constantly in his mouth during his latter days,) 'in a moment.' And the expressions of his impatience, though from old habit still gentle, were so lively, and had so much of infantine naïveté about them, that none of us could forbear smiling. Knowing what would happen, I had taken care that all the preparations should be made beforehand; the coffee was ground; the water was boiling; and the very moment the word was given, his servant shot in like an arrow, and plunged the coffee into the water. All that remained, therefore, was to give it time to boil up. But this trifling delay seemed unendurable to Kant. All consolations were thrown away upon him: vary the formula as we might, he was never at a loss for a reply. If it was said--'Dear Professor, the coffee will be brought up in a moment.'--'_Will_ be!' he would say, 'but there's the rub, that it only _will_ be: Man never _is_, but always _to be_ blest.' If another cried out--'The coffee is coming immediately.'--'Yes,' he would retort, 'and so is the next hour: and, by the way, it's about that length of time that I have waited for it.' Then he would collect himself with a stoical air, and say--'Well, one can die after all: it is but dying; and in the next world, thank God! there is no drinking of coffee, and consequently no--waiting for it.' Sometimes he would rise from his chair, open the door, and cry out with a feeble querulousness --'Coffee! coffee!' And when at length he heard the servant's step upon the stairs, he would turn round to us, and, as joyfully as ever sailor from the mast-head, he would call out--'Land, land! my dear friends, I see land.'