brought it, he said in a distinct voice,--"_Call my wife; let her feed me._" She came, sank down on her knees by the head of the bed, and carried to his lips one, and afterwards another spoonful of the cloud-berries, and then pressed her cheek against his; Pushkin stroked her on the head, and said, "_There, there, never mind; thank God, all is well; go._" The tranquil expression of his face, and the firmness of his voice, deceived the poor wife; she left the room almost radiant with joy. "You see," she said to Dr Spasskii, "he will live; he will not die." But at this moment the last process of vitality had already begun. I stood together with Count Vielhorskii at the head of the bed; by the side stood Turgenieff. Dahl whispered to me, "He is going." But his thoughts were clear. It was only at intervals that a half-dosing forgetfulness overshadowed them; once he gave his hand to Dahl, and pressing it, said: "_Now, lift me up--come--but higher, higher ... now, come along!_" But awaking, he said, "_I was dreaming, and I fancied that I was climbing with you up along these books and shelves! so high ... and my head began to turn._" After pausing a little, he again, without unclosing his eyes, began to feel for Dahl's hand, and pulling it, said: "_Now, let us go then, if you wish; but together._" Dahl, at his request, took him under the arms, and raised him higher; and suddenly, as if awaking, he quickly opened his eyes, his face lighted up, and he said, "_Life is finished!_" Dahl, who had not distinctly heard the words, answered, "Yes, it is finished; we have turned you round." "_Life is finished!_" he repeated, distinctly and positively. "_I can't breathe, I am stifling!_" were his last words. I never once removed my eyes from him, and I remarked at this moment, that the movement of the breast, hitherto calm, became interrupted. It soon ceased altogether. I looked attentively; I waited for the last sigh, but I could not remark it. The stillness which reigned over his whole appearance appeared to me to be tranquillity; but he was now no more. We all kept silence around him. In a couple of minutes I asked, "How is he?" "He is dead!" answered Dahl. So calmly, so tranquilly had his soul departed. We long stood around him in silence, without stirring, not daring to disturb the mysteries of death, which were completed before us in all their touching holiness. When all had left the room, I sate down before him, and long alone I gazed upon his face. Never had I beheld upon that countenance any thing like that which was upon it in this first moment of death. His head was somewhat bent forward; the hands, which a few moments ago had exhibited a kind of convulsive movement, were calmly stretched, as if they had just fallen into an attitude of repose after some heavy labour. But that which was expressed in the face, I am not able to tell in words. It was to me something so new, and at the same time so familiar.