OURS is the most religious country on the face of the earth. There are more churches to the square mile of city and village area than any other part of the world, not excepting the grand old city of Rome. They may not be all of the same denomination, but their attendants worship the same God. They may quarrel a great deal about points of faith, but on essentials they are, if not exactly one, so closely related that there is room for any amount of hope. About baptism and regeneration and sanctification and adoption and perhaps damnation they may differ frightfully; but all of them base their belief upon the Apostles’ Creed, and look for their spiritual inspiration to the law of the Old and New Testament, preferably that of the four gospels.

Religion is a life, whatever else it may or may not be. No person who makes any pretence of being religious declines to admit that his creed is the basis of the life which he would like to lead, whether or not he may succeed in making his practice conform to his principles.

That religion consists in proper life with a view to a life to come, or at least that it is so regarded, is proved by the custom which becomes more and more prevalent of judging men and women according to their religious professions.

There was a time when, if a man assented to a given form of faith, his life might be almost anything he pleased; and some of the most active “Defenders of the Faith,” as they styled themselves, whether they were Catholics, Protestants, Trinitarians or Unitarians, have been found among men who would nowadays not be considered fit to introduce into respectable society. The time when such things were has departed, and shows not the faintest sign of ever returning again. To-day a man’s religious profession is regarded as an assertion by himself of what he would have his life, and what he proposes that his life shall be judged by.

A cheering sign of the earnestness and sincerity of religion in modern times is that there is very little proselyting now. People who smile cheerfully at one another during six days of the week, do not glare and frown at one another on Sunday, as they used to do when meeting on their ways to their respective churches, and from the manners of members of different denominations meeting in business or polite society, no one could imagine or discern to what particular creed any one of those people subscribed. The Methodist, the Baptist, the Catholic, the Episcopalian, meet each other cheerily in business and in society, their families intermarry, they have business relations with each other, and no one in indorsing or cashing a business man’s note ever thinks of asking to what particular church he may belong.

In a number of country towns this fraternal feeling has been largely stimulated and strengthened by what are called “union meetings,” in which all the members of all the congregations in the town unite at appointed dates in general services of prayer and worship. Occasionally the pastor of some church in the vicinity may object to taking part in such services, but pastors in congregations are frequently like Congressmen and the people—the followers are ahead of the leader. Only a little while ago a Catholic priest of high repute in his own denomination, and held in high esteem by the entire community in which he was known, ascended the platform at a western camp-meeting, in which denominations differing from his own had united, and made a most earnest undenominational and spiritual address to the entire audience before him.

Revival meetings, however they may be laughed at by the more refined and fastidious of church people, have had the effect in late years of attracting a great many thousands of people toward religious life. The most noted of these were conducted, as every one knows, by Messrs. Moody and Sankey, two men who were never regularly ordained as clergymen by any authority whatever—they are simple laymen and undenominational workers. Yet these men never went to any city or town to begin their peculiar system of work until all, or nearly all, the pastors of churches had united in calling them and had promised to assist to the best of their ability. No effort was made by these men to make converts for any denomination whatever. Their sole purpose was to cause men and women to change their manner of life from that of the ordinary every-day selfishness of the unregenerate man and to compel him to recognize an over-ruling Providence who should also be the guide of his daily life in every respect. Mr. Moody, however “shaky” he may have been according to any theological test, was earnest and sincere enough to say to all the clerical fraternity of any town in which he worked, that he came only to sow seed and that it was the business of others to reap the harvest, and that he cared not into whose flock the lambs were led, so long as they were rescued from the wilderness. The Moody and Sankey movement is open to a great deal of criticism, and probably no one has regarded it with more jealous eye than newspaper editors, yet the editorial fraternity throughout the country has been compelled to admit that the agitation begun by these men had a marked influence for good on whatever community it was exerted.

Such a movement would have been utterly impossible fifty years ago, perhaps twenty-five years ago. To attempt to lead men to God without outlining a road which traversed a great many other roads said to lead in the same direction would have united against the leader all the churches in the vicinity.

There are no fights between denominations now-a-days. A church may fight within its own borders as furiously as a gang of worried dogs, but for the occupants of several different pulpits in any given town or in any portion of a great city to call each other bad names and intimate that the followers of any one but the speaker would find themselves after death in a most uncomfortable and irremediable condition of soul and body is no longer the case. The principal feeling now excited by large success in any particular congregation is one of emulation. If one church holds a successful mission or revival meeting or series of special efforts, and succeeds in persuading a number of people to enroll themselves formally among any band of persons professing to be Christians, the only competitive result that can be seen or heard of is an effort of the neighboring churches to go and do likewise.

Why, it is no longer necessary for churches to be built solely by those who are members of the congregation which is endeavoring to erect the edifice. A subscription for the building fund of a church of any denomination is passed around among people of all faiths and no faith, and money is subscribed as freely and as unreservedly as if the effort was being made simply for the relief of some individual in embarrassment. It has come to be considered in the United States that a church, no matter of what denomination, is a good thing to have in the neighborhood, and the more churches the better. Any man of public spirit or Christian feeling who has any money to spare can be depended upon to subscribe to the erection of a church of any denomination, the Mormon church always excepted.

All this is immensely encouraging to men who regard religion as the greatest moral influence of life, as well as a promise of things less seen yet more important in which the majority of people believe more or less blindly. The change has come about through the different pulpit method that has come in vogue within a very few years. Men have learned to look upon religion of any kind as infinitely preferable to no religion at all. No man who keeps his eyes open has failed to see changes, such as can be accounted for by no other theory, as to the possibilities of human nature, suddenly and quietly achieved through the practice of religious life as indicated by some particular creed. So far as changes in the lives of individuals are concerned, creed seems to make very little difference. Within the lines of all denominations men can be found who, according to every rule and precedent of human nature, should be dishonest, indolent, vile, and brutal, yet who have suddenly become respectable and in all things visible entirely decent. Any attempts to break down religion, as such, are stoutly combated by the entire intelligent portion of the community, barring the few dilettanti who are not certain about anything, and least of all about whatever will make themselves amenable to the moral law. Colonel Bob Ingersoll can draw a large crowd in a large city, but never in his life has he had as large an audience as can be found any Sunday in any one of twenty churches in the city of New York, and were he to enter some of our smaller towns he would find himself with the same proportion of hearers. Most religious people who think—and most of them do think—have periods of doubt on a great many topics which in the earlier portion of their new life seemed to them essentials. Nevertheless they have learned by experience not to change their faith, much less to abandon it, because of some things which they do not understand. Since religion has become a life instead of a mere belief, all men who sincerely practice it have learned that there is a great unknown of human experience beyond which their own lives cannot reach except at certain times and under certain influences, and to abandon what they doubt would mean to them to also forego the fruits of what they already know and believe.

There is not the slightest fear that the United States will become an irreligious nation. Some church pews may be empty, some men may go very seldom to service, or confession, but that most men think and feel the influence of religion upon the young and upon the family circle is too well known and established to admit of any doubt. The heads of families who are most careless about their own personal lives are often most earnest in urging upon their families all the ministrations of whatever churches they may chance to attend. It matters no longer from what denomination is selected the clergyman who shall ask grace at a large public dinner, or open a solemn public gathering with prayer, or as to what may be the creed of the spiritual teacher who may be asked to take part in deliberations upon grave moral interests of the community.

All this is immensely encouraging, and promises lasting good to the nation.