"Poh, poh, it is not true. You were not sent with any such impertinent message. Jarvis, make her go away. Pshaw, he would not send such a foolish ugly old woman as you are about with his messages. Go away, go back, shut the door." The old lady raised her hands and walked away in mute astonishment. Another instance of the kind happened about a fortnight before his death. Two priests, of the name of Milledollar and Cunningham, came to him, and the latter introduced himself and his companion in the following words, "Mr. Paine, we visit you as friends and neighbours. You have now a full view of death: you cannot live long, and 'whosoever does not believe in Jesus Christ will assuredly be damned.'"-"Let me," replied Mr. Paine, "have none of your Popish stuff. Get away with you. Good morning, good morning." Mr. Milledollar attempted to address him, but he was interrupted with the same language. A few days after those same priests had the impudence to come again, but the nurse was afraid to admit them. Even the doctor who attended him in his last minutes took the latest possible opportunity to ask him, "Do you wish to believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God?" to which Mr. Paine replied, "I have no wish to believe on the subject." These were his last words, for he died the following morning about nine o'clock, about nine hours after the Doctor had left him. Mr. Paine, over and above what might have been expected of him, seemed much concerned about what spot his body should be laid in some time before his death. He requested permission to be interred in the Quaker's Burial Ground, saying that they were the most moral and upright sect of Christians; but this was peremptorily refused to him in his life-time, and gave him much uneasiness, or such as might not have been expected from such a man. On this refusal he ordered his body to be interred on his own farm, and a stone placed over it with the following inscription: THOMAS PAINE, AUTHOR OF COMMON SENSE, DIED JUNE 8, 1809, AGED 72 YEARS AND FIVE MONTHS.