"Am I not the most unfortunate and wretched parent that ever lived? I that was so silly as to presume that having ventured my life, and my very soul also, to leave my children at their ease, they would at least have had some pity on me, and endeavor to procure for me some ease and comfort in my torments. Alas! I burn insufferably, I suffer infinitely, and have done so, I know not how long; and yet this is not the only thing that grieves me. Alas, no! it is a greater vexation to me to see myself so soon forgotten by my own children, and so slighted by them, for whom I have in vain taken so much care and pains. Ah, dost thou grudge thy poor mother a Mass, a slight alms, a sigh, or a tear? Thy mother, I say, who would most willingly have kept bread from her own mouth, to make thee swim in an ocean of delights, and to abound with plenty of all worldly goods? ... Who will not refuse me comfort, when my own children, my very bowels, do their best to forget me? What a vexation is it to me, when my companions in misery ask me whether I left no children behind me, and why they are so hard-hearted as to neglect me?.... I was willing to forget my own concerns to be careful of theirs; and those ungrateful ones have now buried me in an eternal oblivion, and clearly left me to shift for myself in these dread tortures, without giving me the least ease or comfort. Oh, what a fool was I! had I given to the poor the thousandth part of those goods which I left these miserable children, I had long before this been joyfully singing the praises of my Creator, in the choir of Angels; whereas now I lie panting and groaning under excessive torments, and am like still to lie, for any relief that is to be looked for from these undutiful, ungracious children whom I made my sole heirs.... But am I not all this while strangely transported, miserable that I am, thus to amuse myself with unprofitable complaints against my children; whereas, indeed, I have but small reason to blame any but myself? since it is I, and only I, that am the cause of all this mischief. For did not I know that in the grand business of saving my soul, I was to have trusted none but myself? did I not know that with the sight of their friends, at their departure, men used to lose all the memory and friendship they had for them?.... Did I not know that God Himself had foretold us, that the only ready way to build ourselves eternal tabernacles in the next world, is not to give all to our children, but to be liberal to the poor?.... I cannot deny, then, but the fault lies at my door, and that I am deservedly thus neglected by my children.... The only comfort I have left me in all my afflictions, is, that others will learn at my cost this clear maxim: not to leave to others a matter of such near concern as the ease and repose of their own souls; but to provide for them carefully themselves. O God! how dearly have I bought this experience; to see my fault irreparable, and my misery without redress!" (Pp.