The Patowmac Guardian, And Berkeley Advertiser

It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to the house of feasting. In many instances and under certain limitations, this observation is true, but when carried into extremes it is not so.—Man was formed for happiness; and the heart is never in perfect health, unless it is cheerful and sprightly.

Sorrows and misfortunes are only medicines to correct the disorders of the mind—and when these purposes are effected, it appears in its usual vigour and serenity.

For this reason, sorrow should not be indulged any further than is necessary to make the heart better, by awakening it into serious attention, by softening it for the impressions of virtue and by guarding it against too fond an attachment to the vanities of the world. Undoubtedly the feelings excited by going to the "house of mourning" are calculated to make us better—but this grief, being a medicine, must be used with caution or it will become either wholly unavailing or dangerous. There are times when the heart is so "pierced with many sorrows" and so bowed down with affliction that it is unable to bear these awful solemnities—the attention must be diverted to less gloomy scenes—such as the heart can support without sinking beneath the pressure. On these accounts it is not only prudent to conquer affliction as soon as possible, lest it should conquer us, but it is our duty to be calm, and not suffer the sorrows of life to prevent our attending to the concerns of it, or hasten its close.