When Nature gave us
Tears, she gave us leave to weep. A long Separation from those who
are so near a-kin to us in Flesh and Blood, will touch the Heart in a
painful Place, and awaken the tenderest Springs of Sorrow. The
Sluices must be allowed to be held open a little; _Nature_ seems to
demand it as a Debt to _Love_. When _Lazarus_ died, _Jesus_ groaned
and wept.
I shall only add by way of Conclusion an _Epitaph_ upon an
Infant: It is taken from a Tombstone in a little obscure Village in
_England_, that seems to have very little Title to any thing so
elegantly poetical, which renders it the more remarkable.
_Read this and weep -- but not for me;
Lament thy longer Misery:
My Life was short, my Grief the less;
Blame not my Hast to Happiness!_
_The Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 20, 1734
_Parody and Reply to a Religious Meditation_
_By being too nice in the Choice of the little Pieces sent me
by my Correspondents to be printed, I had almost discouraged them
from writing to me any more. For the Time to come, and that my Paper
may become still more generally agreeable, I have resolved not to
regard my own Humour so much in what I print; and thereupon I give my
Readers the two following Letters_.
Mr. _Franklin_,
You gave us in your last a melancholy Account of Human Life, in
the Meditation upon that Subject.
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