"You are desirous of hearing from me how that Phoenix of Literature, Hugo Grotius, behaved in his last moments, and I am going to tell you. He embarked at Stockholm for Lubeck; and after having been tossed for three days by a violent tempest, he was shipwrecked and got to shore on the coast of Pomerania, from whence he came to our town of Rostock, distant above sixty miles, in an open waggon, through wind and rain. He lodged with Balleman; and sent for M. Stochman, the physician, who observing that he was extremely weakened by years, by what he suffered at sea, and the inconveniences attending the journey, judged that he could not live long. The second day after Grotius's arrival in this town, that is, on the 18th of August, O.S. he sent for me about nine at night. I went, and found him almost at the point of death. I said there was nothing I desired more than to have seen him in health, that I might have the pleasure of his conversation. He answered, God had ordered it otherwise. I desired him to prepare himself for a happier life, to acknowledge that he was a sinner, and to repent of his faults: and happening to mention the publican, who acknowledged that he was a sinner, and asked God's mercy, he answered: _I am that publican._ I went on, and told him, that he must have recourse to Jesus Christ, without whom there is no salvation. He replied, _I place all my hope in Jesus Christ._ I began to repeat aloud in German the prayer which begins _Herr Jesu_[437]; he followed me, in a very low voice, with his hands clasped. When I had done, I asked him, if he understood me. He answered, _I understand you very well._ I continued to repeat to him those passages of the word of God which are commonly offered to the remembrance of dying persons, and asking him if he understood me, he answered, _I heard your voice, but did not understand what you said._ These were his last words: soon after he expired, just at midnight. His body was delivered to the Physicians; who took out his bowels. I easily obtained leave to bury them in our principal Church, which is dedicated to the Virgin." Thus died this celebrated man, on the 28th of August at night, or rather in the morning of the 29th, 1645. A number of falshoods were published on occasion of his death. Du Maurier relates[438], that a Roman Catholic Priest, and Ministers of different persuasions, hearing that Grotius was dying, came to him to dispose him to die in their communion: that he made them no answer, but, _I don't understand you_; and on their silence said to them, _Exhort me to die like a Christian._