cumstances being from his
hand, than if I had been in the most prosperous condition of life. But
now, when I began to be sick, and a leisure view of the miseries of
death came to place itself before me; when my spirits began to sink
under the burden of a strong distemper, and nature was exhausted with
the violence of the fever; conscience, that had slept so long, began to
awake; and I reproached myself with my past life, in which I had so
evidently, by uncommon wickedness, provoked the justice of God to lay me
under uncommon strokes, and to deal with me in so vindictive a manner.
These reflections oppressed me for the second or third day of my
distemper; and in the violence, as well of the fever as of the dreadful
reproaches of my conscience, extorted from me some words like praying to
God: though I cannot say it was a prayer attended either with desires or
with hopes; it was rather the voice of mere fright and distress. My
thoughts were confused; the convictions great upon my mind; and the
horror of dying in such a miserable condition, raised vapours in my head
with the mere apprehension: and, in these hurries of my soul, I knew not
what my tongue might express: but it was rather exclamation, such as,
"Lord, what a miserable creature am I! If I should be sick, I shall
certainly die for want of help; and what will become of me?" Then the
tears burst out of my eyes, and I could say no more for a good while. In
this interval, the good advice of my father came to my mind, and
presently his prediction, which I mentioned at the beginning of this
story, viz. that if I did take this foolish step, God would not bless
me; and I should have leisure hereafter to reflect upon having neglected
his counsel, when there might be none to assist in my recovery. "Now,"
said I, aloud, "my dear father's words are come to pass; God's justice
has overtaken me, and I have none to help or hear me. I rejected the
voice of Providence, which had mercifully put me in a station of life
wherein I might have been happy and easy; but I would neither see it
myself, nor learn from my parents to know the blessing of it. I left
them to mourn over my folly; and now I am left to mourn under the
consequences of it: I refused their help and assistance, who would have
pushed me in the world, and would have made every thing easy to me; and
now I have difficulties to struggle with, too great for even nature
itself to support; and no assistance, no comfort, no advic