The passing of the mighty spirit of Leibnitz from this scene of
existence was a deeply impressive scene. He had suffered from occasional
illness during several preceding years. These attacks, however, passed
away, and the philosopher resumed his speculations with renewed energy.
In November, 1716, his complaint returned with great violence.
"The closing scene suggests gloomy reflections, as the lurid glare,
which, during his extraordinary life, had attracted the eyes of the
world, disappears; while we have not the record we could desire,
indicating that the moral sensibilities of the Philosopher were rightly
alive to the decisive nature of the awful change. His seventy years are
ended, and the lightning seems lost among dark clouds. During the last
day of his life, we are told, he was buried in conversation with his
physician on the nature of his disease, and on the doctrines of alchymy.
Towards evening, his servant asked him if he would receive the
Eucharist. 'Let me alone,' said he, 'I have done ill to no one. I have
nothing to confess. All must die.' He raised himself on his bed, and
tried to write. The darkness of death was gathering around him. He found
himself unable to read what he had written. He tore the paper, and,
lying down, covered his face, and a few minutes after 9 o'clock, on the
evening of the 14th of November, 1716, he ceased to breathe! It is most
solemn to contemplate a human spirit, whose course of thought throughout
life was unsurpassed for power of speculation, and daring range of mind
among the higher objects of knowledge, and which, at the period of its
departure, was in the depths of a controversy about the mysteries of a
supersensible world--thus summoned into that world, to become conversant
in its final relations with that Being who had entrusted it with such
mental power, and whose nature and attributes had so often tasked its
speculative energies."--_North British Review._
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