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coraeth in the morning. Thou hast 

 turned my mourning into dancing. Thou 

 hast put off my sackcloth, and girded 

 me with gladness." 



If further confirmation is needed, see 

 the book of Job, the 3d chapter especi- 

 ally, when, in the profoundest depths of 

 depression, he even cursed the day in 

 which he was born. "Wherefore is 

 light given to him that is in misery, and 

 life unto the bitter in soul, which long 

 for death, but it cometh not ; which are 

 glad when they can find the grave ? 

 Why is light given to a man whose way 

 is hid, and whom God hath hedged in ?" 



I quote so largely from the blessed 

 book, because I hope that some of my 

 readers, almost overpowered by gloomy 

 forebodings, may find help, and much 

 more, from my own personal experiences, 

 and from their confirmation by God's 

 word. Of the Psalms in particular, it is 

 evident that all of them which express 

 our strongest emotions could have been 

 born only out of deep, personal experi- 

 ence ; some, 



"When gladness wings our favorite hours;" 



others, when we are almost disposed to 

 repeat that anguished cry of our Savior, 

 " My God ! my God ! why hast thou for- 

 saken me?" Only thus originating 

 could they have lived in the memory of 

 man for so many ages. As in water 

 face answereth unto face, so the heart 

 of man, and I earnestly hope that some 

 afflicted brother or sister who has been 

 crying out, "All thy waves and all thy 

 billows have gone over me," may be 

 helped by this recital of my sufferings, 

 and much more helped by realizing that 

 the great Father of our spirits, who 

 pitieth his children, who knoweth their 

 frame, and who remembereth that they 

 are dust, has caused special Psalms to 

 be written, even for them. 



To resume the description of my own 

 experience : 



I entered Yale College in my 17th 

 year ; and can remember that, even be- 

 fore that time, I had times when I lost 

 my usual interest in my studies. Twice, 

 in college, they were entirely suspended; 

 but neither my parents nor myself, at 

 that time, had any idea of what was the 

 matter with me. 



While tutor of mathematics at Yale, 

 from 1834 to 1836, I was similarly 

 affected ; so, also, when pastor of the 

 old South Congregational Church in 

 Andover, Mass. 



I was at last compelled to resign my 

 pastorate, and became principal, succes- 

 sively of the Abbott Female Seminary, 



and the High School for young ladies, at 

 Greenfield, Mass., and afterward ac- 

 cepted the charge of the Second Green- 

 field Congregational Church. During 

 the latter part of this charge I made 

 many of my sermons on foot, walking 

 long distances, and trying severe exer- 

 cise to get the better of the incipient 

 attacks. Never, however, was I able to 

 effect this. 



An attack might be of longer or 

 shorter duration before it prostrated me; 

 but it always had but one issue. Strug- 

 gle as I would, fight as I could against 

 it, my condition was that of the man 

 lost in the quicksands, so vividly de- 

 scribed by Victor Hugo. Walking care- 

 lessly over its treacherous surface, he 

 first notices that his freedom of move- 

 ment is somewhat impaired ; but he 

 thinks little of this until he finds it more 

 and more difficult to lift his feet. 

 Alarmed at last, he vainly tries to es- 

 cape to the firmer land, only to find that 

 each step that he takes sinks him deeper 

 and deeper, until the engulfing sands 

 reach his lips, and his shrieks of agony 

 are stilled. His head disappears ; only 

 the faint motion of a sinking hand is 

 visible, and soon every trace of him dis- 

 pears forever. 



The first light thrown upon my case 

 was by a German physician, who told 

 me that my brain troubles were caused 

 by blind piles ; but he failed to cure me. 



I shall never forget the remark of an 

 electric physician, who, in 1853, while 

 passing his hand over my neck, ex- 

 claimed, " How can a man with the 

 flesh over his spine, in such a rigid con- 

 dition, be otherwise than miserable !" 

 This was the first time that my attention 

 was called to the abnormal congestion 

 of the flesh over the whole length of my 

 spinal column. "You will be happy," 

 said he, " as soon as I relieve you of this 

 congestive condition." He worked upon 

 my spinal column at intervals for sev- 

 eral hours a day, rubbing and kneading 

 it, much as they do in the massage 

 treatment, all the while passing a cur- 

 rent of electricity through his own body 

 into mine, until at last he effected what 

 seemed to be a perfect cure. He died 

 before I could avail myself of another 

 treatment. 



So intimate is the connection between 

 this rigidity and my mental depression, 

 that they are never dissociated ; but in 

 vain have 1 called the attention of able 

 physicians to this feature of my case. 

 When it began to develop they never 

 succeeded in arresting it. 



While a considerable time, often sev- 

 eral months, elapsed from the time I 



