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was sadly apparent to those who formed the circle of her intimates in Dublin. Her constitution, never strong, was probably unable to resist with impunity the feverish excitement attendant on a life of such unremitted mental exertion, and the hectic changes, which latterly passed over her countenance, too clearly indicated to her anxious friends, what was working within. Yet while all around her were filled with painful, but too well-grounded apprehensions, she did not for some time appear sensible of the fearful encroachments which an insidious disease was silently making on a frame so delicate in texture. It was only a few months before her death, when staying at the country-seat of the Archbishop of Dublin (which that distinguished prelate had kindly placed at her disposal), that she began to entertain a deep presentiment that life was drawing to a close. Her mind, naturally meditative and melancholy, seemed gradually to become imbued with a deep consciousness of her