His confidence in God did not forsake him to the last moment. “Our Saviour,” says he, “raised Lazarus from the dead after the fourth day. He could also snatch me from prison and death,--I, an unfortunate man, if it were for his glory, for the advantage of the faithful, and my own good.”[7] And yet, when in chains, and awaiting death, he is more occupied with the interests of others than his own; his soul, calm, pious, and compassionate, sympathizes with all around him; his jailors are exhorted and instructed by him. He thinks with tenderness of his disciples, of the faithful believers of his church, of his friends; the sight of his benefactors draws tears from his eyes, and he writes to them in these touching terms, “Generous Seigniors, my comforters and faithful defenders of the truth, you whom God has sent me as my angels, I cannot fully express how much I am grateful for so much constancy, and for all the charitable kindness you have shewn to me, a weak sinner, but servant in hope of Jesus Christ.”[8] His poverty being great, he regrets not being able to remunerate his friends who have assisted him with money. He bequeaths them all he possesses, which is but little; for the surplus of his debts he addresses an appeal, with a confidence altogether Christian, to all who are rich, and conjures them to pay for him those who are poor. He promises them, in exchange for the worldly riches which they advance to him, spiritual and imperishable wealth.[9] Every word that falls from his lips or his pen affords signs of that virtue so well defined by the apostle; of that charity, so mild, patient, and benevolent, to which nothing is indifferent, because in everything it finds an opportunity of exercising itself usefully, and fulfilling a duty. At the approach of death, he feels his ardent zeal redoubled for the salvation of his brethren and dear disciples, and includes in the same solicitude all those who have listened to his preaching; and in his last exhortations no one is excepted. When on the point of appearing before the King of Heaven, all earthly distinctions vanish before his eyes; and the soul of the obscure workman is to him as precious as that of the monarch. His own soul presents an unalterable calm amidst the most cruel pains, and sometimes unbends to a sweet and tranquil gaiety. Though a prey to so many outrages, he utters neither threat nor murmur; he pardons his enemies; he blesses and adores the hand of God which tries him, and sees in these rigours only marks of his love. Shortly before his death he writes to his friends thus:--“When we shall meet hereafter in a happy eternity, you will know with what clemency the Lord deigns to assist me in my trials.”[10]