his
confessor, as if demanding absolution, according to what had been
previously concerted between them. A pressure of the eyes and an
inclination of the head were also perceptible, and he was seen to strike
his breast when he received, for the last time, the sacramental
absolution from the hands of the superior. At length the morning dawned,
which was to witness the passage of our saint from this vale of tears
and land of sorrow to a better life. It was Friday, the 5th of March, a
day yet unoccupied in the calendar, as if purposely left for him. He had
spent the previous night in unceasing fervent acts of contrition,
resignation, love, and gratitude, as his frequent beating of his breast,
lifting his hands towards heaven, and blessing himself, testified.
Before the morning was far advanced, turning to the lay-brother that
attended him, as if awoke out of an ecstasy, he said, "I have but a few
moments to live." Hereupon the lay-brother ran in all speed to give
notice to the superior, who, with the whole community, at that moment in
choir, hastened to the cell of the dying man. The recommendation of a
departing soul was recited with an abundance of tears. The
father-guardian perceiving he was in his agony, imparted to him the last
sacramental absolution; which he, bowing his head to receive, instantly
raised it again; opened, for the last time, his eyes, now swimming in
joy, and inebriated with heavenly delight; fixed them, just as they were
closing, with a look of ineffable tenderness, upon the image of Out
blessed Lady, and composing his lips to a sweet smile, without farther
movement or demonstration, ceased to breathe.

Thus expired, without a struggle, John Joseph of the Cross, the mirror
of religious life, the father of the poor, the comforter of the
distressed, and the unconquerable Christian hero: but when death came to
pluck him from the tree he dropped like a ripe fruit, smiling, into his
hands: or, even as a gentle stream steals unperceived into the ocean, so
calmly that its surface is not fretted with a ripple, his soul glided
into eternity. To die upon the field of battle, amidst the shouts of
victory, in presence of an admiring throng, surrounded by the badges of
honor and respect, bequeathing to history a celebrated name, may merit
the ambition of the world; or to perish in some noble cause, buoyed up
by enthusiasm, conscious worth, and the certainty of having the sympathy
and applause of all from whom mee