details of his sudden death.

For months before it must be said Favre had been growing old. The man of
broad shoulders and with head covered with thick hair in which here and
there a few silver threads showed themselves, and who was as straight as
at the age of twenty years, had begun to stoop, his hair had whitened
and his face had assumed an expression of sadness that it was difficult
for him to conceal. As powerful as it was this character had been
subjugated. The transformation had not escaped me. Often during the days
that we passed together he complained of a dizziness that became more
and more frequent. We all saw him rapidly growing old. On the 19th of
July, 1879, he had entered the tunnel with one of his friends, a French
engineer who had come to visit the work, accompanied by M. Stockalper.
Up to the end of the adit he had complained of nothing, but, according
to his habit, went along examining the timbers, stopping at different
points to give instructions, and making now and then a sally at his
friend, who was unused to the smell of dynamite. In returning he began
to complain of internal pains. "My dear Stockalper," said he, "take my
lamp, I will join you." At the end of ten minutes not seeing him return,
M. Stockalper exclaimed, "Well! M. Favre, are you coming?" No answer.
The visitor and engineer retraced their steps, and when they reached
Favre he was leaning against the rocks with his head resting upon his
breast. His heart had already ceased to beat. A train loaded with
excavated rock was passing and on this was laid the already stiff body
of him who had struggled up to his last breath to execute a work all
science and labor. A glorious end, if ever there was one!

Favre died in the full plenitude of his forces at less than fifty four
years of age, and I can say, without fear of contradiction, that he was
universally and sincerely regretted by all those who had worked at his