Crèvecoeur was a deist (a philosophy that emphasized human reason and observation of nature and downplayed divine revelation), and that perspective is clear in James’s remarks on religion throughout the Letters. In particular, James sees religious indifference as characteristic of Americans. He explains that when emigrants arrive in America, they’re often fervent members of a specific Christian denomination, but that the more they intermingle with neighbors from different sects, the less religiously distinctive they become. While newcomers might try to settle near others of like beliefs, most don’t succeed in staying isolated from other groups—and anyway, farming is such a demanding life that most people don’t have time to proselytize or persecute others who believe differently. Many continue to attend church, but the more denominational identities weaken, the less they are passed down through subsequent generations. In fact, when James faces the possibility that his family will escape the war by living among the Indians, he takes comfort in the fact that they don’t need a specific church or set of doctrines in order to worship—they just need to believe that God is “the Father of all men” no matter what he is called. This attitude takes James’s admiration for religious indifference to a surprising extreme.
Readers should notice that the author’s deist outlook shapes his opinions about who is a good or bad Christian, and even which details he chooses to emphasize in his religious survey of the American colonies. It wouldn’t be hard to find examples of colonial Americans who weren’t religiously indifferent, and plenty of Christians valued their distinctive teachings much more highly than Crèvecoeur would think appropriate or choose to highlight. Still, the Letters’ overwhelming view is that when religious identities and theologies weaken and fade in the American melting pot, the country benefits in the long run.
Religion in America ThemeTracker
Religion in America Quotes in Letters from an American Farmer
Here are no aristocratical families, no courts, no kings, no bishops, no ecclesiastical dominion, […] no great manufactures employing thousands, no great refinements of luxury. The rich and the poor are not so far removed from each other as they are in Europe. Some few towns excepted, we are all tillers of the earth, from Nova Scotia to West Florida.
Their children will therefore grow up less zealous and more indifferent in matters of religion than their parents. The foolish vanity or, rather, the fury of making proselytes is unknown here; they have no time, the seasons call for all their attention, and thus in a few years this mixed neighbourhood will exhibit a strange religious medley that will be neither pure Catholicism nor pure Calvinism.
[F]ortunately you will find at Nantucket neither idle drones, voluptuous devotees, ranting enthusiasts, nor sour demagogues. I wish I had it in my power to send the most persecuting bigot I could find […] to the whale fisheries; in less than three or four years you would find him a much more tractable man and therefore a better Christian.