Arizona weekly journal-miner., 1894-02-14
George W Chnd..

PREScorr, Feb. l3.- Mir Editor "Peace hath her victories no less renowned than war" The truth of this trite old sentence finds lorcible illustration in the death of this great and good man. Inheriting no title. nor wealth, nor illustrious name; bedecked with no star of military glory, crowned with no laurel wreath of great civil office; yet George W. Childs, on the day of his death. was loved and admired perhaps by more people than any other American citizen.
 Born of humble parents iD the beautiful city of Baltimore, in May. 1899, he went to Philadelphia when a frieudless. penniless lad of only fourteen. For long years he worked at a mere pittance of a salary commencing at only three dollars week. But small as were his ear niugs. he never owed a dollar that he did not pay. What a lesson is this to the lads and youths O. to- day. Polling silently, patiently near by and catching inspiration from Old Independence Hall- within hearing of the old Liberty Bell-he became, at the full olos- som of manhood, one of the grand est and most benevolent men. and the model editor of his age. No wounded character ever writhed in sleepless agony over the gall and venom of his pen, aud no worthy printer ever went unrequIted from his sanctum. The beautiful Print CTS Home" at Colorado Springs- builded largely by his munificence and the beautiful Printers Cemetery" at Philadelphia where the worn-lut printer may tranquilly sleep the dreamless sleep, that knows no waking these are en- during monuments of his noble de- votion to the craft. His benefac tions. however. were not confined to his brother printers; his great soul broke responsive to the sweet music of benevolence in all lands and climes. Where others SPOKE charity, he ACTED; and, like the immaculate One. he literally went about doing good often his right hand not Knowing what his left hand did. Wonder at Stratford-on-Avon is a sweet-howing fountain, erected by Mir. Childs. in honor of Shake speare, whose universal and immor. tai genius was not brighter than its crystal waters. And there, in St. Margaret's church, at Westmin ster, is the grand memorial window to Milton, the blind god of poetry; and. in Westminster Abbey is like memorial to Herbert and Cowper. And then the monuments and tab lets to E lgar Allen Poe aud Leigh Hunt and Proctor. An. if the boundless charity and love of George W. Childs could have got ten physical possession of Poe. with his marvellous genius, before the night of eternal despair settled on him, there would have been other Ravens than the one that cried "Never more.'
 Great men-great in different spheres-often gravitate towards each other; eagles do not soar with other birds. Grant, the great sol dier-the geometrician of battle, the mechanician of victory-the unedualed glory of whose death still mantles the voiceless summit of Mt. McGregor-this great Captain of History dearly loved George w. Childs; and one of his last mes sages was an assurance of death less love and esteem.
 Tenacious of no creed, Mir. Childs loved and befrieuded all religions. Boosting of no virtue, he gave prac- tical illustration of them all. Lov- ing and considerate as 8 father to an employe, his flial hand was stretched out towards the needy everywhere. And thus when be came to die, this peerlessly good man had for his chief mourner the great heart of humanity itself.
 And surely if the good deeds, which men do, live after them. the fame of this man will survive; for if the pathways of other lives have been more thickly strewn with the laurels of military glory and official honor, none have been, or will be, more richly gilded with the sweet flowers of human love and grati- tude.
 Deep for the dead the grief must be,
 Who never gave cause to mourn before. "<
 JAMES Fl. WRdHT.