the house filling a ditch with a hoe. It was larger, and I think it can be borrowed." Referring to some report in a newspaper, he wrote: "The has been killing me off for a year and a half. If it does not change, it will get right in time."
But these moods were few; Grant knew too well his own condition. He said also: "I have had nearly two hours, with scarcely animation enough to draw my breath. … I have little hope for sleep to-day. … I do not feel satisfied with any position. I have thirteen fearful hours before me before I can expect relief." And again: "It is postponing the event. A great number of my friends who were alive when the papers began announcing that I was dying are now in their graves. They were neither old nor infirm people either. I am ready to go at any time. I know there is nothing but suffering for me while I do live."
Dr. Shrady took leave of him after promising to be with him in the final hour, which both men knew would come soon. The General computed the time it would take for the doctor to reach his bedside, and mapped out the route and studied the various means it would be necessary to employ. He planned it as he had been used to plan his campaigns.
In a letter to Dr. Douglas he reverted again to the "providential extension" of his time, and said: "I am further thankful, and in a much greater degree thankful, because it has enabled me to see for myself the happy harmony which so suddenly sprung up between those engaged but a few short years ago in deadly combat. It has been an inestimable blessing to me to hear the kind expressions toward me in person from all parts of the country, from people of all nationalities, of all religions and of no religion, of Confederate and of National troops alike, of soldiers' organizations, of mechanical, scientific, and religious societies, embracing almost every citizen in the land. They have brought joy to my heart, if they have not effected a cure."
HIS LIFE ROUNDING TO A NOBLE CLOSE.
As his life rounded to a close, it took on epic scope and dignity. Had he died at the end of the war, he would have been a mighty hero, but the man would have been unknown. Had he died after his second administration, he would have left a name at the mercy of politicians. But to die now, after his work was done, his fame secure, was in reality glorious. He forgave the world, but there were men, old friends and subordinate officers, whom he could not invite to his side. They had broken faith with him; duplicity was to him a most hateful thing; and, being human after all, he turned his face from them. He wished them no harm, but he could not forget their perfidious deeds.
He continued to work a little on his book, for it was conceded that it could do him no harm and might relieve his suffering. The Fourth of July was a great anniversary for him. On that day he had won Vicksburg. He did not need to be reminded of it, but he did not refer to it himself; it was far from his wish to revive memories unpleasant to the people of the South. He was not of a nature to exult over the defeat of others.
A few days later there came to Mount McGregor a company of Mexican journalists, and, though suffering with special acuteness that day, the General welcomed them gladly. He received them in unwilling silence (for he could not even whisper), standing with bowed head while they said in formal terms: "We could not pass so near a great friend of Mexico without coming to pay our respects to him." They then passed before him, and were introduced. It was evident that his interest was very cordial. His face lighted up, and when they had all shaken his hand, he sat at a table and wrote this reply:
"My great interest in Mexico is dated back to the war between the United States and that country. My interest was increased when four European monarchies attempted to set up their institutions on this continent, selecting Mexico, a territory adjoining us. It was an outrage on human rights for a foreign nation to attempt to transfer her institutions and her rulers to the territory of a civilized people without their consent. They were properly punished for their crime. I hope Mexico may soon begin an upward and prosperous departure. She has the people, she has the soil, she has the climate, and she has the minerals. The conquest of Mexico will not be an easy task in the future."
In answer to a Catholic priest who called to see him, he expressed his tolerance of all creeds. When told that all denominations and sects were praying for him, he wrote: "Yes, I know, and I feel grateful. All I can do is to pray that the prayers of all these people may be answered so far as to have us all meet in another and better world." To another he wrote: "I am glad that, while there is unblushing wickedness in the world, there is compensating grandeur of soul. In my case, I have not found republics ungrateful, nor are the people."
