The winter of 378–9 dealt the last blow, and with the first day of what, to us, is now the new year, the great spirit fled.  Gregory, alas! was not at the bedside.  But he has left us a narrative which bears the stamp of truth.  For some time the bystanders thought that the dying bishop had ceased to breathe.  Then the old strength blazed out at the last.  He spoke with vigour, and even ordained some of the faithful who were with him.  Then he lay once more feeble and evidently passing away.  Crowds surrounded his residence, praying eagerly for his restoration to them, and willing to give their lives for his.  With a few final words of advice and exhortation, he said:  “Into thy hands I commend my spirit,” and so ended.