To
another
Friend
under
Affliction
.
Since
the
first
Man
by
Disobedience
fell
An
easy
Conquest
to
the
Pow'rs
of
Hell
,
There's
none
,
in
every
Stage
of
Life
can
be
From
the
Insults
of
bold
Affliction
free
.
If
a
short
respite
gives
us
some
Relief
,
And
interrupts
the
Series
of
our
Grief
,
So
quick
the
Pangs
of
Misery
return
,
We
Joy
by
Minutes
,
but
by
Years
we
Mourn
.
Reason
refin'd
and
to
perfection
brought
,
By
wise
Philosophy
,
and
serious
Thought
,
Supports
the
Soul
beneath
the
pond'rous
Weight
Of
angry
Stars
,
and
unpropitious
Fate
,
Then
is
the
time
she
should
exert
her
Pow'r
,
And
make
us
practice
what
she
taught
before
.
For
why
are
such
Volum'nous
Authors
read
,
The
learned
Labours
of
the
famous
Dead
.
But
to
prepare
the
Mind
for
its
defence
,
By
sage
Results
,
and
well-digested
,
Sense
;
That
when
the
Storm
of
Misery
appears
With
all
its
real
,
or
fantastick
Fears
,
We
either
may
the
rolling
danger
fly
,
Or
stem
the
Tide
before
it
swells
too
high
.
But
tho'
the
Theory
of
Wisdom's
known
With
ease
,
what
should
,
and
what
should
not
be
done
:
Yet
all
the
labour
in
the
Practice
lies
,
To
be
in
more
than
Words
,
and
Notion
wise
,
The
sacred
Truths
of
sound
Philosophy
We
study
early
,
but
we
late
apply
.
When
stubborn
Anguish
seizes
on
the
Soul
,
Right-Reason
would
its
haughty
Rage
controul
;
But
if
it
mayn't
be
suffer'd
,
to
endure
The
Pain
is
just
,
when
we
reject
the
Cure
.
For
many
Men
,
close
observation
finds
,
Of
copious
Learning
,
and
exalted
Minds
;
Who
tremble
at
the
sight
of
daring
Woes
,
And
stoop
ignobly
to
the
vilest
Foes
;
As
if
they
understood
not
how
to
be
Or
wise
,
or
brave
,
but
in
Felicity
;
And
by
some
Action
,
servile
,
or
unjust
,
Lay
all
their
former
Glories
in
the
Dust
.
For
Wisdom
first
the
wretched
Mortal
flies
,
And
leaves
him
naked
to
his
Enemies
.
So
that
when
most
his
Prudence
should
be
shown
,
The
most
imprudent
giddy
things
are
done
:
For
when
the
Mind's
surrounded
with
Distress
,
Fear
,
or
Inconstancy
,
the
Judgment
press
,
And
render
it
incapable
to
make
Wise
Resolutions
,
or
good
Counsels
take
.
Yet
there's
a
steadiness
of
Soul
,
and
Thought
,
By
Reason
bred
,
and
by
Religion
taught
,
Which
,
like
a
Rock
amidst
the
stormy
Waves
,
Unmov'd
remains
,
and
all
Affliction
braves
.
In
sharp
Misfortunes
some
will
search
too
deep
,
What
Heaven
prohibits
,
and
would
secret
keep
:
But
those
Events
'tis
better
not
to
know
,
Which
known
,
serve
only
to
increase
our
Woe
.
Knowledge
forbid
,
(
'tis
dang'rous
to
pursue
,
)
With
Guilt
begins
,
and
ends
with
Ruin
too
.
For
had
our
earliest
Parents
been
content
Not
to
know
more
,
than
to
be
innocent
:
Their
Ignorance
of
Evil
had
preserv'd
Their
Joys
entire
;
for
then
they
had
not
swerv'd
.
But
they
imagin'd
,
(
their
Desires
were
such
,
)
They
knew
too
little
,
till
they
knew
too
much
.
E'er
since
by
Folly
most
to
Wisdom
rise
,
And
few
are
,
but
by
sad
Experience
,
Wise
.
Consider
,
Friend
!
who
all
your
Blessings
gave
,
What
are
recall'd
again
,
and
what
you
have
;
And
do
not
murmur
,
when
you
are
bereft
Of
little
,
if
you
have
abundance
left
.
Consider
too
,
how
many
Thousands
are
Under
the
worst
of
Miseries
,
Despair
:
And
don't
repine
at
what
you
now
endure
,
Custom
will
give
you
Ease
,
or
Time
will
cure
.
Once
more
consider
,
that
the
present
Ill
,
Tho'
it
be
great
,
may
yet
be
greater
still
;
And
be
not
anxious
;
for
to
undergo
One
Grief
,
is
nothing
to
a
numerous
Woe
.
But
since
it
is
impossible
to
be
Human
,
and
not
expos'd
to
Misery
,
Bear
it
,
my
Friend
,
as
bravely
as
you
can
;
You
are
not
more
,
and
be
not
less
than
Man
!
Afflictions
past
,
can
no
Existence
find
,
But
in
the
wild
Ideas
of
the
Mind
:
And
why
should
we
for
those
Misfortunes
mourn
,
Which
have
been
suffer'd
,
and
can
ne'er
return
?
Those
that
have
weather'd
a
tempestuous
Night
,
And
find
a
Calm
approaching
with
the
Light
,
Will
not
,
unless
their
Reason
they
disown
,
Still
make
those
Dangers
present
,
that
are
gone
.
What
is
behind
the
Curtain
,
none
can
see
;
It
may
be
Joy
,
suppose
it
Misery
.
'Tis
future
still
,
and
that
,
which
is
not
here
,
May
never
come
,
or
we
may
never
bare
.
Therefore
the
present
Ill
,
alone
we
ought
To
view
,
in
reason
,
with
a
troubled
Thought
:
But
,
if
we
may
the
sacred
Pages
trust
,
He's
always
Happy
,
that
is
always
Just
.