D'ALEMBERT. 479 



ting to a surgical operation. Be that as it may, during 

 his long and painful illness his mind appeared ex- 

 hausted like his body, but the mental feebleness was 

 only apparent; for the intervals of ease which he had 

 were occupied with mathematical investigations, and 

 with other subjects that interested him. His sick- 

 chamber was attended by numerous friends, among whom 

 he alone retained his gaiety, enlivening the conversa- 

 tion with sallies of pleasantry, in which their feelings 

 would hardly let them participate. Condorcet was, 

 he knew, to write his eloge for both Academies. A day 

 or two before his death he said to him, " Mon ami, vous 

 ferez rnon eloge dans les deux Academies, vous n'avez 

 pas de terns a perdre pour cette double besogne." 

 (' Grim. Corr/) Yet sometimes the torment he endured 

 overpowered him ; and his unostentatious dislike of all 

 pretence, all acting, prevented him from concealing his 

 agony. " Nature," said he, " has left a suffering being 

 the relief of complaining." And if he ever accused 

 himself of importunately afflicting his friends by his 

 sufferings, he would say that he could hardly " conceive 

 how so feeble a creature was able to endure so much 

 without dying." The certainty of his end approaching 

 was announced to him, and he received the tidings with 

 the most absolute tranquillity. His cheerfulness re- 

 mained unbroken ; and the last words he uttered were 

 to a friend who attended his death-bed : " Do you hear 

 how my chest is filling T M. Pouque, member of the 

 Institute, communicated this interesting anecdote to 

 La Harpe. The words were addressed to him. 



The fame which D'Alembert for a long course of 

 years enjoyed all over Europe, was certainly greater than 



