But it is evident that the hardships of his life had at an early period begun to tell upon his constitution, and that this was further shattered by irregular habits in his later years. Symptoms of serious trouble in the lungs excited his alarm in the winter of 1795, and he was induced to seek medical advice. Partly from an unwise scepticism in regard to medicine, partly from his usual failure to adhere to any fixed rule in his conduct, the services of his physicians commonly ended with the consultation; he seldom or never acted on their advice.[102] He lived in indifferent health for five or six years more. When his last illness overtook him, he was living in the house of Graf Kalkreuth at Siegersdorf near Freistadt, in Lower Silesia. The only account of him at this crisis was written by the pastor of Freistadt, for a monthly periodical of the time, entitled _Kronos_. It forms the close of Wolff's little book; and as it is the only account, it may be of some interest here. The pastor, Herr Tscheggey, had made the acquaintance of Maimon about the year 1795; but their intercourse had become much closer about six weeks before Maimon's death, when he used to visit the pastor two or three times a week. On hearing that Maimon had been confined for some days, the good pastor at once went to see him. He found him in a state of great weakness, unable to leave his room, and besought him earnestly, but in vain, to take medical advice. A few days afterwards he called again, and saw that evidently the end was drawing nigh. Curious to know whether Maimon in this situation would remain true to his principles, he gave the following turn to the conversation, which he professes to report word for word. "I am sorry to find you so ill to-day, dear Maimon," said the pastor. "There will perhaps be some improvement yet," replied Maimon. "You look so ill," his friend proceeded, "that I am doubtful about your recovery." "What matters it after all?" said Maimon. "When I am dead, I am gone." "Can you say that, dear friend," rejoined the clergyman, with deep emotion. "How? Your mind, which amid the most unfavourable circumstances ever soared to higher attainments, which bore such fair flowers and fruits--shall it be trodden in the dust along with the poor covering in which it has been clothed? Do you not feel at this moment that there is something in you which is not body, not matter, not subject to the conditions of space and time?" "Ah!" replied Maimon, "these are beautiful dreams and hopes"----