Page:The Green Bag (1889–1914), Volume 21.pdf/602

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James Grant, a Model American sponding in time; the others arrived too late. He speeds from Denver to that distant California home and finds the aged jurist and man of affairs far spent and about to depart for that undiscovered country from which "no traveler e'er returns." He arrived on Saturday and spent most of the next ensuing forty-eight hours near the bedside of the dying uncle. He was anxious to know whether that uncle would say anything on the subject which had been always avoided by him, his religious convictions, but not once did the mind of his uncle give forth a word thereon. That he was a man of deep religious convictions there is no doubt, but the privilege he yielded to others he exercised himself, to worship God in his own way. The following passage from an address which he de livered before the Scott County Pioneer Settlers Association at Davenport on June 9, 1872, sufficiently attests that fact:— We organized society in the desert. We who survive enjoy civilization in its highest form and whatever is found to be most useful in the arts. Whatever of happiness there is in morality and in intelligence, in the school and church, in education and refinement, in constant and easy intercourse with our fel lows, in confidence and cheap transit of trade, and sale of products of labor, in the telegraph and printing press—is ours to-day and to the end of our lives. Most of the old settlers of this country survived the privations, the wants, the perils and poverty of frontier life. They endured most suffering from 1833 to 1834, but they lived to greet the dawn of a better day for themselves. They saw the bright sunshine of the rosy fleeced morn of prosperity, and lived to feel its meridian splendor on them selves and their families. Surely goodness and mercy attended them all their days and they shall dwell in the House of the Lord forever. Now, he himself was ready to join the pioneers who had gone before. His ship had sailed what time it might

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the inland seas of life, and now it was putting out again for the shining port across the immeasurable deep. The captain was not afraid. From his char acter and career, we may well believe that he held the sentiment of Tenny son's lines:— Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea. Accordingly, in the twilight of the next Monday evening, while the nephew was sitting by the bedside, the uncle alluded to the fact that he was growing weaker. Then the nephew said: "I trust not, uncle. I hope you will take a turn for the better and soon be up and in good health." "No, son," said Judge Grant, "I am dying," and with that, he extended his right hand, placed it in a friendly clasp upon the hand of his nephew, and quietly passed away March 14, 1891. He had been abashed, like Lincoln, by the multitude of creeds and formulas with which men had been pleased to hedge about the Deity, and realizing the sacredness of the relationship be tween man and his Creator, and the sanctity of life itself, he had gone about the doing of the work which he was sent to do with a hearty good will, and having achieved it, he went to his rest without any misgivings, and happily, without any apparent suffering. By his will he left a fortune amounting to more than six hundred thousand dollars to be divided between his wife, his nephews and nieces. He had lived an open-handed life, moreover, giving freely to all that asked of him, and in cluding a handsome donation to his Alma Mater. Thus was begun and continued and ended the life of James Grant, a model American.