linger with the impression that his days were numbered. On the evening of the same day, Cuvier felt some pain in his right arm, which was supposed to proceed from rheumatism. The next morning he presided over the Committee of the Interior with his usual ability and activity; but at dinner that day he felt some difficulty in swallowing, and the numbness in the arm increased. When he felt himself thus ill, in order to take away the attention of Madame Cuvier, he said, “I must eat more soup,” swallowing bread even being impossible. Advice was sought, but during the next day both arms became paralyzed, and the swallowing was worse. He made his will with perfect calmness, and it evinced the tenderest solicitude for those whose cares and affections had comforted his life, and for those who had aided him most in his scientific labours. He could not sign the will, but it was attested by four witnesses. Convinced that all human skill was in vain, he nevertheless submitted to treatment by his medical men. Paralysis crept on, and the legs were attacked, his speech was affected, and he muttered, “It is the nerves of volition that are affected.” He spoke of his last lecture, and said to a friend who called, “Behold a very different person to the man of Tuesday; nevertheless I had great things still to do. All was ready in my head, after thirty years of labour and research; there remained but to write, and now the hands fail and carry with them the head.” Cuvier gradually sank, but kept his intelligence nearly to the last. It was his wish to be buried privately, interred in the cemetery of Père le Chaise, under the tombstone which covered his beloved child; but it was not possible to avoid the public demonstration of respect. The funeral procession was followed by the representatives of all the great learned bodies of France.