of her manifold kindness, the memory
of that reproachful look she gave me will bite like a serpent and
sting like an adder."

And when your mother dies, do you not think that you will feel remorse
for every unkind word you have uttered, and for every act of
ingratitude? Your beloved parents must soon die. You will probably be
led into their darkened chamber, to see them pale and helpless on
their dying bed. Oh, how will you feel in that solemn hour! All your
past life will come to your mind, and you will think that you would
give worlds, if you could blot out the remembrance of past
ingratitude. You will think that, if your father or mother should
only get well, you would never do any thing to grieve them again. But
the hour for them to die must come. You may weep as though your heart
would break, but it will not recall the past, and it will not delay
their death. They must die; and you will probably gaze upon their
cold and lifeless countenances in the coffin. You will follow them to
the grave, and see them buried for ever from your sight. Oh, how
unhappy you will feel, if you then have to reflect upon your
misconduct! The tears you will shed over their graves will be the
more bitter, because you will feel that, perhaps, your own misconduct
hastened their death.

But perhaps you will die before your parents do. If you go into the
grave-yard, you will see the graves of many children. You know that
the young are liable to die, as well as the old. And what must be
the feelings of the dying child, who knows that he is going to appear
before God in judgment, and yet feels conscious that he has been
unkind to his parents! Oh, such a child must fear to go into the
presence of his Maker. He must know that God will never receive into
heaven children who have been so wicked. I have seen many children
die. And I have seen some, who had been very amiable and pleasant all
their lives, when they came to die, feel grieved that they had not
been more careful to make their parents happy. I knew one
affectionate little girl, who was loved by all who knew her. She
hardly ever did any thing which was displeasing to her parents. But
one day she was taken sick. The doctor was called: but she grew worse
and worse. Her parents watched over her with anxiety and tears, but
still her fever raged, and death drew nearer. At last all hopes of
her recovery were over, and it was known that she must die. Then did
this little girl, when she felt tha