Will be the change, and nobler. Would the forms
Of servile custom cramp her generous powers?
Would sordid policies, the barbarous growth
Of ignorance and rapine, bow her down
To tame pursuits, to indolence and fear?
Lo! she appeals to Nature, to the winds
And rolling waves, the sun's unwearied course,
The elements and seasons: all declare
For what the eternal Maker has ordain'd
The powers of Man. We feel within ourselves
His energy divine: He tells the heart

He meant, He made us to behold and love
What He beholds and loves, the general orb
Of Life and Being; to be great like Him,
Beneficent and active. Thus the men.

Whom Nature's Works can charm, with God himself
Hold converse; grow familiar, day by day,

With his conceptions, act upon his plan,
And form to his the relish of their souls,

CHAP. V.

The Effects of Solitude on a melancholy Mind.

A DISPOSITION to enjoy the silence of seques. tered Solitude, and a growing distaste of the noisy tumults of public life, are the earliest and most general symptoms of approaching melancholy. The heart, on which felicity was used to sit enthroned, becomes senseless to the touch of pleasure; the airy wing of high delight sinks prostrate to the earth on broken pinions: and care, anxi ety, chagrin, and regret, load the mind with dis tempering ideas, and render it cheerless and forlorn. The dawning sun and heaven-lighted day give no pleasure to the sickened senses of the unhappy sufferer. His only pleasure is to "commune with his own griefs;" and for this purpose he seeks some gloomy glen,

"Where bitter boding Melancholy reigns

O'er heavy sighs and care-disordered thoughts,"

But a mind thus disposed, however it may for a time console its sorrows, by retiring from the world, thereby becomes more weak and helpless. Solitude, in such cases, increases the disorder, while it softens its effects. To eradicate the seeds of this dreadful malady, the imagination should be impressed with some new, contrary, and more powerful bias than that which sways the mind, which can only be turned from its course of thought by shifting the objects of its reflection, and giving entrance to new desires. A melan. choly mind, therefore, should be weaned by de. grees from its disposition to Solitude, should be agreeably interrupted in its musings, and be induced to relish the varying pleasures of the world. But, above all, those scenes and subjects which have any connection, however remotely, with the cause of the complaint, must be cautiously avoided. The seeds of this dreadful malady are, in general, very deeply planted in the constitution of the patient, however accidental the circumstances may be which call it forth; and therefore the mind, even when relieved from its oppression, is, if left to itself, always in danger of relapsing into its former habit. This circumstance alone is sufficient to show how unfriendly Solitude must be to the cure of this complaint. If, indeed, the patient be so far gone as to leave no hope of recovery; if his desponding heart be incapable of any new impression; if his mind foregoes all cuts. tom of mirth; if he refuse to partake of any healthful exercise, or agreeable recreation and the soul sinks day after day into deeper dejection, and threatens Nature with madness, or with death, Solitude is the only resource. When Melancholy seizes, to a certain degree, the mind of an Englishman, it almost uniformly leads him to put a period to his existence; while the worst ef fect it produces on a Frenchman, is to induce him to turn Carthusian. Such dissimilar effects,

proceeding from the operation of the same cause, in different persons, can only be accounted for from the greater opportunities which there is in France than in England to hide the sorrows of the mind from the inspection of the world. An English hypochondriast would, perhaps, seldom de stroy himself, if there were in England any monastic institution, to which he could fly from the eye of public observation.

The mind, in proportion as it loses its proper tone, and natural elasticity, decreases in its attachments to society, and wishes to recede from the world and its concerns. There is no disorder of the mind, among all the various causes by which it may be affected, that destroys its force and activity so entirely as melancholy. It unties, as it were, all the relations, both physical and moral, of which society, in its most perfect state, consists, and sets the soul free from all sense of obligation. The private link which unites the species is destroyed; all inclination to the common intercourse of life is lost; and the only remaining disposition is for Solitude. It is for this reason that melancholy persons are continually advised to frequent the theatres, masquerades, operas, balls, and other places of public diversion; to amuse themselves at home with cards, dice, or other games; or to infuse from the eyes of female beauty new life into their drooping souls. Certain it is, that great advantages may be derived by detaching the mind from those objects by which it is tortured and consumed; but to run indiscriminately, and with injudicious eagerness, into the pursuit of pleasures, without any pre-disposition to enjoy them, may rather tend to augment than diminish the disease.

The eye of Melancholy views every object on its darkest and most unfavourable side, and apprehends disastrous consequences from every occurrence. These gloomy perceptions, which in

crease as the feelings become more indolent, and the constitution more morbid, bring on habitual uneasiness and chagrin upon the mind, and render every injury, however small and trifling it may be, irksome and insupportable. A settled dejection ensues; and the miserable patient avoids every scene in which his musings may be liable to interruption; the few enjoyments he is yet.capable of feeling in any degree impeded; or which may call upon him to make the slightest exertion; and, by withdrawing himself from Society into Solitude, neglects the exercises and recreations by which his disease might be relieved. Instead of endeavouring to enlighten the dark gloom which involves his mind, and subdues his soul, by regarding with a favourable eye all that gives a true value and high relish to men of sound minds and lively dispositions, he fondly follows the phantom which misleads him, and thereby sinks himself more deeply into the moody fanes of irremediable melancholy: and if the bright rays of life and happiness penetrate by chance into the obscurity of his retreat, instead of feel. ing any satisfaction from the perception of cheerfulness and content, he quarrels with the possessors of them, and converts their enjoyments into subjects of grievance, in order to torment himself.

Unfavourable, however, as a dreary and disconsolate Solitude certainly is to the recovery of a mind labouring under this grievous affliction, it is far preferable to the society of licentious companions, and to wild scenes of inebriating dissipation. Worldly pleasures, and sensual gratifications of every description, when intemperately, pursued, only drive a melancholy mind into a more abject state of dejection. It is from rational recreation, and temperate pleasures alone, that an affiicted mind can receive amusement and delight. The only scenes by which the mudded

current of his mind can be cleared, or his stag. nated system of pleasure refreshed, must be calm, cheerful, and temperate, not gay. Melancholy is of a sedate and pensive character, and flies from whatever is hurrying and tumultuous. How fre. quently do men of contemplative dispositions conceive a distaste for the world, only because they have unthinkingly engaged so ardently in the pursuits of pleasure, or of business, that they have been prevented, for a length of time, from collecting their scattered ideas, and indulging their natural habits of reflection! But in endeavouring to reclaim a melancholy mind, it is necessary to attend to the feelings of the heart, as well as to the peculiar temper of the mind. A gloomy, disturbed, unquiet mind, is highly irri tated, and its disease of course increased, by the company and conversation of those whose sense. less bosoms are incapable of feeling the griefs it endures, or the complaints it utters. This indeed, is another cause which drives melancholy persons from Society into Solitude; for how few are there whose tenderness leads them to sympa. thize with a brother in distress, or to contribute a kind aid to eradicate the thorns which rankle in his heart! Robust characters, in whose bosoms Nature has planted the impenetrable shield of unvarying health, as well as those whose minds are engrossed by the charms of uninterrupted prosperity, can form no idea of the secret but severe agonies which shake the system of valetudinary men; nor feel any compassion for the tortures which accompany a wounded and afflict. ed spirit, until the convulsive frame proclaims the dreadful malady, or increasing melancholy sacrifices its victim on the altar of self-destruction. The gay associates of the unfeeling world view a companion suffering under the worst of Nature's evils, with cold indifference, or affected concern; or, in the career of pleasure, overlook