creatures does this convince me we mortals are at best!--But what then
must be the case of such a profligate as I, who by a past wicked life
have added greater force to these natural terrors? If death be so
repugnant a thing to human nature, that good men will be startled at it,
what must it be to one who has lived a life of sense and appetite; nor
ever reflected upon the end which I now am within view of?

What could I say to an inference so fairly drawn? Mercy, mercy,
unbounded mercy, was still my plea, though his repeated opposition of
justice to it, in a manner silenced that plea: and what would I have
given to have had rise in my mind, one good, eminently good action to
have remembered him of, in order to combat his fears with it?

I believe, Lovelace, I shall tire thee, and that more with the subject
of my letter, than even with the length of it. But really, I think thy
spirits are so offensively up since thy recovery, that I ought, as the
melancholy subjects offer, to endeavour to reduce thee to the standard
of humanity, by expatiating upon them. And then thou canst not but be
curious to know every thing that concerns the poor man, for whom thou
hast always expressed a great regard. I will therefore proceed as I have
begun. If thou likest not to read it now, lay it by, if thou wilt, till
the like circumstances befall thee, till like reflections from those
circumstances seize thee; and then take it up, and compare the two cases
together.


***


At his earnest request, I sat up with him last night; and, poor man! it