Courageously he had lived, and courageously he met the great change, with entire resignation to the Divine will. "Sixty-four years ago," he said just before his death, "it pleased the Almighty to call me into existence--here, on this spot, in this very room; and now shall I complain that he is pleased to call me hence?" On the day of his death he asked about the weather, and, on being told that it was fair, he replied: "A beautiful day, yes, but-- "'Who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing, anxious being e'er resign'd; Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?'" --_Diary and Letters of Gouverneur Morris._ MORTON (Oliver Perry, American Statesman), 1823-1877. "_I am dying, I am worn out_," to Dr. Thompson who was standing by his bed and holding his hand. MOTHE LE VAYER DE LA (This learned man's favorite amusement consisted in the study of distant countries), 1588-1672. "_Well, my friend, what news from the Great Mogul?_" The question was addressed to Bernier, the traveller, who had entered his room to bid him an affectionate and last farewell. MOTLEY (John Lothrop, distinguished historian), 1814-1877. "_I am ill--very ill, I shall not recover._" About two o'clock in the day he complained of a feeling of faintness, said he felt ill and should not recover; and in a few minutes was insensible with symptoms of ingravescent apoplexy. There was extensive hemorrhage into the brain, as shown by postmortem examination, the cerebral vessels being atheromatous. The fatal hemorrhage had occurred into the lateral ventricles, from rupture of one of the middle cerebral arteries. _Sir William W. Gull's account of Motley's death._ MOZART (Johann Chrysostom Wolfgang Amadeus, one of the most eminent of musical composers), 1756-1792. The last words which he addressed to Sophie Haibl were, "I have the flavour of death on my tongue. I taste death; and who will support my dearest Constanze if you do not stay with her?" Later he conversed with Suessmayer over the Requiem and was heard to say, "_Did I not say that I was writing the Requiem for myself?_" This he said with tears in his eyes as he looked at the notes. Just before death he demanded to hear again the Requiem. Dr. Clossel, his physician, nodded his consent. Suessmayer sat down at the piano, Schack sang the soprano, Hofer the tenor, Gorl the bass, and the dying Mozart the alto. Softly swelled forth the ineffable music of the sweet, sorrowful, sacred death song. After this the chamber was silent as the grave. Only the clock ticked softly on the shelf, as it marked the weary hours of the passing night.--_Condensed from Sill's translation of Rau's Biographical Romance of Mozart._