Tardy regrets of a dying man

O fool that I have been! — the poor sick man will say, — with the lights and opportunities that God gave me I could have become a Saint! And now I shall scarcely save my soul! The sick man will wish for time, but the assisting Priest will say: Go forth! Do you not know that death will wait for no one?

I. The dying man who has neglected the salvation of his soul, will find thorns in everything that is presented to him — thorns in the remembrance of his past amusements, rivalries overcome, and the former display of pomp; thorns in the friends who will visit him, and in whatever their presence shall bring before his mind; thorns in the confessors who may in turn assist him; thorns in the Sacraments of Penance, Eucharist, and Extreme Unction, which he must receive; thorns even in the Crucifix placed before him. In that Sacred Image he will read his want of correspondence to the love of a God Who died for his salvation.

O fool that I have been! the poor sick man will say, with the lights and opportunities that God gave me, I could have become a Saint! I could have led a life of happiness in the grace of God, and after the many years He gave me, what do I find but torment, distrust, fears, remorse of conscience, and an account to render to God! I shall now scarcely save my soul! And when will he say this? When the oil in the lamp is just being consumed, and the scene of this world is about to close forever; when he finds himself face to face with two eternities, one happy, the other miserable; when he is near that last gasp on which depends his everlasting bliss or eternal despair. What would he then give for another year, month, or even another week, with the perfect use of his faculties? In the stupefaction, oppression of the chest, and difficulty of breathing under which he labours, he can do nothing; he is incapable of reflection, or of applying his mind to the performance of any good act: he is, as it were, shut up in a dark pit of confusion, where he can see nothing but the ruin that threatens him, and which he feels himself unable to avert. He would wish for time; but the assisting priest shall say to him, Proficiscere! — Go forth! Adjust your accounts as well as you can in the few moments that remain, and depart. Do you not know that death waits for no one, respects no one?

Ah, my God, Thou willest not my death, but that I be converted and live. I thank Thee for having waited for me till now, and I thank Thee for the light which Thou givest me at this moment. I know the error I have committed in preferring to Thy friendship the vile and miserable goods for which I have despised Thee. I repent, and am sorry with my whole heart for having done Thee so great an injury.

II. Oh! with what dismay will he then say to himself: This morning I am alive; this evening I shall probably be dead! Today I am in this room; tomorrow I shall be in the grave! And where will my soul be found? With what terror will he be seized when he sees the death candle prepared! When he hears his relatives ordered to withdraw from his apartment, and to return to it no more! When his sight begins to grow dim! Finally, how great will be his alarm and confusion when he sees that death is at hand and the candle is lighted! O candle, how many truths will you then disclose to view! How different will you make things appear then from what they appear at present! O how clearly will you show the dying sinner that all the goods of this world are vanities, folly, and lies! But of what use is it to understand these truths when the time is past for profiting by them?

Ah, my God, cease not during the remainder of my life to assist me by Thy light and Thy grace to know and to do all that I ought to do in order to amend my life. What will it profit me to know these truths when I shall be deprived of the time in which they may be reduced to practice? Deliver not up to beasts the souls that confess to thee (Ps. lxxiii. 19). When the devil tempts me to offend Thee again, ah! I entreat Thee, my Jesus, through the merits of Thy Passion to stretch forth Thy hand and to preserve me from falling into sin, and becoming again the slave of my enemies. Grant that in all temptations I may have recourse to Thee, and that I may not cease to recommend myself to Thee as long as the temptations continue. Thy Blood is my hope, and Thy goodness my love. I love Thee, my God, worthy of infinite love. Grant that I may always love Thee. Make known to me the things from which I ought to detach my heart, that I may be entirely Thine: I wish to detach my heart from them: but give me strength to execute this desire. O Queen of Heaven! O Mother of God, pray for me, a sinner. Obtain for me the grace that in all temptations I may never omit to have recourse to Jesus and to thee, who, by thy intercession, dost preserve from sin all who invoke thee.