After the Ilinois, filled with great esteem for the Gospel, had
taken leave of the Father, he continued his journey, and shortly
after reached the lake of the Ilinois, upon whose waters he had
to journey nearly a hundred leagues, by an unknown route whereon
he had never before traveled; for he was obliged to coast along
the southern shore of the lake, having come by the northern. But
his strength was so rapidly diminishing that his two men despaired
of being able to bring him alive to the end of their journey. Indeed,
he became so feeble and exhausted that he was unable to assist
or even to move himself, and had to be handled and carried about
like a child.
Meanwhile, he preserved in that condition an admirable equanimity,
resignation, joy, and gentleness, consoling his dear companions
and encouraging them to suffer patiently all the hardships of
that voyage, in the assurance that Cod would not abandon them
after
his death. It was during this voyage that he began to make more
special preparation for death. He held Communion, sometimes with
our Lord, sometimes with his Holy Mother, or with his guardian
angel, or with all Paradise. He was often heard repeating these
words: Credo quod redemptor meus vivit; or, maria, mater gratiae,
mater dei, memento mei. In addition to the spiritual exercise,
which was read to him every day, he requested toward the close
that they would read to him his meditation preparatory for death,
which he carried about with him. I le recited every day his breviary;
and although he was so low that his sight and strength were greatly
enfeebled, he continued to do so to the last day of his life,
despite the remonstrance of his companions.
Eight days before his death, he was thoughtful enough to prepare
the holy water for use during the rest of his illness, in his
agony, and at his burial; and he instructed his companions
how it should
be used.
The evening before his death, which was a Friday, he told them,
very joyously that it would take place on the morrow. He
conversed with them during the whole day as to what would need
to be
done for his burial; about the manner in which they should
inter him;
of the spot that should be chosen for his grave; how his
feet, his hands, and his face should be arranged; how they
should
erect a cross over his grave. He even went so far as to counsel
them,
3 hours before he expired, that as soon as he was dead they
should take the little hand bell of his chapel, and sound
it while he
was being put under ground. I le spoke of all these things
with so great tranquility and presence of mind that one might
have
supposed that he was concerned with the death and funeral
of some other
person, and not with his own.
Thus did he converse with them as they made their way upon
the lake, until, having perceived a river, on the shore
of which
stood an eminence that he deemed well suited to be the
place of his interment,
he told them that that was the place of his last repose.
They wished, however, to proceed farther, as the weather
was favorable,
and
the day was not far advanced; but God raised a contrary
wind, which compelled them to return, and enter the river which
the Father
had pointed out. They accordingly brought him to the land,
lighted a little fire for him, and prepared for him a wretched
cabin
of bark. They laid him down therein, in the least uncomfortable
way
that they could; but they were so stricken with sorrow
that,
as they have since said, they hardly knew what they were
doing.
The Father, being thus stretched on the ground in much
the same way as was St. Francis Xavier, as he had always
so passionately
desired, and finding himself alone in the midst of these
forests for his companions were occupied with the disembarkation,
he
had leisure to repeat all the last acts in which he had
continued during
these last days.
His dear companions having afterward joined him, all disconsolate,
he comforted them, and inspired them with the confidence
that God would take care of them after his death, in
these new and
unknown
countries. He gave them the last instructions, thanked
them for all the charities which they had exercised in
his behalf
during
the whole journey, and entreated pardon for the trouble
that he had given them. He charged them to ask pardon
for him
also, from
all our Fathers and brethren who live in the country
of the Outaouacs. Then he undertook to prepare them for the
sacrament
of penance,
which he administered to them for the last time. I le
gave
them also a paper on which he had written all his faults
since his
own last confession, that they might place it in the
hands of the Father
Superior that the latter might be enabled to pray to
God for him in a more special manner. Finally, he promised
not to forget
them
in Paradise; and, as he was very considerate, knowing
that they were much fatigued with the hardships of the preceding
days,
he bade them go and take a little repose. He assured
them
that his
hour was not yet so very near, and that he would awaken
them when the time should come as, in fact, 2 or 3 hours
afterward
he did
summon them, being ready to enter into the agony.
They drew near to him, and he embraced them once again,
while they burst into tears at his feet. Then he asked
for holy
water and
his reliquary; and having himself removed his crucifix,
which he carried always suspended round his neck, he
placed
it in the
hands of one
of his companions, begging him to hold it before his
eyes. Then, feeling that he had but a short time to
live, he
made a last
effort, clasped his hands, and, with a steady and fond
look upon his crucifix,
he uttered aloud his profession of faith, and gave
thanks to the Divine Majesty for the great favor which
He accorded
him
of dying
in the Society, of dying in it as a missionary of Jesus
Christ, and, above all, of dying, as he had always
prayed, in a wretched
cabin in the midst of the forests and bereft of all
human succor.
After that, he was silent, communing within himself
with God. Nevertheless he let escape from time to
time these
words, Sustinuit
anima mea
in verbo ejus; or these, Mater Dei, memento mei which
were the last words he uttered before entering his
agony, which
was, however,
very mild and peaceful.
He prayed his companions to put him in mind, when
they should see him about to expire, to repeat
frequently the names of
Jesus and
Mary, if he could not himself do so. They did as
they
were bidden; and, when they believed him to be
near his end,
one of them called
aloud, "Jesus, Mary!" The dying man repeated
the words distinctly, several times; and as if,
at these sacred names, something
presented itself to him, he suddenly raised his
eyes above his crucifix, holding them riveted on
that object, which he appeared
to regard with pleasure. And so, with a countenance
beaming and all aglow, he expired without any struggle,
and so gently that
it might have been regarded as a pleasant sleep.
His two poor companions, shedding many tears over
him, composed his body in the manner which he
had prescribed
to them. Then
they carried him devoutly to burial, ringing
the while the little bell
as he had bidden them; and planted a large cross
near his grave, as a sign to passers by.
When it became a question of embarking, to proceed
on their journey, one of the two, who for some
days had
been so
heartsick with
sorrow, and so greatly prostrated with an internal
malady, that he could
no longer eat or breathe except with difficulty,
bethought himself, while the other was making
all preparations
for embarking, to
visit the grave of his good Father, and ask
his intercession with the
glorious Virgin, as he had promised, not doubting
in the least that he was in Heaven. He fell,
then, upon
his knees,
made
a short prayer, and having reverently taken
some earth from the
tomb, he
pressed it to his breast. Immediately his sickness
abated, and his sorrow was changed into a joy
which did not forsake
him during
the remainder of his journey.
