Narrative and Miscellaneous PapersDe Quincey, Thomas
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Narrative and Miscellaneous Papers
De Quincey, Thomas
English essays; English fiction
When dinner was announced, Dr. A---- took his leave. Another guest had
now arrived, and I was in hopes, from the animation which Kant had so
recently displayed, that we should to-day have a pleasant party, but
my hopes were vain--Kant was more than usually exhausted, and though
he raised a spoon to his mouth, he swallowed nothing. For some time
everything had been tasteless to him; and I had endeavored, but with
little success, to stimulate the organs of taste by nutmeg, cinnamon,
&c. To-day all failed, and I could not even prevail upon him to taste a
biscuit, rusk, or anything of that sort. I had once heard him say that
several of his friends, who had died of _marasmus_, had closed their
illness by four or five days of entire freedom from pain, but totally
without appetite, and then slumbered tranquilly away. Through this state
I apprehended that he was himself now passing.
Saturday, the 4th of February, I heard his guests loudly expressing
their fears that they should never meet him again; and I could not but
share these fears myself. However, on
Sunday, the 5th, I dined at his table in company with his particular
friend Mr. R. R. V. Kant was still present, but so weak that his head
drooped upon his knees, and he sank down against the right side of the
chair. I went and arranged his pillows so as to raise and support his
head; and, having done this, I said--'Now, my dear Sir, you are again in
right order.' Great was our astonishment when he answered clearly and
audibly in the Roman military phrase--'Yes, _testudine et facie;_' and
immediately after added, 'Ready for the enemy, and in battle array.' His
powers of mind were (if I may be allowed that expression) smouldering
away in their ashes; but every now and then some lambent flame, or grand
emanation of light, shot forth to make it evident that the ancient fire
still slumbered below.
Monday, the 6th, he was much weaker and more torpid: he spoke not
a word, except on the occasion of my question about the Moors, as
previously stated, and sate with sightless eyes, lost in himself, and
manifesting no sense of our presence, so that we had the feeling of some
mighty shade or phantom from some forgotten century being seated amongst
us.
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