Religion
I had often heard it observed before I visited America, that one of the
great blessings of its constitution was the absence of a national
religion, the country being thus exonerated from all obligation of
supporting the clergy; those only contributing to do so whose
principles led them to it. My residence in the country has shewn me
that a religious tyranny may be exerted very effectually without the
aid of the government, in a way much more oppressive than the paying of
tithe, and without obtaining any of the salutary decorum, which I
presume no one will deny is the result of an established mode of
worship.
As it was impossible to remain many weeks in the country without being
struck with the strange anomalies produced by its religious system, my
early notes contain many observations on the subject; but as nearly the
same scenes recurred in every part of the country, I state them here,
not as belonging to the west alone, but to the whole Union, the same
cause producing the same effect every where.
The whole people appear to be divided into an almost endless variety of
religious factions, and I was told, that to be well received in
society, it was necessary to declare yourself as belonging to some one
of these. Let your acknowledged belief be what it may, you are said to
be _not a Christian_, unless you attach yourself to a particular
congregation. Besides the broad and well-known distinctions of
Episcopalian, Catholic, Presbyterian, Calvinist, Baptist, Quaker,
Sweden-borgian, Universalist, Dunker, &c. &c. &c.; there are
innumerable others springing out of these, each of which assumes a
church government of its own; of this, the most intriguing and factious
individual is invariably the head; and in order, as it should seem, to
shew a reason for this separation, each congregation invests itself
with some queer variety of external observance that has the melancholy
effect of exposing _all_ religious ceremonies to contempt.
It is impossible, in witnessing all these unseemly vagaries, not to
recognise the advantages of an established church as a sort of
headquarters for quiet unpresuming Christians, who are contented to
serve faithfully, without insisting upon having each a little separate
banner, embroidered with a device of their own imagining.
The Catholics alone appear exempt from the fury of division and
sub-division that has seized every other persuasion. Having the Pope
for their common head, regulates, I presume, their movements, and
prevents the outrageous display of individual whim which every other
sect is permitted.
I had the pleasure of being introduced to the Catholic bishop of
Cincinnati, and have never known in any country a priest of a character
and bearing more truly apostolic. He was an American, but I should
never have discovered it from his pronunciation or manner. He received
his education partly in England, and partly in France. His manners were
highly polished; his piety active and sincere, and infinitely more mild
and tolerant than that of the factious Sectarians who form the great
majority of the American priesthood.
I believe I am sufficiently tolerant; but this does not prevent my
seeing that the object of all religious observances is better obtained,
when the government of the church is confided to the wisdom and
experience of the most venerated among the people, than when it is
placed in the hands of every tinker and tailor who chooses to claim a
share in it. Nor is this the only evil attending the want of a national
religion, supported by the State. As there is no legal and fixed
provision for the clergy, it is hardly surprising that their services
are confined to those who can pay them. The vehement expressions of
insane or hypocritical zeal, such as were exhibited during “the
Revival,” can but ill atone for the want of village worship, any more
than the eternal talk of the admirable and unequalled government, can
atone for the continual contempt of social order. Church and State
hobble along, side by side, notwithstanding their boasted independence.
Almost every man you meet will tell you, that he is occupied in labours
most abundant for the good of his country; and almost every woman will
tell you, that besides those things that are within (her house) she has
coming upon her daily the care of all the churches. Yet spite of this
universal attention to the government, its laws are half asleep; and
spite of the old women and their Dorcas societies, atheism is awake and
thriving.
In the smaller cities and towns prayer-meetings take the place of
almost all other amusements; but as the thinly scattered population of
most villages can give no parties, and pay no priests, they contrive to
marry, christen, and bury without them. A stranger taking up his
residence in any city in America must think the natives the most
religious people upon earth; but if chance lead him among her western
villages, he will rarely find either churches or chapels, prayer or
preacher; except, indeed, at that most terrific saturnalia, “a
camp-meeting.” I was much struck with the answer of a poor woman, whom
I saw ironing on a Sunday. “Do you make no difference in your
occupations on a Sunday?” I said. “I beant a Christian, Ma’am; we have
got no opportunity,” was the reply. It occurred to me, that in a
country where “all men are equal,” the government would be guilty of no
great crime, did it so far interfere as to give them all _an
opportunity_ of becoming Christians if they wished it. But should the
federal government dare to propose building a church, and endowing it,
in some village that has never heard “the bringing home of bell and
burial,” it is perfectly certain that not only the sovereign state
where such an abomination was proposed, would rush into the Congress to
resent the odious interference, but that all the other states would
join the clamour, and such an intermeddling administration would run
great risk of impeachment and degradation.
Where there is a church-government so constituted as to deserve human
respect, I believe it will always be found to receive it, even from
those who may not assent to the dogma of its creed; and where such
respect exists, it produces a decorum in manners and language often
found wanting where it does not. Sectarians will not venture to
rhapsodise, nor infidels to scoff, in the common intercourse of
society. Both are injurious to the cause of rational religion, and to
check both must be advantageous.
It is certainly possible that some of the fanciful variations upon the
ancient creeds of the Christian Church, with which transatlantic
religionists amuse themselves, might inspire morbid imaginations in
Europe as well as in America; but before they can disturb the solemn
harmony HERE they must prelude by a defiance, not only to common sense,
but what is infinitely more appalling, to common usage. They must at
once rank themselves with the low and the illiterate, for only such
prefer the eloquence of the tub to that of the pulpit. The aristocracy
must ever, as a body, belong to the established Church, and it is but a
small proportion of the influential classes who would be willing to
allow that they do not belong to the aristocracy. That such feelings
influence the professions of men it were ignorance or hypocrisy to
deny; and that nation is wise who knows how to turn even such feelings
into a wholesome stream of popular influence.
As a specimen of the tone in which religion is mixed in the ordinary
intercourse of society, I will transcribe the notes I took of a
conversation, at which I was present, at Cincinnati; I wrote them
immediately after the conversation took place.
Dr. A.
“I wish, Mrs. M., that you would explain to me what a revival is. I
hear it talked of all over the city, and I know it means something
about Jesus Christ and religion; but that is all I know, will you
instruct me farther?”
Mrs. M.
“I expect, Dr. A., that you want to laugh at me. But that makes no
difference. I am firm in my principles, and I fear no one’s laughter.”
Dr. A.
“Well, but what is a revival?”
Mrs. M.
“It is difficult, very difficult, to make those see who have no light;
to make those understand whose souls are darkened. A revival means just
an elegant kindling of the spirit; it is brought about to the Lord’s
people by the hands of his saints, and it means salvation in the
highest.”
Dr. A.
“But what is it the people mean by talking of feeling the revival? and
waiting in spirit for the revival? and the extacy of the revival?”
Mrs. M.
“Oh Doctor! I am afraid that you are too far gone astray to understand
all that. It is a glorious assurance, a whispering of the everlasting
covenant, it is the bleating of the lamb, it is the welcome of the
shepherd, it is the essence of love, it is the fullness of glory, it is
being in Jesus, it is Jesus being in us, it is taking the Holy Ghost
into our bosoms, it is sitting ourselves down by God, it is being
called to the high places, it is eating, and drinking, and sleeping in
the Lord, it is becoming a lion in the faith, it is being lowly and
meek, and kissing the hand that smites, it is being mighty and
powerful, and scorning reproof, it is—”
Dr. A.
“Thank you, Mrs. M., I feel quite satisfied; and I think I understand a
revival now almost as well as you do yourself.”
Mrs. A.
“My! Where can you have learnt all that stuff, Mrs. M.?”
Mrs. M.
“How benighted you are! From the holy book, from the Word of the Lord,
from the Holy Ghost, and Jesus Christ themselves.”
Mrs. A.
“It does seem so droll to me, to hear you talk of “the Word of the
Lord.” Why, I have been brought up to look upon the Bible as nothing
better than an old newspaper.”
Mrs. O.
“Surely you only say this for the sake of hearing what Mrs. M. will say
in return—you do not mean it?”
Mrs. A.
“La, yes! to be sure I do.”
Dr. A.
“I profess that I by no means wish my wife to read all she might find
there.—What says the Colonel, Mrs. M.?”
Mrs. M.
“As to that, I never stop to ask him. I tell him every day that I
believe in Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and that it is his duty to
believe in them too, and then my conscience is clear, and I don’t care
what he believes. Really, I have no notion of one’s husband interfering
in such matters.”
Dr. A.
“You are quite right. I am sure I give my wife leave to believe just
what she likes; but she is a good woman, and does not abuse the
liberty; for she believes nothing.”
It was not once, nor twice, nor thrice, but many many times, during my
residence in America, that I was present when subjects which custom as
well as principle had taught me to consider as fitter for the closet
than the tea-table, were thus lightly discussed. I hardly know whether
I was more startled at first hearing, in little dainty namby pamby
tones, a profession of Atheism over a teacup, or at having my attention
called from a Johnny cake, to a rhapsody on election and the second
birth.
But, notwithstanding this revolting license, persecution exists to a
degree unknown, I believe, in our well-ordered land since the days of
Cromwell. I had the following anecdote from a gentleman perfectly well
acquainted with the circumstances. A tailor sold a suit of clothes to a
sailor a few moments before he sailed, which was on a Sunday morning.
The corporation of New York prosecuted the tailor, and he was
convicted, and sentenced to a fine greatly beyond his means to pay. Mr.
F., a lawyer of New York, defended him with much eloquence, but in
vain. His powerful speech, however, was not without effect, for it
raised him such a host of Presbyterian enemies as sufficed to destroy
his practice. Nor was this all: his nephew was at the time preparing
for the bar, and soon after the above circumstance occurred his
certificates were presented, and refused, with this declaration, “that
no man of the name and family of F. should be admitted.” I have met
this young man in society; he is a person of very considerable talent,
and being thus cruelly robbed of his profession, has become the editor
of a newspaper.