“D’un des pans de sa robe it couvre son visage, A son mauvais dentin en aveugle obéit, Et dédaigne de voir le ciel qui le trahit.” So with the Greek wife in Landor’s Hellenics, who resists the bidding to fall not on her knees, but to look up:— “The hand That is to slay me, best may slay me thus. I dare no longer see the light of heaven.”[35] But to die in the light is the almost universal craving. “As a matter of fact, nothing,” it has been remarked, “is more common than the craving and demand for light a little before death;” a remark confirmed by the sad experience of many who have tended and watched the last moments of a friend. “What more frequent than a prayer to open the shutters, and let in the sun? What complaint more repeated, and more touching than that ‘it is growing dark’?” We are told of a sufferer who did not seem in immediate danger, suddenly ordering the sick room to be lit up as for a gala. When this was mentioned to the physician, he said, gravely, “No worse sign.” We all remember the tenor of the last words of Dr. Adam, of the High School, Edinburgh, as recorded (however variously) by Scott and Lord Cockburn and others. It was in his bed-chamber, and in the forenoon, that he died; and finding that he could not see, the old schoolmaster, believing himself in the familiar school-room, exclaimed, “It is getting dark, boys; we must put off the rest till to-morrow.” It was the darkness of death. And to the living, to-morrow, above all, _that_ to-morrow, never comes.