About nine he said he would rise. The servant, however,
persuaded him to remain in bed till Mr. Farquhar, who was expected at
eleven, should come. Till about that hour he spoke with great
facility. Mr. Farquhar came at the time appointed, and he was then
visibly dying. When the _valet-de-chambre_ returned, after attending
Mr. Farquhar out of the room, Mr. Gibbon said, 'Pourquoi est ce que
vous me quittez?' This was about half-past eleven. At twelve he drank
some brandy and water from a teapot, and desired his favourite servant
to stay with him. These were the last words he pronounced
articulately. To the last he preserved his senses; and when he could
no longer speak, his servant having asked a question, he made a sign
to show that he understood him. He was quite tranquil, and did not
stir, his eyes half shut. About a quarter before one he ceased to
breathe." He wanted just eighty-three days of fifty-seven years of
age.
Thus, in consequence of his own strange self-neglect and imprudence,
was extinguished one of the most richly-stored minds that ever lived.
Occurring when it did, so near the last summons, Gibbon's prospective
hope of continued life "for ten, twelve, or twenty years" is harshly
pathetic, and full of that irony which mocks the vain cares of men.
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