1 of mental derangement, he fortunately met with a liberal-minded and rational divine, who, free from the errors of priestcraft, and possessed of a profound knowledge of the virtues of religion and the structure of the human mind, undertook the arduous, but humane and truly philosophic task of endeavouring to bring back his mind to a rational sense of its guilt, and to a firm hope of pardon through the intercession of our Saviour. Religion, that sweet and certain comforter of human woes, at length effected a partial recovery, and restored him to a degree of tranquillity and repose: but he still continued to suffer for years afterwards, so great a misery from the shattered condition of his nerves, that he could not even compose a letter upon the most trifling and indifferent subject without the greatest labour and pain. As his feelings had never been hurt by any sense of injury received from mankind, he entertained no antipathy to his species; but as he was conscious that his reduced state of health prevented him from keeping up any rational or pleasing intercourse with them, he felt a sort of abhorrence to society, and refused, even when advised by his physicians and intimate friends, to mingle in its pleasures, or engage in its concerns. The proposal, indeed, appeared as extravagant and absurd to his feelings, as if a man, almost choaking under the convulsion of a confirmed asthma, had been told that it was only necessary for him to breathe freely, in order to acquire perfect ease. This deplorable state of health induced him to consult several Italian and English physicians; and being advised to try the effects of a sea voyage, he set sail for Riga, where he safely arrived; but, after a residence of six months, found himself unaltered, and precisely in the same dreadful condition in which he had set sail. On his return, I was called in to his assistance. There were at this period but very few of those gloomy and noxious vapours of super. stition, which had so tormented his mind, remain. ing; but his body, and particularly his nervous system, was still racked with agonizing pains. I had the good fortune to afford him great relief; and when, at times, his sufferings were suspended, and his spirits enlivened by pleasing conversation, he was certainly one of the most entertaining men, both as to the vivacity of his wit, the shrewdness of his observations, the powers of his reasoning, and the solidity of his judgment, that I had ever known. These instances clearly evince how dangerous Solitude may prove to minds pre-disposed, by accident or nature, to indulge a misdirected ima gination, either upon the common subjects of life, or upon the more important and affecting topic of religion; but it must not be concluded from the observations I have already made, that a rational retirement from the vices, the vanities, and the vexations of the world, is equally unfriendly, under all circumstances, to a sickly mind. The cool and quiet repose which seclusion affords, is frequently the most advantageous remedy which can be adopted for the recovery of a disturbed imagination.. It would, indeed, be the height of absurdity to recommend to a person suffering under a derangement of the nervous system, the diversions and dissipations of public life, when it is known, by sad experience, as well as by daily observation, that the least hurry disorders their frame, and the gentlest intercourse palpitates their hearts, and shakes their brains, almost to distraction. The healthy and robust can have no idea how violent the slightest touch vibrates through the trembling nerves of the dejected valetudina rian. The gay and healthy, therefore, seldom sympathize with the sorrowful and the sick. This, indeed, is one reason why those who, having lost the firm and vigorous tone of mind which is so essentially necessary in the intercourses of the world, generally abandon Society, and seek in the softness of Solitude a solace for their cares and anxieties; for there they frequently find a kind asylum, where the soul rests free from disturb. ance, and in time appeases the violence of its emotions for "the foster-nurse of Nature is repose." Experience, alas! sad experience, has but too well qualified me to treat of this subject. In the fond expectation of being able to re-establish my nervous system, and to regain that health which I had broken down, and almost destroyed, by intense application, I repaired to the Circle of Westphalia, in order to taste the waters of Pyrmont, and to divert the melancholy of my mind by the company which resorts to that celebrated spring: but, alas! I was unable to enjoy the lively scene; and I walked through multitudes of the great, the elegant, and the gay, in painful stupor, scarcely recognizing the features of my friends, and fearful of being noticed by those who knew me. The charms of wit, and the splendours of youthful beauty, were to me as unalluring as age and ugli. ness, when joined to the deformities of vice, and the fatiguing prate of senseless folly. During this miserable impotence of soul, and while I vainly sought a temporary relief of my own calamity, I was hourly assailed by a crowd of wretched souls, who implored me to afford them my professional aid, to alleviate those pains which time, alas! had fixed in their constitutions, and which de pended more on the management and reformation of their own minds, than on the powers of medi. cine to cure. For I could not minister to a mind diseas'd, Cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff To avoid these painful importunities, I flew from the tasteless scenes with abrupt and angry vio lence; and confining myself to the Solitude of my apartments, passed the lingering day in dreary dejection, musing on the melancholy group from which I had just escaped. But my home did not long afford me an asylum. I was on the ensuing day assailed by an host of hypochondriasts, attended by their respective advisers, who, while my own nervous malady was raging at its full height, stunned me with the various details of their imaginary woes,and excruciated me the whole day with their unfounded ails and tormenting lamenta. tions. The friendly approach of night at length relieved me from their importunities; but my spirits had been so exhausted, my feelings so vexed, my patience so tired, and the sensibilities of my mind so aggravated, by the persecution I had endured, that- "Tir'd Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep," filed from my eyes; and I lay restless upon my couch, alive only to my miseries, in a state of anguish more insupportable than my bitterest enemies would, I hope, have inflicted on me. About noon, on the ensuing day, while I was endeavouring to procure on the sofa a short repose, the Princess Orlow, accompanied by two other very agreeable Russian ladies, whose company and conversation it was both my pride and my pleasure frequently to enjoy, suddenly entered my apartment, to inquire after my health, of the state of which they had received an account only a few hours before: but such was the petulance of temper into which my disordered mind betrayed me, that I immediately rose, and with uncivil vehemence, requested they would not disturb me. The fair intruders instantly left the room. About an hour afterwards, and while I was reflecting on the impropriety of my conduct, the prince himself honoured me with a visit. He placed himself on a chair close by the couch on which I lay, and, with that kind affection which belongs to his character, inquired, with the tenderest and most sympathizing concern, into the cause of my disorder. There was a charm in his kindness and attention, that softened, in some degree, the violence of my pains. He continued his visit for some time; and when he was about to leave me, after premising that I knew him too well to suspect that superstition had any influence in his mind, said, "Let me advise you, whenever you find yourself in so waspish and petulant & mood, as you must have been in when you turned the princess and her companions out of the room, to endeavour to check the violence of your temper; and I think you will find it an excellent expedient for this purpose, if, while any friend is kindly inquiring after your health, however averse you may be at the moment to such an inquiry, instead of driving him so uncivilly away, you would employ yourself in a silent mental repetition of The Lord's Prayer; it might prove very salutary, and would certainly be much more satisfactory to your mind." No advice could be better imagined than this was to divert the emotions of impatience, by creating in the mind new objects of attention, and turning the raging cur. rent of distempered thought into a more pure and peaceful channel. Experience, indeed, has enabled me to announce the efficacy and virtue of this expedient. I have frequently, by the prac tice of it, defeated the fury of the petulant passions, and completely subdued many of those acerbities which vex and teize us in the hours of grief, and during the sorrows of sickness. Others also, to whom I have recommended it, have experienced from it similar effects. The prince, 66 my guide, philosopher, and friend," a few weeks after he had given me this wise and salu |