Melancholy

He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
— Isaiah 53:3

In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord: my sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul refused to be comforted.
— Psalm 77:2

Their soul abhorreth all manner of meat; and they draw near unto the gates of death.
— Psalm 107:18

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.
— Psalm 77:5-6

And I said, This is my infirmity: but I will remember the years of the right hand of the most High. I will remember the works of the LORD: surely I will remember thy wonders of old. I will meditate also of all thy work, and talk of thy doings. Thy way, O God, is in the sanctuary: who is so great a God as our God? Thou art the God that doest wonders: thou hast declared thy strength among the people.
— Psalm 77:10-14

The Symptoms of Religious or Christian Melancholy, by Benjamin Fawcett. The following contains an excerpt from his work, “Observations on the Nature, Causes and Cure of Melancholy: Especially of That Which is Commonly Called Religious Melancholy”. Published in 1780.

What has been already said concerning its symptoms, as a mere bodily disease, should be considered as the foundation of what is now to be said of it when it takes a religious turn. The latter would have no existence without the former, which is a circumstance that such persons need to be often reminded of. And when the symptoms of the former are duly attended to, those of the latter will much less excite our wonder and surprise, but will rather be considered as what we may naturally expect, though greatly to be pitied. Here also, the principal sign by which we may judge when the indisposition is chiefly or wholly in the body is this—that the person accuses himself highly in general, without being able to give any instance in particular—that he is very apprehensive of he does not well know what, fearful, yet it can give no reason why. To which must now be added that he thinks very ill of himself, and yet has been guilty of no great faults, and fears that God also will condemn him, and yet is not sensible by what presumptuous transgression he has merited such displeasure.

On the other hand, when he is able to account for his sense of guilt, either by his past general sinfulness, or by some particular heinous transgression. Yet, though he has been truly humbled and penitent on that account, he remains as unseasonably deaf to the mercies of God, the merits of Christ, the promises of the Gospel, and the relief which multitudes of sinners have derived from thence, as if all these boundless sources of consolation were mere fables. It must be carefully observed that this, which is the principal symptom, may be traced in some degree through the different stages or appearances of the disease—namely, of dejection, distress, and despair.

Under dejection are great depression of spirits, though the disease may put on its milder form, yet the mind groans under the pressure, which is really the more burdensome because it is usually of long continuance. A person in this case is apt to be very scrupulous, afraid of whatever he eats, drinks, or wears by traveling or by staying at home. He is perhaps as prone to superstition, to make laws for himself which God never made, or to ensnare himself with needless vows and resolutions and hurtful austerities—falsely imagining the true religion consists much in imposing tasks upon himself, either in spending so many hours in devotion, or in wearing a particular dress, or using a particular diet. His fancy is so exceedingly erroneous and aggravating in sinfulness, that every common infirmity is with him and heinous crime. He is especially quick in applying to himself the threatenings of the Word of God, but is as much disposed to overlook the promises as if they were not delivered by the same authority, or were not designed to be of the same extent. If his disease grows up to distress a mind, he then places religion principally in sorrow, and perhaps in painfully denying the body its necessary refreshments. Whatever he does, reads, or hears, he is still turning it into fresh manner for self-accusation and self-condemnation. He loses his fitness for meditation and prayer, chiefly by his tears concerning his eternal state. As he dare not hope, therefore he dare not pray. And he is in such dread of going to the Lord’s Supper, that if he partakes of it, he is apt to conclude that he has eaten and drunk his own damnation. At length, the same person may, perhaps, be seen in the horrors of despair, concluding that his day of grace has passed, and that it is too late for him to repent and find mercy—rationally pronouncing himself to be rejected of God, and therefore pass all hope and help from any of the means of grace. So he grows utterly averse to the public or private exercises of religion, thinks himself a determined hater of God and of godliness, and charges that to himself as his sin and guilt, which is a mere effect of his bodily disease. His mind in this dreadful situation seems to himself to be filled with blasphemous thoughts, or to have committed a sin against the Holy Ghost.

It is the most awful dispensation of divine providence when such symptoms of dejection and distress, and even of despair have attended persons whose piety and usefulness have made them the greatest blessing in their day. Here are pains and sorrows—they seem almost peculiar to the damned in Hell. Here are thoughts of God Himself which fill the soul with inconceivable horror. Here are all the objects of faith which tend to elevate dignifying delight to mind, or so many sources of perplexity and vexation.

Heman could experimentally say, My soul is full of troubles—Psalm 88:3. Thou has laid me in the lowest pit in darkness and the deep. Thy wrath lies hard upon me, and thou hast afflicted me with all thy waves. Thy fierce wrath goes over me, thy tears have cut me off. But without such awful experience, we may argue with Solomon. The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear? The mind in this case is filled with such terrible apprehensions, that it is impossible for all created enjoyments to lighten his burden and banish his sense of woe. He sees others enjoy the comforts of life, the delights of friendship, the blessings of religion, but he himself can take comfort in nothing, visible or invisible, either in the creature or the Creator in time of eternity. He is every moment waste in his spirits and ruminating on his own helpless and hopeless miseries. Most acute pains of the body are light and inconsiderable compared with the tortures of his mind. His intellectual powers feel such agony as even puts his whole animal nature on the rack. While every pore of the body perhaps, is often profusely sweating merely with the pressure of the mind. And if where there is no real ground for trouble of spirit, yet the mere phantom of a diluted imagination can be so terrible as men sometimes find it. What then is the reality of God’s insupportable wrath lying upon the mind of an impenitent and despairing sinner? Therefore, take heed of real and habitual wickedness.

https://takeupcross.com
takeupcross