t indeed have been an unfeeling one, to which a scene like
this would not have been deeply touching and impressive. The poor dying
woman reclined with her head upon her husband's bosom; the daughter
knelt at the bed-side, with her mother's hand pressed against her lips,
she herself convulsed with sorrow--the priest was in the attitude of
earnest supplication, having the stole about his neck, his face and arms
raised towards heaven--the son-in-law was bent over a chair, with his
face buried in his hands. Nothing could exceed the deep, the powerful
expression of entreaty, which marked every tone and motion of the
parties, especially those of the husband and daughter. They poured an
energy into the few words which they found voice to utter, and displayed
such a concentration of the faculties of the soul in their wild
unregulated attitudes, and streaming, upturned eyes, as would seem to
imply that their own salvation depended upon that of the beloved object
before them. Their words, too, were accompanied by such expressive
tokens of their attachment to her, that the character of prayer was
heightened by the force of the affection which they bore her. When
Peter, for instance, could command himself to utter a word, he pressed
his dying wife to his bosom, and raised his eyes to heaven in a manner
that would have melted any human heart; and the daughter, on joining
occasionally in the response, pressed her mother's hand to her heart,
and kissed it with her lips, conscious that the awful state of her
parent had rendered more necessary the performance of the two tenderest
duties connected with a child's obedience--prayer and affection.

When the son-in-law had finished his Decade, a pause followed, for there
was none now to proceed but her husband, or her daughter.

"Mary, dear," said the priest, "be a woman; don't let your love for
your mother prevent you from performing a higher duty. Go on with the
prayer--you see she is passing fast."

"I'll try, uncle," she replied--"I'll try; but--but--it's hard, hard,
upon me."

She commenced, and by an uncommon effort so far subdued her grief, as
to render her words intelligible. Her eyes, streaming with tears, were
fixed with a mixture of wildness, sorrow, and devotedness, upon the
countenance of her mother, until she had completed her Decade.

Another pause ensued. It was now necessary, according to the order
and form of the Prayer, that Peter should commence and offer up his
supp