e other, it has been impossible to distinguish
Baptists, Presbyterians, or Congregationalists from each other. All have
been there, and no one has betrayed by the least shade of dogmatism
those self-styled profound divisions about which so much noise is made.
I invite those still in doubt to look at the manner in which public
worship is established in the West: as soon as a few men have formed a
settlement, a missionary comes to visit them; no one inquires about his
denomination, for the Bible that he brings is the Bible of all, and the
salvation, through Christ, which he proclaims, is the faith of all. It
suffices, besides, to see this entire people, so restless, so laborious,
leaving its business on Sunday to occupy itself with the thoughts of
another life; it suffices to observe the unanimous uprising of the
public conscience at the rumor of an attack directed against the Gospel,
to perceive that unity subsists beneath lamentable divisions, and that
individual conviction creates the most active of all cohesive powers in
the heart of human communities; I know of no cement that equals it.
If individual convictions are a strong bond, they are also an
inexhaustible source of life. It is easy to assure ourselves of this by
a brief survey of the proofs of Christian liberality which are displayed
in the United States. Here, there is no legal charity, no aid to be
expected from the government, either for the support of churches, or for
that of the sick and poor; the _voluntary system_ must suffice for all.
And, in fact, it does suffice for all.
What is the first thing in question? To collect thirty million francs
annually for the payment of the clergy. The thirty millions are
furnished: poor and rich, all give eagerly, and without compulsion. The
next thing in question is to provide for the construction of new
churches; now, it is necessary to finish not less than three of these
daily, for the clearing of the forests advances with rapid strides, and
a thousand churches, at least, are built every year. The majority of
these churches are doubtless composed of beams laid one upon another,
then painted white, or left of the natural color, and surmounted by a
bell; they are simple and inexpensive, and, in the infant villages, the
streets of which are still blocked up by trees left standing, the place,
serving at once for a church and a school, where the people gather round
an itinerant preacher, is not decorated with much sumpt
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