Colonial America

by Richard Middleton, Anne Lombard

The Moravians, in contrast, affected to believe in St. Paul's dictum about going out to preach to the world. Another difference was that they claimed to be part of the Lutheran Church, though in reality they were much closer to the Quaker movement. Despite their outward stance, their numbers were small even in Pennsylvania, where they comprised perhaps 2,000 believers. Their main proselytizing success proved to be with the Native American peoples, where the simplicity of their message about the love of Christ and their readiness to interpret Indian dreams made them welcome. Their most important mission was at the Delaware village of Shamokin, near the forks of the Susquehanna River.

  Obviously this was a theologically diverse population. Yet the bitter sectarian disputes of the seventeenth century had waned, at least for the time being. The defeat of the Catholic James II and the accession of the Protestant William and Mary, it has been suggested, helped to promote a new sense of pride among Britons that they were part of a Protestant nation.4 The Toleration Act of 1689 guaranteed dissenting Protestants the right to worship without interference by the state. While the Puritans on both sides of the Atlantic had been forced to compromise and guarantee religious toleration, New Englanders took as much pride as any Britons in being the subjects of a Protestant monarch. Congregationalist ministers like John Wise explained to their flocks that while the Crown might govern secular affairs it was still the “New England Churches” who governed men's souls. Indeed the New England churches believed they were as quintessentially English as any church in existence. “[T]here is in the Constitution of our Church Government more of the English Civil Government in it, and it has a better Complexion to suit the true English Spirit, than is in the English Church.”

  None of this new sense of common purpose implied a loss of commitment by church leaders to their individual denominations. In fact, many churches worried during the early decades of the eighteenth century that their flocks were sinking into irreligion and godlessness. An inquiry at the end of Queen Anne's War in Connecticut concluded that the spirit of the original covenant had “departed from us” and called for an inquiry into the state of religion.

  Historians now believe that no serious declension in religious belief was taking place.5 Nevertheless, attempts continued to be made to enhance the appeal of the churches by relaxing membership requirements and adopting a more rational approach. Paradoxically these attempts at modernization were to cost the major churches dear. As sermons became ever more theoretical and philosophical in content, they provided opportunities for the Baptists to pick up converts from denominations which had lost their fire. The Baptists, as we have seen, had first arrived in the 1650s, preaching the need for adult baptism and attacking the idea of state-supported churches. Their simple style was beginning to win them many converts, especially in the South, where their ministers courageously journeyed to the furthest habitations. By the late colonial period they had perhaps 300 congregations.

  The most persuasive challenge to the major churches came from the phenomenon known subsequently as the Great Awakening, which began in a number of different places on both sides of the Atlantic as individual ministers, mainly of a Calvinist variety, sought to revive religious feeling through evangelical methods.6 Their efforts involved placing greater emphasis on the four Gospels with their message of glad tidings and salvation, stressing the need for individual religious experience rather than formal acknowledgment of established doctrine. The Calvinist churches, with their greater concern about heaven, hell, and the millennium, were perhaps more open to such appeals. Accordingly, one of the first churches in the colonies to adopt this method was Theodore Frelinghuysen of the Dutch Reformed church in the Raritan Valley in 1726. His success in rousing his congregation was emulated by other ministers, notably the venerable Solomon Stoddard, who was still seeking to recreate the First Church of Christ at Northampton, Massachusetts. In New Jersey the evangelical style of preaching was first adopted by the Presbyterian William Tennent and his son Gilbert, a close associate of Frelinghuysen. They in turn inspired Jonathan Edwards, Stoddard's successor at Northampton, to deliver a series of sermons aimed at stopping young people from “night walking, and frequenting the tavern” and other “lewd practices.” This was in 1735. Two years later Edwards claimed in his published account, Faithful Narrative, that 500 persons had been saved.

  The movement's most important boost came with the arrival of George Whitefield, an Englishman who had already achieved fame in Britain as an extraordinarily effective preacher and one of the founders of Methodism. Methodists were generally Anglicans who, like many denominations, found that their church had lost its vitality in the face of abstract theology and the defense of established privileges. They preached a new evangelical message that all men could be saved if they turned to God. In some respects the Great Awakening was a return to the old belief in salvation through faith and God's saving grace, though without the concept of an exclusive elect. This was in stark contrast to most churches which veered implicitly towards a brand of Arminianism that was linked to the concept of free will and the belief that humanity could save itself.

  All this the Great Awakening rejected, seeking instead to center religion once more on the heart rather than the head, on faith rather than reason, and on grace rather than good works. Even more important than its theology was the movement's style; its proponents reached out to the mass of the population by preaching in fields in what became the first mass revivals of modern times.

  Whitefield himself came to British North America in 1739 on the first of seven tours. Beginning in Savannah, Georgia, he proceeded up the coast to Philadelphia before returning via the backcountry to Charleston. In August 1740 he traveled to New England, after drawing crowds of many thousands all along his route. In Philadelphia he impressed even the cynical Benjamin Franklin with the power of his delivery, the simpleness of his message, and his ability to be heard.

  Whitefield's greatest triumphs, however, came in New England, where his itinerant style of preaching was as yet hardly permitted. When pulpits were denied him, he took to the fields, followed by huge crowds. Everywhere he subjected his listeners to the certainty of hellfire and eternal damnation unless their repentance was immediate and complete. Thousands wept for their sins.

  Whitefield and his imitators posed a serious challenge to the established churches. The speed of their conversions and their indifference to denominational boundaries inevitably caused dispute. Many ministers, recognizing the revivalists' appeal, opened their doors in the belief that these techniques would help rekindle the religious zeal of their own congregations. Others, notably Charles Chauncey of Boston's First Church, rejected this approach, feeling that such enthusiasm was of little value in awakening real spirituality and that only a proper appreciation of Christ could bring an individual real grace. Among the doubters, the need for caution was soon reinforced by the antics of James Davenport, who urged his followers to give away their worldly goods, including much of their clothing, and follow him dancing and singing through the streets of Boston and other New England towns.

  The result was an internal split in many churches, notably among the Presbyterians of the middle colonies and the Congregationalists of New England, where both denominations established rival congregations in many towns. Among the Presbyterians divisions were especially bitter after Gilbert Tennent published his pamphlet The Danger of an Unconverted Ministry, which attacked the conservatives. The two groups came to be known as the New and Old Lights, representing the radical and conservative wings respectively. Some of these rifts healed after a few years; others remained. Many New Lights subsequently found that the Baptist Church met their desire for a more informal, less institutionalized religion.

  The dilemma posed by the twin challenges of revivalism and orthodoxy is aptly illustrated by the career of Jonathan Edwards himself. As we have seen, Edwards, like many ministers, tried to adapt the new enthusiasm to revitalize the existing Congregational Church. The theme of his most famous sermon, deliver
ed in 1741, was “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God,” during which individual members of the congregation cried out “What shall I do to be saved?” and “Oh, I am going to hell.” However, Edwards soon came to distrust the idea of simple conversion, emphasizing instead the old Calvinist view that God could not be bargained with. Repentance had to be deep and sustained. Being of the elect was still the key to salvation. He increasingly felt that the revivals could only create a better environment in which God's purpose might be revealed. Significantly, this attempt to return to the old standards cost Edwards his pulpit in 1750.

  Some historians believe that there were social and economic factors behind these divisions, noting that the supporters of the Great Awakening tended to be drawn from the young, the new commercial classes, and the poorer elements of the population, notably artisans, small farmers, and traders. Opponents, on the other hand, were largely drawn from the governing elite and merchant aristocracy. All three of the former desired to challenge the existing religious order, the exclusiveness of the political establishment, or the restrictive nature of the economy. Thus in Connecticut, the New Lights were strong in the growing commercial center of New London and recently settled towns of the interior. The Old Lights in contrast were dominant in the older towns of Hartford and New Haven. However, the evidence is by no means conclusive; for while most New Lights wanted to break the existing religious mold, they were by no means in favor of political reform or the development of a market economy with its trend towards consumerism.7

  The area least affected by the Great Awakening in its early stages was the South, partly because the Anglican Church dominated the tidewater and partly because the backcountry was so isolated. The Anglicans were afraid of the impact that the new style of religion might have on their slaves. During the 1750s, however, Baptists like Shubal Stearns traveled through the piedmont preaching the message of salvation, so that by the end of the decade revivals were still common there long after they had ceased elsewhere. The uneven impact of the Great Awakening has led some scholars to question whether the revivals should be described as part of a single phenomenon (even though its supporters believed it was a clear manifestation of God's work).8

  Finally, some historians have suggested a link between the Great Awakening and the American Revolution, arguing that revivalism destroyed the old deference for established institutions and made it easier for the colonists to break free from Britain politically and intellectually. Furthermore, the Calvinist emphasis on an elect and the popularity of millennial thought reinforced the colonial view that they were a special people, like the children of Israel, who would be released from their bondage. Lastly, it has been argued, the Awakening provided an opportunity for an intercolonial exchange of ideas, thus helping further the development of a shared Anglo-American identity.

  Certainly, the emphasis on personal salvation strengthened those elements in colonial culture which placed the individual ahead of the group and paved the way for a more democratic culture in the nineteenth century. Equally important was the revivalists' adoption of the open-air mass meeting, where not much was required for religious topics to be supplanted by political and social ones. It was this dangerous implication of revival meetings which made so many Old Lights wary of the new movement.

  Nevertheless, most scholars downplay the importance of the links. They stress the time lag between the Great Awakening and the Revolution, especially in New England and the middle colonies. Another point is the fragmented nature of the movement and the fact that it had an international dimension: it was not specifically a North American phenomenon. Evangelical revivals swept across Europe, especially England and Scotland, during the same decades. Moreover, if Calvinist theology and millenarianism were so strong, they are curiously absent from the rhetoric of the leaders of the Revolution (although there is evidence of a strongly millennial current in popular culture which helped to build support for independence.) Finally, the idea that the New Lights provided the core leadership of the Revolution is not borne out by the subsequent careers of many Old Lights, notably Charles Chauncey, who took the lead in the controversy about a North American episcopacy and remained a strong supporter of the patriot cause.9

  A more recent view suggests that the Awakening strengthened the sense of British national identity which was already emerging in the British North American colonies, rather than making them feel more distinctively American. One of its long-term consequences was to further break down sectarian barriers as people from diverse denominations became swept up in the revivals together. Rather than aiming for doctrinal purity, the evangelicals often spoke to their listeners simply as Christians. The new preaching styles they popularized became influential in many denominations. The Awakening also helped to stimulate the growth of the nonestablished denominations of the Baptists and of Methodism, both of which were more welcoming of the poor and the illiterate than most of the older sects. Thus it seems likely that the Awakening contributed to a sense among many of the British colonists that they were part of a chosen nation of Protestant believers committed to God's purposes. That nation was clearly British.

  Document 18

  Benjamin Franklin on George Whitefield, reprinted in Kenneth Silverman, ed., Benjamin Franklin: The Autobiography and Other Writings (London, 1986), 116–19

  This description of Whitefield's preaching techniques comes from Benjamin Franklin, who admired Whitefield's ministry without being fully persuaded by his message. Questions to consider: What impact would attendance at one of Whitefield's sermons be likely to have had on a rural person who had spent his whole life living in the same small village? Why do you think Whitefield was so effective?

  In 1739 arrived among us from England the Reverend Mr Whitefield who had made himself remarkable there as an itinerant preacher. He was at first permitted to preach in some of our churches; but the clergy taking a dislike to him, soon refused him their pulpits, and he was obliged to preach in the fields. The multitudes of all sects and denominations that attended his sermons were enormous, and it was a matter of speculation to me, who was one of the number, to observe the extraordinary influence of his oratory on his hearers and how much they admired and respected him, notwithstanding his common abuse of them, by assuring they were naturally “half beasts and half devils.” It was wonderful to see the change soon made in the manners of our inhabitants, from being thoughtless or indifferent about religion, it seemed as if all the world were growing religious, so that one could not walk through the streets in an evening without hearing psalms sung in different families of every street …

  I happened soon after to attend one of his sermons, in the course of which I perceived he intended to finish with a collection and silently resolved he should get nothing from me. I had in my pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded, I began to soften and concluded to give the coppers. Another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of that and determined me to give the silver; and he finished so admirably that I emptied my pocket wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all …

  Some of Mr Whitefield's enemies affected to suppose that he would apply these collections to his own private emolument, but I who was intimately acquainted with him (being employed in printing his sermons and journals, etc.) never had the least suspicion of his integrity, but am to this day decidedly of opinion that he was in all his conduct a perfectly honest man.

  2 Education

  The United States has a long tradition of providing free schooling for its citizens and was the first nation to do so. The origins of this achievement can be traced back to the colonial period.

  We have seen that the first educational establishments, notably those in New England, were motivated by religious considerations. Persons wishing to be saved must be conversant with the word of God and therefore required the ability to read the Bible. Another consideration was the need for a trained ministry.

  To these ends schools and colleges were
established from an early stage in New England. A Massachusetts law of 1647, the first to regulate education, stated that if parents neglected to instruct their children, the selectmen could apprentice them so that they could “read and understand the principles of religion and the capital laws of the country.” Connecticut passed a similar law in 1650.

  In smaller communities most instruction was provided in “dame” schools, where the teacher was a female member of the church. Only the larger towns could afford a qualified master to run a grammar school, and these were restricted to boys. Nevertheless, by 1700 in New England some 70 percent of men and 45 percent of women could read and write. The figures continued to climb throughout the colonial period as communities became more settled, but literacy remained essentially a religious rather than a secular quest. This is reflected in the principal book used by children after 1686, the New England Primer, which, apart from the alphabet and a list of syllables, contained mostly hymns, prayers, biblical stories, and accounts of Protestant martyrs. Not until the 1760s were materials like Tom Thumb's Song Book and Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe used. The value of education in advancing a person's skills and livelihood was not generally accepted until after the Revolution.10

  Outside New England, schooling was more haphazard, on account of different attitudes among the other churches. Most left the attainment of salvation to guidance by the minister rather than personal study by the individual. Such elitist views were especially prevalent in the Anglican Church. The rector's sermons, services, and parish visits were thought to be sufficient guidance for the congregation, though education was seen as a legitimate part of the missionary process. Those least concerned with education were the Baptists and Quakers, who relied on inspiration and spontaneity, for which neither formal training nor literacy was necessary, though this attitude started to change once these sects became more institutionalized.