IT cannot be denied, that the congregational independency of

New-England, established by her puritan ancestry, has run a race of

some steadiness. The moral imprint of the pilgrim fathers was too

deep, not to last long, and their institutions too well devised, to

be easily disturbed. But look to the Unitarian defection, of which

her great metropolis is the centre, and the first foot-marks of the

banished immigrants the strongest hold! Look to Harvard University,

founded in the faith, nurtured by the prayers, and endowed by the

money, of the pilgrims, and of their descendants, now transferred

to another and far different faith. We allude to this change, as

historians simply, and not as theological censors. Look to the whole

community, originally organized as a religious society, on the basis

of a theory, that its religious character should be abiding, and its

religious authority supreme, and lo! its religious establishment has

long since been thrown to the winds, and all religious organizations

become secondary and dependant; viewed with jealousy, and denied all

participation in affairs of state! Look at her theology, originally

Calvinistic of the highest school, and behold the gradations through

which it has passed! Unitarianism has taken her original and

strongest posts; the Edwardian metaphysical school has had its day;

Hopkinsianism is out of date; and at this moment, a system y'clept

_New Divinity_ is in full rage! We stay not to tell of the Taste and

Exercise scheme, and others already forgotten; or to mark the career

of Wesleyanism, Free-will-ism, and nameless et ceteras. Her primitive

catechisms, alas! where are they?--and in what account are they held?

Look at her pastors, originally as gods in the land, trampled under

foot by a new regime of itinerating society-agents, whose will is

law, and whom to oppose is sedition and undoing!

Neither can it be denied, that Presbyterianism has had some character

and force. We should almost as soon have believed, had we been

flourishing some fifty years ago, that Ben Nevis, or Ben Lomond, or

Salisbury-Crag, or Arthur's Seat, or any other rock of Scotland,

in highland or low, would have turned to sand, and been blown away

by the winds, or melted down into mud, mingling with the lochs,

or dissolving into snow, or evaporated into clouds, as that the

religion of John Knox should have yielded to circumstances, and

been modified. But 'time and chance happeneth to all,' and to every

thing. Puritanism hath yielded; and why, philosophically speaking,

should not its cognate Presbyterianism? Wonderful to relate, the

alphabetical symbols of the title-page of her Confession of Faith

and Directory seem to be dancing in the eye, and menaced with some

new combination; and the original imprint is already gone. The body

of the Presbyterian Church of the United States is transformed into

another body. The tide of innovation rolls onward irresistibly. The

wheels of the chariot of reform spins to the eye and ear like the top

that has just been sprung from the fingers of the watchful little

urchin; or buzz invisible, like the round tire of the spinster, as

she draws out the forming thread from between her thumb and first

digit, conscious of her powers, and dancing to and fro with the airs

of a sprite. A machinery is in motion, before which apparently the

Presbyterian Church can no longer stand, except by the secession

of a minority, and the loss of her Seminaries and endowments. The

'_Sauve qui peut!_' has not yet in fact come to our ears; and it is

barely possible that the retreat of a fragment of her hosts may yet

be conducted with some appearance of order. As a matter of fact,

Congregationalism, in its modified condition, and pregnant with

enterprise and change, hath stolen into her ranks, seized her flag,

and now commands her legions. It may not be quite fair; nevertheless,

triumphant invasion, like successful insurrection, may laugh at

such moral casuistry, and go on its way rejoicing. We have nothing

to do with these facts, except as they bear on our present design

of showing how the elements of change have been operating among us,

in what forms they are developed, and to indicate their probable

origin.[2]

The Episcopal Church of the United States, as is well known, is a

fragment of the Church of England--has adopted in substance the

liturgy and discipline of her parent, maintains her consistency by

attachment to these forms, and bids fair to go on without change

under an ecclesiastical polity adapted to the state of society in

this country.

Of Wesleyanism, we have little to say, except in compliment of its

tolerable consistency. No hierarchy has ever been formed on earth, at

least in Christendom, of a more unlimited power of control. And so

long as they come down and adapt themselves to popular impulses, they

may do well. Mankind will never rebel against government, however

concentrated and energetic its constitutional powers, so long as it

humors, and never crosses, their prejudices. We mean no disrespect

by the comparison; but we suppose it will hardly be denied, that

Methodism began, and has principally been supported, by aggressive

movements on territories previously occupied, though not perhaps

sufficiently well improved, by other Christian sects; and a close and

rigorous discipline is indispensable to the enterprises of invaders.

Like as it happens to all conquerors, who seem likely to maintain

their ground, for the sake of peace, the world has accorded to them

the dominion they have acquired. The fact that Methodism is Methodism

still, in the midst of the turmoil of revolution that is going on

in our religious world, and that its former characteristic wildness

rather subsides into the airs of sobriety, while the confusion of

fanaticism rages in other ranks, where the boast of comparative

order was once cried as a badge of honor, would seem to demonstrate,

that the great and fundamental principle of government which the

Methodists have built upon, hath a conservative power in it worthy to

command respect.

The Baptists are a thoroughly radical denomination, with the

exception of the one great principle that binds them together. That

is forever conservative in the direction of its own single aim,

which is supported by a plausible argument in the lower regions of

mind; and until the mass of mankind shall have become sufficiently

enlightened to escape from the dominion of one idea, it is likely

to have considerable influence. Bating this element, no class of

Christians are more susceptible of being driven to and fro by the

shifting blasts of fanaticism, and none have enacted wilder parts

throughout our borders. A ministry they have, in fact, because it

is necessary; but they repudiate the principle of such an order

descending by ministerial appointment in their own line, and by their

own sole ordination. In principle, if we rightly understand them,

every member of their society is on the same level.

We might characterize other minor religious bodies that have enacted

their parts in our land, and had some influence. But these to which

we have glanced, are _gentes majores_ among our sectarian clans;

not, however, to speak disrespectfully, but merely to indulge in

some variety and sport of figure. These, it will be granted, have

taken the lead in those religious enterprises which have recently

signalized our history, and among these the descendants of the

puritans have not been the least distinguished.

If there be any truth and faithfulness in the portraiture of

puritanical character, drawn in the review of Milton's posthumous

writings, in the Edinburgh Review, some few years ago, it would

appear, that a belief in the marvellous was one of its prominent

traits. The faith of a puritan always had power to call to its aid

celestial agencies; and that which goes deeply into the belief of

enthusiastic religionists, is likely to come to pass in some manner

to satisfy their dreams and visions. If they believe in witches, they

will have them; in ghosts, they will muster in throngs; and their

existence will be so well attested, that incredulity itself must

yield to the verdict. The faculty of high and mysterious communion

with heaven, might be set down as one of the definitions of the

genius of puritanism. So was it in the mother country; so was it in

New-England. Cotton Mather's writings are a conscientious record of

facts; of facts, the existence of which the reverend author never

entertained a doubt, and which was the creed of the time.

We may add, there was a spice of the faith of miracles in the

puritanical creed; miracles in the natural and moral world. Was not

a generation that could swallow such marvellous accounts as Cotton

Mather's and the like, easy of faith?

And it should be borne in mind, that this disposition was an

all-powerful element of the moral world in that age; that it

naturally descended from father to son; and that ages must

necessarily pass away, under any modifying causes whatever, before it

could be entirely effaced. New-England, and some other parts of our

country, had long reposed under the shadow of this great tree. Its

fruit dropped into their lap, and they lived on it.

Neither is it any less notable, that this character has been

principally developed in the religious form. The civil right of

religious liberty was, indeed, the original element of strife, which

stirred up the action of religion in extravagant modes. But religion

was the ruling passion. It was religion that brought the puritan

emigrants to this country; religion was the basis and soul of their

empire; religion was in all their thoughts, and feelings, and plans.

But it was a religion of their own order; a religion with their own

characteristic peculiarities; a religion asserting what might be

called a rampant freedom; a religion paying great respect to the

dreams of enthusiasts; which had learned to trample on authority

civil and ecclesiastical, and which, ever after, could ill brook

control of any description.

It was also a religion of enthusiastic expectation. Based on the

marvellous, infused with the marvellous, it could be satisfied with

nothing but the marvellous. Impatient of being controlled, it was

equally impatient to use control. Like the abolitionists of this

hour, it distilled principles up to the highest possible proofs

of the art, and then swallowed and administered them, to turn

men's brains. 'Slavery is wrong,' say these more modern theorists;

'therefore, be it enacted, there shall be no more slavery from

this moment.' 'Christianity is designed to bring in the millenium;

therefore,' reasoned the puritan fathers, 'we will have it forthwith.

We will set up society, in this new world, on this model.' The theory

was, as we suppose, that a code-millenial would bring about the

millenium. Certain it is, that the fathers of New-England attempted,

by statutory provisions, to enact a religious and perfect state of

society. They, doubtless, believed it could be done. Confident of

the correctness of the theory, the failure was, probably, regarded

as a mistake, or some defect in the mode of its application; or, as

owing to some adverse influences; for, from that day to this, there

has been prevalent, by fits, a sort of religious epidemic, more or

less extensive, in our community, developing symptoms of a like

faith, that it is possible, by a single stage, to pass from all our

imperfections to perfection; and from the immediate conversion of

our own country, to the immediate conversion of all the world. In no

part of the world, and in no age, has there been so much abortive

and disastrous scheming for moral reform, and religious enterprise,

as among us. The original theory of a politico-religious state of

society, undertaken by the fathers of New-England, as we need not

say, was necessarily abandoned at an early period. A brief experiment

proved it to be impracticable. But this leaven of undefined and

enthusiastic expectation has ever been at work. It has appeared, in

various forms, in almost every religious sect known in the country,

older or younger, larger or smaller.

In the revivals of the time of Jonathan Edwards, and onward, it

was confidently believed that the millenium had dawned. The deep

religious feeling of the time was every where pervaded by this

sentiment--an innocent state of mind, indeed, and very romantic. It

was the natural fruit of the stock which had borne and matured it.

Good as was the tree, in the main, these faulty excrescences were

constantly shooting forth. The sap was deeply infused with a diseased

virus, and the roots were planted in a not uncongenial soil. And

the worst of it was, that the culture, for the most part, kept in

check the better qualities, and nourished the more vicious. As much

reverence as we have been taught, and accustomed to feel, for the

name, character, and talents of Jonathan Edwards, it can hardly be

denied, that he was greatly influenced by the peculiar atmosphere

of his time. 'Would to God,' many, doubtless, will say, 'that the

theologians of our day had more of his spirit!' To which we cordially

say, 'Amen!' Were not the Tennents enthusiasts? And with all the

eloquence of Whitfield, had he not many of the qualities of a ranter?

Admitting that he gave an impulse to the religious action of the age,

what has been the subsidence? In England we have the two hives of the

Tottenham Court and Moorfields Chapels, not very productive of honey.

The Lady Huntington Connection scarcely subsists by a semi-conformity

to the Church of England. In this country, the vehemence of its

career left behind it such fruits, and developed itself in such

forms, as the Davenport faction. Doubtless there may be a different

opinion as to this connection, as cause and effect; but with us it

seems to be legitimate. Had Whitfield been as skilful a tactician

as Wesley, and organized his corps, he might have left the field in

a better plight. But the effect of his career was, to set things

loose, with no abiding power to regulate them. Separatism, disorder,

and devastation, were the natural consequence. That Whitfield did

good, who will deny? That his mode of operation was a germ of evil,

is scarcely less evident. To balance these influences, and estimate

the difference, is a nicer task than we can presume to undertake.

This much, however, we will venture to say: that no calculation can

determine this question, which does not weigh well the importance

of order to the welfare of society, in the long run. The time, we

believe, has come, even in our country, when this item of moral

arithmetic is getting to be appreciated.

Come we, then, after so long a discussion, to the more astounding

facts of our recent religious history. If, indeed, it should be

thought or said, there are more things in heaven and earth than

our philosophy has dreamed of; though doubtless some will account

us as having made good search, and perhaps will accuse us of too

much philosophy; or, if they who may feel any urgent reasons for

rejecting our conclusions, shall aver, that we have labored in vain

to establish a connection where no connection exists, which we partly

opine may happen, not so much from a consciousness of weakness in our

argument, as for the anticipated convenience of our adversaries; we

nevertheless think, that all concerned will agree in the necessity

of philosophizing a little on the phenomena subjected to our

consideration. There must be a cause for these great and impressive

developments; and the cause lies deep in the past. Human society, in

the aggregate, never comes to such results, independent of antecedent

stages and influences, that are competent to produce them; and at

no time can they be so distinctly traced, as when the long line of

events which has at last brought on a crisis, is laid under the eye

of the observer, and is capable of being calmly examined.

We pause, then, in this place, to ask: 'What is the more prominent

and distinctive religious symptomatic feature of our age and

country?' If we may credit the press, in all its disclosures, we are

strongly inclined to the conviction, that all the sober men in our

religious world, of all sects, will agree in the verdict, that it is

a something, which can be defined by no single and comprehensive term

so well as that of _Charlatanry_. The science of history seems to

have been discarded, and all professional advice growing out of it

in a great measure has gone into contempt. A regular education, based

on the experience of ages, is supplanted by schools of quackery, of

mushroom growth, each propounding its own specific for the cure of

all the social and moral evils that have visited, and which are now

afflicting, mankind.

We mean not to quarrel with the advocates and promoters of revivals,

the more sober and more reasonable class of which is to be found in

our history; nor to deny that there is a philosophy in the theory of

them, when properly chastened and regulated, which can be vindicated

by scripture, and the social character of man. But who does not

know, that this theory has been over-worked in the application,

and produced the most disastrous results? Because some apparent

good had come out of public religious awakenings, it was very

natural for ardent religionists, ministers, and laymen, to desire

them more frequently and extensively. Hence the inquiry into their

causes, or immediate occasions; and hence the gradual formation and

application of a theory, as the means of producing them. The same

disposition which began to theorize, continued to theorize; and as

the common proverb hath it, 'Practice makes perfect,' so in this

matter, practice has at least altered the theory, and continued to

alter it in every hand that took it up. Some twenty years ago, or

less, as is very well known, the great and leading revivalist of

the day theorized so minutely, not to say extravagantly, as to be

scrupulously exact in the selection of time and circumstance for

his operations; in the kind of room; preferring any other rather

than a church; any place rather than a pulpit; in the arrangement of

seats, in the grouping of his hearers, in the position and number

of lights, etc., etc. The physical-mechanical was as much a study

as the mechanical-moral. Like the lawyer who could not pursue his

argument without the thread which he had been accustomed to have

on his finger, no more could this revivalist operate with effect,

independent of his own peculiar machinery. When this came to be

generally understood, the charm of it vanished with the discovery.

The power of this genius consisted in the art of insinuation--we mean

not in the bad sense--but in coming at the mind and affections in a

still and quiet way, by the action of an unperceived machinery, in

connection with Bible truth. It is to be observed, that the theory

then prevalent among the great body of those who sympathized with

these transactions, was, that this was the way to subdue and convert

the world; that every thing else should yield to, and fall in with,

this. It was a religious catholicon. For a considerable time the most

stirring portions of our religious world were under this species of

influence. It was a particular and new form of revivals; and we know

not why it should have been distinguished from that which immediately

succeeded, by calling the latter a system of 'new measures,' except

as one differed from the other. Both, certainly, were new, and both

prescribed one capital and fundamental principle-'the anxious seat.'

But another genius soon after arose, of a very different order; a

mighty mind of the giant race; a Boanerges--a very 'son of thunder;'

the blaze of whose career eclipsed the twinkling light of his

predecessor, and the noise of whose artillery silenced all former

noises of the same denomination. 'He went not up to Jerusalem to

those who were apostles before him;' but he 'went down into Arabia.'

None can boast of having been his teachers. His genealogy is not

reckoned. He was a priest of his own order, of his own making, and

after his own model.

The system of more gentle measures had begun to decline and to lose

its force; the arts of the machinery were getting to be understood.

Something more startling and more astounding was demanded for the

exigencies of the time:

----'That proud honor claimed

Azarel as his right, a cherub tall;

Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl'd

The imperial ensign; which, full high advanced,

Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind.

At which the universal host up sent

A shout that tore Hell's concave, and beyond

Frighted the reign of chaos and old night.'

Now we solemnly protest, that we intend to subject no being, or

beings, to the disadvantage of this comparison. By the whisperings

of some spirit, good or evil, it came buzzing in our ear just as the

previous sentence of sober prose was finished. Or rather, it was a

contiguous phrase, which first intruded on our attention, and which

readeth as follows:

'All in a moment through the gloom were seen

Ten thousand banners rise into the air,

With orient colors waving. With them rose

A forest huge of spears; and thronging helms

Appeared, and serried shields in thick array,

Of depth immeasurable. Anon they move

In perfect phalanx,' etc.

Nay, far be it from us so much to depreciate that individual, and the

hosts which rose so soon at his bidding. Yet it cannot be denied,

that, setting aside the place where this other scene was laid, and

the class of beings engaged in it, there is some striking likeness

between the two. In either case, there was a tremendous show of

fight. Never, probably, were so many sinners driven from the error

of their ways in so short a time, by mere dint of the impression of

terror on their nerves. It is to be hoped they will stay driven;

though we confess we want confidence in conversions effected in this

rude way. Honestly, most conscientiously, we do not think it good for

society, or for the church of God, in the long run, but positively

bad. It cannot be long endured, before men see through it all, and

the rëaction is sure, great, and fearful.

Thenceforward, after the introduction of these 'new measures,' very

extraordinary indeed, the old way could no longer prosper. A new

taste was formed, and forming, in the public mind. The appetite

for excitement, which had been over-fed, became diseased, and its

cravings unnatural. The theory of revivals had been greatly extended,

or pushed to an extreme, which we hardly know how to describe; and

the application of it overran the country in this new form. The

religious pastors of the land, who have not been sent adrift by this

flood, have maintained their ground with no little difficulty and

peril. Through a very great portion of the leading sects this spirit

has been rife; and probably not a single society could be found, that

has not some sympathy with it.

As might have been expected, the end was not yet. Such an impetus

of change must be followed with change. Although a prophecy of the

stage we have just had under consideration, if it had been uttered

ten years before it came upon us, as destined so soon, or ever, to

transpire, would have been regarded as the effusion of a madman's

brain, and utterly incredible, yet it speedily became stale; and the

appetite which it created palled for something still more extravagant

and outrageous. And lo! another genius appeared, out-Heroding

Herod! The last extravagance assumed the aspect of sobriety in such

comparison; and the very man who had introduced the former, if we

have been rightly informed, and which we can easily believe, was

shocked at the anomalies of the latter! Certainly the two great

apostles have never worked in company, but have seemed to be looking

at each other rather awry, as they have swept to and fro over the

wide range of their several itinerancies. Not to follow the last, in

the long and devious line of his labors, and over the far-reaching

scope of his influence, the whole of which exhibits one uniform scene

of devastation, as to all we are accustomed to regard most desirable

and hopeful in religious society, it is enough that we point to the

public enactments of Chatham-street Chapel, New-York, from day to

day, and from week to week, in the winter and spring of 1837. Verily,

if it be possible to render religion and all its sacred things more

ridiculous; more the laughing stock of the vulgar and profane; more

the contempt and scorn of infidelity, itself sowing and nourishing

infidelity, it can only be some other equally unexpected and

inconceivable development of the same class, which, if it must come,

we pray heaven may be the last curse and blighting of our religious

prospects.

Both these methods of procedure, which indeed are of the same

class, differing only in degree, have been cried over the land by

their leaders and advocates, who are not a few, as the way, and the

only way, to convert the world. They are two other species of the

religious charlatanry of our age and country.

The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 2, August 1837 · 第 5 / 11 段