that clergymen are highly esteemed. In the non-political life,
especially in the East, the great preachers are among the most
influential people of the day. The most brilliant ecclesiastic of recent
decades was, by common consent, Phillips Brooks, by whose speech and
personality every one was attracted and ennobled; and it has often been
said that at his death, a few years ago, the country mourned as never
before since the death of Lincoln. No one equal to him has appeared
since, but there are many ministers whose ethical influence must be
accounted among the great factors of public life; and this is true, not
only of the Protestant ministers, but also of several Catholic
ecclesiastics.
The same is true in the more modest communities. The influence of the
preacher is more profound in small communities of America than it is in
Germany. But it is weakened at once if the representative of the church
descends to politics. He is welcomed as an appropriate fellow-worker
only in questions that border both on politics and on morals—as, for
instance, the temperance question. The high position of the clergy is
interestingly shown from the fact that the profession is very often
recruited from the best classes of society. Owing to the American effort
to obliterate social differentiation as much as possible, it is
difficult to make sure of the facts of the situation; but it seems
pretty certain that the men who study for the ministry, especially in
the Episcopalian, Presbyterian, Congregational, and Unitarian churches,
are better born than the men who become school teachers and physicians.
The preacher steps into the pulpit and faces his hearers in a way which
is typically American. Of course, it is impossible to reduce the
ministerial bearing in the 194,000 churches of the country to a single
formula; but one thing may always be noted, by the European, in contrast
to what he has seen at home—the obvious reference of the sermon to the
worldly interests of the congregation. Its outer form already shows
this; the similes and metaphors are borrowed from ordinary and even
vulgar life, the applications are often trivial, but forcible and
striking, and even anecdotes are introduced and given in colloquial
form. More than that, the topic itself is chosen so as to concern
personally nearly every one sitting in the pews; the latest vexation or
disappointment, the cherished hope, or the duty lying nearest to the
individual forms the starting-point of the sermon, and the words of the
Bible are brought home to the needs of the hearers like an expected
guest. The preacher does not try to lure the soul away from daily life,
but he tries to bring something higher into that life and there to make
it living; and if he is the right sort of a preacher, this never works
as a cheapening of what is divine, but as an exaltation of what is
human.
Doubtless it is just on this account that the church is so popular and
the services so well attended. To be sure, frequently the minister is a
sensational pulpit elocutionist, who exploits the latest scandal or the
newest question of the day in order to interest the public and attract
the curious to church. Often the worldly quality of the sermon tends to
another form of depreciation. The sermon becomes a lecture in general
culture, a scientific dissertation, or an educational exercise. Of
course, the abandonment of the strictly religious form of sermon brings
many temptations to all except the best preachers; yet, in general, the
American sermon is unusually powerful.
The popularity of the church does not depend only on the applicability
of the sermon, but in part on social factors which are not nearly so
strong in any part of Europe. If the congregation desires to bring the
general public to church, it will gain its end most surely by offering
attractions of a religiously indifferent nature. These attractions may
indirectly assist the moral work of the church, although their immediate
motive is to stimulate church-going. The man who goes to church merely
in order to hear the excellent music has necessarily to listen to the
sermon; and one who joins the church for the sake of its secular
advantages is at least in that way detained from the frivolous
enjoyments of irreligious circles. Thus, the church has gradually become
a social centre with functions which are as unknown in Germany as the
“parlours” which belong to every church in America. The means of social
attraction must naturally be adapted to the character of the
congregation; the picnics which are popular in the small towns, with
their raffles and social games, their lemonade and cake, would not be
appropriate to the wealthy churches on Fifth Avenue. In the large
cities, æsthetic attractions must be substituted—splendid windows, soft
carpets, fine music, elegant costumes, and fashionable bazars for
charity’s sake.
But the social enjoyment consists not solely in what goes on within the
walls of the church, but specially in the small cities and rural
districts the church is the mediator of almost all social intercourse. A
person who moves to a new part of the town or to an entirely new
village, allies himself to some congregation if he is of the middle
classes, in order to form social connections; and this is the more
natural since, in the religious as in the social life of America, the
women are the most active part of the family. Even the Young Men’s
Christian Associations and similar social organizations under church
auspices play an important rôle utterly unlike anything in Europe. In
Germany such organizations are popularly accounted flabby, and their
very name has a stale flavour. In America they are the centres of social
activity, even in large cities, and have an extraordinary influence on
the hundreds of thousands of members who meet together in the splendid
club buildings, and who are as much interested in sport and education as
in religion.
How fully the church dominates social life may be seen in the prevalent
custom of church weddings. The state does not make a civil wedding
obligatory. As soon as the local civil board has officially licensed the
married couple, the wedding may legally be performed either by a civil
officer or by a minister; yet it is a matter of course with the great
majority of the population that the rings shall be exchanged before the
altar. An avowed atheist is not received in any social circles above
that of the ordinary saloon, and while a politician need not fear that
his particular religion will prevent his being supported by the members
of other churches, he has no prospects for election to any office if he
should be found an actual materialist. When Ingersoll, who was the great
confessed atheist of the country, travelled from city to city for many
years preaching somewhat grotesquely and with the looseness of a
political agitator, the arguments of David Friedrich Strauss, in return
for an admission price, he found everywhere large audiences for his
striking oratory, but very few believers among all the curious
listeners.
The man who is convinced that this mechanical interaction of material
forces is the whole reality of the world, and who therefore in his soul
recognizes no connection between his will and a moral or spiritual
power—in short, the man who does not believe something, no matter
whether he has learned it from the church or from philosophy—is regarded
by the typical American as a curious sort of person and of an inferior
type; the American does not quite understand what such a man means by
his life. By picturing to one’s self the history of America as the
history of a people descended from those who have been religiously
persecuted, and who have made a home for such as are persecuted, ever
since the days when the “Mayflower” landed with the Puritans down to
these days when the Jews are flocking over the ocean from Russia and the
Armenians from Turkey, and by picturing how this people have had to open
up and master the country by hard fighting and hard work, and how they
were therefore constrained to a rigid sense of duty, a serious
conception of life, and an existence almost devoid of pleasure, and how
now all historical and social traditions and all educational influences
strengthen the belief in God and the striving for the soul’s
salvation—one sees that it cannot be otherwise, and that the moral
certainty of the nation cannot be shaken by so-called arguments.
It is true, of course, that one hears on all sides complaints against
the increasing ungodliness; and it is not to be denied that the
proletariat of the large cities is for the most part outside of the
church. The population which owns no church allegiance is estimated at
five millions, but among these there is a relatively large fraction of
indifferent persons, who are too lazy to go to church; a free-thinking
animosity to religion is uncommon. The American who feels that his
church no longer corresponds to his own belief has an ample opportunity
to choose among all the many sects one which is just adapted to himself.
He will leave his own church in order to join some other straightway;
but even if he leaves church attendance in future to his wife and
daughters, or if he with his whole family leaves the congregation, this
generally means that he can serve God without a minister. Real
irreligion does not fit his character; and any doubt which science may
perhaps occasion in him ends, not by shaking his religion, but by making
it more liberal. This process of increasing freedom from dogma and of
intellectualization of the church goes on steadily in the upper classes
of society. The development of the Unitarian Church out of Orthodox
Calvinism has been most influential on the intellectual life of the
nation, but its fundamental religious tone has not been lessened
thereby.
To be churchly means not only to comply with the ordinances of the
church, but to contribute to the funds of the church and to give one’s
labour. And since the state does not impose any taxes in the interests
of the church, material support is wholly dependent on the good will of
the community. In fact, lay activity is everywhere helpful. Of this the
Sunday-schools are typical, which are visited by eight million children,
and supported everywhere by the willing labour of unpaid teachers. The
known property belonging to churches is estimated at seven hundred
million dollars, and the rental of seats brings them handsome incomes.
More than this, all church property is exempt from taxation.
Nevertheless, so many ecclesiastical needs remain unsatisfied that a
great deal of money has to be raised by mite-boxes, official
subscriptions, and bequests, in order for the churches to meet their
expenses; and they seldom beg in vain. Members of the congregations
carry on their shoulders the missions among the irreligious population
in large cities and the heathen of foreign lands, the expense of church
buildings, and of schools and hospitals belonging to the sect, and the
salaries of ministers. The theological faculties are likewise church
institutions, whether they are formally connected with universities or
not. There are to-day 154 such seminaries, and this number has for some
time remained almost unchanged. In 1870 there were only 80, but there
were 142 in 1880, and 145 in 1890. It appears from the statistics that,
of the present 154, only 21 have more than a hundred students, while
twelve have less than ten students. The total number of students was
8,009, and of teachers 994. The property of these theological seminaries
amounts to thirty-four million dollars, and more than a million was
given them during the last year.
The pedagogical function of the church is not limited to the
Sunday-school for children and the seminaries for ministers; but in
these two branches it has a monopoly, while in all other fields, from
the elementary school to the university, it competes with secular
institutions, or more exactly, it complements their work. We have
already shown how important a rôle private initiative plays in the
educational life of the United States, and it is only natural that such
private institutions should be welcomed by a part of the public when
they bear the sanction of one or another religious faith. There are
grammar schools, high schools, colleges, and universities of the most
diverse sects to meet this need; and their relation to religion itself
is equally diverse, and ranges from a very close to a very loose one.
Boston College, for instance, is an excellent Catholic institution
consisting of a high school and college under the instruction of
Jesuits, in which the education is at every moment strongly sectarian.
The university of Chicago, on the other hand, is nominally a Baptist
institution: yet nobody asks whether a professor who is to be appointed
is a Baptist; no student is conscious of its Baptist character, and no
lectures give any indication thereof. Its Baptist quality is limited to
the statute that the president of the university and two-thirds of the
board of overseers must be Baptists, as was the founder of the
institution.
While among the larger universities, Harvard, Columbia, Johns Hopkins,
Princeton, Cornell, and all state universities, are officially
independent of any sect, Yale is, for instance, said to be
Congregational, although neither teachers nor students trouble
themselves with the question. The smaller colleges have a much more
truly sectarian character; and there is no doubt that this is approved
by large circles, especially in the Middle and Western States. The
sectarian colleges outnumber the non-sectarian; and, to take a random
example, we may note that in the state of Michigan the State University
at Ann Arbor is independent of sect, while Adrian College is Methodist,
Albion College Episcopalian, Alma College Presbyterian, Detroit College
Catholic, Hilledale College Baptist, Hope College Reformed, and Olivet
College is Congregational. This inclination, especially noticeable in
country districts, to a religious education however so slightly
coloured, shows how deeply religion pervades the whole people.
To follow the separate religions and their diverse religious offshoots
cannot be our purpose; we must be content with a few superficial
outlines. There is no really new religious thought to record; an
American religion has, so far, not appeared. The history of the church
in the New World has only to report how European religions have grown
under new conditions. The apparently new associations are only
unimportant variations. Some enthusiasts have appeared from time to time
to preach a new religion with original distortions of the moral or
social sense, but they have expressed no moral yearning of the time, and
have remained without any deep influence. This rests in good part on the
conservative nature of Americans. They snatch enthusiastically at the
newest improvements and the most modern reform, but it must be a reform
and not a revolution. The historical continuity must be preserved. The
Mormons, the Spiritualists, and the adherents of Christian Science
might, with some propriety, be called pure American sects; but although
all three of these excite much public curiosity, they have no importance
among those religions which are making the civilization of the present
moment.
The religions of the United States which have the most communicants are
the Methodist, Baptist, and Roman Catholic. The religions, however,
which have had the most important influence on culture are the
Congregational, Episcopalian, Presbyterian, and Unitarian. Besides
these, there are the Lutheran, the Reformed, and the Jewish churches;
all the other denominations are small and uninfluential. The churches
which we have named can be more or less distinguished by their locality,
although they are represented in almost every state. The
Congregationalists and Unitarians are specially numerous in the New
England States, the Episcopalians and Presbyterians in New York and
Pennsylvania, while the Methodists are specially strong in the South,
the Baptists in the Middle West, and the Catholics all through the East.
Such special demarcation rests firstly on the relation of the churches
to different races which have settled in different places; the
Episcopalians and Congregationalists are mainly English, the
Presbyterians are Scotch, the Catholics are Irish and South German, the
Lutherans are North German and Scandinavian, the Reformed Church is
German and Dutch, and Methodism has spread widely among the negroes.
In close connection herewith are the social distinctions. The Methodist,
Baptist, and Catholic religions are specially religions of the masses;
the others are more exclusive. It is especially those religions of the
lower classes which yield to every tendency toward breaking up into
sects; only Catholicism maintains a firm unity in the New as in the Old
World.
The old Calvinistic faith which was brought over by the Puritans to the
New England colonies still lives in the Congregational Church. This
church has played a greater political part than any other from the
colonial days, when no one could vote who was not a communicant, down to
the time when it took an active stand against slavery. Its expansion was
limited by an agreement with the Presbyterian Church; only since this
was given up, has it entered all the states of the Union. And yet to-day
there are in Massachusetts almost 700 Congregational church buildings,
and 400 in the small State of Connecticut; but only 300 in the State of
New York, 100 in Pennsylvania, a few in the West, and still fewer in the
South.
As in the case of all churches, the proportion of the population
belonging to this church can only be approximately given. Since the
official census may ask no questions concerning religion, we have to
rely on the figures of the church itself, which regularly refer to the
actual members in the congregations. Now in these Evangelical, Catholic,
and Jewish congregations, the conditions for membership are so unlike
that the figures are not directly comparable; and even among the
Evangelical churches, it is clearly false to find the total number of
souls allied to that church, as this is usually found, by multiplying
the number of communicants by some average figure, like 3.5. In view of
the social and ethnical differences between these churches, the
percentage of children, for instance, is very different. It may be said
then, although with caution, that the Congregational population embraces
about two million souls; but their importance in the shaping of American
civilization has greatly exceeded their numerical representation. The
spirit of this church has lent ethical seriousness and a vigorous sense
of duty to the whole nation. It has founded the first schools, and is
responsible for the independence of the country.
It is even more necessary to weigh the votes and not to count them, when
we speak of the optimistic daughter church of austere Calvinism, the
Unitarian. Probably not more than one quarter of a million persons
belong to the Unitarian Church; but the influence of these people on
literature and life, science and philosophy, has been incomparable. The
church has existed officially since 1815, although the new faith began
to spread much earlier within the Calvinistic Church itself. There is
nothing theologically new here, since the main teachings, that the
Trinity is only a dogma, that God is One, and that Christ was an
exemplary man but not God, go back, of course, to the fourth century.
These are the Arian ideas, which have also been held in Europe in times
past. The significance of the American Trinitarian controversy does not
lie in the province of theology. In a sense, the Unitarian Church has no
binding belief, but aims only to be an influence of ever-increasing
faith in God, which welcomes investigation, advance, and difference of
individual thought, within the unity of a moral and ideal view of the
universe.
Thus it has been an entirely natural development, for example, for the
theological faculty of Harvard University to go over from the
Congregational to the Unitarian faith as early as the second decade of
the last century, and in recent times to become non-sectarian and
broadly Christian, filling its professional chairs with theologians of
the most diverse denominations. The significance for civilization does
not lie in the Unitarian view of God, but in its anti-Calvinistic
conception of man. This church says that man is not naturally sinful,
but, being the image of God, is naturally good, and that the salvation
of his soul is not determined by a predestination of divine grace, but
by his own right-willing. Channing was the Unitarian leader, and the
thinkers and writers in the middle of the century followed in his
footsteps. Their work was a source of moral optimism. This confession
has necessarily remained small by reason of its radical theology, which
too little satisfies the imagination of the profoundly pious; but the
Unitarian ideas have come everywhere into the worship of aristocratic
churches.
The Episcopalian faith, which is English Protestantism, came to the
shores of the New World even earlier than the faith of Calvin. The
English faith was organized in Virginia as early as 1607, and for a long
time no other faith was even tolerated; and in the middle colonies the
English High Church spread rapidly under the influence of many
missionaries from England. The secession of the colonies from the mother
country was destined to bring a check, but soon after the war the
Episcopalian Church of America organized itself independently, and grew
steadily through the East. It has to-day seventy-five bishops. It is
governed by a council which meets every three years in two divisions—an
upper, which consists of bishops, and a lower, composed of delegates
sent from the various dioceses. The diocese elects its own bishop. Their
creed is, to all intents and purposes, identical with that of the Church
of England, and some two million souls are affiliated with this church.
Also the Presbyterian Church of the New World goes back to the
seventeenth century; it was first definitely organized in the beginning
of the eighteenth, under Scotch and Irish influences. It stands on a
Calvinistic foundation, but the church government is the distinguishing
feature; at its head are the elders, the Presbyters. Twelve different
sects have grown out of this church—as, for instance, the Cumberland
Presbyterians, who broke away in a popular religious movement in 1810;
other sects had started already on European soil—as, for instance, the
Presbyterian Church of Wales, which is perpetuated in America. The
Presbyterian population amounts to about four million souls.
The Methodist and Baptist congregations are much larger. Methodism comes
from that great movement, at the University of Oxford in 1729, of John
and Charles Wesley, whose Sacred Club, with its Biblical bigotry, was,
on account of its methodical precision, ridiculed as the Methodist Club;
and the nickname was accepted and held to. It was a question of bringing
the English church closer to the heart, of profoundly moving every
individual and instilling a deeper piety in the people. In order to
preach the word of God, it needed neither professional theologians nor
church buildings; laymen were to be the preachers, and the canopy of
heaven their church. The movement began to spread in America in 1766,
and while in England it remained for a longer time nominally within the
established church, American Methodism took very early a different
course from Episcopalianism.