St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1889-09-15
TOPICAL TALK.

The Dead Con- Seldom has the
news of the death of
gresham. public man brought
out such an expression
of genuine sorrow from all classes and
conditions of people as that which fol-
lowed the announcement of SUNSET
CoX's death. He was in the best sense
the friend of humanity: SO the high
and the low united in their lamenta-
tons when they heard he was dead.
The great men of the nation were num-
bered among his pallbearers, and yet
the most touching feature of the funeral
was the great bank of floral tributes
that came from all parts of the country.
from the postal clerks, the letter car
riers, the steamboat pilots, and others
in the humber walks of life, who for
warded these sweet memorials in re-
membrance of the services he had rem
dered them during his public career.
On his return from his Northwestern
trip, about month ago, MIR.
Cox stopped over night in this
city. Immediately after supper he
wendell his way to the GLOBE Of
HCCs WllOlC oPCnI q NOuplO VI iiOuAo
in pleasant conversation. 1t had been
his first visit to the Northwest, and he
was bubbling with enthusiasm over the
expanding glories of this region. With
that rare descriptive power of his, he
pictured in brilliant coloring the scenes
he had visited, the sights he had seen,
and what he imagined would be the
future glory of this Northwestern sec
ton when it was fully developed. Not
withstanding his enthusiasm, it was
easy to detect that Mr.. Cox was far
from being well. He looked tired, and
had the appearance of one who had
been subjected to severe nervous
strain. 1t was evident that he had
overdone himself on his trip, and sug-
gested to him that he should take a
good, long rest. when he got home, or
else he might break down. Thanking
me for the suggestion, he said: Last
winter year ago | was sick in Wash
ington, and my friends and the doctors
thought was going to die. You may
laugh at it, but I'll tell you what
brought me through. There were two
pictures hanging on the walls of my room
upon either side of my sick bed. One
was that of a life boat going out
through the storm to the rescue OF
ship wrecked upon rock-bOund coast,
while those on the shore, the relatives
of the surfmen, stand speeches. with
anxiety as to the fate of the brave men
who hazard ali for the rescue. The
other picture was that of the same life
boat coming in, laden with it's precious
freight, while from amidst the bowling
of the storm the chime of the breakers
and the dark clouds around the peetling
cliffs, the cry goes up from thankful
hearts, 'All safe! All WE'LL" Those
pictures were my inspiration. My
mind and my eyes dwelt upon them.
In my poor, sick fancy grasped the
tiller of the life boat and chung to it
with a tenacity that overcame the sink
ing heart and emaciated body. Thus it
was that pulled through, and | hope
have been saved to plead for the life
saving service in many congresses.
What glory has an aur cole so golden
as the death of man who sacrifices his
life for the salvation of others? There
are no blessings worth striving for ex-
cept those blessings which make life a
daily beauty and death an eternal beat
itude." This sentiment was spoken in
a voice of unusual tenderness and feel
ing, and tear gliStened i'll Mr.. COX'S
eye while he was talking. 1t was the
sentiment of his life, and he died in the
faith that he lived. AS he grasped my
hand for the last time his parting salu-
tatiOn was 1.-THE Lord is good"