J. G. Percival.
[RELIGIOUS CHARLATANRY.]
NUMBER TWO.
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has taken her original and strongest posts; the Edwardian metaphysical school has had its day; Hopkinsianism is out of date; and at this moment, a system y'clept New Divinity is in full rage!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.