when

"Pensive memory lingers o'er
Those scenes to be enjoyed no more,
Those scenes regretted ever,"

how dark and painful must be the shadows which then sweep over his penitent
spirit! "If thou art a child, and hast ever added a sorrow to the soul or
a furrow to the silvered brow of an affectionate parent; if thou art a
husband, and hast ever caused the fond bosom that ventured its whole
happiness in thy arms, to doubt one moment of thy kindness or thy truth; if
thou art a friend, and hast ever wronged the spirit that generously
confided in thee; if thou art a lover, and hast ever given one unmerited
pang to that true heart that now lies cold and still beneath thy feet; then
be sure that every unkind look, every ungracious word, every ungentle
action, will come thronging back upon thy memory; then be sure that thou
wilt lie down sorrowing and penitent on the grave!"

If we would avoid the agony of declining age, let us be faithful to our
childhood-home. What must be the anguish of that wretch who has brought
infamy upon it; how painful must be every recollection of it, when in the
distance of years and of space, from its scenes and its loved ones, his
remembrance hails them with its burning tear.

"I am far from the home that gave me birth,
A blight is on my name;
It only brings to my father's hearth
The memory of shame;
Yet, oh! do they think of me to-day,
The loved ones lingering there;