had
promised! But Bernadette had not a doubt; she willingly undertook all the
little commissions with which her companions naively entrusted her for
Heaven: "Sister Marie-Bernard, you'll say this, you'll say that, to the
Almighty." "Sister Marie-Bernard, you'll kiss my brother if you meet him
in Paradise." "Sister Marie-Bernard, give me a little place beside you
when I die." And she obligingly answered each one: "Have no fear, I will
do it!" Ah! all-powerful illusion, delicious repose, power ever reviving
and consolatory!

* Song of Solomon iv. 12.

And then came the last agony, then came death.

On Friday, March 28, 1879, it was thought that she would not last the
night. She had a despairing longing for the tomb, in order that she might
suffer no more, and live again in heaven. And thus she obstinately
refused to receive extreme unction, saying that twice already it had
cured her. She wished, in short, that God would let her die, for it was
more than she could bear; it would have been unreasonable to require that
she should suffer longer. Yet she ended by consenting to receive the
sacraments, and her last agony was thereby prolonged for nearly three
weeks. The priest who attended her frequently said: "My daughter, you
must make the sacrifice of your life"; and one day, quite out of
patience, she sharply answered him: "But, Father, it is no sacrifice." A
terrible saying, that also, for it implied disgust at _being_, furious
contempt for existence, and an immediate ending of her humanity, had she
had the power to suppress herself by a gesture. It is true that the poor
girl had nothing to regret, that she had been compelled to banish
everything from her life, health, joy, and love, so that she might leave
it as one casts off a soiled, worn, tattered garment. And she was right;
she condemned her useless, cruel life when she said: "My passion will
finish only at my death; it will not cease until I enter into eternity."
And this idea of her passion pursued her, attaching her more closely to
the cross with her Divine Master. She had induced them to give her a
large crucifix; she pressed it vehemently against her poor maidenly
breast, exclaiming that she would like to thrust it into her bosom and
leave it there. Towards the end, her strength completely forsook her, and
she could no longer grasp the crucifix with her trembling hands. "Let it
be tightly tied to me," she prayed, "that I may feel it until my last
breath!" The