Last Words of Distinguished Men and Women. (continued 3)

Ken (Thomas, Bishop of Bath and Wells, author of several volumes of sermons and of some very beautiful hymns, among which is the famous Doxology. "Praise God, from whom all blessings flow"—the Protestant "Te Deum laudamus"), 1637-1711. "God's will be done."

Bishop Ken was one of the seven bishops committed to the Tower for disobedience by James II., but proved his loyalty by refusing to take the oaths to William and Mary, and was therefore deprived of his bishopric. He was a man of devoted piety, expansive benevolence, and great tenderness of spirit.—Allibone.

King (Thomas Star, Unitarian clergyman), 1824-1864. "Dear little fellow—he is a beautiful boy." This he said of his little son who had been brought in to see him.

Kingsley (Charles, clergyman, novelist, and poet), 1819-1875. "Thou knowest, O Lord, the secrets of our hearts; shut not Thy merciful ears to our prayer, but spare us, O Lord most holy, O God most mighty, O holy and merciful Saviour, Thou most worthy Judge Eternal, suffer us not at our last hour, from any pains of death, to fall from Thee."—Episcopal "Burial Service."

In the night he was heard murmuring, "No more fighting: no more fighting." Then followed intense earnest prayers, which were his habit when alone. His warfare was accomplished; he had fought the good fight; and, on one of his last nights on earth, his daughter heard him exclaim, "How beautiful God is!" The last morning, at five o'clock, just after his eldest daughter and his physician, who had sat up all night, had left him, and he thought himself alone, he was heard, in a clear voice, repeating the Burial Service. He turned on his side after this, and never spoke again.

"Letters and Memoirs of Charles Kingsley," by his wife.

Klopstock (Friedrich Gottlieb), 1724-1803. He died reciting his own beautiful verses, descriptive of the death of Mary, the sister of Lazarus. The Song of Mary was sung at the public funeral of the poet.

Knox (John, Scotch reformer), 1505-1572. "Now it is come." Some give his last words thus: "Live in Christ, live in Christ, and the flesh need not fear death."

Labédoyère (Charles Angélique Huchet de, Count and French general "noted for graceful manners and chivalrous spirit." He was charged with treason, rebellion and military seduction, and was executed as one of the "authors and instigators of the horrible plot which had brought back Buonaparte"), 1786-1815. "Above all do not miss me!"

At half past six in the evening Labédoyère was escorted to the plain of Grenelle by a strong detachment of gen d'armerie. On arriving at the place of execution, he knelt down and received the benediction of the confessor who accompanied him. He then rose, and, without waiting for his eyes to be bandaged, uncovered his breast to the veterans who were to shoot him, and exclaimed, "Above all do not miss me!" In a moment after he was no more.

Christopher Kelly: "The Battle of Waterloo."

Lacordaire (Jean Baptiste Henri, French ecclesiastic celebrated for his funeral orations), 1802-1861. "Open to me, O God!"

La Harpe or Laharpe de (Jean François, French critic and dramatist), 1739-1803. "I am grateful to Divine Mercy for having left me sufficient recollection to feel how consoling these prayers are to the dying." These are his last recorded words, and refer to the prayers for the sick to which he was attending, but later he conversed with M. Fontanes, and did not die until the next day.

Lambert (John, English teacher of languages who suffered as a martyr. His true name was Nicholson, but he changed it for greater safety in time of persecution),—1538. "None but Christ! none but Christ!"

After his legs were consumed to the stumps, two inhuman monsters who stood on each side of him pierced him with their halberds, and lifted him up as far as the chain which fastened him to the stake would reach, while he raised his half consumed hands dripping with blood and fire, and said, "None but Christ! none but Christ!"

Latimer (Hugh, early English reformer and martyr), about 1472-1555.

"Be of good comfort, Master Ridley, and play the man; we shall this day light such a candle by God's grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out."

Latimer and Ridley suffered martyrdom at Oxford at the same time, October 16, 1555.

Laud (William, Archbishop of Canterbury and favorite minister of Charles I.), 1573-1645. "Lord, receive my soul," spoken to the headsman as a signal to strike. According to some authorities his last words were: "I am coming, O! Lord, as quickly as I can. I know I must pass through death before I can come to Thee, but it is only a mere shadow—a little darkness upon nature. Thou hast broken the jaws of death."

Laud was declared guilty of treason, and executed on Tower Hill, January 10, 1645.

Laurentius ("Saint," a deacon of Rome who was roasted alive on a gridiron before a slow fire), about a. d. 258. "Assatus est; jam versa et manduca" (I am roasted,—now turn me, and eat me.) According to some authorities he said later: "I thank thee, O my God and Saviour, that I have been found worthy to enter into thy beatitude."

Lee (Robert Edmund, distinguished Confederate general, and President of Washington College, at Lexington, Virginia), 1806-1870. "Tell Hill he must come up." During his last hours his mind wandered, and he was living over again in his disordered imagination the military campaign through which he had passed.

His body lies in the mausoleum erected at the rear of the College chapel, and beside him are laid his wife and his daughter Agnes. Above the tomb, and visible from the chapel hall, is Valentine's recumbent marble figure of Lee the soldier taking his rest, with his sword sheathed at his side and his martial cloak around him.—White.

Leo X. (Cardinal Giovanni de' Medici, elected Pope March 11, 1513), 1475-1521. "I have been murdered; no remedy can prevent my speedy death." It is believed that he was poisoned.

The circumstances attending the death of the pontiff are involved in mysterious and total obscurity, and the accounts given of this event by Varillas and similar writers in subsequent times, are the spurious offspring of their own imagination.

Roscoe "Life of Leo the Tenth."

Leo X. expired upon the 1st day of December, 1521. The vacillating game he played in European politics had just been crowned with momentary success. Some folk believed that the Pope died of joy after hearing that his Imperial allies had entered the town of Milan; others thought that he succumbed to poison. We do not know what caused his death. But the unsoundness of his constitution, overtaxed by dissipation and generous living, in the midst of public cares for which the man had hardly nerve enough, may suffice to account for a decease certainly sudden and premature.

Symond: "Life of Michelangelo Buonarotti."

Lieber (Francis, German author, political refugee, and, later, Professor of History and Political Science in Columbia College, New York), 1800-1872.

On the afternoon of the 2nd of October, 1872, he was sitting quietly, listening to his wife, who was reading aloud to him as was her custom, when he gave one cry and immediately died.[27]

Perry's "Life and Letters of Lieber."

Lindsey (Theophilus, English Unitarian clergyman), 1723-1808. "No, whatever is, is best,"—said to a friend who suggested that his fortitude sprang from his recollection of the maxim, "Whatever is, is right."

Ligne (Charles Joseph, Prince de, "The Friend of Kings," author of "Commentaries on the Art of War." He was a brave and good soldier, but a great beau and dandy), 1734-1814. "Back, thou accursed phantom!" As he felt the approach of death he sprang from a recumbent to a sitting posture, and ordered the door to be closed; but finding that he could not prevent the last great enemy from entering, he gave the phantom battle; and in the midst of the conflict he threw up his arms and cried, "Back thou accursed phantom!" In a moment he was dead.

At seventy-two he was still a fop and still a gallant. "His delicately malicious and gayly ironic wit," wrote Count Ouvaroff, who knew him only in old age, "was allied with a sweetness of character and an equality of temper that were unparalleled." "Gravity only was distasteful to him, and he would always turn the conversation with a word or a nod from too serious a topic. His pride was flattered by the eagerness wherewith the curious pointed their finger at him in the street, and he was yet anxious to attract the attention which was his due. He would walk abroad in the Field Marshal's cloak, which became his youthful figure, or, still more splendid, he would drive in his gray coach, whose white horses were the wonder of all Vienna. His happiness had suffered no eclipse; his talk was as marvelous as when he astonished the Court of Versailles, and not even his wrinkles obscured the dazzle of his smile. The best of life had been his, and he waited the end in placid content, and it is in his triumph in Vienna, rather than in his cumbrous books, that you catch the last glimpse of the Prince de Ligne."

Charles Whibley: "The Pageantry of Life."

Lippard (George, American author), 1822-1854. "Is this death?" to his physician.

Lippard wrote a number of sensational novels, and a book on "Washington and his Generals." He was the founder of the once strong and useful Brotherhood of the Union, a secret charitable institution.

Lisle (Sir George, English royalist officer, taken prisoner at Colchester, where he was put to death August 29th, 1648),—1648. "I have been nearer to you when you have missed me," said to a soldier of the squad appointed to shoot him, and who had, to Sir George Lisle's request that he would not miss or merely wound him, replied, "I'll warrant, sir, we will hit you." Lisle thought the distance between himself and the firing party was too great and he wished the soldiers to come nearer to him.

Fairfax sullied his victory by an act of great cruelty. In a council of war, it was resolved that Sir Charles Lucas, Sir George Lisle, and Sir Bernard Gascoign, the governors of Colchester, should be put to death: but the life of Gascoign was spared, on account of his being a foreigner. When the other two were brought out to be shot, Lucas gave the word to fire, as if he had been at the head of his own company. Lisle kissed him eagerly after he was dead; and desired the executioners to come nearer.—The Percy Anecdotes.

Livingstone (David, distinguished missionary, traveler and discoverer), 1813-1873. His last words, which are not recorded, were about Chilanebo's village, in Ilala, and the neighboring country, and especially about the Luapula. His mind wandered, and the questions were often disconnected and indistinct, but his last thoughts were of Africa. His attendants constructed for him a rude hut, and when it was completed they took him into it and laid him upon a rough bed—the best they could procure. He spoke only once or twice during the night. Next day he lay undisturbed. He asked a few wandering questions about the country—especially about the Luapula. His people knew that the end could not be far off. Nothing occurred to attract notice during the early part of the night, but at four in the morning, the boy who lay at his door called in alarm for Susi, fearing that their master was dead. By the candle still burning they saw him, not in bed, but kneeling at the bedside with his head buried in his hands upon the pillow. The sad yet not unexpected truth soon became evident: he had passed away on the furthest of all his journeys, and without a single attendant. But he had died in the act of prayer—prayer offered in that reverential attitude about which he was always so particular; commending his own spirit, with all his dear ones, as was his wont, into the hands of his Saviour; and commending Africa—his own dear Africa—with all her woes and sins and wrongs, to the Avenger of the oppressed and the Redeemer of the lost.

So soon as the death of Livingstone was known to his men, they resolved to carry their master's remains to Zanzibar. Arrangements were made for drying and embalming the body, after removing the heart and other viscera. For fourteen days the body was dried in the sun. After being wrapped in calico, and the legs bent inward at the knees, it was enclosed in a large piece of bark from a Myonga tree in the form of a cylinder; over this a piece of sail-cloth was sewed; and the package was lashed to a pole, so as to be carried by two men. Jacob Wainwright carved an inscription on the Moula tree under which the body had rested, and where the heart was buried, and Chitambo was charged to keep the grass cleared away, and to protect two posts and a cross-piece which they erected to mark the spot.

The remains were brought to Aden on board the "Calcutta," and thereafter transferred to the steamer "Malwa," which arrived at Southampton on the 15th of April. Mr. Thomas Livingstone, eldest surviving son of the Doctor, being then in Egypt on account of his health, had gone on board at Alexandria. The body was conveyed to London by special train and deposited in the rooms of the Geographical Society in Saville Row.

In the course of the evening the remains were examined by Sir William Fergusson and several other medical gentlemen, including Dr. Loudon, of Hamilton, whose professional skill and great kindness to his family had gained for him a high place in the esteem and love of Livingstone. To many persons it had appeared so incredible that the remains should have been brought from the heart of Africa to London, that some conclusive identification of the body seemed to be necessary to set all doubt at rest. The state of the arm, the one that had been broken by the lion, supplied the crucial evidence. "Exactly in the region of the attachment of the deltoid to the humerus" (wrote Sir William Fergusson in a contribution to the Lancet, April 18, 1874), "there were the indications of an oblique fracture. On moving the arm there were the indications of an ununited fracture. A closer identification and dissection displayed the false joint that had so long ago been so well recognized by those who had examined the arm in former days.... The first glance set my mind at rest, and that, with further examination, made me as positive as to the identification of these remains as that there has been among us in modern times one of the greatest men of the human race—David Livingstone."

The black slab that now marks the resting-place of Livingstone in Westminster Abbey bears this inscription:

BROUGHT BY FAITHFUL HANDS OVER LAND AND SEA, HERE RESTS DAVID LIVINGSTONE, MISSIONARY, TRAVELER, PHILANTHROPIST, BORN MARCH 19, 1813, AT BLANTYRE, LANARKSHIRE. DIED MAY 4,[28] 1873, AT CHITAMBO'S VILLAGE, ILALA.

For thirty years his life was spent in an unwearied effort to evangelize the native races, to explore the undiscovered secrets, and abolish the desolating slave-trade of Central Africa, and where, with his last words he wrote: "All I can say in my solitude is, may Heaven's rich blessing come down on every one—American, English, Turk—who will help to heal this open sore of the world."

Along the right border of the stone are the words:

TANTUS AMOR VERI, NIHIL EST QUOD NOSCERE MALIM QUAM FLUVII CAUSAS PER SÆCULA TANTA LATENTES.

And along the left border:

OTHER SHEEP I HAVE WHICH ARE NOT OF THIS FOLD, THEM ALSO I MUST BRING, AND THEY SHALL HEAR MY VOICE.

Blaikie's "Personal Life of Livingstone."

The late E. J. Glane, who crossed Africa in the interest of The Century, makes the following entry in his journal:

July 9. To-day I revisited the tree where Livingstone died, and in order to guide others to the exact spot, in case this tree should disappear from any cause, I selected another big tree likely to last many years, cleared away two and a half square feet of its bark, and in the space marked as follows: "This tree is magnetic southwest of the tree where Livingstone's remains are buried, and is forty-five paces from it." I brought away a bit of the bark of the memorable tree—a dead part, so as not to be guilty of vandalism.[29]

Livingstone's grave is in a quiet nook, such as he himself desired, in the outskirts of a forest bordering on a grass plain where the roan buck and eland roam in safety. When I visited the place turtle-doves were cooing in the tree-tops, and a litter of young hyenas had been playing near by; in the low ground outside the hole leading to the cave were their recent tracks; they had scampered into safety at our approach.

Locke (John, author of the celebrated "Essay Concerning the Human Understanding"), 1632-1704. "O, the depth of the riches of the goodness and knowledge of God!"

Some authorities say his last words were, "Cease now;" to Lady Masham who was reading to him a Psalm of David.

Longfellow (Henry Wadsworth), 1807-1882. "Now I know that I must be very ill, since you have been sent for," said to his sister who came from Portland, Me.

His last written lines (nine days before his death) were:

Louis I. (Louis le Débonnaire), 778-840. "Huz! huz!"

He turned his face to the wall and twice cried, "Huz! huz!" ("Out! out!") and then died.

Bouquet.

Louis IX. ("Saint Louis," canonized by Pope Boniface VIII. in 1297), 1215-1270. "I will enter now into the house of the Lord."

Some authorities say his last words were "We will go to Jerusalem."

Louis XIII. (son of Henry IV. and Marie de Médicis), 1601-1643. "Well, my God, I consent with all my heart," to his physician who told him he had but two hours to live.

Louis XIV. (surnamed Le Grand, often called Louis Quatorze, the most magnificent of the Bourbon Kings), 1638-1715. "Why weep ye? Did you think I should live forever?" then after a pause, "I thought dying had been harder." Some say his last words were: "O God, come to mine aid! O Lord, make haste to help me!"

On Sunday, August 31, towards eleven o'clock in the evening, the prayers for the dying were said for Louis XIV. He recited them himself in a louder voice than any of the spectators; and seemed still more majestic on his death-bed than on his throne. When the prayers were ended he recognized Cardinal de Rohan and said to him, "These are the graces of the Church." Several times he repeated: "Nunc et in hora mortis." Then he said, "O God, come unto mine aid; O Lord, make haste to help me." These were his last words. The agony was beginning. It lasted all night, and on Sunday, September 1, 1715, at a quarter past eight in the morning, Louis XIV., aged seventy-seven years lacking three days, during sixty-two of which he had been a king, yielded his great soul to God.

Imbert de Saint-Amand.

Louis XV. (of France), 1710-1774. "Repeat those words Monsieur the almoner, repeat them," to Cardinal de La Roche-Aymon, who read aloud the public apology made by the sovereign to his people.

Some authorities give his last words thus: "I have been a great sinner, doubtless, but I have ever observed Lent with a most scrupulous exactness; I have caused more than a hundred thousand masses to be said for the repose of unhappy souls, so that I flatter myself I have not been a very bad Christian."

A candle burning in the King's chamber, which was to be extinguished at the same moment as the life of the King, was the signal agreed on for the measures to be taken and the orders to be given as soon as he should have breathed his last. The candle was put out at two o'clock in the afternoon of May 10, 1774. Instantly a great tumult, comparable to a clap of thunder, shook the arches of Versailles. It was the crowd of courtiers leaving the antechambers of the dead man and noisily hastening to meet the new monarch.

Imbert de Saint-Amand: "The Last Years of Louis XV."

Louis XVI. (guillotined by a wild and bloodthirsty mob, called the French Republic, the 21st of January, 1793), 1754-1793. "Frenchmen, I die innocent of all the crimes which have been imputed to me. I forgive my enemies; I implore God, from the bottom of my heart, to pardon them, and not to take vengeance on the French nation for the blood about to be shed."

He was proceeding, when Santerre, who was on horseback near the scaffold, made a signal for the drums to beat, when the assistants seized the victim, and the horrid murder was completed.

When the king's head was severed from the body, one of the executioners held it up by the hair, dancing at the same time around the scaffold, with the most savage exultation.

Contemporary History of the French Revolution.

Louis XVII. (second son of Louis XVI. He became dauphin at the death of an elder brother in 1789, and was recognized as king in January, 1793, by the French royalists and several foreign courts, but he was closely confined by the Jacobins. The cruel treatment which he received in prison hastened his death), 1785-1795. "I have something to tell you."

Louis XVIII. (Louis Stanislas Xavier), 1755-1824. "A King should die standing."

Louise (Auguste Wilhelmine Amelie, Queen of Prussia), 1776-1810. "I am a Queen, but have no power to move my arms."

Lovat (Lord Fraser of Lovat, Scottish Jacobite conspirator. In the rebellion of 1745 he was detected in treasonable acts against King George, for which he was executed), about 1666-1747.

He was beheaded on Tower Hill. On reaching the scaffold, he asked for the executioner, and presented him with a purse containing ten guineas. He then asked to see the axe, felt its edge, and said he thought it would do. Next he looked at his coffin, on which was inscribed:

Simon, Dominus Fraser De Lovat. Decollat April 9, 1747 Ætat suae 80.

After repeating some lines from Horace, and next from Ovid, he prayed, then bade adieu to his solicitor and agent in Scotland; finally the executioner completed his work, the head falling from the body. Lord Lovat was the last person beheaded in England.

Andrews: "Bygone Punishments."

Lucan or Lucanus (Marcus Annæus, Roman epic poet, nephew of the philosopher Seneca), 38-65.

Lucan exhibited great apparent serenity at the approach of death. After the veins of his arm had been voluntarily opened, and he had lost a large quantity of blood, he felt his hands and his legs losing their vitality. As the hour of death approached, he commenced repeating several lines out of his own "Pharsalia," descriptive of a person similarly situated to himself. These lines he repeated until he died:

Lucas (Sir Charles. He commanded the right wing of the royal army at Marston Moor, was taken prisoner at Colchester, where he was put to death August 29th, 1648),—1648. "Soldiers, fire!" to the soldiers appointed to shoot him.

Lulli or Lully (Jean Baptiste, Italian composer, called "the Father of French Dramatic Music"), 1633-1687. "Sinner, thou must die." In sign of his repentance he died with a halter around his neck, repeating and, sometimes singing, with tears of remorse, "Sinner, thou must die."

Luther (Martin, the greatest of the Protestant reformers), 1484-1546. "Yes," in response to the question whether he stood by the doctrines of Scripture as he had taught them.

The same man who could scold like a fishwife could be as gentle as a tender maiden. At times he was as fierce as the storm that uproots oaks; and then again he was as mild as the zephyr caressing the violets.... The refinement of Erasmus, the mildness of Melancthon, could never have brought us so far as the godlike brutality of brother Martin.—Heine.

Lyttelton (George, first Lord, English statesman, author of "Dialogues of the Dead," and "History of Henry II."), 1709-1773. "Be good, be virtuous, my lord, you must come to this," to his son-in-law, Lord Valentia.

Macaulay (Thomas Babington, Lord), 1800-1859. "I shall retire early; I am very tired," said to his butler, who asked him if he would not rest on the sofa.

His mother resolved to spend the night at Holly Lodge. She had just left the drawing-room to make her preparations for the visit (it being, I suppose, a little before seven in the evening), when a servant arrived with an urgent summons. As we drove up to the porch of my uncle's house, the maids ran, crying, out into the darkness to meet us, and we knew that all was over. We found him in the library, seated in his easy chair, and dressed as usual; with his book on the table beside him, still open at the same page. He had told his butler that he should go to bed early, as he was very tired. The man proposed his lying on the sofa. He rose as if to move, sat down again, and ceased to breathe. He died as he had always wished to die—without pain; without any formal farewell; preceding to the grave all whom he loved; and leaving behind him a great and honorable name, and the memory of a life every action of which was clear and transparent as one of his own sentences.—G. Otto Trevelyan.

Maccail (his given name has not been preserved, a Scots Covenanter who expired under torture in the time of Charles II. of England), 1668. He died in an ecstasy of joy, and his last words were: "Farewell sun, moon and stars; farewell, world and time; farewell, weak and frail body; welcome, eternity; welcome, angels and saints; welcome, Saviour of the world; welcome, God, the Judge of all."

Machiavelli, or Macchiavelli, sometimes Machiavel (Nicholas, a celebrated atheist, and the author of "The Prince"), 1469-1530. "I desire to go to hell, and not to heaven. In the former place I shall enjoy the company of popes, kings, and princes, while in the latter are only beggars, monks, hermits, and apostles."

Mackintosh (Sir James, philosopher and politician), 1765-1832. "Happy!"

Malherbe (François de, the "Father of French lyric poetry"), 1555-1628. "Hold your tongue; your wretched style only makes me out of conceit with them," to his confessor, who was presenting the joys of heaven in vulgar and trite phrases.

His ruling passion was purity of diction. He would destroy a quire of paper in composing a single stanza; and it is said that during the twenty-five most prolific years of his life he made only about thirty-three verses a year.

Marat (Jean Paul, court-physician, author of several scientific works, and later the main promoter of the Reign of Terror in France), 1743-1793. "Help, my dear—help!" As Marat uttered these words he fell at the feet of Charlotte Corday, and immediately expired.

Charlotte, motionless, and as if petrified at her crime, was standing behind the window curtain. The transparent material allowed her form to be easily distinguished. Laurent, taking up a chair, struck her a clumsy blow on the head, which knocked her to the floor, where Marat's mistress trampled her under foot in her rage. At the noise that ensued, and the cries of the two women, the occupants of the house hastened thither, neighbors and persons passing in the streets ascended the staircase and filled the room, the courtyard, and very speedily the whole quarter, demanding, with fierce exclamations, that they would throw the assassin out to them, that they might avenge the dead—yet still warm—body of the people's idol. Soldiers and national guards entered, and order was, in some measure, re-established. Surgeons arrived, and endeavored to stanch the wound. The reddened water gave to the sanguinary democrat the appearance of having died in a bath of blood.—Larmartine.

The veneration for the monster Marat knew no bounds. Hymns were written in his honor. On divers stamps he was placed by the side of Christ. Men swore by the sacred heart of Marat. The new worship was complete, it had prostitutes for goddesses, and a man of violence and blood for a martyr and a saint. All it yet lacked was to engage in persecution; and it failed not in this worthy business.—De Pressensé.

Marcus (of Arethusa), being hung up in a basket smeared with honey, to be stung to death by bees, exclaimed,[30] "How am I advanced, despising you that are upon the earth!"

Margaret (of Scotland, wife of Louis XI. of France), 1420-1445. "Fi de la vie! qu'on ne m'en parle plus."

Margaret was devoted to literature, and, while she lived, patronized men of learning and genius. Her admiration for the poet Alain Chartier is said to have induced her to kiss his lips as he sat asleep one day in a chair. Her attendants being astonished at this act of condescension, the princess replied that "she did not kiss the man, but the lips which had given utterance to so many exquisite thoughts." She died at the age of twenty-five, before her husband had ascended the throne.

Mrs. Hale's "Sketches of Distinguished Women."

Margaret (of Valois, Queen of Navarre and sister of Francis I., of France), 1492-1549. "Farewell, and remember me." Some say, upon what authority I do not know, that the queen's last words were: "I never departed from the true church."

She inclined to the Protestant faith, but Roman Catholic writers assert that before her death she acknowledged her religious errors, and De Remond even goes so far as to imply that she denied on her death-bed having ever swerved from the standard of Roman authority.—Memoir of Margaret, attached to the English translation of her Heptameron.

She was a brilliant writer in both prose and verse, and was called the "Tenth Muse." Several authors speak of her as "Margaret the Pearl, surpassing all the pearls of the Orient." She composed a religious work called "Miroir de l'âme Pècheresse," which was condemned by the Sorbonne, on the ground that it inclined to Protestant doctrines. She also wrote the "Heptameron, or Novels of the Queen of Navarre."

Marie Antoinette (Marie Antoinette Josephine Jeanne de Lorraine, daughter of Francis I., Emperor of Germany, and Maria Thérèsa, and wife of Louis XVI., of France; she was guillotined October 16, 1793), 1755-1793. "Farewell, my children, forever. I go to your father."

The king perished on the scaffold January 21, 1793. The queen had four children, Marie Thérèse Charlotte, who married the oldest son of Charles X.; the dauphin, Louis, born in 1781 and died in 1789; Charles Louis, who died a victim to the brutality of the cobbler Simon; and a daughter who died in infancy.

Martineau (Harriet, English author, and translator of "The Positive Philosophy of Auguste Comte"), 1802-1876. "I have had a noble share of life, and I do not ask for any other life. I see no reason why the existence of Harriet Martineau should be perpetuated."

During the last one-and-twenty years of her life, death was the idea most familiar and most welcome. It was spoken of and provided for with an easy freedom that I never saw approached in any other home, yet she never expressed a wish respecting a place of burial. But a few days before her death, when asked if she would be laid in the burial-place of her family, she assented; and she lies with her kindred, in the old cemetery at Birmingham.[31]

Maria Weston Chapman.

Mary (Queen of Scots), 1542-1587. "O Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit."

The first blow of the executioner inflicted a ghastly wound on the lower part of the skull. Not a scream nor groan, not a sigh escaped her, but the convulsion of her features showed the horrible suffering caused by the wound. The eye-witness of the execution, whose account is published, thus relates this incident: "Thereupon the headsman brought down his axe, but missing the proper place, gave her a horrible blow upon the upper extremity of the neck; but, with unexampled fortitude, she remained perfectly still, and did not even heave a sigh. At the second stroke the neck was severed and the head held up to the gaze of bystanders with 'God save Queen Elizabeth!'"—Meline's "Mary Queen of Scots."

When the psalm was finished she felt for the block, and laying down her head muttered: "In manus, Domine, tuas commendo animam meam." The hard wood seemed to hurt her, for she placed her hands under her neck. The executioners gently removed them lest they should deaden the blow, and then one of them, holding her slightly, the other raised the axe and struck. The scene had been too trying even for the practised headsman of the Tower. His arm wandered. The blow fell on the knot of the handkerchief and scarcely broke the skin. She neither spoke nor moved. He struck again, this time effectively. The head hung by a shred of skin, which he divided without withdrawing the axe, and at once a metamorphosis was witnessed strange as was ever wrought by wand of fabled enchanter. The coif fell off and the false plaits; the labored illusion vanished; the lady who had knelt before the block was in the maturity of grace and loveliness. The executioner, when he raised the head as usual to show it to the crowd, exposed the withered features of a grizzled, wrinkled old woman.

Froude's "History of England."

Mary (Countess of Warwick),—1678. "Well, ladies, if I were one hour in heaven, I would not be again with you, as much as I love you."

She is the author of the famous question: "Why are we so fond of that life which begins with a cry, and ends with a groan?"

Mary I. (Queen of England, commonly called "Bloody Queen Mary" on account of her violent and cruel persecution of the Protestants), 1517-1558. "After I am dead, you will find Calais written upon my heart."

The loss of Calais just before her death affected her deeply.

Of the first Mary, long and too deservedly known by the title of "Bloody Mary," we confess we can never think without commiseration. Unamiable she certainly was, and deplorably bigoted. She sent two hundred and eighty-four people to the stake during a short reign of five years and four months; which, upon an average, is upwards of four a week! She was withal plain, petty of stature, ill-colored, and fierce-eyed, with a voice almost as deep as a man's; had a bad blood; and ended with having nobody to love her, not even the bigots in whose cause she lost the love of her people.

Leigh Hunt: "Men, Women and Books."

Mary II. (Queen of England and wife of William III.), 1662-1694. "My Lord, why do you not go on? I am not afraid to die." Said to Archbishop Tillotson who, reading to her, when she was upon her death-bed, the commendatory prayer in the office for the sick, was so overcome by grief that he was compelled to pause.

Masaniello (Tommaso Aniello, the fisherman of Amalfi, who headed the revolt which occurred in Naples in 1647 against the Spanish viceroy, the Duke of Arcos. His victory lasted nine days, during which time he had one hundred and fifty thousand men under arms and at his command. He was murdered by his own soldiers), 1623-1646. "Ungrateful traitors!" said to the assassins.

Mather (Cotton), 1633-1728. "I am going where all tears will be wiped from my eyes," to his wife, who wiped his eyes with her handkerchief.

Just before this he exclaimed: "Is this dying? Is this all? Is this all that I feared when I prayed against a hard death? Oh! I can bear this! I can bear it! I can bear it!"

He was a masterful man, abundant in labors, the organizer of over twenty charitable societies, a leader of all movements in church and state, an omnivorous reader, and the author of 382 separate publications, besides his enormous "Biblia Americana," which remains to this day in manuscript. He surmounted the prejudices of his age in defending inoculation, but not with regard to witchcraft and some other matters. His character was marred by certain restless infirmities; "it was his unconcealed grief that he was never elected to preside over Harvard." His greatest work, "Magnalia Christi Americana," 1702, was reprinted in two volumes, with memoir, and translations of the numerous Hebrew, Greek, and Latin quotations, Hartford, 1855.

Biographical Dictionary.

Mather (Increase, distinguished New England divine), 1639-1723. "Be fruitful."

Mather (Richard, celebrated Congregational minister in Dorchester, Mass. He was a voluminous author), 1596-1669. "Far from well, yet far better than mine iniquities deserve," in response to a question about his health.

Mathews (Charles, English Comedian), 1776-1836. "I am ready."

Maurice (John Frederick Denison, English divine and leader of the Broad Church party), 1805-1872. "The knowledge of the love of God—the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost be amongst you—amongst us—and remain with us forever."

During the early days of his last sickness he suffered greatly in mind, but as the end approached the sky cleared as after a shower, and his spirit passed away under the bright rainbow of hope.

Mazarin (Jules, cardinal and chief minister of France during the minority of Louis XIV.), 1602-1661. "O, my poor soul, what is to become of thee? Whither wilt thou go?"

Mazarin (Hortense Mancini, sister of the celebrated cardinal), 1647-1699. "Debt!"

She was so heavily in debt at the time of her death that her body was seized by her creditors.

Maximilian I. (Emperor of Germany), 1459-1519. His last words are not recorded, but just before his death he left directions that as soon as he was dead all his hair should be plucked out of his body, all his teeth should be drawn, and that both his teeth and his hair should be burned. His body was to be scourged, and then wrapped in quicklime, after which, clad in silk and damask, it was to be buried under the high altar in such position that the priest who said mass should always rest his feet above the emperor's breast. His body is entombed in Wienerisch Neustadt under the altar as he directed.

Maximilian (Ferdinand Joseph, Emperor of Mexico and Archduke of Austria), 1832-1867. "Lotte." His last word would seem to indicate that he was thinking of his wife, the unfortunate Carlotta, daughter of Leopold, King of Belgium.

In 1865 Maximilian was tempted by Napoleon III. to act the part of Emperor of Mexico, then partly governed by the republican President Juarez and partly conquered by the French. He arrived at the Mexican capital in June 1864. He issued a decree that all who adhered to the republic or resisted his authority should be shot. Many prisoners, including General Orteaga, accordingly suffered death by his order. According to the "New York Evening Post" of July 1st, 1867, he ordered the enslavement of the whole laboring population of Mexico. The United States refused to recognize him as Emperor, and required Napoleon to withdraw his army. Maximilian was embarrassed by want of money, and offended the clerical party (which had favored him) by refusing to restore the property of the Church, which had been confiscated by the Liberals. The French troops departed about the end of 1866, after which the republicans gained several victories and the empire quickly collapsed. Maximilian was captured at Quéretaro, and shot on the 19th of June 1867.—Lippincott.

Melanchthon (Philip. His original German name was Schwarzerdt, which he Grecized into Melanchthon, or, as he sometimes spelled it Melanthon. Both names denote "black earth"), 1497-1568. "Nothing else but heaven," in answer to a friend who enquired if he wanted anything further.

Mericourt (Anne Joseph Théroigne de, the famous "Goddess of Reason"[32]), 1760-1817. This woman's last words were partly reminiscent and partly the incoherent ravings of a disordered brain. The old scenes rose before her with startling vividness.

"Died, within these few days, in the hospital of pauper lunatics of Saltpêtrière, where she had lived unpitied and unknown for many years, the famous Théroigne de Mericourt (the Goddess of Reason), the most remarkable of the heroines of the revolution."—A Paris paper of August 1, 1817.

Metastasio (Pietro Bonaventura, originally named Trapassi, but changed to Metastasio, "a changing," in allusion to his adoption by the celebrated jurist Gravina, from whom he received a large property), 1698-1782. After he had received the sacrament, and a few minutes before his death, the poet uttered with unusual enthusiasm the following beautiful stanzas:

I offer to Thee, O Lord, Thy own Son, who already has given the pledge of love, inclosed in this thin emblem; turn on Him thine eyes; oh! behold whom I offer to Thee and then desist, O Lord! if Thou canst desist from mercy.

Mirabeau (Honoré Gabriel Riquetti, Comte de), 1749-1791. "When nature has abandoned an unhappy victim, when a miracle only can save his life, how can you have the barbarity to let him expire on the wheel?" spoken in support of a request for laudanum.

At daybreak he said to Cabanis:—"My friend I shall die to-day. When one is in this situation, there remains but one thing more to do, and that is to perfume me, to crown me with flowers, to environ me with music, so that I may enter sweetly into that slumber wherefrom there is no awaking."[33]

Later in the day he uttered these memorable words:—"I carry in my heart the dirge of the monarchy, the ruins whereof will now be the prey of the factions."

His death, although that of a sceptic, had something in it sublime. He was no stranger to his approaching dissolution; but, far from being intimidated by the prospect, he gloried in the name he was to leave. Hearing the cannon discharge upon some public event, he exclaimed, "I already hear the funeral obsequies of Achilles—after my death, the factions will tear to shreds the remnants of the monarchy." His sufferings were severe at the close of his illness: at one period, when the power of speech was gone, he wrote on a slip of paper the words of Hamlet, "To die is to sleep." "When a sick man is given over, and he suffers frightful pains, can a friendly physician refuse to give him opium?" "My pains are insupportable; I have an age of strength, but not an instant of courage." A few hours before his death, the commencement of mortification relieved his sufferings. "Remove from the bed," said he, "all that sad apparatus. Instead of these useless precautions, surround me with perfumes and the flowers of spring; dress my hair with care; let me fall asleep amidst the sound of harmonious music." He then spoke for ten minutes with such vivid and touching eloquence, that every one in the room was melted into tears. "When I am no more," said he, "my worth will become known. The misfortunes which I have held back will then pour on all sides upon France; the criminal faction which now trembles before me will be unbridled. I have before my eyes unbounded presentiments of disaster. We now see how much we erred in not preventing the commons from assuming the name of the National Assembly; since they gained that victory, they have never ceased to show themselves unworthy of it. They have chosen to govern the King, instead of governing by him; but soon neither he nor they will rule the country, but a vile faction, which will overspread it with horrors." A spasm, attended with violent convulsions, having returned, he again asked for laudanum. "When nature," said he, "has abandoned an unhappy victim, when a miracle only can save his life, how can you have the barbarity to let him expire on the wheel?" His feet were already cold, but his countenance still retained its animation, his eye its wonted fire, as if death spared to the last the abode of so much genius. Feigning to comply, they gave him a cup, containing what they assured him was laudanum. He calmly drank it off, fell back on his pillow, and expired.

Alison's "History of Europe."

Mohammed (The name signified "the praised," and was assumed by the founder of Islam. He was originally called Halabi), about 570-632. "O Allah, be it so! Henceforth among the glorious host of paradise." Some give his last words thus, "O Allah, pardon my sins. Yes, I come, among my fellow labourers on high."

In his last wanderings he only spoke of angels and heaven. He died in the lap of Ayeshah, about noon of Monday, the twelfth (eleventh) of the third month, in the year 11 of the Hedyrah (June 8, 632). His death caused an immense excitement and distress among the faithful, and Omar, who himself would not believe in it, tried to persuade the people of his still being alive. But Abu Bekr said to the assembled multitude:—"Whoever among you has served Mohammed, let him know that Mohammed is dead; but he who has served the god of Mohammed, let him continue in his service, for he is still alive and never dies."

Chambers' Encyclopædia.

Montcalm (Saint-Véran de Marquis), 1712-1759. "So much the better! I shall not then live to see the surrender of Quebec," on being told that he was dying.

Montefiore (Sir Moses, wealthy and distinguished Jewish philanthropist), 1785-1885. "Thank God! Thank Heaven!"

Montezuma II (Monteçumatin, "the sad or severe man"—the last of the Aztec emperors), about 1470-1520. "I confide to your care my beloved children, the most precious jewels I can leave you. The great monarch beyond the ocean will interest himself to see that they come into their inheritance, if you present before him their just claims. I know your master will do this, if for no other reason, then for the kindness I have shown the Spaniards, though it has occasioned my ruin. For all my misfortunes, Malinche,[34] I bear you no ill will." Some give his last words thus: "And do you think I, then, am taking pleasure in my bath?"

Montfort de (Simon, Earl of Leicester), 1208-1265. "Commend your souls to God, for our bodies are the foes'!" To his followers, when he saw the advance of the enemy at the battle of Evesham.

Moody (Dwight Lyman, distinguished American evangelist), 1837-1899. "I see earth receding; Heaven is opening; God is calling me."[35]

As the noonday hour drew near, the watchers at the bedside noticed the approach of death. Several times Mr. Moody's lips moved as if in prayer, but the articulation was so faint that the words could not be heard.

Just as death came Mr. Moody awoke as if from slumber, and said, with much joyousness. "I see earth receding; Heaven is opening; God is calling me," and a moment later he had entered upon what one of his sons described as "a triumphal march into heaven."—New York Times, Dec. 23, 1899.

Moore (Sir John, British general, whose death is beautifully commemorated in an ode by Rev. Charles Wolfe. Byron pronounced this ode the best in the English language),[36] 1761-1809.

He said to Colonel Anderson, who for one and twenty years had been his friend and companion in arms: "Anderson, you know that I always wished to die in this way." He frequently asked, "Are the French beaten?" And at length, when he was told they were defeated in every point, he said: "It is a great satisfaction to me to know we have beaten the French. I hope the people of England will be satisfied. I hope my country will do me justice." Having mentioned the name of his venerable mother, and the names of some other friends, for whose welfare he seemed anxious to offer his last prayers, the power of utterance was lost, and he died in a few minutes without a struggle.—The Book of Death.

The last words that passed his dying lips were a message to Lady Hester Stanhope, the niece of Pitt, afterwards so famous for her eccentricity, as her father had been before her. To her, to whom he is said to have been deeply attached, if not engaged, he sent his dying remembrances by her brother, one of his aides-de-camp, and then passed peacefully into the presence of his God.—Cornhill Magazine.

More (Sir Thomas, author of "Utopia." He succeeded Wolsey as lord chancellor, a dignity never before filled by a common lawyer. He refused to take the oath to maintain the lawfulness of the marriage of Henry VIII. with Anne Boleyn, and was therefore adjudged guilty of high treason, and condemned to death. He was beheaded July 6, 1535), 1480-1535. "I pray you see me safe up the scaffold; as for my coming down, let me shift for myself." Some say his last words were these, addressed to the executioner, "Stay friend till I put aside my beard, for that never committed treason."

More (Hannah, poet, essayist and moralist), 1744-1833. "Joy."

Morris (Gouverneur, American Statesman), 1752-1816.

Courageously he had lived, and courageously he met the great change, with entire resignation to the Divine will. "Sixty-four years ago," he said just before his death, "it pleased the Almighty to call me into existence—here, on this spot, in this very room; and now shall I complain that he is pleased to call me hence?" On the day of his death he asked about the weather, and, on being told that it was fair, he replied: "A beautiful day, yes, but—

Morton (Oliver Perry, American Statesman), 1823-1877. "I am dying, I am worn out," to Dr. Thompson who was standing by his bed and holding his hand.

Mothe le Vayer de la (This learned man's favorite amusement consisted in the study of distant countries), 1588-1672. "Well, my friend, what news from the Great Mogul?" The question was addressed to Bernier, the traveller, who had entered his room to bid him an affectionate and last farewell.

Motley (John Lothrop, distinguished historian), 1814-1877. "I am ill—very ill, I shall not recover."

About two o'clock in the day he complained of a feeling of faintness, said he felt ill and should not recover; and in a few minutes was insensible with symptoms of ingravescent apoplexy. There was extensive hemorrhage into the brain, as shown by postmortem examination, the cerebral vessels being atheromatous. The fatal hemorrhage had occurred into the lateral ventricles, from rupture of one of the middle cerebral arteries.

Sir William W. Gull's account of Motley's death.

Mozart (Johann Chrysostom Wolfgang Amadeus, one of the most eminent of musical composers), 1756-1792. The last words which he addressed to Sophie Haibl were, "I have the flavour of death on my tongue. I taste death; and who will support my dearest Constanze if you do not stay with her?" Later he conversed with Süssmayer over the Requiem and was heard to say, "Did I not say that I was writing the Requiem for myself?" This he said with tears in his eyes as he looked at the notes.

Just before death he demanded to hear again the Requiem. Dr. Clossel, his physician, nodded his consent. Süssmayer sat down at the piano, Schack sang the soprano, Hofer the tenor, Gorl the bass, and the dying Mozart the alto. Softly swelled forth the ineffable music of the sweet, sorrowful, sacred death song. After this the chamber was silent as the grave. Only the clock ticked softly on the shelf, as it marked the weary hours of the passing night.—Condensed from Sill's translation of Rau's Biographical Romance of Mozart.

After all consciousness had gone, still Mozart's fancies were busy with the Requiem, blowing out his cheeks to imitate the trumpets and drums. Toward midnight he raised himself, opened his eyes wide, then lay down with his face to the wall and seemed to fall asleep. At one o'clock he expired.

The swelling of Mozart's body after death led to the suspicion that he had been poisoned. But there was no other ground for the suspicion than Mozart's diseased fancies, which gave rise to the most shameful and unfortunate distrust of Salieri, who, it was reported, acknowledged upon his deathbed having administered poison to Mozart. All these suspicions were fully laid to rest by Carpani in the Biblioteca Italiana, 1824.[37]

Muhlenberg (Rev. William Augustus, founder of St. Luke's Hospital in New York, and author of the hymn, "I would not live alway"), 1796-1877. "Good morning," spoken to a friend who entered the room.

Murphy (Arthur, dramatic author, and translator), 1728-1805. He died repeating the lines of Pope:

Nadir Shah (Kouli Khan, celebrated Persian conqueror), 1688-1747. "Thou dog!" addressed to one of the conspirators who slew him in his tent, June 19, 1747.

When Nadir invaded India in 1739, he arrived first at Lahore; where the governor immediately surrendered the city to him, and treated him with princely honours. At night Nadir, whose only couch, for months past, had been a horse-blanket, with a saddle for a pillow, was conducted to a magnificent bed, with piles of cushions; and twelve young damsels were in attendance to shampoo his limbs and fan him to sleep. Nadir started from his luxurious couch, roared for his secretary, and gave orders that the drums should be beat, and a proclamation made that Nadir had conquered all India. The astonished scribe ventured to hint that this conquest had not yet been accomplished. "No matter," said Nadir, "where the chiefs of the people choose to live in this effeminate manner, it will cost me little trouble to conquer them." And his anticipation was fully verified. After he had taken the city of Delhi, he visited the discomfited Emperor, who received him in fear and trembling. Nadir was seated in the chair of state, and the attar of roses and other perfumes were brought, according to custom and presented to him. Nadir had not changed his clothes or taken off his armor for many days, and his person was by no means free from vermin. He asked contemptuously what was the use of perfuming a soldier's garments; and, thrusting his hand into his bosom, drew forth a number of lice, which he told the astonished Emperor were better companions than all his sweet scents. Nadir had ordered a splendid mausoleum to be built for himself at Mush'hed, in Khorassan; and on his return from India he went to see it. The night before he visited his intended resting-place, some unfriendly wag wrote above the spot destined for his grave—"Welcome, conqueror of the world! your place here has long been empty." The wag had in mind Nadir's common salutation to a friend who had been long absent, "Your place has been long empty." Nadir offered a reward for the discovery of the writer, but never succeeded in finding out who he was. The place was not long empty, for Nadir was assassinated soon after, and here his remains rested till they were dug up and desecrated by Agha Mohammed.

Welby: "Predictions Realized in Modern Times."

Nani (Giambattista Felice Gasparo, author of "Istaria della Republica Veneta"), 1616-1678. "How beautiful!"

Napoléon I. (Napoléon Bonaparte), 1769-1821. "Mon Dieu! La Nation Française! Tête d'armée," He died on the island of St. Helena, May 5, 1821. In 1840 his remains were removed to France and deposited in the Hotel des Invalides.[38]

During the last nine days of his life he was constantly delirious. On the morning of May 5th he uttered some incoherent words, among which Montholon fancied that he distinguished, "France ... armée ... tête d'armée." As the patient uttered these words he sprang from the bed, dragging Montholon, who endeavored to restrain him, on the floor. It was the last effort of that formidable energy. He was with difficulty replaced in bed by Montholon and Archambault, and then lay quietly till near six o'clock in the evening, when he yielded his last breath. A great storm was raging outside, which shook the frail huts of the soldiers as with an earthquake, tore up the trees that the Emperor had planted, and uprooted the willow under which he was accustomed to repose. Within, the faithful Marchand was covering the corpse with the cloak which the young conqueror had worn at Marengo.

Lord Rosebery.

Napoléon III. (Louis Napoléon, "The Little," "Ratipole," "The Man of Sedan," "The Man of December," "Boustrapa," "Badinguet" and "The Comte d'Arenenberg"), 1808-1873. "Were you at Sedan?" He asked the question of Dr. Conneau. It was at Sedan that he surrendered his sword to the King of Prussia.

Nares (Rev. Edward, "Thinks I to myself"), 1762-1841. "Good-bye."

Naruszewicz (Adam Stanislas, "The Polish Tacitus"), 1733-1796. "Must I leave it unfinished?" He referred to his "History of Poland."

Neander (Johann August, the celebrated church historian. He was of Jewish descent, but early in life embraced the Christian faith, and at his baptism assumed the name "Neander," from two Greek words signifying a new man), 1789-1850. "I am weary; I will now go to sleep. Good night!"

Nelson (Horatio), 1758-1805. "Thank God, I have done my duty." He died in battle. Some say his last words were: "Kiss me, Hardy." Others give them thus: "Tell Collingwood to bring the fleet to anchor."

His ever-memorable signal to his fleet, immediately before the battle commenced, had been; "England expects every man to do his duty," and if ever a man lived and died in earnest, fearless, unselfish discharge of his duty to his country, it was Admiral Nelson, victor of the Nile, Copenhagen and Trafalgar.—Appleton's Cyclopædia of Biography.

Nero (Lucius Domitius Claudius Cæsar, Emperor of Rome), 37-68. "Qualis artifex pereo!"

The poor wretch who, without a pang, had caused so many brave Romans and so many innocent Christians to be murdered, could not summon up resolution to die. He devised every operatic incident of which he could think. When even his most degraded slaves urged him to have sufficient manliness to save himself from the fearful infamies which otherwise awaited him, he ordered his grave to be dug, and fragments of marble to be collected for its adornment, and water and wood for his funeral pyre, perpetually whining: "What an artist to perish!" Meanwhile a courier arrived for Phaon. Nero snatched his dispatches out of his hand, and read that the Senate had decided that he should be punished in the ancestral fashion as a public enemy. Asking what the ancestral fashion was, he was informed that he would be stripped naked and scourged to death with rods, with his head thrust into a fork. Horrified at this, he seized two daggers, and after theatrically trying their edges, sheathed them again, with the excuse that the fatal moment had not yet arrived! Then he bade Sparus begin to sing his funeral song, and begged some one to show him how to die. Even his own intense shame at his cowardice was an insufficient stimulus, and he whiled away the time in vapid epigrams and pompous quotations. The sound of horses' hoofs then broke on his ears, and venting one more Greek quotation, he held the dagger to his throat. It was driven home by Epaphroditus, one of his literary slaves. At this moment the centurion who came to arrest him rushed in. Nero was not yet dead, and under pretense of helping him, the centurion began to stanch the wound with his cloak. "Too late," he said; "is this your fidelity?" So he died; and the bystanders were horrified with the way in which his eyes seemed to be starting out of his head in a rigid stare. He had begged that his body might be burned without posthumous insults, and this was conceded by Icelus, the freedman of Galba.

Farrar: "Early Days of Christianity."

It was the remark of Nero's father, Ahenobarbus, that nothing but what was hateful and pernicious to mankind could ever come from Agrippina and himself. Yet the story of a strange hand that strewed flowers upon the tomb of this tyrant is well known.

Newell (Harriet, missionary in India), 1793-1812. "The pains, the groans, the dying strife. How long, O Lord, how long?"

Newport (Francis, once famous as an opponent of Christianity). "Oh, the insufferable pangs of hell and damnation!" Died 1692.

Newton (John, English divine. His early life was that of a profligate sailor engaged in the African slave-trade. After his conversion he became the friend of the poet Cowper, and with him wrote the "Olney Hymns"). 1725-1807. "I am satisfied with the Lord's will." Last recorded words.

Newton (Richard, an English divine, founder of Hertford College, Oxford), 1676-1753. "Christ Jesus the Saviour of sinners and life of the dead. I am going, going to Glory! Farewell sin! Farewell death! Praise the Lord!"

Nott (Eliphalet, American clergyman, President of Union College, Schenectady, N. Y., for more than sixty years), 1773-1866. "One word, one word—Jesus Christ!"

Nourse (Rebecca, a good and brave woman who, in the old Puritan-days, suffered as a witch at Salem, Mass.), 1621-1692. Her last words are not preserved, but it is recorded that just before her death she declared her innocence and appealed to the judgment of Almighty God. The story of her death forms one of the saddest of the many distressing chapters in the history of early New England.

Mrs. Nourse was a very devout woman, and probably the hardest blow of all was the action of the First Congregational Church, of which she was a member. The records still preserved read as follows:

"After Sacrament the elders propounded to the church, and it was by unanimous vote consented to, that our Sister Nourse, being a convicted witch, and condemned to die, be excommunicated, which was accordingly done in the afternoon, she being present."

The scene presented on this occasion must have been as impressive at the time, as it is shocking to us in the retrospect. The spacious meeting-house was filled with people. The sheriff, accompanied by his deputy brought in the prisoner, manacled, with the chains clanking from her side. The two elders, Higginson and Noyes, as the clergy were then called, delivered an address over the sorrow-burdened form condemning her to eternal punishment.

Then came the day of execution, July 19, 1692. At an early hour the little village was bristling with activity. "The devil's angel on earth" was to be punished with the death she deserved, and so the Puritan maidens attired themselves in holiday dress to honor the event. The procession to the gallows was a long one, scores of people from the neighboring towns and villages taking part. The victim, manacled and guarded by the sheriff and his deputy, headed the line, while close behind followed troops of men and women who laughed, deeming it rare sport to see the agonized faces of the terror-stricken family as they watched the mother and wife grow pale, and tremble as she began the ascent of the rocky cliff whose top was crowned with the instrument of death. It is impossible in words to depict the scene of the execution in the horrible colors in which tradition has painted it. With firm steps and eyes upturned to heaven, the gray-haired woman took her place on the drop. Silently the hangman tied the rope before the eager waiting assembly; then a momentary hush passed over the crowd—the executioner's duty was done. A moment later all that was left to tell the story was the body of the aged woman swinging gently in the summer wind.

Seldom has a woman met with a harder fate. Her body was thrown with the previous victims into a hole in a crevice of the rocks, and hastily covered with earth. Then the masses of spectators turned homeward, leaving the bereaved family at the homestead uncared for and ignored by their once firm friends.

It is a family tradition that in some way the remains of Mrs. Nourse were recovered by her husband and sons and interred in the spot which is now pointed out on the estate as her grave. Imagination only can recall the details of the event, so sad and awful. In the darkness of night the sons hasten to the new-made grave, throw off the slight covering of earth, and by the feeble light of a lantern discover the remains. What feelings of revenge and sorrow must have stirred their hearts as they raised their mother's soulless frame tenderly in their arms, and carried it along through woods and valleys, over highways and fields to the homestead, where, on the following night, the three pronounced the only burial service over the remains, as they lowered the body into a newly-made grave in their own consecrated grounds, which down through the generations has been reverently guarded.

A beautiful shaft of granite has been erected over her grave by her descendants. The monument is of Rockport and Quincy granite, and is eight and a half feet high. The base and apex are of Rockport granite, and the die of Quincy granite, polished and lettered as follows:

REBECCA NOURSE. YARMOUTH, ENGLAND. 1621. SALEM, MASS. 1692.

O Christian martyr, who for truth could die, When all about thee owned the hideous lie, The world redeemed from superstition's sway, Goes breathing freer, for thy sake, to-day.

(On the reverse.)

Accused of witchcraft, she declared, "I am innocent, and God will clear my innocency." Once acquitted, yet falsely condemned, she suffered death July 19, 1692.

In loving memory of her Christian character, even then fully attested by forty of her neighbors, this monument is erected July, 1885.

Ney (famous French marshal, "The bravest of the brave"), 1769-1815. "Soldiers—fire!" said to the soldiers appointed to dispatch him.

Some say his last words were: "Comrades, straight to the heart, fire!" While repeating these words, he took off his hat, it is said, with his left hand, and placed his right hand upon his heart. The officer gave the signal with sword at the same moment, and the marshal instantly fell dead, pierced with twelve balls, three of which took effect in the head.

Noyes (John, the martyr). "We shall not lose our lives in this fire, but change them for a better, and for coals, have pearls," said to a fellow martyr.

Oates (Titus), about 1619-1705. "It is all the same in the end."

Titus Oates was the son of an anabaptist minister, but was educated for the Church of England, and received an appointment as chaplain in the royal navy. He was dismissed in disgrace from the navy, and united with the Jesuits. Later he rejoined the Church of England, and revealed a pretended popish plot, which resulted in the execution and imprisonment of many innocent persons. For this he received a large pension, and was granted a residence at Whitehall, where he lived until the death of Charles II. Under King James he was convicted of perjury and publicly whipped. William III. pensioned him.

An old acrostic, in a book published by Nat. Thompson, the bookseller, "at the entrance into the Old Spring Garden near Charing Cross," during the reign of Charles II., has this choice description of Titus Oates:

O'Carolan, or Carolan (Turlough, famous Irish bard and musical composer), 1670-1738. "It would be hard indeed if we two dear friends should part after so many years, without one sweet kiss." These words were spoken to a bowl of wine which he kissed when he was no longer able to drink.

Oliver (François, Chancellor of France), 1497-1560. "O Cardinal! thou wilt make us all to be damned," to Cardinal Lorrain under whom he had condemned to death many innocent men for their faith. He fell sick through remorse, and in his delirium charged Cardinal Lorrain with bringing down upon him the wrath of God.

Orange (William, Prince of, called "William the Silent," founder of the Dutch Republic), 1533-1584. "I do," in response to his sister's question, "Dost thou commend thy soul to Jesus Christ?"

William staggered and fell into the arms of an equerry. All crowded round. "I am wounded," said William in a feeble voice.... "God have mercy on me and on my poor people!" He was all covered with blood. His sister, Catherine of Schwartzburg, asked, "Dost thou commend thy soul to Jesus Christ?" He answered, in a whisper, "I do." It was his last word. They placed him on one of the steps and spoke to him, but he was no longer conscious. They then bore him into a room near by, where he died.—De Amicis: "Holland."

The assassin was put to death by the Dutch, but his parents were ennobled and richly rewarded by Philip II. of Spain. Philip had offered a reward for the prince's murder, and five separate attempts had been made previously to kill him.

Orleans (Louis Philippe Joseph, Duc d', surnamed "Égalité"), 1747-1793. "They will come off better after: let us have done," to the executioner who was about to draw off the duke's boots.

Owen (Robert, socialistic writer and philanthropist), 1771-1858. "Relief has come."

Owen (John, English non-conformist divine and author, chaplain to Cromwell, Dean of Christ Church, Oxford, in 1651, Vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford. He was a man of great ability and devoted piety), 1616-1683. The first sheet of his "Meditations on the Glory of Christ" had passed through the press under the superintendence of the Rev. William Payne; ... and on that person calling on him to inform him of the circumstances, on the morning of the day he died, he exclaimed with uplifted hands, and eyes looking upward, "I am glad to hear it; but, O brother Payne! the long-wished-for day is come at last, in which I shall see that glory in another manner than I have ever done, or was capable of doing, in this world."

From Quotation in Allibone.

Paine (Thomas, author of "Common Sense," "The Rights of Man" and "The Age of Reason"), 1737-1809. "I have no wish to believe on that subject." These words were in answer to his physician's inquiry: "Do you wish to believe that Jesus is the Son of God?"

There is a dispute with regard to Paine's death. Some writers say he recanted and became a Christian, while others affirm that he died as he lived—an avowed Deist. In his last will and testament he says: "I have lived an honest and useful life to mankind; my time has been spent in doing good; and I die in perfect composure and resignation to the will of my creator, God." On the other hand some authors say that he was grossly intemperate and licentious, and that he discarded Christianity, not so much from conviction as from a base desire to lead a bad life.

"In 1802, he (Paine) returned to America and resided a part of the time on a farm at New Rochelle, presented to him by the State of New York for his Revolutionary service. Paine became very intemperate, and fell low in the social scale, not only on account of his beastly habits, but because of his blasphemous tirade against Christianity."

Lossing in "Our Countrymen."

Of Paine's last hours Rev. O. B. Frothingham speaks as follows:

"The truth is, that Paine, though not rich, was in comfortable circumstances. He had considerable property, which is specified in his will. His sick bed was surrounded by friends who ministered to his wants, witnessed the firmness and calmness of his last hours, and attested the sincerity and sufficiency of his convictions. Not even the impertinent intrusiveness of the clergy disturbed the entire serenity of his death."

The commonly received opinion, and most likely the correct one, with regard to Paine is this which we excerpt from Appleton's Cyclopædia of Biography:

"His attacks upon religion had exceedingly narrowed his circle of acquaintance; and his habitual intemperance tended to the injury of his health and the ultimate production of a complication of disorders, to which he fell a victim in 1809. The Quakers refused to admit his remains among their dead, and he was buried on his own farm. Cobbett boasted of having disinterred him in 1817, and of having brought his body to England; many, however, assert that Cobbett did not take that trouble, but brought over from America the remains of a criminal who had been executed."[39]

Palmer (John, English actor of considerable merit), 1742-1798. "There is another and a better world."

His death took place on the stage of the Liverpool Theatre while he was performing the character of the Stranger, and his last words were a line in the play.

Palmer was a man of acute and affectionate feelings, which had been much exercised by the course and events of his life. He had recently lost his wife and a favorite son, labored in consequence under profound grief and depression of mind which he strove to overcome, and had expressed a conviction that these mental sufferings would very shortly bring him to his grave. During some days he seemed, however, to bear up against his misfortunes, and performed in some pieces, including The Stranger, with much success. About a week afterward he appeared a second time in that character, when he fell a victim to the poignancy of his feelings. On the morning of the day he was much dejected, but exerted himself with great effect in the first and second acts of the play. In the third act he showed evident marks of depression; and in the fourth, when about to reply to the question of Baron Steinfort relative to his children, appeared unusually agitated. He endeavored to proceed, but his feelings overcame him. The hand of death arrested his progress, and he fell on his back, heaved a convulsive sigh and instantly expired without a groan. Having been removed to the scene-room, and medical aid immediately procured, his veins were opened, but yielded not a single drop of blood, and every other means of resuscitation was tried without effect. His death was by most persons ascribed to apoplexy; but Dr. Mitchell and Dr. Corry gave it as their opinion that he certainly died of a broken heart, in consequence of the family afflictions which he had recently experienced.

Annual Register.

Park (Edwards Amasa, distinguished American theologian, author and translator, professor in Andover Theological Seminary, and one of the editors of the "Bibliotheca Sacra"), 1808-1899. "These passages may be found on the following pages." His mind was wandering, and, like Dr. Adam, head master at the High School in Edinburgh, he thought himself once more in the class-room.

Parker (Theodore, Unitarian preacher and writer), 1810-1869. "It is all one, Phillips and Clarke will come for my sake." He meant that Wendell Phillips and James Freeman Clarke would attend his funeral. He died at Florence, where he had gone for his health. The character of Theodore Parker was above reproach. His tone of morality was high. His motives were elevated, and, apparently, sincere. His firm grasp of some of the fundamental principles of natural religion, together with his unfailing confidence in his own powers, gave a strength to his utterances of truth and duty which often stirred and swayed the moral nature of his hearers. But in all his writings we find no expression of a consciousness of guilt and of need as a sinner, and no recognition of Christ as a Saviour. Of Theodore Parker, Lowell speaks thus wittily, in his "Fables for Critics:"

Parkman (Francis, American author), 1823-1893. He died peacefully about noon on the 8th of November, 1893, and was buried in the Mount Auburn Cemetery. The last book he read was "Childe Harold," and his last words were to tell that he had just dreamed of killing a bear. Though suffering extremely, he yet maintained to his last hour an impressive degree of dignity, firmness, gentleness and serenity.

Farnham: "Life of Francis Parkman."

Pascal (Blaise, one of the most profound thinkers and accomplished writers of France), 1623-1662. "May God never forsake me!"

Payson (Rev. Edward, American Congregational divine), 1783-1827. "Faith and patience hold out." These words were spoken with extreme difficulty and in great pain. Some report his last words thus: "I feel like a mote in the sunbeam."

Dr. Payson directed that when he was dead a label should be attached to his breast on which should be written, "Remember the words I spake unto you while I was yet present with you," that all who came to view his dead body might receive from him one more sermon. The same words were at the request of his people engraven upon the plate of the coffin.

Pellico (Silvio, Italian poet, author of "Francesca da Rimini" and "My Prisons"), 1789-1854. "O Paradise! O Paradise! At last comes to me the grand consolation. My prisons disappear; the great of earth pass away; all before me is rest."

Pembo (the hermit), "I thank God that not a day of my life has been spent in idleness. Never have I eaten bread that I have not earned with the sweat of my brow. I do not recall any bitter speech I have made for which I ought to repent now." This suggests the prayer of the Pharisee, "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week; I give tithes of all that I possess."—Luke xviii: 11, 12.

Penn (William, founder of Pennsylvania), 1644-1718. "To be like Christ is to be a Christian."

Perceval (Spencer, distinguished statesman, assassinated on the 11th of May, 1812, in the lobby of the House of Commons, by John Bellingham), 1762-1812. "O my God!"

Pestel (Paul, Russian revolutionist, author of "Pestel's Hymn." He was a brave man who loved liberty, and desired to establish it upon the ruins of Russian absolutism), 1794-1826. "Stupid country, where they do not even know how to hang." These words were spoken when the rope broke by which he was to be hanged.

Peter (His original name was Simon; but when he became a disciple of Christ he received the name Peter, which in Greek signifies a "rock." He was sometimes called Cephas. He was one of the most distinguished of the twelve apostles of our Lord, and is the author of two epistles included in the canon of Scripture),—65. "Remember the Lord Jesus Christ." These words which rest upon the authority of Eusebius, Peter is said to have addressed to his wife on seeing her going to martyrdom. Some suppose that he was himself at the time suspended upon the cross.[40]

Peter I. (of Russia, "Peter the Great"), 1672-1725. "I believe, Lord, and confess; help my unbelief."

Peter III. (Feodorovitch, of Russia, grandson of "Peter the Great." He drew down upon himself, by his innovations, the enmity of the nobles and clergy, and was in consequence dethroned and strangled by conspirators, of whom his wife, the profligate, cruel and infamous Catherine II. was an accomplice), 1728-1762. "It was not enough to deprive me of the Crown of Russia, but I must be put to death."

Peters (Hugh, distinguished clergyman and politician, pastor of the First Congregational Church in Salem, Mass., succeeding Roger Williams, "whose doctrines he disclaimed and whose adherents he excommunicated." In 1637 he was appointed overseer of Harvard. In 1641 he returned to England, where he joined the Parliamentary party, and became a chaplain in the army. After the restoration of Charles II. Peters was committed to the Tower, and indicted for high treason. He was executed in London, Oct. 16, 1660), 1599-1660. "Friend, you do not well to trample on a dying man."

When Hugh Peters was carried on a sledge to the scaffold, he was made to sit within the rails, and see the execution of Mr. Cook. When the latter was cut down to be quartered, Colonel Turner ordered the sheriff's men to bring Mr. Peters near, that he might see it; and when soon after the hangman rubbed his blood-stained hands together, he tauntingly asked, "Come, how do you like this work, Mr. Peters?" He calmly replied, "Friend, you do not well to trample on a dying man."

The Percy Anecdotes.

It was alleged that Peters was one of those that stood masked on the scaffold when the king was beheaded, and to render him more odious, it was reported that he was the executioner. During his imprisonment he wrote several letters of advice to his daughter, which were published under the title of "A Dying Father's Legacy to an Only Child," of which his great-nephew, Samuel, said: "It was printed and published in Old and New England, and myriads of experienced Christians have read his legacy with ecstasy and health to their souls." After execution his head was stuck on a pole and placed on London bridge.... His private character has been the subject of much discussion. He was charged by his enemies with gross immorality, and the most bitter epithets have been applied to him. Of late years he has been estimated more favorably.

Appleton's Cyclopædia of American Biography.

Philip II. (of Spain), 1527-1598. "I die like a good Catholic, in faith and obedience to the Holy Roman church."

Soon after these last words had been spoken, a paroxysm, followed by faintness, came over him, and he lay entirely still. They had covered his face with a cloth, thinking that he had already expired, when he suddenly started with great energy, opened his eyes, seized the crucifix again from the hand of Don Fernando de Toledo, kissed it, and fell back again in agony.... He did not speak again, but lay unconsciously dying for some hours, and breathed his last at five in the morning of Sunday, the 13th of September.

Motley: "History of the United Netherlands."

Philip III. (of Spain), 1578-1621: "Oh would to God I had never reigned! Oh, that those years I have spent in my kingdom I had lived a solitary life in the wilderness! Oh, that I had lived alone with God! How much more secure should I now have died! With how much more confidence should I have gone to the throne of God! What doth all my glory profit, but that I have so much the more torment in my death?"

Pius IX. (Cardinal Giovanni Maria Mastai-Farretti, elected Pope June 17th, 1846), 1792-1878. "Guard the church I loved so well and sacredly." Some say his last words were, "Death wins this time."

Phocion (Athenian statesman and general, unjustly condemned on a charge of treason, and put to death), b. c. 402-317. "No resentment."

Pitt (William), 1759-1806. "O my country, how I leave thee!"

Pizarro (Francisco, the conqueror of Peru), about 1475-1541. "Jesu!" He was assassinated in his palace, June 26, 1541, and was killed only after desperate resistance.

Plotinus (Greek philosopher of the Neo-Platonic school), 204-270. "I am laboring to return that which is divine in us, unto that Divinity which informs and enlivens the whole universe."

He was intensely religious, and if he had come a century later would, instead of a heathen philosopher, have been one of the first names among the saints of the church.—Hallam.

Poe (Edgar Allan, American poet, author of "The Raven"), 1811-1849. "Lord help my soul!"

Dr. Moran, resident physician of the Marine Hospital, where Poe died, wrote to Mrs. Clemm, under date of November 15th, 1849, an account of Poe's last hours, in which he represents him as having been wildly delirious, sometimes "resisting the efforts of two nurses to keep him in bed, until Saturday, when he commenced calling for one 'Reynolds,' which he did through the night until three on Sunday morning. At this time a very decided change began to affect him. Having become enfeebled from exertion, he became quiet and seemed to rest for a short time; then gently moving his head he said, 'Lord help my soul!' and expired."

Polycarp ("Saint," Christian Father and martyr and the reputed disciple of the Apostle John), burned at the stake, 169. "O Father of Thy beloved and blessed Son, Jesus Christ! O God of all principalities and of all creation! I bless Thee that Thou hast counted me worthy of this day, and of this hour, to receive my portion in the number of the martyrs, in the cup of Christ. I praise Thee for all these things; I bless Thee, I glorify Thee, by the eternal High Priest, Jesus Christ, Thy well-beloved Son, through whom, and with whom, in the Holy Spirit, be glory to Thee, both now and forever. Amen."

Pope (Alexander), 1688-1744. "I am dying, sir, of a hundred good symptoms," said to a friend who called to inquire concerning his health. Some give his last words thus: "Friendship itself is but a part of virtue."[41]

Pope (William, the notorious leader of a company of men who attracted considerable attention by their open and continued abuse of sacred things. The utterances of these men shocked community and filled the minds of even open unbelievers with horror. It was reported, but of that the compiler of this book has no positive knowledge, that Pope and his associates diverted themselves by kicking the Bible about the floor of the room in which they held their infamous meetings. In his death chamber was a scene of terror),—1797. "I have done the damnable deed—the horrible damnable deed! I cannot pray. God will have nothing to do with me. I will not have salvation at His hands. I long to be in the bottomless pit—the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone! I tell you I am damned! I will not have salvation! Nothing for me but hell. Come, eternal torments. O God, do not hear my prayers, for I will not be saved. I hate everything that God has made."

Porteus (Beilby, Bishop of London. Among his works are a "Life of Archbishop Seeker," "Sermons," and a Seatonian prize poem on "Death." It is said that he assisted Hannah More in the composition of "Cœlebs in Search of a Wife"), 1731-1808. "O, that glorious sun!"

Preston (John, author of "Treatise on the Covenant"), 1587-1628. "Blessed be God, though I change my place, I shall not change my company; for I have walked with God while living, and now I go to rest with God."

Priestly (Joseph, philosopher and writer), 1733-1804. "I am going to sleep like you, but we shall all awake together, and I trust to everlasting happiness," spoken to his grandchildren and attendants.

To Priestly we owe our knowledge of oxygen, binoxide of nitrogen, sulphurous acid, fluosilicic acid, muriatic acid, ammonia, carburetted hydrogen, and carbonic oxide.

Pusey (Edward Bouverie, Regius professor of Hebrew at Oxford, author with John Henry Newman, of "Tracts for the Times." He favored auricular confession and many of the distinctive doctrines and practices of the Roman Catholic church), 1800-1882. "My God!"

He repeated again and again during his last hours the words, "The body of our Lord Jesus Christ which was given for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life." When a common cup containing food was brought to him, he clutched it with reverent eagerness, thinking in the bewilderment of his mind, that it was the chalice. When he saw the friends about his bed kneeling in prayer, he raised his hand, with the words, "By His authority committed unto me, I absolve thee from all thy sins." At last, gazing about him as though he saw what the dear ones by his bedside could not see, he cried out, "My God!" and ceased to breathe. His Hebrew Bible lay open on a little table near his bed just as he had left it a few days before, at 1 Chron. xvi, where is described David's triumphant restoration of the ark of God to its place in the reverent worship of Israel.

Quarles (Francis, quaint English poet, author of "Emblems"), 1592-1644. "What I cannot utter with my mouth, accept, Lord, from my heart and soul."

Quin (James, actor), 1693-1766. "I could wish this tragic scene were over, but I hope to go through it with becoming dignity."

Quick (John, actor), 1748-1831. "Is this death?"

Rabelais (François), about 1483-1553. "Let down the curtain, the farce is over." Some say his last words were, "I am going to the great perhaps."

Raleigh or Rawleigh (Sir Walter), 1552-1618. "This is a sharp medicine, but a sure remedy for all evils!" These words he said upon the scaffold, when permitted to feel of the edge of the axe. Some say that later he was asked which way he chose to place himself on the block, and that he replied, "So the heart be right, it is no matter which way the head lies." Others say that his last words were these addressed to the hesitating headsman, "Why dost thou not strike? Strike!"

The lovers of tobacco will remember that it was Sir Walter Raleigh who introduced their "delightful weed" into Europe. So fond was he of the weed that he used it upon the scaffold. The snuff-box out of which he took a pinch just before his head rested upon the block was in constant use by the Duke of Sussex, and was disposed of at his sale for £6.

Mr. Van Klaës whose will is celebrated all over Holland was not to be behind Sir Walter Raleigh in his devotion to tobacco. After his bequests to relatives and charities, he has this paragraph in his will:

"I wish every smoker in the kingdom to be invited to my funeral in every way possible, by letter, circular and advertisement. Every smoker who takes advantage of the invitation shall receive as a present ten pounds of tobacco, and two pipes on which shall be engraved my name, my crest, and the date of my death. The poor of the neighborhood who accompany my bier shall receive every year on the anniversary of my death a large package of tobacco. I make the condition that all those who assist at my funeral, if they wish to partake of the benefits of my will, must smoke without interruption during the entire ceremony. My body shall be placed in a coffin lined throughout with the wood of my old Havana cigar-boxes. At the foot of the coffin shall be placed a box of French tobacco called Caporal and a package of our old Dutch tobacco. At my side place my favorite pipe and a box of matches, ... for one never knows what may happen. When the bier rests in the vault, all the persons in the funeral procession are requested to cast upon it the ashes of their pipes, as they pass it on their departure from the grounds."

The wishes of the testator were fulfilled to the letter. The funeral went off gloriously in dense clouds of smoke. Mr. Van Klaës' cook, Gertrude, to whom was left in a codicil to the will a large sum of money on condition she should overcome her aversion to tobacco, walked in the funeral procession with a cigarette in her mouth.

Randolph (John, an able but eccentric American statesman), 1773-1833. "Write that word 'Remorse;' show it to me." These words rest upon doubtful authority.

Raphael (Sanzio, most illustrious of painters. "The Transfiguration" at Rome, and the "Madonna di San Sisto" at Dresden are accounted his master-pieces), 1483-1520. "Happy—.'

"Once again Raphael revived, and, supported by two friends, arose and looked around with wide-open eyes. 'Whence comes the sunshine?' murmured he.

"'Raphael,' cried I, and extended both hands toward him, 'do you recognize me?'

"For a moment it seemed as if he had not heard me, then he spoke again, and the holy calm of his expression, in spite of the death-struggle, bore testimony to his words, 'Happy—.' He tried to finish the sentence, but could not. He never uttered another word, but it was full night when a voice broke through the long stillness: 'Raphael is dead!'"

Cardinal Bibbiena in a letter to his niece Maria di Bibbiena.

Ravaillac (François, the assassin of Henry IV. of France), 1578-1610. "I receive absolution upon this condition." Ravaillac asked absolution of Dr. Filesac, who answered, "We are forbidden to give it in the case of a crime of high treason, unless the guilty one reveals his abettors and accomplices." Ravaillac replied, "I have none. It is I alone that did it. Give me a conditional absolution. You cannot refuse this." "Well, then," said Dr. Filesac, "I give it to you, but if the contrary be true, instead of absolution I pronounce your eternal damnation. Look to it." Ravaillac answered, "I receive absolution upon this condition."

On May 27, 1610, Ravaillac was declared by the Parliament guilty of divine and human high treason; condemned to have his flesh torn with hot pincers and the wounds filled with melted lead, boiling oil, etc.; to have his right hand, holding the regicidal knife, burned in a fire of sulphur; to be afterward torn to pieces alive by four horses, to have his members reduced to ashes and the ashes thrown to the winds. The same decree ordered that the house in which he was born be demolished; that his father and his mother leave the kingdom in fifteen days, with orders not to return, under penalty of being hung and strangled; and finally that his brothers, sisters, uncles, etc., give up the name of Ravaillac and take another, under pain of the same penalties.