mercies of some of her
own sex as hardened as herself, among whom she has sunk, and groaned,
and died.

Which way, then, shall this aged sinner turn his eyes? Every scene,
every place, every month and day of his life, which he can call to
remembrance, reminds him of some sin. Shall he look to some of his
more reputable actions? Alas, even when his conduct has been most
creditable, his motives have been unchristian and impure. "True, I
have had some character," he now says to himself, "but I have had no
title to it. Men have not known me; or if a few have known me, and yet
praised me, they have praised me because they have wanted to carry
some point of their own by pleasing me: nay, my companions have even
praised me for what was evil, for the same people seem now, methinks,
to blame me in proportion as they discern any thing in me that is
good." Thus the recollection of the applauses he used to receive from
these wicked men is one aggravation of his pain.

But shall he look to his more innocent and early years? Alas, the
review of his infancy only serves to remind him how naturally and how
soon he went astray; how soon "he forsook the guide of his youth, and
forgot the covenant of his God." Thus, if he looks backward, all is
misery, and horror, and despair. Shall he then look forward and
comfort himself by thinking how effectually he will repair all the
evil he has done? But how shall he now repair it? Of those whom he has
corrupted many are dead, and of the survivors very few can now be
found. Go, then, and bring these few back to God. Alas, one will mock,
another will dissemble, a third will despise. Go, try to reclaim even
the children of thine own loins, who are all trained through thy means
in an evil course. Nay, even these also will scoff at thy rebuke, and
say, "Our old father is grown troublesome and peevish through age; he
is turned religious only because he has just done with this life, and
has one foot in the grave."

What then, I say, can this aged sinner do to remedy the evils he has
caused? He can only abhor himself for what is past, and repent
sincerely of all that he has done. See him then at length abhorring
himself, and "repenting in dust and ashes." See him retiring to his
chamber, and, for the first time, communing seriously with his own
heart. See him reviewing the whole of his past life, from the first
dawn of reason to the present hour, endeavoring to survey with
exactness his thoughts, word