p everything he possessed in the struggle to redeem his honor,
even the presents and trophies which had been lavishly bestowed upon
him. This savior of his country and recipient of its grateful
generosity, who was but lately the guest of the princes of the earth,
became dependent upon pitying friends for shelter and bread, until
enterprising editors of magazines began competing for contributions from
his pen.

And, as if his misfortunes were not yet sufficiently desperate, illness
came. A malignant, incurable cancer appeared in his mouth. He stood face
to face with the last enemy, the always victorious one, and realized
that the rest of life was but a few months of increasing torture. Then
the magnificent courage of his soul asserted itself in fortitude
unequaled at Donelson, or Vicksburg, or Chattanooga, or the Wilderness.
No eye saw him quail; no ear heard him complain.

It was suggested that if he would write a book, an autobiographical
memoir, the profit of it, doubtless, would place his family above want.
Nothing can be imagined more unacceptable to General Grant's native
disposition than the narration for the public of his own life story. But
in his circumstances, the question was not one of sentiment, but only of
duty to those who were dependent upon him. The task was undertaken
resolutely, and, in spite of physical weakness and suffering, was
carried on with as high and faithful energy as he had shown in any
campaign of the war. On March 3, 1885, he was restored to the army with
the rank of general on the retired list with full pay. He was glad; but
in his feebleness joy was as hard to bear as grief. He began failing
more rapidly.

In June he was taken to the sweet tonic air of a cottage on Mount
McGregor, near Saratoga. Here, in pleasant weather, he could sit in the
open air and enjoy the agreeable prospect. But whether indoors or out,
he toiled at the book in every possible moment, writing with a pencil on
tablets while he had strength, then dictating in almost inaudible
whispers, little by little, to an amanuensis. So, toilsomely, through
intense suffering, sustained by indomitable will, this legacy to his
family and the world was completed to the end of the war. His last
battle was won. Four days after the victory, he died, July 23, 1885. The
book had a success beyond all sanguine expectations, and accomplished
the purpose of its author. To his countrymen it was a revelation of the
heart of the man, Ulyss