time is not without excuse. I have been sick for a long time, and in a very wearisome way. I have had an inflammation of the lungs, followed by scarlet-fever. (Perhaps you know what this horrible disease is.) I had to remain twelve days in bed, without sleep or food, without any occupation, amusing myself with leeches, with drinks, with baths, and other toys out of the same shop. This little diversion is not yet ended, for I am still very feeble."
This letter was written at the end of July.
There was a relapse, then brain fever; then finally, hardly recovered from so many violent illnesses which had weakened him morally and physically, Sadi was carried off in a few hours, August 24, 1832, by an attack of cholera. Towards the last, and as if from a dark presentiment, he had given much attention to the prevailing epidemic, following its course with the attention and penetration that he gave to everything.
Sadi Carnot died in the vigor of life, in the brightness of a career that he bade fair to run with glory, leaving memory of profound esteem and affection in the hearts of many friends.
His copy-books, filled with memoranda, attest the activity of his mind, the variety of his knowledge, his love of humanity, his clear sentiments of
