Notwithstanding his grievous infirmities our leader attended to the duties of his office to within eight days of his end, when for the last time, in his priestly robes, he officiated at a love feast, and seeing that his end was nigh he consecrated Brother Philemon and Brother Eleazer and myself to the priesthood, from which his successor should be selected. While in such suffering he received word, only three days before his death, that one of our oldest housemothers was breathing her last, and that she wished to see our leader even if he could not speak to her. So with him leaning on my arm we went to our dear sister's, thereby fulfilling her wish. "At last," so our _Chronicon_ states, "Wednesday, the sixth day of July of the year 1768 came when he laid aside his mortal raiment." On that morning, having rallied somewhat, he attended prayers in the Sisters' _Saal_, and sought earnestly for reconciliation with our prioress, but in vain. As he returned to his cabin, sad at heart--for with all his fiery nature he ever strove to merit his favorite name, Father Friedsam Gottrecht (Father Peaceful Godright)--none of us thought his departure was so near; for the powers of darkness, as he said, could not prevail upon him to lie down. Meanwhile the Brethren kept a constant watch, for many of our little flock looked for great happenings, feeling assured the powers of death would have no easy struggle with such an old soldier of the cross, who was neither accustomed to call on men for mercy nor to yield to the powers of darkness. But by the time the sun had stood at midday, we could see the end was near, and all the Solitary and the near-by householders gathered about him in his little cabin, soon filling it, many standing outside the doorway. On his little bench, as hard and uncomfortable as any of ours--for he scorned any comforts denied to his disciples--sat our little ruler, gaunt, wasted, his features thin and drawn, and eyes sunken. Around him clustered the Brethren of Bethania, sad and silent, but not shedding any tears to annoy his stubborn spirit. Back of the Brethren stood the Sisters, some of the shorter ones on a bench, and most of them weeping quietly despite their fortitude. All was silence and expectation. But though within the cabin reigned the darkness of death, outside under the glowing sun all was life and brightness, like the glorious radiance that would burst through the gates of death, for our beloved leader. Over an hour we stood, not saying a word, but all the while our brother becoming weaker and weaker from the great heat and the stifling air in so small a cabin. At last he broke the silence and asked the Brethren to bless him and receive his memory into their fellowship. Then I anointed him with the holy oil, and as I spread the sacred chrism upon his forehead I gave him my blessing with the laying on of hands, after which all the Brethren in turn gave him the kiss of peace to take with him on his journey.