Kilgorman | Page 6

have looked more radiant or more
happy in the sense of possession.
Reed laboured successfully also in another department of literature--in
journalism. For many years he wrote a non-political leading article each
week for the Leeds Mercury. His wide culture, his quiet humour, and
light, graceful touch, were qualities that gave to his journalistic work
far more than an ephemeral value. In politics Reed was a life-long
Liberal; he utterly disapproved, however, of Mr Gladstone's latter-day
policy in Ireland. Reed was a member of the Reform Club and of the
Savile Club.
In these notes I have written rather of Reed's work than of the man
himself. This is as he would have had it. There was in him a magnetic
charm that attracted all who came near him, and which bound his
friends to him as by "hooks of steel." Erect and manly in bearing, he
stepped along, never apparently in a hurry, never dawdling. One had
only to look in his beautiful face, the bright kind eyes, the high wide
brow, and to come under the spell of his winning smile, to obtain a
glimpse of the noble soul within.
A calm, strong nature his, facing the world, with all its contingencies,
bravely and with constant buoyant cheerfulness. He walked through life
with eyes and heart wide open to the joy of the world, brightening and
lightening it for others as he went. He was always ready to stretch out a
helping hand to the weak and falling ones who came across his path.

Never merely an optimist, he yet lived and died in the full, simple faith
that--
"God's in his heaven, All's right with the world."
Socially, Reed was the life and soul of any party of friends. There were
certain American student-songs which he was wont to sing with a quiet
and inimitable drollery, very refreshing to hear, and which those who
heard them are not likely readily to forget. His love of music was part
of his nature. His reposeful, wooing touch on the piano or organ, either
when he was extemporising or when he interpreted one of the masters,
expressed the inner working of his own gentle spirit. Whether in his
own family, or among friends, or in the midst of his Foundry workmen,
he was universally beloved.
A true, loyal, and friendly spirit like his was sure to have "troops of
friends." To three friends in Highgate he wrote, during his last sad visit
to Ireland, the following beautiful letter. Mrs Reed was at the moment
detained in Highgate, nursing their eldest boy, who was ill.
"Westoncrofts, Ballymoney, October 6, 1893.
"Talbot, the exile, unto the faithful assembled at the hour of evening
service at H---; to H--- the beloved banker, and S--- our brother, and
H--- our joyous counsellor, and all and sundry, greeting: peace be with
you! Know, brethren, that I am with you in the spirit; neither is there
any chair in which I would not sit, nor pipe I would not smoke, nor
drink I would not drink, so as I might be one with you, and hear your
voices. In good sooth, I would travel far to catch the wisdom that
droppeth from the lips of H---, or sit among the philosophers with S---,
or laugh with the great laugh of H---. I would do all this, and more also,
could I make one with you around the familiar hearth.
"Yet know, brethren, that I shall come presently, and strictly demand an
account of what is said and done, what mighty problems are solved,
what joys are discovered, what tribulations are endured, in my absence.
"Meanwhile, I would have you to know that I am here, not without my

teachers, for I read daily in the great missal of Nature, writ by the
scribe Autumn in letters of crimson and gold; also in the trim pages of
the gathered fields, with borders of wood-cut; also in the ample folios
of ocean, with its wide margins of surf and sand. These be my masters,
set forth in a print not hard to read, yet not so easy, methinks, as the
faces of friends. Perchance when she cometh, in whose light I interpret
many things, I shall have rest to learn more therefrom; for now I am as
a sail without wind, or a horn without his blower, or a stone without his
sling.
"Yet am I not here to no purpose. There is a certain coy nymph, 'Health'
by name, who is reported in these parts--her I am charged to seek.
Where she hides 'twere hard to say; whether on the hill-side, golden
with bracken, or in the spray of the sea, or on the bluff headland, or by
the breezy links--in all these I seek her. Sometimes I spy