An', Bryan, listen to the words of your dyin' mother--" "Oh, don't say that yet, mother," replied her son, sobbing; "don't say so yet; who knows but God will spare your life, an' that you may be many years with us still; they're all alarmed too much, I hope; but it's no wondher we should, mother dear, when there's any appearance at all of danger about you." "Well, whether or not, Bryan, the advice I'm goin' to give you is never out o' saison.

Live always with the fear of God in your heart; do nothing that you think will displease Him; love your fellow-creatures--serve them and relieve their wants an' distresses as far as you're able; be like your own father--kind and good to all about you, not neglectin' your religious duties.

Do this, Bryan, an' then when the hour o' death comes, you'll feel a comfort an' happiness in your heart that neither the world nor anything in it can give you.

You'll feel the peace of God there, an' you will die happy--happy." Her spirit, animated by the purity and religious truth of this simple but beautiful morality, kindled into pious fervor as she proceeded, so much so indeed, that on turning her eyes towards heaven, whilst she uttered the last words, they sparkled with the mild and serene light of that simple but unconscious enthusiasm on behalf of all goodness which had characterized her whole life, and which indeed is a living principle among thousands of her humble countrywomen.
"This, dear Bryan, is the advice I gave to them all; it an' my love is the only legacy I have to lave them.

An' my darlin' Dora, Bryan--oh, if you be kind and tendher to any one o' them beyant another, be so to her.