The following are some of the evils that result from a belief in popular superstitions:—

1. They have caused a great waste of time. Look at the practice of heathen nations. Their religious ceremonies are altogether superstitious. All the time devoted to false gods must be considered as wasted. Take a survey, too, of Catholic countries. During the dark ages, their priests were engaged in nonsensical disputes. Treatise after treatise was composed on such subjects as the following: How many angels can stand on the point of a needle? Have spirits any navels? Is the Virgin Mary the mother of God? and a thousand others equally senseless and unprofitable. In their monasteries, multitudes passed their days in repeating unintelligible prayers, poring over the legends of their saints, cutting figures in paper, and tormenting their bodies for the good of their souls. Turn our attention to Protestant lands, and here we find, also, that many a folio has been written on foolish and unintelligible subjects; that many a day has been occupied in trying and burning witches and heretics; that many a pharasaic custom has been scrupulously observed, and many an absurd opinion advanced and defended. Even in our own times, many hours are occupied in discoursing about dreams and visions, signs and tricks, spectres and apparitions; in consulting charms and lots, and fortune tellers; in prying into future events and occurrences; in borrowing trouble on account of some supposed unfavorable omen; or in various other practices equally vain and superstitious. Now, all this is wrong. Time is given for no such purposes. We have but a short period allotted to us to remain in this world, and a great work to accomplish. Let us then be always engaged in something useful and virtuous.

2. Popular superstitions have caused a great waste of human life. Cast your eye over the page of history. You there notice an account of the trial by ordeal. The accused person was required either to hold red-hot iron balls in his naked hands, or to walk over red-hot plates of iron with bare feet. If he escaped unburned, he was considered innocent; but if he was scorched, sentence of death was pronounced. Or he was compelled either to thrust his arm into a caldron of boiling water, or be thrown into a deep pond. If he was either unscalded or drowned, his innocence was proved; but if he was scalded or could swim, the sentence of condemnation was passed. In neither case could life be saved, except by the interposition of a miracle; and this was not expected on such occasions. And through this superstition, thousands perished in the most cruel and unrighteous manner. A distinguished writer computes that more than one hundred thousand persons, of all ages, have suffered death for witchcraft alone. Only think! one hundred thousand persons murdered for a crime of which no human person was ever guilty!

There are others who bring upon themselves sickness, and even death, by their belief in signs, dreams, and forewarnings. But as the gospel sheds abroad its divine light, these things are found to recede, and to give place to more rational views of divine wisdom and goodness, in the control and arrangement of events having a relation to our being and happiness. The author of the Family EncyclopÆdia says, that "the superstitious notions of ghosts, spirits, &c., are rapidly declining; and notwithstanding all the solemn tales which have been propagated, there is no reason to believe that any real spirits or celestial agents have held intercourse with man since the establishment of Christianity;" and that "the history of modern miracles, appearances of the dead, &c., will be always found, when thoroughly examined, merely the phantoms of a disordered imagination."

3. Popular superstitions have caused great and unnecessary misery. We need not refer to history for an illustration of this assertion. We have sufficient examples around us. Look into society, and we shall find one class who pay particular attention to all signs and dreams. If any thing unfavorable is indicated, their feelings are greatly depressed; and if the contrary, they are as much elated. If a little insect, called the death watch, knocks for its mate on the wall, sleepless nights are sure to follow. If they notice the new moon over the wrong shoulder, their comfort is destroyed for a whole month. Nanny Scott, the old washerwoman, is sure that another death will happen in the family this year, because, when her sister-in-law was taken out to be buried, somebody shut the door before the corpse was under ground, and so shut death into the house. And her neighbor, the good Mrs. Taylor, suffers the baby to scratch and disfigure its face, because it is said to be unlucky to cut the nails of a child under a year old. Another neighbor has seen a single raven fly over the house, or heard a cricket chirping upon the hearth, and is greatly alarmed, because such things are said to be a sign of death to some member of the family within the year. And thus many are found who are silly enough to imbitter their own lives and the lives of others by such foolish superstitions.

There may be noticed another class, whose belief in the supernatural origin of signs, omens, and warnings leads them to adopt measures for their speedy fulfilment. Many a wedded couple seem to think they must quarrel because it happened to storm on the day they were married; and when some dispute arises between them, they fall to fighting, to prove, if possible, the truth of the prediction. And for all this interruption of domestic harmony, they blame, not their own tempers and passions, but the decrees of fate. Many a person has concluded he must live in poverty all his days, because a few moles have appeared on the wrong side of his body. And hence he neglects all industry and economy, and dissipates his time, his privileges, and his talents.

We may notice a third class, who give themselves to tricks, fortune telling, and opening books, to discover the events of futurity. Their spirits vary with the supposed indications of good or evil occurrences. "A lady, who moved in the first circles, was once visiting in a clergyman's family of my acquaintance," says the late Rev. Bernard Whitman, "and it was her regular morning custom to toss up a little box of pins, and make her happiness for the day depend upon their accidental variation in falling. If they came down more heads than points, she was cheerful and happy; but if more points than heads, she was gloomy and wretched. It seemed she valued her comfort, worth at least a brass pin." Many a worthy Christian has not only been deprived of his happiness, but betrayed into wild, extravagant, and even sinful acts, by attempting to follow the suggestion of the passage which first meets his eye on opening the Bible. Many a poor wight has formed a disadvantageous matrimonial alliance, because some old hag has described black eyes and rosy cheeks as the characteristics of his future bride.

We may notice, moreover, a fourth class, who are forever anticipating some dreadful calamity. Let any fool solemnly proclaim that war, famine, or pestilence is approaching, and they will give more heed to it than to that holy word which assures us that our heavenly Father will never leave nor forsake us. All uncommon appearances in the heavens they look upon as indications of the threatened judgments of an angry God. Even the beautiful Aurora Borealis, which spans the blue concave above us, was so interpreted. To permit such fears to disturb and destroy our happiness is a sin against Heaven. Our heavenly Father created us for enjoyment. He has furnished us with capacities and means of felicity. He has even commanded us to rejoice in the Lord always. He has given us a religion to effect this desirable object. It is as much a part of this religion to be always cheerful, contented, and happy, as to be always temperate, just, and virtuous. And if people would take one tenth part of the pains to make themselves happy that they do to render themselves miserable, there would be ten times the present amount of happiness. "By the grace of God," says the Rev. John Wesley, "I never fret. I repine at nothing; I am discontented at nothing. And to have persons at my ear fretting and murmuring at every thing is like tearing the flesh from off my bones. I see God sitting upon his throne, and ruling all things well." A companion of Mr. Wesley says that he never saw him low-spirited in his life, nor could he endure to be with an unhappy, melancholic person. "Every believer," he often remarked, "should enjoy life." "I dare no more fret," said he, "than curse or swear." Would that all Christians were as cheerful and consistent as Mr. Wesley. There would be less of dark and dismal forebodings; less of distrust, and more of solid peace and comfort, in the soul. It seems that Melancthon was somewhat of a melancholic turn of mind, and, when gloomy and dejected, would call upon Luther, and relate to him his troubles and afflictions. Luther, being of a more lively and hopeful turn, after listening to him a short time, would jump upon his feet, and say, "Come, come, let us sing the forty-sixth psalm;" and when they had sung that, all was peaceful and happy again.

As to what is commonly termed good or ill luck, we may be assured that they have no other existence but in the imagination. Luck means chance; but every thing, great and small, is under the wise and gracious direction of God. Nothing can happen without his permission, and he permits nothing but what, in his wonderful plans, he designs to work for our good. We are kept in ignorance of the particular events that are to befall us, in order to keep alive within us an abiding sense of our dependence on God, and a constant obedience to the directions of his word, by which alone we can be prepared to meet the dispensations of his providence. The Bible tells us quite enough of futurity to teach us to prepare for it, as far as it rests with us to prepare. And it is both vain and wicked to endeavor to obtain any further information from any other source, or for any one to pretend that they possess it. Had it been necessary for our good that we should know every thing beforehand, the information would have been given us in the Bible, or it would have been left so that we could have gathered it from general instruction and observation, as is the case with every kind of knowledge that is essential to our present as well as everlasting good. It certainly would not have been left to creaking doors, croaking ravens, or ill-made tallow candles. Neither would God reveal to weak and wicked men or women the designs of his providence, which no human wisdom is able to foresee. To consult these false oracles is not only foolish, but sinful. It is foolish, because they themselves are as ignorant as those whom they pretend to teach; and it is sinful, because it is prying into that futurity which God, in mercy, as well as in wisdom, hides from man. God indeed orders all things; but when you have a mind to do a foolish thing, do not fancy that you are fated to do it; this is tempting Providence, not trusting God. It is charging him with folly. Prudence is his gift, and you obey him better when you make use of prudence, under the direction of prayer, than when you heedlessly rash into ruin, and think you are only submitting to your fate. Fancy never that you are compelled to undo yourself, or to rush upon your own destruction, in compliance with any supposed fatality. Believe never that God conceals his will from a sober Christian, who obeys his laws, and reveals it to a vagabond, who goes from place to place, breaking the laws both of God and man. King Saul never consulted the witch until he left off serving God. The Bible will direct us best. Conjurers are impostors; and there are no days unlucky but those we make so by our vanity, folly, and sin.

4. Popular superstitions have greatly injured the cause of medicine. That superstition which leads people to believe in the efficacy of charms is very injurious. We will enumerate a few cases by way of example. The scrofula, for instance, is frequently called the king's evil. It received this name because it was generally believed that the touch of a king would cure the disorder. For centuries this belief was so prevalent, that any one who should call it in question would have been considered no less than an infidel, and an enemy to his king and country. And so great was the demand for the king's touch, from invalids, that one day in seven was set apart for the king to bestow healing mercies on his subjects. Vast numbers flocked to him, from Wales, Ireland, Scotland, and many parts of the continent. An exact register was kept of the number of persons who came to Charles the Second for relief, from 1660 to 1664, and they amounted to twenty-three thousand six hundred and one. From May, 1667, to 1684, the number of persons touched amounted to sixty-eight thousand five hundred and six. Total, ninety-two thousand one hundred and seven. The practice was begun in the year 1051, and continued until the reign of the present royal family, who were possessed of too much sense to encourage such an idle superstition. But notwithstanding this belief and practice were abandoned by the royal family, yet, with some individuals, a belief still prevails that certain persons are endowed with healing power.

In 1807, a farmer in Devonshire, England, who was the ninth son of a ninth son, officiated in the cure of the king's evil, and multitudes believed that they received healing from his touch. In this country, a seventh son of a seventh son has officiated in similar cases, and performed incredible cures, as we are told by those who think they have received signal blessings through his instrumentality.

Not many years since, the cold hands of a convict, who had terminated his life on the gallows, in Liverpool, were drawn over several wens a number of times to effect a cure. A person in one of our western states ran a pitchfork into his hand, and he applied a plaster to the cold iron as well as to the fresh wound. When people run a nail into their foot, they frequently save and polish the rusty iron to facilitate the recovery. Some time since, in the State of Maine, the body of a female was taken from the grave, her heart taken out, dried, and pulverized, and given to another member of the family, as a specific against the consumption. And the same thing has more recently been done in the town of Waltham, Massachusetts. The heart was reduced to a powder, and made into pills, but they did not cure the patient; while the person who took up the remains from the grave, and removed the heart, came very near losing his life, from the putrefactive state of the corpse at the time.

We could relate many other cases, equally foolish and disgusting. All such things should be classed under the general name of charms, and be looked upon as relics of the grossest superstitions. Why not as well have the touch of a slave as a king? Why not as well apply your plaster to a tree as to a pitchfork? Why not as well drink the heart of a lamb as a woman? You may say that God has determined certain cures shall follow certain applications. No such determination is published in his word, and no such conclusions can be inferred from facts. You may pretend that a special miracle is wrought in such cases. But this is incredible; for the object is not compatible with the miraculous interposition of Deity. And the few cures which are reputed to have taken place can be satisfactorily accounted for, on the influence of the imagination, and other natural causes. So that such a belief is not only superstitious, but calculated to lead people to neglect the proper means of recovery, and thus injure themselves and the medical profession.

In the years 1808, '9, and '10, a Mr. Austin of Colchester, Vermont, gave out that he was a gifted person in the art of healing; and if the patient would describe to him, by word of mouth, or by letter, the true symptoms of his malady, he would receive healing at his word, if indeed his disease was curable. In a very little time the obscure retreat of Austin was thronged with invalids, coming from almost every section of the country; and Colchester was scarcely less in favor than Ballston or Saratoga. The mail carriers groaned under the burden of maladies described. Bar rooms at public inns, on roads leading to Colchester, were decorated with letters directed to the "Prophet of Colchester;" and vagrants were found travelling over the country, collecting of invalids their evil symptoms, to be truly and faithfully delivered to the prophet in a given time, at the moderate price of fifty cents per letter. We were soon referred to cases wherein the most inveterate deafness was removed; the blind saw; dropsies and consumptions, in the last stages of them, were cured; and the patient, it is said, in many instances, would tell the day and the hour when their letters were received by the prophet, although they might be some hundred miles distant from the deliverer, because, at such an hour, they began to mend. The prophet, however, did not long enjoy his far-famed celebrity. His house, after a while, was deserted of invalids. The people discovered their folly, and permitted him to sink into his former merited obscurity. It was just the same with the celebrated rain-water doctor, as he was called, who established himself at one time in Providence, and at another time in the vicinity of Boston. Many of those now living can recollect the accounts of marvellous cures, and the flocking of invalids of all descriptions to his temple of health. But the community at length discovered the imposition of his practice, and left him to the undisturbed enjoyment of his rain water and his gruel.

The most recent case of medical imposition practised upon the public, that has come to our knowledge, is that of a practitioner in New York city, who, by receiving a letter from sick or diseased persons, giving the year, day, and hour of their birth, immediately forwards them a package of medicine suited to their case. It seems to be a matter of astonishment to many how he arrives at a knowledge of their state of health, so as to be able to adapt his remedies to their several conditions. But it is probably done on the principles of astrology—by finding the planet under which the patient is born, the diseases appertaining to that planet, and the plants belonging to the same, which are supposed to have a special effect upon the relative planetary diseases. Culpepper, in his English Herbal, if we mistake not, arranges or classifies all plants and diseases in this way, and contends that astrology is the only true key to medical science. Fortune telling is practised upon a similar plan, through the agency of astrology. But the whole is a deception, entirely unworthy the age in which we live. The fortune teller may hit upon an incident which is correct, once in a while, and it would be strange if he did not. And the astrological physician may prescribe some little tonic, or stimulant, that will raise the drooping spirits for a time, and actually lead the hopeful patient to believe that he or she is fast recovering from their long-afflictive maladies. But the sequel too often teaches them the lesson of their sad mistake.

The history of Valentine Greataks, the son of an Irish gentleman, who lived in the time of Cromwell, is very similar to what we have related of the prophet of Colchester. And about the same time, Francisco Bagnone, a Capuchin friar, was famous in Italy, having a gift of healing, principally by his hands only. Multitudes of sick people attended him wherever he went, to obtain healing mercy. And here, perhaps, we may find the true principle on which all the impositions of Popery have been maintained for centuries gone by. It cannot be a matter of surprise that, if men, of more information than they, can be made to believe that they are delivered from disease by experiments of magnetism, tractors, or the mere touch of the hand, these should believe that they are healed by visiting the tombs of saints; by standing before their statues; being touched by nails from their coffins, rings from their fingers, or by the bones of the fingers themselves.

We are by no means authorized to say that none of these persons were relieved of pains and diseases by seeking relief in this way. So great is the influence of the imagination on the nervous, vascular, and muscular systems, as has already been shown, that it would be no more than probable that obstructions, causing pain and sickness, should in some instances be removed, and lay a foundation for recovery. And, moreover, that in a still greater number of instances the power of the imagination on the origin of the nerves within the brain should counteract the motion to the brain by disease acting upon the extremities of the nerves; and thus the patient for a season might experience relief from pain, and even feel pleasure, as was the case with an artist upon the Pont Royal, mentioned by Dr. Sigault, and in the gambols of the rheumatic patient, as mentioned by Dr. Haygarth. But in all these cases, experiment and illustration, like those of the commissioners at Paris, and like that of Dr. Haygarth in England, would disclose the real ground of these effects. The patients would no longer attribute them to a supernatural influence. They would learn why, in most cases, the relief supposed to be obtained was only momentary, and why all those gifted persons, both in Europe and America, have had no more than an ephemeral celebrity, and, in most instances, lived to see themselves neglected, and their pretensions become the subjects of just satire and reproof.

5. Popular superstitions have greatly injured the cause of religion. That superstition which allows any substitute for personal holiness is very pernicious. The Pharisees considered themselves holy, because they were the descendants of faithful Abraham. They fasted twice a week; paid tithes of all they possessed; made long prayers in public places; and were strict observers of all sacred days and religious ceremonies. At the same time, they neglected the weightier matters of the law—justice, mercy, faithfulness; devoured widows' houses; were proud, bigoted, and self-righteous.

Some people think they lived only in the times of the apostles. "But we should recollect," says the Rev. George Whitefield, "that vipers and toads have the most eggs, and most numerous progeny. If you were to look at the eggs of a toad through a microscope, you would be surprised at the innumerable multitude; and the Pharisees are an increasing generation of vipers, which hatch and spread all over the world. If you would know a Pharisee, he is one who pretends to endeavor, and talks about keeping the law of God, and does not know its spirituality. There are some of them very great men, in their own estimation, and frequently make the greatest figure in the church. One of them, a gentleman's son, because he had not broken the letter of the law, thought he was right and without sin. "O," says he, "if I have nothing to do but to keep the commandments, I am safe. I have honored my father and mother; I never stole; what need he to steal who has so good an estate? I never committed adultery." No, no! he loved his character too well for that: but our Lord opens to him the law—This one thing thou lackest; go, sell all thou hast, and give to the poor: he loved his money more than his God; Christ brought him back to the first commandment, though he catechized him first in the fifth. So Paul was a Pharisee. He says, 'I was alive without the law, once; I was, touching the law, blameless." How can that be? Can a man be without the law, and yet, touching the law, be blameless? Says he, "I was without the law; that is, I was not brought to see its spirituality. I thought myself a very good man." No man could say of Paul, Black is his eye. "But," says he, "when God brought the commandment with power upon my soul, then I saw my specks, and beheld my lack of true righteousness."

Some Roman Catholics perform tedious pilgrimages; lacerate their own bodies; abstain from meats on certain days; and some have paid the pope or priests for the pardon of their sins, or purchased indulgences for the commission of wickedness. Some Protestants, too, attend punctually upon all religious meetings, subscribe liberally to the charities of the day, observe all gospel ordinances, and profess great attachment to the cause of Christ; and yet are fretful, unkind, and disobliging in their families; censorious in their conversation; uncharitable in their judgment; grasping in their dealings, and unhappy in their dispositions. Some have thought that, because Christ died for the sins of the whole world they could commit sin with impunity; or, if they were elected, they could do what they pleased, and be sure of heaven at last. But all these things have no foundation in reason, experience, or revelation, and may therefore be considered superstitious. A belief in them is exceedingly injurious to the cause of piety and holiness, because it leads to the neglect of the one thing needful—a uniformly sober, righteous, and godly life. God will certainly render unto every man according to his deeds. Be he Pharisee or Sadducee, Catholic or Protestant, elect or non-elect, he can escape the punishment of no sin but by repentance and reformation. And no sin is ever removed, no virtue is ever given, by miracle. Our iniquities must be forsaken, and our goodness acquired, by our own exertions, aided by the promised influence of the Holy Spirit. And, until we have accomplished these ends, we cannot rationally expect pure and permanent happiness.

There have been opinions respecting the devil, tinctured somewhat with superstition, that have contributed to bring reproach upon the Scriptures, which were supposed to teach the existence of just such a being as many believed him to be. Martin Luther, in speaking of his confinement in the castle of Wartburg, says, "The people brought me, among other things, some hazel nuts, which I put into a box, and sometimes I used to crack and eat of them. In the night time, my gentleman, the devil, came and got the nuts out of the box, and cracked them against one of the bed posts, making a very great noise and rumbling about my bed; but I regarded him nothing at all: when afterwards I began to slumber, then he kept such a racket and rumbling upon the chamber stairs, as if many empty barrels and hogsheads had been tumbling down."

Dr. Cotton Mather, in the time of New England witchcraft, took home one of the possessed damsels, to learn the ways and works of Satan. When the doctor called the family to prayers, she would whistle, and sing, and yell, to drown his voice, would strike at him with her fist, and try to kick him. But her hand or foot would always recoil when within an inch or two of his body; thus giving the idea that there was a sort of invisible coat of mail, of heavenly temper, and proof against the assaults of the devil, around his sacred person. She seemed to be greatly displeased at the thought of his making public the doings of her master, the evil one; and when he attempted to write a sermon against him, she would disturb and interrupt him all manner of ways. For instance, she once knocked at his study door, and said that there was somebody down stairs that would be glad to see him; he dropped his pen, and went down: upon entering the room he found no one there but his own family. He afterwards undertook to chide her for having told a falsehood. She denied that she told a falsehood. "Did not you say that there was somebody down stairs that would be glad to see me?" "Well," she replied, with great pertness, "is not Mrs. Mather always glad to see you?" She even went much further than this in persecuting the good man while he was writing his sermon: she threw large books at his head. But he struggled manfully at these buffetings of Satan, as he considered them to be, finished the sermon, related all these and other kindred circumstances in it, preached and published it. Richard Baxter wrote the preface to an edition printed in London, in which he declares that "he who will not be convinced, by the evidence Dr. Mather presents, that the child was bewitched, must be a very obdurate Sadducee."

A few years since, a house in Maine was said to be haunted. The building and furniture were shaken, dreadful noises were heard, dismal sights were seen, and heavy blows were received. The occupant of the house had lately left a Calvinistic theological seminary. He afterwards became a settled Universalist preacher. "A neighboring family informed me," says the late Bernard Whitman, "that he now considered it the Spirit of God, haunting him to forsake Calvinism, and proclaim universal salvation." His explanation, though satisfactory to himself, may not be equally so to our readers.

The devil should never be made a packhorse for our sins, nor should our thoughts be turned from within, causing us to neglect a watch upon our own lusts and passions, in looking for the assaults of some outward tempter. The effect sometimes produced upon the minds of children has a very unfavorable influence. A pious mother, not finding it convenient to attend her little son to rest, told him to omit his prayers for one night. "Mother," said the child, "will the devil forgive me if I neglect my prayers?"

"What shall we say," says the late Professor Stuart, "of the excessive use that has been made of the passages that speak of his influence and dominion? Because, in reference to the wide-spread influence of Satan, he is called the 'prince of this world,' and even the 'god of this world,' are we literally to interpret passages of this nature, and thus in a clandestine manner introduce effectually the old dualism of Zoroaster and the Persians? This, indeed, has often, very often, been substantially done; done, I acknowledge, for the most part without any direct intention of such a nature. Still there is an impression, wide spread among the lower classes of people, even in our own country, that Satan is a kind of omnipotent being; and he is often represented as the successful, or rather the invincible, rival of the great Redeemer.

"Yet the New Testament is full enough of instruction relative to this subject to correct any erroneous views in relation to it, if it be duly examined. I need only appeal to the large class of passages which represent Satan as a conquered enemy; as 'falling like lightning from heaven;' as being reduced to a state of impotence in respect to that deadly power which he exercises, (Heb. ii. 14;) and all the evil principalities, and powers, and magistrates (1 Cor. xv. 24, Eph. vi. 12, Col. ii. 15) as being subdued, or to be subdued and utterly discomfited, by Christ; for 'the prince of this world is cast out,' (John xii. 31;) 'the Son of God was manifested that he might destroy the works of the devil,' (1 John iii. 8;) and Christians are every where spoken of as being liberated from his dominion and power, (1 John v. 18-44.) When the apostle, therefore, calls Satan 'the god of this world,' and the Savior calls him 'the prince of this world,' it is the world of the wicked which is meant; for such is the usual idiom of the Scriptures. And as to the power of Satan over the wicked, it is every where presented in the New Testament as something that will wholly cease after a time, and the reign of the Prince of Peace become universal.

"How deeply these considerations intrench upon the long-practised methods of exhibiting Satan as omnipotent and omnipresent every thinking mind will easily perceive. Especially has the Romish church erred here beyond all bounds of reason or moderation. According to the doctrines which they sedulously inculcate, Satan has not only irresistible power over the world of the wicked, but, next to such a power, even over Christians. Nothing but exorcisms, and holy chrisms, and lustrations with holy water, and incantations, and the like, can keep off evil spirits, or disarm them of their fatal power. And as the consummation and chief end of all the doctrine, nothing short of the interposition of the priesthood can secure any one against destruction, either in this world or the next—an interposition, however, which is not freely given, as the Savior commanded the disciples to impart the blessings of the gospel, but to be purchased at whatever price the church may fix upon it."—Bibliotheca Sacra, February, 1843.

Language sometimes used in times of excitement is prejudicial to the cause of religion. It is sometimes said that the Almighty is visiting such a town; that he is coming this way; that he has taken up his abode in a certain village; that he will remain but a few days; that he has been driven away by unbelievers, and that he cannot be expected again for some months or years. Now, it should be remembered that God is every where present, and that his spirit is always striving within the soul; and its voice is drowned only by the strife and tumult of our own discordant passions. The Spirit is ever ready to assist us, whenever we resolve to use our own efforts in hearty coÖperation. And if revivals of religion seem to be of a periodical nature, it is because our own zeal or engagedness is too fitful. The church can enjoy a constant season of refreshing from the presence of the Lord, only let its members be ever active, ever diligent, ever devoted and persevering. God works not by miracle, but through the agency of common means or efforts. We must not, therefore, defer attention to the duties of religion, in expectation of some special interposition of Heaven. We should remember that a sober, righteous, and godly life is the best evidence of true conversion; and that we are called upon to work out our own salvation with fear and trembling, God himself having vouchsafed to work within us both to will and to do of his good pleasure.