Diary in America, Series One

Miss Martineau may well inquire, “How does the existing state of religion accord with the promise of its birth? In a country which professes to every man the pursuit of happiness in his own way, what is the state of his liberty in the most private and individual of all concerns?”

Referring to religious instruction, Mr Carey in his work attempts to prove the great superiority of religious instruction and church accommodation in America, as compared with those matters in this country. He draws his conclusions from the number of churches built and provided for the population in each. Like most others of his conclusions, they are drawn from false premises: he might just as well argue upon the number of horses in each country, from the number of horse-ponds he might happen to count in each. In the first place, the size of the churches must be considered, and their ability to accommodate the population; and on this point, the question is greatly in favour of England; for, with the exception of the cities and large towns, the churches scattered about the hamlets and large towns are small even to ridicule, built of clap-boards, and so light that, if on wheels, two pair of English post-horses would trot them away, to meet the minister.

Mr Carey also finds fault with the sites of our churches as being unfortunate in consequence of the change of population. There is some truth in this remark: but our churches being built of brick and stone cannot be so easily removed; and it happens that the sites of the majority of the American churches are equally unfortunate, not as in our case, from the population having left them, but from the population not having come to them. You may pass in one day a dozen towns having not above twenty or thirty private houses, although you will invariably find in each an hotel, a bank, and churches of two or three denominations, built as a speculation, either by those who hold the ground lots or by those who have settled there, and as an inducement to others to come and settle. The churches, as Mr Carey states, exist, but the congregations have not arrived; while you may, at other times, pass over many miles without finding a place of worship for the spare population. I have no hesitation in asserting, not only that our 12,000 churches and cathedrals will hold a larger number of people than the 20,000 stated by Mr Carey to be erected in America, but that as many people, (taking into consideration the difference of the population,) go to our 12,000, as to the 20,000 in the United States.

Neither is Mr Carey correct when he would insinuate that the attention given by the people in America to religious accommodation is greater than with us. It is true, that more churches, such as they are, are built in America; but paying an average of 12,000 pounds for a church built of brick or stone in England, is a very different thing from paying 12,000 dollars for a clap-board and shingle affair in America, and which, compared with those of brick and mortar, are there in the proportion of ten to one. And further, the comparative value of church building in America is very much lowered by the circumstance that they are compelled to multiply them, to provide for the immense variety of creeds which exist under the voluntary system. When people in a community are all of one creed, one church is sufficient; but if they are of different persuasions, they must, as they do in America, divide the one large church into four little ones. It is not fair, therefore, for Mr Carey to count churches.

(Note. “We know also that large sums are expended annually for the building of churches or places of worship, which in cities cost from 10,000 to 100,000 dollars each; and in the country from 500 to 5,000 dollars.”—Voice from America, by an American Gentleman. (What must be the size of a church which costs 500 dollars?))

But, although I will not admit the conclusions drawn from Mr Carey’s premises, nor that, as he would attempt to prove, the Americans are a more religious people than the English, I am not only ready, but anxious to do justice to the really religious portion of its inhabitants. I believe that in no other country is there more zeal shown by its various ministers, zeal even to the sacrifice of life; that no country sends out more zealous missionaries; that no country has more societies for the diffusion of the gospel and that in no other country in the world are larger sums subscribed for the furtherance of those praise-worthy objects as in the Eastern States of America. I admit all this, and admit it with pleasure; for I know it to be a fact: I only regret to add that in no other country are such strenuous exertions so incessantly required to stem the torrent of atheism and infidelity, which so universally exists in this. Indeed this very zeal, so ardent on the part of the ministers, and so aided by the well-disposed of the laity, proves that what I have just now asserted is, unfortunately, but too true.

It is not my intention to comment upon the numerous sects, and the varieties of worship practised in the United States. The Episcopal church is small in proportion to the others, and as far as I can ascertain, although it may increase its members with the increase of population, it is not likely to make any vigorous or successful stand against the other sects. The two churches most congenial to the American feelings and institutions are the Presbyterian and Congregationalist.

“The Congregationalists answer to the Independents of England and are sympathetically, and to a great extent, lineally descendants of the Puritans.”—Voice from America, p. 62.

They may, indeed, in opposition to the hierarchy of the Episcopal, be considered as Republican churches; and admitting that many errors have crept into the established church from its too intimate union with the State, I think it will be proved that, in rejecting its errors and the domination of the mitre, the seceders have fallen into still greater evils; and have, for the latter, substituted a despotism to which every thing, even religion itself, must in America succumb.

In a republic, or democracy, the people will rule in every thing: in the Congregational church they rule as deacons; in the Presbyterian as elders. Affairs are litigated and decided in committees and councils, and thus is the pastoral office deprived of its primitive and legitimate influence, and the ministers are tyrannised over by the laity, in the most absurd and most unjustifiable manner. If the minister does not submit to their decisions, if he asserts his right as a minister to preach the word according to his reading of it, he is arraigned and dismissed. In short, although sent for to instruct the people, he must consent to be instructed by them, or surrender up his trust. Thus do the ministers lose all their dignity and become the slaves of the congregation, who give them their choice, either to read the Scriptures according to their reading, or to go and starve. I was once canvassing this question with an American, who pronounced that the laity were quite right, and that it was the duty of the minister to preach as his congregation wished. His argument was this:—“If I send to Manchester for any article to be manufactured, I expect it to be made exactly after the pattern given; if not, I will not take it: so it is with the minister: he must find goods exactly suited to his customers, or expect them to be left on his hands!”

And it really would appear as if such were the general opinion in the United States. Mr Colton, an American minister, who turned from the Presbyterian to the Episcopal church, in his “Reasons for Episcopacy,” makes the following remarks:—

(I must request the reader’s forbearance at the extreme length of the quotations, but I cannot well avoid making them. Whatever weight my opinion, as the opinion of an observant traveller may have, it must naturally be much increased if supported, as it always is when opportunity offers, by American authority.)

Speaking of the deacons and elders of their churches, he says—“They may be honest and good men, and very pious: but in most churches they are men of little intellectual culture; and the less they have, the more confident and unbending are they in their opinions. If a minister travels an inch beyond the circle of their vision in theology, or startles them with a new idea in his interpretation of Scripture, it is not unlikely that their suspicions of his orthodoxy will be awakened. If he does any thing out of the common course, he is an innovator. If, from the multiplicity of his cares and engagements, he is now and then obliged to preach an old sermon, or does not visit so much as might be expected, he is lazy. For these and for other delinquencies, as adjudged by these associates, it becomes their conscientious duty to admonish him. He who is appointed to supervise the flock, is himself supervised. ‘I have a charge to give you,’ said a deacon to me once, the first time and the moment I was introduced to him, after I had preached one or two Sabbaths in the place, and, as it happened, it was the first word he said after we shook hands, adding, ‘I often give charges to ministers.’ I knew him to be an important man, and the first in the church; but as I had nothing at stake there that depended on his favour, I could not resist the temptation of replying to him in view of his consequential airs, ‘You may use your discretion, sir, in this particular instance; but I can tell you that ministers are sometimes overcharged.’ However, I did not escape.

“The American clergy are the most backward and timid class in the society in which they live; self-exiled from the great moral question of the time; the least informed with true knowledge—the least efficient in virtuous action—the least conscious of that Christian and republican freedom which, as the native atmosphere of piety and holiness, it is their prime duty to cherish and diffuse,”—Miss Martineau. I quote this paragraph to contradict it. The American clergy are, in the mass, equal, if not superior, to any in the world: they have to struggle with difficulties almost insurmountable, (as I shall substantiate) and worthily do they perform their tasks.

“It seems to be a principle in Presbyterian and Congregational churches, that the minister must be overlooked by the elders and deacons; and if he does not quietly submit to their rule, his condition will be uncomfortable. He may also expect visitations from women to instruct him in his duty; at least, they will contrive to convey to him their opinions. It is said of Dr Bellamy, of Bethlehem, Connecticut, who was eminently a peace-maker, and was always sent for by all the churches in the country around, or a great distance, to settle their difficulties, that having just returned from one of these errands, and put up his horse, another message of the same kind came from another quarter—‘And what is the matter?’ said the Doctor to the messenger. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘Deacon has—’ ‘Has—that’s enough—There never is a difficulty in a church, but some old deacon is at the bottom of it.’

“Unquestionably, it is proper, wise, and prudent, for every minister to watch and consult the popular opinion around him, in relation to himself, his preaching, and his conduct. But, if a minister is worthy to be the pastor of a people, he is also worthy of some confidence, and ought to receive deference. In his own proper work he may be helped, he may be sustained, but he cannot be instructed by his people; he cannot in general be instructed by the wisest of them. Respectful and kind hints from competent persons he may receive, and should court—he may profit by them. But, if he is a man fit for his place, he should retain that honour that will leave him scope, and inspire him with courage to act a manly part. A Christian pastor can never fulfil his office, and attain its highest ends, without being free to act among his people according to the light of his conscience and his best discretion. To have elders and deacons to rule over him, is to be a slave—is not to be a man. The responsibilities, cares, burdens, and labours of the pastoral office are enough, without being impeded and oppressed by such anxieties as these. In the early history of New England, a non-conformist minister, from the old country, is represented to have said, after a little experience on this side of the water, ‘I left England to get rid of my lords the bishops; but here I find in their place my lords, the brethren and sisters; save me from the latter, and let me have the former.’

“It has actually happened—within a few years—in New England, and I believe in other parts of the country, that there has been a system of lay visitation of the clergy for the purpose of counselling, admonishing, and urging them up to their duty; and that these self-commissioned apostles, two and two, have gone from town to town, and from district to district of the country, making inquisition at the mouth of common rumour, and by such methods as might be convenient, into the conduct and fidelity of clergymen whom they never saw; and, having exhausted their means of information, have made their way into the closets of their adopted protégés; to advise, admonish, pray with, and for them; according as they might need. Having fulfilled their office, they have renewed their march, ‘staff and script,’ in a straightforward way, to the next parish, in the assigned round of their visitations, to enact the same scene, and so on till their work was done.

“Of course, they were variously received; though, for the most part, I believe they have been treated civilly, and their title to this enterprise not openly disputed. There has been an unaccountable submission to things of this kind, proving indeed that the ministers thus visited were not quite manly enough; or that a public opinion, authorising these transactions, had obtained too extensive a sway in their own connexion, and among their people, to be resisted. By many, doubtless, it was regarded as one of the hopeful symptoms of this age of religious experiment.

“I have heard of one reception of these lay apostles, which may not be unworthy of record. One pair of them—for they went forth ‘two and two,’ and thus far were conformed to scripture—both of them mechanics, and one a shoemaker, having abandoned their calling to engage in this enterprise, came upon a subject who was not well disposed to recognise their commission. They began to talk with him: ‘We have come to stir you up.’—‘How is the shoe business in your city?’ said the clergyman to the shoemaker, who was the speaker: for it was a city from which they came. The shoemaker looked vacant, and stared at the question, as if he thought it not very pertinent to his errand; and, after a little pause, proceeded in the discharge of his office: ‘We have come to give your church a shaking.’—‘Is the market for shoes good?’ said the clergyman. Abashed at this apparent obliquity, the shoemaker paused again; and again went on in like manner. To which the clergyman: ‘Your business is at a stand, sir, I presume; I suppose you have nothing to do.’ And so the dialogue went on; the shoemaker confining himself to his duty, and the clergyman talking only of shoes: in varied and constantly-shifting colloquy, till the perverse and wicked pertinacity of the latter discouraged the former; and the shoemaker and his brother took up their hats, ‘to shake off the dust of their feet,’ and turn away to a more hopeful subject. The clergyman bowed them very civilly out of doors, expressing his wish, as they departed, that the shoe business might soon revive. Of course, these lay apostles, in this instance, were horror-struck; and it cannot be supposed they were much inclined to leave their blessing behind them.

“I believe I do not mistake in expressing the conviction that there are hundreds, not to say thousands, of the Presbyterian and Congregational clergy, who will sympathise with me thoroughly in these strictures on the encroachments of the laity upon pastoral prerogative; who groan under it; who feel that it ought to be rebuked and corrected, but despair of it; and who know that their usefulness is abridged by it to an account that cannot be estimated.”

(The Reverend Mr Reid mentions a very whimsical instance of the interference of the laity in every possible way. He says, that being at church one Sabbath, there was one reverend old man, certainly a leader among them, who literally, as the preacher went on with his sermon, kept up a sort of recitation with him as, for instance, the preacher continuing his sermon—

The duty here inferred is, to deny ourselves—

Elder. And enable us to do it.

Preacher. It supposes that the carnal mind is enmity against God—

Elder. Ah, indeed, Lord, it is.

Preacher. The very reverse of what God would have us to be—

Elder. God Almighty knows it’s true.

Preacher. How necessary, then, that God should call upon us to renounce everything—

Elder. God help us!

Preacher. Is it necessary for me to say more?

Elder. No—oh—no!

Preacher. Have I not said enough?

Elder. Oh, yes, quite enough.

Preacher. I rejoice that God calls me to give up every thing—

Elder. Yes, Lord, I would let it all go.

Preacher. You must give up all—

Elder. Yes—all.

Preacher. Your pride—

Elder. My pride.

Preacher. Your envy.

Elder. My envy.

Preacher. Your covetousness—

Elder. My covetousness.

Preacher. Your anger.

Elder. Yes—my anger.

Preacher. Sinner, then; how awful is your condition!

Elder. How awful!

Preacher. What reason for all to examine themselves.

Elder. Lord, help us to search our hearts!

Preacher. Could you have more motives? I have done.

Elder. Thank God.—Thank God for his holy word. Amen.)

“It can hardly be denied, I think, that the prevalence of this spirit has greatly increased within a few years, and become a great and alarming evil. This increase is owing, no doubt, to the influence and new practices introduced into the religious world by a certain class of ministers, who have lately risen and taken upon themselves to rebuke, and set down as unfaithful, all other ministers who do not conform to their new ways, or sustain them in their extravagant career.”

The interference, I may say the tyranny, of the laity over the ministers of these democratic churches is, however, of still more serious consequences to those who accept such arduous and repulsive duty. It is a well-known fact, that there is a species of bronchitis, or affection of the lungs, peculiar to the ministers in the United States, arising from their excessive labours in their vocation. I have already observed, that the zeal of the minister is even unto death: the observations of Mr Colton fully bear me out in my assertion:—

“There is another serious evil in the Presbyterian and Congregational denominations, which has attained to the consequence of an active and highly influential element in these communities. I refer to the excessive amount of labour that is demanded of the clergy, which is undermining their health, and sending scores to their graves every year, long before they ought to go there. It is a new state of things, it must be acknowledged, and might seem hopeful of good, that great labours and high devotion to the duties of the Christian ministry in our country will not only be tolerated, but are actually demanded and imperatively exacted. At first glance, it is a most grateful feature. But, when the particulars come to be inquired into, it will be found that the mind and health-destroying exactions now so extensively made on the energies of the American clergy, particularly on these two classes I am now considering, are attributable, almost entirely, to an appetite for certain novelties, which have been introduced within a few years, adding greatly to the amount of ministerial labour, without augmenting its efficiency, but rather detracting from it. Sermons and meetings without end, and in almost endless variety, are expected and demanded; and a proportionate demand is made on the intellect, resources, and physical energies of the preacher. He must be as much more interesting in his exercises, and exhibitions as the increased multiplicity of public religious occasions tend to pall on the appetite of hearers. Protracted meetings from day to day, and often from week to week, are making demands upon ministers, which no human power can sustain and, where these are dispensed with, it is often necessary to introduce something tantamount, in other forms, to satisfy the suggestions and wishes of persons so influential as to render it imprudent not to attempt to gratify them. In the soberest congregations, throughout nearly all parts of the land, these importunate, and, without unkindness, I am disposed to add, morbid minds are to be found, often in considerable numbers. Almost everywhere, in order to maintain their ground and satisfy the taste of the times, labours are demanded of ministers in these two denominations enough to kill any man in a short period. It is as if Satan had come into the world in the form of an angel of light, seeming to be urging on a good work, but pushing it so hard as to destroy the labourers by over exaction.

“The wasting energies—the enfeebled, ruined health—the frequent premature deaths—the failing of ministers in the Presbyterian and Congregational connexions from these causes all over the country, almost as soon as they have begun to work—all which is too manifest not to be seen, which everybody feels that takes any interest in this subject, are principally, and with few exceptions, owing to the unnecessary exorbitant demands on their intellectual powers, their moral and physical energies. And the worst of it is, we not only have no indemnification for this amazing, immense sacrifice, by a real improvement of the state of religion, but the public mind is vitiated: an unnatural appetite for spurious excitements, all tending to fanaticism, and not a little of it the essence of fanaticism, is created and nourished. The interests of religion in the land are actually thrown backward. It is a fever, a disease which nothing but time, pains, and a change of system can cure. A great body of the most talented, best educated, most zealous, most pious, and purest Christian ministers in the country—not to disparage any others—a body which in all respects will bear an advantageous comparison with any of their class in the world, is threatened to be enervated, to become sickly, to have their minds wasted, and their lives sacrificed out of season, and with real loss to the public, by the very means which prostrates them, even though we should leave out of the reckoning the premature end to which they are brought. This spectacle, at this moment before the eyes of the wide community, is enough to fill the mind of an enlightened Christian with dismay. I have myself been thrown ten years out of the stated use of the ministry by this very course, and may, therefore, be entitled to feel and to speak on the subject. And when I see my brethren fallen and falling around me, like the slain in battle, the plains of our land literally covered with these unfortunate victims, I am constrained to express a most earnest desire, that some adequate remedy may be applied.”

It is no matter of surprise, then, that I heard the ministers at the camp meeting complain of the excess of their labours, and the difficulty of obtaining young men to enter the church; (The Rev. Mr Reid observes, speaking of the Congregationalists, “When I rose to support his resolution, as requested, all were generously attentive. At the close I alluded emphatically to one fact in the report, which was, That out of 4,500 churches there were 2,000 not only void of educated pastors, but void of pastors, and I insisted that, literally, they ought not to sleep on such a state of things.”—Reid and Matheson’s Tour) who, indeed, unless actuated by a holy zeal, would submit to such a life of degradation? what man of intellect and education could submit to be schooled by shoemakers and mechanics, to live poor, and at the mercy of tyrants, and drop down dead like the jaded and over laden beast from excess of fatigue and exertion? Let me again quote the same author: