“This ceremony of electing the new pontiff was still going on, when Gregory was led out of prison, where he had been preparing himself by constant prayer for the death which he had too good reason for supposing was prepared for him. After taking him from the prison, they put him into a boat, and disembarked him on the strand of the Fanar. There the venerable old man, looking up steadfastly to heaven,[6] made the sign of the cross, and knelt down, and inclined his hoary head to the executioner’s axe; but the headsman ordered him to rise, saying that here was not the place where he was to be executed. They accordingly led him into his own palace, and there the executioner hung him as he was praying on the threshold of the principal entrance at the hour of noon on Easter Sunday—so that at the very moment when the wretched Christians above were singing the hymn of welcome to their new Patriarch, with the accustomed words εις πολλᾶ ἔτη δέσποτα, his predecessor was hung on the ground-floor like a thief and a malefactor; the very holy person who only a few hours before had offered the bloodless sacrifice for the sins of the people, and had blessed his faithful flock, who, with devoutness and contrition of heart, had kissed the hand that had been hallowed by the handling of the holiest elements. The last moments of Gregory were moments of pure faith and resignation, springing from an unspotted conscience, a heart the fountain of good deeds, a calm contempt of this ephemeral life, and a bright expectation of futurity. The writing of condemnation, by virtue of which he died, called, in Turkish, _Yiaftás_, was fixed upon the dead body, and set forth the causes of his death as follows.”