BARON CUVIER. 177 



^l 111 tad great things still to do. All was ready in my head ; 



" : Aer thirty years of labour and research ; there remained 

 les f' )ut to write ; and now the hands fail, and carry with 

 ^ hem the head." M. Pasquier, almost too much distressed 



*' ,o speak, attempted to express the interest universally felt 



] for him ; to which M. Cuvier replied, " I like to think so; 



!tl I have long laboured to render myself worthy of it." In 

 J Jl the evening, fever showed itself and continued all night, 



* which produced great restlessness and desire for change of 

 te posture ; the bronchise then became affected, and it was 

 ^ feared that the lungs would soon follow. On Sunday 



* morning the fever disappeared for a short time ; consequent- 

 ly he slept ; but said, on waking, that his dreams had 

 been incoherent and agitated, and that he felt his head 

 would soon be disordered. At two o'clock in the day, the 

 accelerated respiration proved that only a part, of the lungs 

 was in action ; and the physicians, willing to try every 

 thing, proposed to cauterize the vertebrae of the neck : the 

 question, Had he right to die ? rendered him obedient to 

 their wishes ; but he was spared this bodily torture, and 

 leeches and cupping were all to which they had recourse. 

 During the application of the former, M. Cuvier observed 

 with the greatest simplicity, that it was he who had disco- 

 vered that leeches possess red blood, alluding to one of his 

 Memoirs, written in Normandy. " The consummate master 

 spoke of science for the last time, by recalling one of the first 



teps of the young naturalist." He had predicted that the last 

 cupping would hasten his departure ; and when raised from 

 the posture necessary for this operation, he asked for a glass 

 of lemonade, with which to moisten his mouth. After this 

 attempt at refreshment, he gave the rest to his daughter-in- 

 law to drink, saying, it was very delightfnl to see those he 

 loved still able to swallow. His respiration became more 

 and more rapid ; he raised his head, and then letting it 

 fall, as if in meditation, he resigned his great soul to its 

 Creator without a struggle. 



Those who entered afterwards, would have thought 

 that the beautiful old man. seated in the arm-chair, by the 

 fire-place, was asleep ; and would have walked softly across 

 the room for fear of disturbing him ; so little did that calm 

 and noble countenance, that peaceful and benevolent 



