Whatever, then, breaks this up is a blessing. No excitement can be so
dangerous, so deadly, as this indifference. Better a thousand times
the wild hurricane than the calm miasma. Better the stream which
rushes impetuously over its banks, carrying with it devastation for a
time, than the dead and foetid marsh. The one may be turned into a new
channel, and made available as a power for advancing the interests of
man, but the other is "evil, and only evil continually," Whatever,
therefore, we repeat it, tends in providence to destroy indifference,
and induces people to _listen_ with earnestness and attention to the
truth,--be it the excitement of a storm or earthquake, of a great
religious revival, or of domestic bereavement and sorrow,--whatever it
be, yet is it a blessing if it prepares the soul to receive the seed
of the gospel, by inducing men even to _think_ seriously, as the first
condition for their ultimately believing seriously.

But this excitement which alarms so many sober-minded people was not,
after all, an element which vitiated the religious "movements" in the
early ages of Christianity. There were rational Sadducees, learned
scribes, and formal Pharisees, who were much displeased at the
excitement of the multitude when Jesus made His triumphant entry into
Jerusalem. But when our Lord was asked to rebuke them, He replied
that the very stones would cry out if these were silent. Was there no
excitement on the day of Pentecost when thousands were crying out,
"What shall we do to be saved?" The preaching of the gospel was
everywhere accompanied by such awakenings as arrested the attention of
cities and nations. Would God it were so now!

But, in once more meeting this objection, we cannot help noticing the
character of the persons who most generally urge it. How often does