What is a "dark night of the soul"?

When travelling in Italy on one occasion, being then an old man, he reached a very uncomfortable inn where he was to stay for the night. Weary and worn, he leaned his head on his hands, and was heard to say softly: "JESUS, I my cross have taken, All to leave and follow Thee." Yet he found friends without seeking them, people who were attracted by his decision of character and indifference to worldly advantages of birth, fortune and position. One of them was the Rev. J. C. Philpot, M.A., an Anglican clergyman, one time Fellow of Worcester College, Oxford, who was himself a remarkable man and one who had a somewhat adventurous ecclesiastical career. He met Darby when the latter was staying at his brother-in-law's house in Ireland, Philpot being at the time resident tutor there. He was deeply interested in Darby's spiritual exercise when passing through what mystics term "the dark night" of the soul, to which reference has been made in an earlier chapter. This kind of distress Philpot, who had become a Hyper-Calvinist, could appreciate; but quite failed to understand Darby's subsequent joyous sense of complete deliverance, peace with GOD, and assurance of eternal salvation. In 1849 Mr. Philpot became sole editor of the magazine of the Gadsby branch of the Hyper-Calvinistic school of Strict Baptists, The Gospel Standard. It was to this paper he contributed his impression of his old friend. "Darby," he wrote, "was generous to the wasting of his substance, and possessed of more than martyr courage." Their paths had, however, long widely diverged, Darby having forsaken Anglicanism for a simpler Scriptural path of worship, fellowship and service, of which more anon; while Philpot having discarded Infant Baptism as unscriptural (or at most inferential so far as Scripture teaches), had become Pastor of a Strict Baptist Chapel, where for many years he exercised a great ministry.

We have already in some measure considered the purport of the Lord's intercession, that Peter's faith may not fail. That sin has a natural tendency to weaken the practical confidence of the soul in God, I suppose by experience we are well aware. Upon this Satan works to produce a practical separation from Him, which he well knows to be fraught with disastrous consequences. At a distance from God self-judgment is impossible, and power of recovery wholly lost; further departure follows, and here may be the secret of a long period of declension, a night and winter of the soul, dark, cold, and unfruitful. The sins which may follow upon this are but its necessary result and sign. To deal with these as if they were the whole matter, or half the matter, is a most serious mistake; nay, they may be of such a character as to be little noted by the unexercised conscience of the man "hardened by the deceitfulness of He owns, perhaps, he is not spiritual, thinks of it rather as his misfortune than his fault; is a fatalist, when he thinks he is only owning creature nothingness; is "blind and cannot see afar off, and has forgotten that he was purged from his old sins."

Cant. 3: 1. "By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth; I sought him, but I found him not." The heart of the spouse is feeling the loneliness of the night while waiting for the dawn of the morning. She is thinking of the One who brings the morning with Him. But she has lost the sense of His nearness. This is failure. The conscience is awake - the affections are lively: "I sought him whom my soul loveth." Yet there is no joy - she is in trouble. Pray why is this, O my soul? How should this be? Hast thou discovered, in thy meditations, the secret spring of this strange condition? A lively conscience - ardent affections, yet in darkness! There can only be one cause for such a state of soul - the eye rests not on the Beloved Himself. Apparently, there may be other causes, but this is the real one. Her eye has wandered, and she is in darkness - in felt loneliness. She has rest as to salvation; "my bed" - a resting place: though for a moment, it is "night" with the soul.

Cant. 3:1. "By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loves; I sought him, but I found him not." The heart of the spouse is feeling the loneliness of the night while waiting for the dawn of the morning. She is thinking of the One who brings the morning with Him. But she has lost the sense of His nearness. This is failure. The conscience is awake — the affections are lively: "I sought him whom my soul loves." Yet there is no joy — she is in trouble. Pray why is this, O my soul? How should this be? Hast thou discovered, in thy meditations, the secret spring of this strange condition? A lively conscience — ardent affections, yet in darkness! There can only be one cause for such a state of soul — the eye rests not on the Beloved Himself. Apparently, there may be other causes, but this is the real one. Her eye has wandered, and she is in darkness — in felt loneliness. She has rest as to salvation; "my bed" — a resting place: though for a moment, it is "night" with the soul.

When the soul is distressed or cast down, that is not sin in itself. But sin comes in when there is distrust of God.

But these are quite distinct. The trouble and exercise of spirit which the saint may, and indeed will have, whilst living; in this world, because of circumstances around, is altogether an opposite thing to that which is trouble of conscience respecting pardon of sin.

I would add, as a further help, that if there is heart indifference, or even sloth, it is not surprising that we do not find deliverance, or if there is a walk contrary to the mind of the Spirit, or what a Christian should seek, deliverance by the power of the Spirit is hardly to be looked for. But further, if a person who has found deliverance is so walking, though the soul may not get back into uncertainty as to its standing, or return into a state of Romans 7, yet the Spirit which is the power of this new state, being ever grieved, and so communion with the Father and the Son lost, though not the knowledge of the relationship, the affections not being filled with what belongs to this new position — all is confusion and obscurity in the soul. One is a child, but where is my father? I belong to heaven, but where for me is the heaven I belong to? What I know of both serves but to make me sensible of my actual loss of them. Hence, though it is not subjectively a question whether I am a son, it is objectively a failure of what a son enjoys, so that darkness is on the spirit. I hardly know whether I can call myself so, though I do not doubt it. For this the only remedy is humiliation, and drawing near to the Lord, and giving up the hindering idol.

But there is another cause, and one of a far more grave and serious nature, namely, a careless and unconscientious walk; and cases of this melancholy kind often run to a great extreme — even to actual despair. Such cases teach the importance of seeking a close and faithful walk with God. "He will keep the feet of his saints ;" but they are exhorted to "keep their hearts with all diligence." The Spirit reveals Christ, and, if not grieved by sin and worldliness, will build up the soul in His fullness, and establish it in the peace of God which passes all understanding. But, alas! when conscience is tampered with — when we sin against light — when we walk in an indolent and self-indulgent spirit — when we let in the world upon our hearts, then the eye becomes dim, and the understanding darkened; feebleness and langour take the place of energy and vigour; and unless the soul be thoroughly broken down under the sense of its delusion, and restored by the grace of God, in all probability Satan will entangle it in the destructive meshes of carnality and worldliness; or, it may be, will well-nigh drive it into the dread region of infidelity. Should this paper fall into the hands of any one suffering in this way, let me entreat him at once to pause, and having ascertained, by honest self-judgement, the real cause of his low, heavy state, to bring it into the presence of his heavenly Father, and thus confess, judge and put away his evil. "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

Now, when there is not at first the experience of what one is, and there is much turning in on oneself, we must pass through it; and if there is carelessness Satan uses it to throw everything into uncertainty, to make us ask if we have not been deceiving ourselves, to give us the idea that we have committed the sin against the Holy Ghost (a very common experience, although the thought even is not found in the word). But it is always in such cases that one has not given up connecting the state of the soul with the question of acceptance. Now, any one who does that is under law, and he who is under law does not believe himself to be already lost. He may accept this as a truth and in relation to his guilt; but that means that we have deserved condemnation, so that we dread condemnation; and it is quite another thing from believing that we are already lost. When we connect our state with the question of acceptance, a better state would get us out of the difficulty. The law always supposes the possibility of a state which would give peace, of a "salvable" state: now such a state does not exist. If we are already lost, it is no longer a question to be resolved. Moreover, this condition may be prolonged, because if one is not in the presence of God, we do not openly and really come to the consciousness of our state; and this must be in order to have solid peace; for no state, either existing or hoped for, is the righteousness of God.

But be of good cheer; the Lord makes all work together for good to them that love Him. Your case is not extraordinary. Often souls are attracted by the grace of Jesus, or some religious impression, but the conscience slightly touched; a season of neglect ensues, and then the passages which speak of turning back are strongly applied to the conscience, instead of those which speak of ordinary evil, as in the case when the conscience is reached at the beginning. The enemy always seeks to profit by these convictions, when he can no longer hold the soul in bondage by carelessness, and would drive it to despair and hard thoughts of God. The Lord does not hinder this, for it adds to the seriousness of the convictions, but He is faithful in the end to bring us out of it. If our imagination or feelings are at work, our joys and distress will be more apparent and acute, for the flesh mingles with this also, though the ground work be real. When you know Christ and yourself better, you will be better able to discern between what is accessory merely, and real; but it is of little importance to you now, and God is faithful, though you know that when Peter denied Christ with execrations, Christ had prayed for him that his faith might not fail. It was permitted, because Peter had need of this sad lesson as to himself, and this painfully acquired knowledge of himself was the means of his being able to strengthen even his brethren, for all that humbles us is good; but I desire to remark in the case of Peter, that behind all this scene there was the intercession of Christ which secured the recovery of Peter and the maintenance of his faith, his confidence, and reliance on the goodness of God, instead of falling into despair as Judas; as he says afterwards, "If so be ye have tasted that the Lord is gracious."