other are, in themselves, obstructions to them. Melancholy, indeed, effects slavish fears, legal terrors, and endless scruples; but these constitute no part of pure religion: for, in proportion as religion is increased, in the heart and iife of the believer, these are diminished. To say, then, either that, genuine religion makes persons melancholy, or that, melancholy renders people truly religious; is to utter an ignorant, and an impudent slander, against our holy religion. No man who has the smallest experience of Godliness, can deliberately. reproach it in that manner. Some of the saints, it is granted, are sometimes melancholy; but this is not, because they are religious; but either, because they find, that they have too little of religion, or, because they fear, that they have none at all. Melancholy, therefore, instead of being styled, religious, should rather, I humbly apprehend, be termed, superstitious melancholy for while, this distemper makes no man truly religious, it has a direct tendency to render all who are afflicted with it, whether they be converted, or unconverted, superstitious m. Hence, the devout reader may also learn that, so much doth the direful disease of melancholy, weaken the mind of a holy man, while he is under it; that he not only cannot, but will not, be sensible of joy, or of any other grace in himself. So far as that doleful malady prevails, it renders him sullen, and averse from seeing, or feeling, or attending to, any thing which might afford him comfort. It makes him willing to despond, and unwilling to See HENRY on the Pleasantness of a religious life, p. 50. hope, or to rejoice. The consequence commonly is, that he makes it his main study, to raise doubts in himself, to frame objections against himself, and so to help forward his own affliction. Whatever grounds of consolation, he reads or hears of, he disregards; and he spends his time in starting objections against himself, which he is as unwilling, as he is unable, to answer. He has the principle and habit of faith, of love, of joy, and of every other grace, in his soul; but he perceives them not, because he will not perceive them. His views are dark and gloomy. His feelings and exercises, are much tinctured by the disease of his natural spirits; and his imagination and mind, are more susceptive, at that, than at any other time, of impressions from the powers of darkness. No sooner does his imagination become distempered, by an alteration in the motion of his nervous spirits, than this mysterious distemper, in addition to the corruption that remains in the imagination, affords Satan an avenue, for assaulting him with the most terrifying of his temptations. Immediately, that infernal enemy pours in, like a torrent, blackness of darkness, frightful illusions, and distracting terrors; so that, the dejected Christian becomes a terror to himself. Oh! what anguish, what horror, fill his soul, when Satanis permitted, by means of that malady, thus to tyrannize over him! How dreadful is this distemper, which leaves the imagination so exposed to that merciless enemy, and which enfeebles the mind, and impairs the judgment, to such a degree; that the Christian, whilst he is feeling the deepest anguish of spirit, is at the same time, unwilling other are, in themselves, obstructions to them. Melancholy, indeed, effects slavish fears, legal terrors, and endless scruples; but these constitute no part of pure religion: for, in proportion as religion is increased, in the heart and life of the believer, these are diminished. To say then, either that, genuine religion makes persons melancholy, or that, melancholy renders people truly religious; is to utter an ignorant, and an impudent slander, against our holy religion. No man who has the smallest experience of Godliness, can deliberately. reproach it in that manner. Some of the saints, it is granted, are sometimes melancholy; but this is not, because they are religious; but either, because they find, that they have too little of religion, or, because they fear, that they have none at all. Melancholy, therefore, instead of being styled, religious, should rather, I humbly apprehend, be termed, superstitious melancholy for while, this distemper makes no man truly religious, it has a direct tendency to render all who are afflicted with it, whether they be converted, or unconverted, superstitious m m. Hence, the devout reader may also learn that, so much doth the direful disease of melancholy, weaken the mind of a holy man, while he is under it; that he not only cannot, but will not, be sensible of joy, or of any other grace in himself. So far as that doleful malady prevails, it renders him sullen, and averse from seeing, or feeling, or attending to, any thing which might afford him comfort. It makes him willing to despond, and unwilling to m See HENRY on the Pleasantness of a religious life, p. 50. ancholy is, it is infinitely more desirable, even to be a melancholy saint, than a mad sinner. Solomon, who could not be mistaken, informs us, when speaking of unregenerate sinners, that, "madness is in their heart while they live ." Now supposing, (which very seldom happens,) that a holy man should be afflicted with melancholy, all his days; still, it is infinitely less dreadful, to have that direful malady affecting the mind, during the short period of human life, and then, followed by endless and ineffable delight; than to have that madness in the heart whilst one lives, which afterwards, will increase into hideous and endless rage. Impenitent sinners, like Saul of Tarsus, are mad against the saints P;" and "they are mad upon their idols 4." The prodigal, under conviction of his sin and misery, is said to have "come to himself';" which intimates, that hitherto he had been beside himself. Unregenerate men, with respect to the concerns of their souls, are madmen; and all their joys, are but like the pleasant dreams of a man, who has been deprived of his understanding: whereas, those regenerate men, who are under the deepest melancholy, have still the principle and the ha bit of pure, solid, and everlasting joy. a Eccles. ix. 3. 9 Jer. 1. 38. CHAPTER VI. of the designs of goD, IN FERMITTING SOME OF HIS CHILDREN, TO LOSE THEIR SPIRITUAL COMFORT. THE HE throne of the incomprehensible, and only wise God," is established in righteousness; but it is, at the same time, surrounded" with clouds and thick darkness." "He maketh darkness his pavilion round about him." "His judgments are a great deep :" they are too deep for us to fathom. His counsels are unsearchable, and his ways of providence are past finding out. When, therefore, we would try to penetrate into the mysterious designs, which the infinitely wise God hath, in permitting any of his redeemed, so to lose their spiritual consolation, as to fall under spiritual trouble, and even sometimes under melancholy; it becometh us to do it, with the most profound reverence, and only so far, as the holy Scriptures are our guide. Now from these, we discover that the Lord suffereth believers, to deprive themselves of their sensible comfort, and to continue for a season, under trouble of mind; not in order that they may thereby, give the smallest degree of satisfaction to his justice, for their sins. Their Divine Surety hath endured for them, the whole punishment due for all their iniquities; and so, hath fully satisfied the offended justice of Jehovahs. We also find that, he doth not permit this, from any pleasure that he taketh in their perplexity of soul, consider |