eralizations which American historians use every now and again to describe a movement whose complexity eludes precision. The term usually includes monumental changes such as the break-up of Calvinism, an event which, like the thawing of northern rivers in the spring, heralded a new burst of creativity, energy and warmth. The Awakening is also understood as a conservative assertion of a new mode of religious authority by ministers who, fearful of losing their traditional role in New England society, tried to tame the rising democracy. It provided new channels not only for social control, but also for social service which some scholars have said was but a manifestation of the former. It burned in white-hot emotionalism in Kentucky, spreading along the frontier like a prairie fire, sweeping even beyond the backfires set by cautious seaboard ecclesiastics who had hoped to control it. It was an expansion of religious feeling unknown in American history. To be able to say so much about the Awakening might be taken as evidence that it is not such a vague term after all. Yet there are too many unsettling things about the literature relating to it to conclude that present interpretations are sufficiently comprehensive. The difficulties are a mixture of too much emphasis upon the truly intricate and challenging intellectual problems of the New England theology, and a certain awesome impressionability in regard to the non-rational phenomena of revivalism in the burned-over districts of New York and Vermont, and the campmeeting grounds of the South and West. In fact, it is emotionalism and devout piety, heart over reason, commitment as opposed to disinterestedness which characterizes the revival for many scholars. And it is its impact upon Congregationalist-Presbyterian dogmas of inability which invites the scrutiny of intellectual historians who quite rightly