The Irish standard., 1898-10-29
ENDS HIS JOURNALISTIC WORK
The Newspaper World Regrets His
Premature Death.
FAITH IN CHRISTIAN SCIENCE
The Delusion Finally Sacrificed a
Brilliant Life.

The following letter to the New York
Times by II London correspondent con-
veys the intelligence that Harold Fred
eric is dead.
Uppcrmost in the minds of men who
read this Sunday column must be the
loss of that writer who week by week,
threw such steady and clear light on
the intricate maze of European affairs.
Therefore, although the air today Is
thick with rumors of war in the East
and West, | feel that for once personal
detail has Il supreme claim and that the
many thousands who miss him so kecnly
look in this place for some simple words
about those last days of Harold Fred
erie
They are not easy to write. There
WAS no false sentiment in Harold, no
parading OF sorrow, no piling up of ad-
jective to show dramatic grief. and he
himself would have condemned, in sturdy
and straight language. anything which
rang not true But the personality of
tho man was so strong, his power of in
spring loyal affection in others so great,
and his influence so genuine. wide and
varied, that it would not be easy to en-
aggerate the great shock which his too
early death has given to English hearts.
The simplest. quictcst and strongest
words which reach me today, among the
many proofs OF earnest grief, are those
Of his friend, Sir Charles Dixie, who says
with an expression Of extreme sorrow
that, "Whilc all readers of illumination
know that Mr.. Frederic was a great
writer, his friends know that he was a
true friend"
Dixie is right. His friends do know
that. Evidence of this has been horne in
on mo in the three nights since his
death, when, as his English executor, l
have had access to his papers. For ten
years have known him intimately, and
for five years II has been my happiness
to work with him, easing him of such
drndgcry as he would allow mo to do,
and that was not much as {; rule. for the
man was hungry for work and untiring.
Until the end came and the activities of
his inner life were revealed | had no
notion how wild" Was tho circle uf men
whom he had helped, encouraged and ell
llghtcncd, and how great Il heart beat un-
der an oftcntimc5 rough exterior For
Frederic WAS vastly impatient of any
Kind of sham, or slackncss. or idle in
accuracy, and would turn on any one he
thought guilty of these human weak
ncSScS Il vollcy of abuse strong enough to
drive Il London cal,man into Il monas-
terry.
Then the next moment Ii" himself was
so completely human hat he would say
some quiet. tender. iIIuminativc word
which turned the criminal into a fast
friend
He loved plain. strong Anglo Saxon
language, and could pclt fools with it
better than amy other man. And yet, il
there he anything in medical science and
the stored accumulation of centuries OF
research and learning, his intellectual
giant, after ridiculing SO much impos-
turc, FELL himself victim to what is, in
deed, Il deadly craze.
The story is now gradually moving
England to fierce rage against what is
now termed the mnrdcrous dcluson that
killed him. That great brain, which
gave us Sister Soulsby," might still have
been working, say the English doctors
but for the interference Of the creed
known as "Chriatian Science" do not
judge these sc!f-styled scientists. give
you the plain facts and The testimony of
experts. Let his own people who in
trusted him to lis, judge for themselves.
On the morning oI Aus II an urgent
telegram reached me in London, calling
me to t'rcderl"s; country house. found
him lying on his he'd evidently in great
Eain, rcCoT"rinG fiOn IL sudden and Sc
we're shock. Lifting his great right hand
to press Il gently, found it distorted,
crampod and helpless. Harold smiled
quietly through his pain and said:
"Bal go, ths Jack, but my inipot will
have Il rest"
Then The good people CT his house left
us alone, and using that strong will Of
his, which nothing could snbdue. he
slowly and clearly told me the words
he wished sent 10 the New York Times.
He had broken down in the act of writ
ing his Saturdays dispatch, and accept
for an almost illegible signature to his
will, his big right hand never wrote an
other word.
Friends, for he was dearly loved,
trooped in OH every side. Foremost
among these was an American physician,
DR.. Nathan E. Boyd, whose home for the