. forgiving smile, and
said nothing. Years afterward, I saw
that he was right; the poem was only a
piece Of something rhetoric, for which
''gassy" was perhaps a coarse but GER
tainly not an inappropriate epithet. In
this, as in other respects, the dist pline
he subjected me to was excellent; if not
the result of intellectual perception il
manifested an instinct even more re.
markable.
Two pictures. equally illustrative Of
the man, remain with me from that
first year. One, an afternoon in the
little editorial Office under the roof; Mr.
Greeley bending over the yellow trans
fer-paper on which the Geographic dis
pathes were written. The light from the
window fell on the top of his bald head
which presented its full circumference
to me as he leaned down. [ was look
ing at it vacantly, when [ saw fiery
scarlet flush rise from his neck and tenn
Piles like wave, and flood the white
crown. The next moment he rose
threw back his head and uttered fear
full shrek. For d minute, nearly,
thought him mad. He flung his hands
| up and down and cried: cit has
comet" and laughed in half-delirious
ecstacy. 1t was the news of the passage
of the WilmOt proviso.
Another day, his little son Arthur
whose exquisite features, blue eyes ano
golden hair, remain in my memory as
more angelic apparition than any
cherub face which Raphael ever paint
ed, came into the Office to meet him or
his return from a journey. When he
saw the boy he gave a similar shrek
caught him under the arms, tossed him
aloft, and finally clasped him to hi
breast with wordless outcry of pas
sionate love and joy, so intense that
almost shuddered to hear it. I the1
felt that I had caught one OF the clews
to 8 correct understanding of his Ma
ture; that he was lowered with a love
of love-" which, in the reticent world
| feels itself to be something akin t.
weakness, and often feigns it's opposite
in order to mask its presence.