EVIL EFFECTS OF POPULAR SUPERSTITIONS.
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.