"His ordinary reading, for many years of his life, had been the sacred Scriptures, which were so familiar to him that he spoke of little else. He mentioned to the father abbot so many passages, and repeated them in a manner so touching, so animated, and so devotional, that his hearers were at once edified and astonished. Those passages which were uppermost in his mind respected chiefly the majesty of God; but as he had a most humble opinion of his own life, which had however been, in the main, faithful and pure, he always reverted to the subject of the divine compassion. It was in that he found peace and repose. "On the day of the Assumption, he felt himself so weak that he was unable to leave the infirmary. The father abbot carried him our Lord, whom he received upon his knees, leaning on two of his brethren. Two days afterward, he fell into strong convulsions, and imagined that the hour of his deliverance was come. The father abbot asked, 'Is it with joy that you depart?' 'Yes,' said he, 'from my very heart.' He then added, 'Into thy hands I commend my spirit.' "The customary prayers were then offered up for the dying; but the convulsions having left him, the father abbot said that the hour of God was not arrived; and having given orders to remove him from the ashes to his bed, he turned to the father abbot with a serene countenance, and said, 'The will of God be done.' He lived three days waiting with anxiety the time when God would have mercy upon him. And such was his desire of death that the father abbot was obliged more than once to say to him that it was not for him to anticipate the designs of Providence. His pangs lasted till within an hour of his death, but he endured them with his accustomed patience and serenity. He said three days before his death that the most dangerous moments were the last, and that he did not doubt the great enemy of man would seek to disquiet him, and therefore requested the prayers of the community. The father abbot, having asked, after some other general discourse, if he knew the guilt of sin, he answered sighing, and, as it were, looking into the recesses of his own soul, and in language expressive of the intensity of his feelings, 'Alas! once I knew it not; but now I see in the Scripture that God claims, as one of his chief attributes, the power of pardoning sin; "I am he who blotteth out your iniquities." I am therefore convinced that sin is a tremendous offence. I am far, indeed, from being like those who are always overwhelmed with a consciousness of their offences, but yet I believe, upon the testimony of faith and Scripture, that sin is a fathomless gulf of ruin.' These words were accompanied with a manner so extraordinary that they touched the very hearts