alarmed their fears, and keen disappointments have broken their spirits, and filled them with forebodings of eternal punishment, is not the case we have to consider. Nor are the distresses and solicitudes of an awakened penitent, when, first convinced of sin, he anxiously inquires after the way of salvation in Christ Jesus, the indications of it. These are rather favorable signs. They do not imply the existence of a disease, but they are salubrious and medicinal. Nor is the seriousness of mind which ever becomes a Christian in this world of temptation, where he is called to "work out his salvation with fear and trembling, and to pass the time of his sojourning in fear," the index of religious melancholy. Neither are the occasional fluctuations in the religious feeling to which all the sincere servants of God are more or less subject, the evidences of its existence.

The proper symptoms of it are to be found in a settled depression of mind, in a perplexing debility and agitation of spirit, an apprehension of God's indignation, a prevailing doubt of our pardon and acceptance before him, a dark view of the events. which occur in the course of God's providential dealings with us, a succession of gloomy forebodings as to our future circumstances and destination, and a sinking of the heart, especially when we turn to subjects connected with our personal interest in the blessings of redemption. The appearances will vary in different cases, but they will partake in all of the general character that has been described.

Thus Jacob, when the loss of his beloved Joseph had long distressed his mind, when he received the intelligence of the severe treatment which his other sons had met with in Egypt, and found that Benjamin must also be separated from him, exclaimed with a touching melancholy, "Me have ye bereaved of my children. Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin away: all these things are against me." This is not, indeed, a settled depression; but it serves to convey an idea of it. Such feelings, if they had continued long, and had fixed themselves in the soul, would have "brought down" the Patriarch's "gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.”

Hannah, again, vexed by the reproaches of Peninnah, cast down at the disappointment of her hopes, and receiving to answer to her prayers, was under a dejection of spirit. She went up to the temple, a "woman of a sorrowful spirit," and "out of

the abundance of her complaint and grief poured out her soul before the Lord." She was in "bitterness of soul." Her "adversary provoked her sore." She wept, and did cat no bread." This continued year by year. These were symptoms of the discase we are to treat.

The same under different circumstances, was the case of Naomi, She was left of her two sons and her husband" in a foreign land. When she arose to return from the country of Moab, one of her daughters-in-law "went back unto her people and to her gods." She arrived at Bethlehem, "and all the city was moved, and said, Is this Naomi? And she said, Call me not Naomi, (pleasant) but call me Mara, (bitter) for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. I went out full, and the Lord hath brought me home again empty; why then call ye me Naomi, seeing the Lord hath testified against me, and the Almighty hath afflicted me?"

The instance of Elijah may also be mentioned, when he received the threatening message from Jezebel, "and arose and went for his life, and came to Beersheba, and went a day's journey into the wilderness, and sat down under a juniper-tree, and requested for himself that he might die." Dejection preyed upon his mind, and he concluded that he only was left in Israel, a prophet of the Lord.

The dejection of Job assumed yet more distinctly and fully the appearance of religious depression. Hear his distressing language; "Even to-day is my complaint bitter; my stroke is heavier than my groaning. The arrows of the Almighty are within me, the poison whereof drinketh up my spirit; the terrors of God do set themselves in array against me. My sighing cometh before I eat, and my roarings are poured out like water. My soul is weary of life. Thou writest bitter things against me, Thou holdest me for thine enemy."

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The case of the church, however, in the Prophet, and of the royal Psalmist, will furnish us with a most complete view of the symptoms of this malady. Why sayest, O Jacob, and spakest, O Israel, My way is hid from the Lord? My judgment is passed over from my God? But Zion said, The Lord hath forsaken me, and my Lord hath forgotten mc." This is the language of an habitual gloom of mind. It resembles that of the Psalm in which the text occurs. "In the day of my trouble," exclaims the sacred author, "I sought the Lord; my sore ran in the night VOL. II.-75

and ceased not❞—he prayed earnestly, and found no consolation. "My soul refused to be comforted"-a fixed melancholy seized him. "I remembered God and was troubled"—even meditation on God, which is the usual source of relief, aggravates his malady. "I complained and my spirit was overwhelmed"-billows of distress rose all around, and deluged, as it were, his soul. "Thou holdest mine eyes waking, I am so troubled I cannot speak”— neither sleep, nor prayer, nor praise could yield him any succor. "I have considered the days of old, the years of ancient times, I call to remembrance my song in the night: I commune with mine own heart, and my spirit made diligent search.”—He inquires after evidences of God's former favor, but to no purpose. "Will the Lord cast off forever? Will he be favorable no more?

Doth his promise fail for ever

Is his mercy clean gone forever? more? Hath God forgotten to be gracious? Hath He in anger shut up his tender mercies?" With mixed emotions of fear, agitation, and anxious solicitude, he asks in melancholy strains, if he is rejected of God; if the Divine mercy is exhausted; if his faithfulness and grace have failed; if his anger hath shut up the bowels of compassion. "And I said, This is my infirmity." This is my discase, my distress. I cannot explain the questions which I have put. I cannot tell what to do. I am filled with the greatest consternation, and excruciated with unceasing anguish of mind. Though the relation of God to his people, and his attributes of grace and mercy, might seem in every other case to afford hope of deliverance, yet so singular and oppressive are my calamities, that the contemplation of them serves only to enhance my misery, and to aggravate my forebodings of final rejection at the

hands of God.

Such are some of the symptoms of a religious depression of mind. We proceed to consider,

It is undoubtedly sometimes natural and occasioned by bodily distemper. Religious feelings may ebb and flow with the animal spirits. Infirm, debilitated constitutions greatly affect the operations of the mind. Persons in such circumstances, are ready to view things on the most gloomy side, and the least circumstance may occasion dejection. They are too apt to fix on the more awful and profound parts of truth, and to perplex themselves with embarrassing questions, which tend to increase the malady. Con

finement also without exercise, or change of scene, will often tend to produce depression. An excess of business likewise, and engagements wearing and exhausting the strength, or an occupation unfriendly to the health, may have the same consequences. I mention this class of causes first, because, if the spring of dejection be corporeal malady, the case is at once, in a great measure, accounted for; and as miraculous interpositions are no longer to be expected, the aid of the physician must be sought.

Superstition is at times an occasion of religious dejection in those pious persons, who are in situations unfavorable for acquiring religious knowledge. An over-scrupulous conscience administers food to such a disposition. There is nothing so trifling which a superstitious and scrupulous mind may not magnify into an affair of vital importance. The conscience has not a healthy sensibility, but is irritable. They can say or do nothing without exciting an unnatural alarm, an alarm for which no reasonable account can be given. Reliance on dreams, sudden impressions, illusive voices, imaginary warnings of the death of distant friends, casting lots, the opening of the Bible and fixing on the first verse. which presents itself, is altogether vain, superstitious, and unlawful; and the exercise of any such unfounded reliance cannot fail to produce dangerous fancies and extraordinary gloom of mind. Vows rashly made, and apprehensions of having committed the sin against the Holy Ghost, have the same tendency. It is sur prising that, in the present age and in a Protestant country, cases of this kind should so frequently occur; and that so many persons should be apprehensive, or ignorant, of the folly and sinfulness. of what is so explicitly rebuked and condemned in the Holy Scriptures.

A more common cause of this dejection is a misapprehension of the doctrine of the remission of sins. The former cases are easily understood. This may be less obvious and accessible. The distress of the awakened and contrite heart is relieved by a persuasion of the grace of Christ in freely forgiving sin. When the penitent is led simply to credit this cheering truth and to act upon it, his extreme alarm subsides; for peace of conscience is the natural fruit of faith in the blood of the Redeemer. Being "justified by faith, he has peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ;" and he begins to walk in the ways of holy obedience. with consistency, and with increasing spirituality and delight.

But if he crrs as to this scriptural course, if he mistakes the entire plan of the Gospel as a plan of salvation by grace, and continues to trust to himself, and to endeavor to "establish his own righteousness," instead of "submitting himself to the righteousness of Christ," his distress of mind is likely to increase, and, if other things concur, to plunge him at last into a settled melancholy. Though he is truly penitent, yet he dares not believe that he is. Though he is invited freely to the cross of the Saviour, yet he ignorantly excludes himself from its benefits. Though all, of every character, who feel and acknowledge their sins, are urged to believe the Gospel, yet he conceives he is too great a sinner to venture to apply. Though he is instructed in the covenant of works and that of grace, yet he still clings confusedly to the law which can only condemn him. In the mean time, he labors and strives, and watches, and prays, but with little apparent success. Nay, he appears to himself to become worse. He mistakes the important doctrine of the necessity of evidences of his being in a state of salvation, for the necessity of his attaining certain previous qualifications, to entitle him to come to Christ-an crior of great magnitude. Thus he gradually sinks into despondency. Like the stricken deer, he wanders here and there for relief, but in vain, unconscious that he carries about with him the instrument of his malady. His mistake is, that he thinks he must make himself better before he comes to Christ, instead of approaching Him with the humility of a helpless sinner, that he may obtain the pardon of h's sins, and be sanctified by his Saviour's grace. Instead of this, he hopes to merit pardon and acceptance by his works. Hence he is filled with terror. His attempts fail, his performances are defective, and condemn him. Every discovery of the evil of his own heart, and of the purity of God, increases his perturbation and alarm. He comes at last to a settled dejection of mind, approaching to despair.

But a still more frequent cause of this malady is some wilful sin, secretly cherished in the heart, or practiced in the life. Like "the accursed thing" in the camp of Israel, this must be cast out, before a scriptural peace can be enjoyed. I speak not of sins of ignorance or infirmity, nor of the effects of sudden temptation, nor of the disallowed imperfections which, through the defilement of indwelling sin, cleave to our purest thoughts, and most rightcous actions: these ought not to occasion religious depression.