A Prophet's Reward: Dynamics of Religious Exchange

by William Sims Bainbridge

National Science Foundation*

In T. G. Jellen (ed.), Sacred Canopies, Sacred Markets.
Lanham, Maryland: Rowman-Littlefield.

*The views expressed in this essay do not necessarily represent
the views of the National Science Foundation or the United States.

"A squirrel turning in a cage -
Can he escape? At least the forces
That led him to such desperate courses
Are known as in no earlier age."
    From "Fundamentals of Sociology"
    by George C. Homans
     "He that receiveth a prophet
in the name of a prophet
shall receive a prophet's reward."
    Matthew 10:41

In his presidential address to the American Sociological Association, my mentor George Homans (1964) condemned Durkheim's idea that social facts existed independently from the actions of individuals. Homans named his famous presidential speech, "Bringing Men Back In," meaning that he intended to restore living, acting human beings to the center of sociological analysis. However, he explicitly drew his psychological insights from the narrow behaviorist school led by his friend B. F. Skinner (1938; Homans, 1974, 1984). The Stark-Bainbridge theory of religion, through its emphasis on the exchange of explanations, gives far greater emphasis to both cognition and communication. We bring back the factor that Homans explicitly exiled from his doctrinaire behaviorism, namely the mind.

As Stark and I defined it (Stark and Bainbridge, 1987: 29), "The mind is the set of human functions that directs the action of a person." It is "a complex but finite information-processing system that functions to identify problems and attempt solutions to them." And, "Human problems are recurrent situations that require investments (costs) to obtain rewards." The mind is the combination of hardware (brain) plus software (culture) that develops and acts on more-or-less general strategies to gain rewards and avoid costs. Here I will consider some of the strategies humans may employ to obtain rewards in the context of religious exchange.

I will do so not through abstract analysis of philosophical principles, nor through surveying the growing literature on the connection between brain and mind coming from cognitive neuroscience (Gazzaniga, 1995). Rather, I will employ a method that is not usually applied in behaviorism or the rational choice perspective, namely psychohistory (Asimov, 1951; Erickon, 1958; Elms, 1981). This will be a social psychohistory of an entire family, not of an isolated individual, and it will employ a slightly expanded version of the principles of the new exchange paradigm in social science of religion, not the dubious psychoanalytic paradigm.


Social science has recently emphasized the ways that religions compete with each other for adherents in a marketplace for the exchange of supernatural rewards, as individual consumers select the denominations or sects that best meet their needs (Stark, Iannaccone and Finke, 1996; Stark and Finke, 2000; cf. Bainbridge, 1995c). More than forty years ago, Karl Polanyi (1957) argued that exchange is only one of three processes that can provide unity and stability to an economic system, the other two being reciprocity and redistribution. According to Polanyi, exchange generates competitive markets, but the other two economic processes do not. Reciprocity typically takes place in or around a kinship system, and it should be very significant for religion, because religious observance is typically family-based and religious organizations are often constructed on the model of a family. Redistribution takes resources from those who have them, whether by custom or physical force, and it delivers them to the state or to organizations in alliance with the state, such as established churches. Because this essay focuses on a family in its dealings with individuals and voluntary organizations, both exchange and reciprocity will loom large here, but redistribution will not.

Under the heading of exchange, there are at least two competing theoretical paradigms, rational choice theory and learning theory. With only slight simplification, we can say that learning theory was introduced to sociology from behavioral psychology by George Homans, whereas his rival James Coleman was responsible for bringing rational choice theory in from economics (Coleman, 1990; Baron and Hannan, 1994; cf. Homans, 1967:38). As early as 1985, Gartrell and Shannon were writing about religion from an avowed rational choice perspective and suggesting that work by Stark and myself (1979, 1980) belonged to the same tradition. When Collins (1993) called A Theory of Religion "a leading accomplishment of the rational choice school," my only qualm was that I thought it belonged instead to learning theory.

In a sense, rational choice theory is forward-looking, modeling individual action as the result of calculations about future costs and rewards. In contrast, learning theory is backward-looking, explaining current behavior in terms of past schedules of reinforcement. The first axiom of the Stark-Bainbridge (1987:27) theory states: "Human perception and action take place through time, from the past into the future." The theory defines these anchoring concepts in terms of human action and cognition: "The past consists of the universe of conditions which can be known but not influenced." "The future consists of the universe of conditions which can be influenced but not known."

Paradoxically, humans imagine the future as a kind of subjective past, contemplating the results of future actions as if they had already occurred (Schutz, 1945, 1972). Thorough-going behaviorism, of the sort Homans admired, excluded imagination from consideration, whereas rational choice theory at least postulates that humans engage in mental calculations of the possible benefits and costs that would be entailed in some future action. Thus, rational choice theory seems to give greater scope for "mind" than does behaviorism-based learning theory.

Learning theory incorporates a theory of mind, however, as soon as it begins to model the learning process. For example, Michael Macy (1990, 1991) has employed computer simulations akin to neural networks to show that learning theory can handle the classic problem of the evolution of cooperation (cf. Miller and Dollard 1941; Sidowski et al. 1956; Kelley et al. 1962). Homans himself admired the computer simulation work of Robert Axelrod (1984) on the evolution of cooperation. In the early 1980s I undertook a research program to explore how abstract conceptualization might be modeled mechanistically in learning theory, ultimately leading to a neural network program that simulated faith in God (Bainbridge, 1995b).

Computer simulation links to the theory of religion in two ways through the fundamental computing concept: algorithm. First, the term algorithm is synonymous with explanation, as it is used in the theory of religion. Standard dictionaries define algorithm as a procedure for solving a problem in a finite number of steps, and the theory defines an explanation as a "statement about how and why rewards may be obtained and costs are incurred" (Stark and Bainbridge, 1987: 57). That is, explanations are algorithms that provide humans with instructions on how to solve their problems.

Second, a formal scientific theory is a deductive series of statements, that lead from a set of well-established principles to the proposition that the theory seeks to explain (Homans, 1967; Stark and Bainbridge, 1987:13-14). That is, a formal, deductive theory is itself composed of algorithms, each of which reaches the solution of an intellectual problem in a finite number of steps. But a computer program is also a system of algorithms. Thus, a properly designed computer simulation of social behavior may be structurally isomorphic with and functionally equivalent to a theoretical argument. Given certain initial conditions and proper design, both the computer program and the theoretical argument will grind out the desired result. Or, one may say that a properly designed computer program can be an effective dynamic way of representing a theoretical argument that can test its coherence and increase its rigor.

My simplest learning theory computer simulation modeled the behavior of a single mouse in a T-maze (Bainbridge, 1986:22-29). Then, in a simulation of three human beings interacting with each other, I began exploring the consequences of algorithms that included but discounted events in the distant past, thus giving the people rather exploratory personalities exhibiting lack of commitment (Bainbridge, 1987:69-77).

Two more complex neural network simulations employing hierarchical neural nets modeled individual human beings interacting with each other in pursuit of various rewards, developing the mechanistic equivalent of conceptual categorization schemes to guide them in accepting or rejecting trades with other people having various combinations of traits. One of these studies simulated Gordon Allport's (1954) cognitive effort theory of ethnic prejudice (Bainbridge, 1995a), and the other explored the logic of the Stark-Bainbridge (1987) exchange theory of religion (Bainbridge, 1987:88-101; 1995b).

These studies were thoroughly reductionist, using utterly mechanistic processes to model two modes of human thought that might seem very subtle: ethnic prejudice and religious faith. Although they violate the behaviorist ban on looking inside the human mind, the computer programs are totally transparent, and it is easy at any point to inspect the contents of all the memory registers. In both studies, the simulated humans develop categorization schemes for describing exchange partners, and in both it is possible for the simulated people to postulate beings that do not actually exist within the rules of the game. That is, they can develop not only false stereotypes of fellow simulated people but also belief in supernatural beings. Perhaps this study proves there is nothing sacred when it comes to computer simulations, but I think instead it shows one does not need a soul to believe in God. However, faith does require emotions (Thoits, 1989).

Emotions and Relationships

When Homans first read the Stark-Bainbridge theory, he reminded me of the famous statement by the first-century satirical writer, Petronius: "Fear first brought gods into the world." William James (1902:89) contended: "The ancient saying that the first maker of the Gods was fear receives voluminous corroboration from every age of religious history; but none the less does religious history show the part which joy has evermore tended to play. Sometimes the joy has been primary; sometimes secondary, being the gladness of deliverance from the fear." Either way, religion seems rooted in emotion, and the primary dimension is our feeling about costs and rewards.

Sacred discourse frequently concerns feelings, from guilt to bliss, terror to awe, and longing to ecstasy. The Bible is eloquent in its depiction of human emotion, across the entire spectrum: Job 4:14: "Fear came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake." Job 38:7: "When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy." John 16:21: "A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world." 2 Corinthians 4:8: "We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair." Luke 13:28: "There shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrust out." And who could forget the comforting words of John 3:16, which testify that even the Lord has emotions: "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."

If religion elicits and shapes the meaning of emotions, surely the fundamental human feelings are shared by the higher animals, who are apparently incapable of religion. A purring cat must be experiencing bliss, and it can inspire fear in pigeons and mice. The tender care lavished upon their babies by birds and mammals is behaviorally indistinguishable from human love. Thus, emotion is deeply rooted in our animal biology, even if our recently-evolved cognitive abilities are required for religious belief. In addition, as Homans said, "...the laws of human learning have themselves evolved and maintained themselves genetically as one mechanism for helping humans to survive in their environment" (Homans, 1987:139-141; cf. Wilson, 1975:551).

Robert H. Frank (1988) has alerted rational choice researchers to the idea that emotions, whether in humans or higher animals, may partly have evolved to signal intentions to other individuals, and to force them to behave in desired ways. Thus with the human capacity for role playing, emotional expressions become moves in a game. This insight is as old as history, and Porter Abbott has analyzed the strategic use of emotion in The Portuguese Letters, a work of fiction published in 1669. From her bare room in a convent, a nun writes five letters to her former lover. Abbott (1984:74) argues that she expresses her feelings in accordance with a syllogism that she thinks will logically force him to love her again: "(1) All great love is greatly to be loved, (2) I love greatly, (3) therefore I am greatly to be loved." Jay Haley (1963, 1969) analyzed psychotherapy as a strategic interaction in which the therapist maneuvers the patient to take his or her emotional assumptions to their illogical extreme, and he said the crucifixion was the masterful sacrifice move made by Jesus Christ in a game where the human soul was the prize.

The strategic use of emotion featured in my own analysis of how Scientologists appear to believe they can attain a higher state of being called clear, and I have briefly considered the comparable states of sanctification in the Holiness tradition and satori in Zen Buddhism (Bainbridge and Stark, 1980; Bainbridge 1997). Like many birds and mammals, humans cry for parental attention, shriek in fear, and shout for help. Clearly, communication intended to cause another person to help us is deeply rooted in our biological inheritance, as well as in the psychology of childhood.

Humans sometimes become trapped in a pattern of emotionally intense help-seeking behavior when no help is in fact available, and this condition may be called neurosis, dependency, or depression. Perhaps this is most common for people with insoluble practical problems of ill health, poverty, lovelessness, or powerlessness. But the human capacity to imagine a better life, and the social demands that so often inspire shame and guilt, could force anyone into this vicious circle. The person invests so much energy in self-defeating obsessions to get help, that his or her life becomes significantly worse than it would otherwise be, and sometimes the person is even prevented from finding a real solution to the problems. Clear, sanctification, and satori are spiritualized conceptions of the psychological state of being free of such help-demanding and self-blaming obsessions.

Homans's classic, The Human Group, makes much of sentiment, a term that was meant to cover such murky concepts as: "sentiments of affection, affective content of sympathy and indulgence, intimate sympathy, respect, pride, antagonism, affective history, scorn, sentimental nostalgia" (Homans, 1950:37). Homans restricted sentiments to the feelings of one human being toward another. Much later work by Homans and others in his tradition conceptualizes social relationships as concrete bonds that are studied as structural elements in networks, or as stable patterns of interaction that readily can be observed. Yet we should recognize that social relationships are fundamentally based in emotions and images that exist only within human minds. Thus, many of the same challenges and opportunities associated with the sociology of emotions apply also to research on social relationships.

In this essay, emboldened by the essays Homans (e.g. 1981) published about his ancestors, I shall use data on my own ancestral family to develop a model of how religious emotions are embedded in social exchange. Fundamentally, reciprocity is the principle of obligation that links members of a family into an enduring relationship. Rooted in biological bonds, reciprocity at times resembles exchange, and of course nothing prevents members of a family from also being exchange partners. Alternatively, one could say that market exchange is merely a highly rationalized form of reciprocity that has outgrown the boundaries of the biological family.

Homans wrote about the exchange between two abstract individuals, Person and Other. Let us give them more human names, Lucy and George. Whether from biology, habits acquired in family-based reciprocity, or a history of mutually profitable exchanges, let us say that Lucy has developed a powerful relationship with George. Then she realizes that he is dying.

The Stark-Bainbridge theory immediately suggests that Lucy will be open to supernaturally-based compensators to comfort her in her loss. But what does it say about her obligations to George? What does she have to offer him in his greatest time of need? In fact, Lucy was George's sister, and he lay dying slowly and painfully of typhoid fever in the early 1860s, when medicine had not yet discovered a cure. There is considerable doubt how much religion can really compensate an individual for his or her own most severe losses. Because Lucy and George shared the same religious assumptions, however, she could feel that the prayers she gave him really did fulfill some of her obligation to help him.

At a first approximation, we can distinguish two kinds of religious compensation, primary and secondary.

Secondary compensation may be a major factor in the creation and maintenance of religious organizations, even though the literature on the subject has concentrated on primary compensation. If religious compensators actually do not satisfy sufferers' needs very well, they might still satisfy their exchange partners' obligations to provide assistance. I am not here asserting that religious primary compensation is ineffective, merely raising the theoretical point that it might be and suggesting we should examine scientifically how much of the success of religious organizations is due to secondary compensation.

If religious compensators can satisfy existing obligations, they may also make a person attractive as a prospective exchange partner. In other words, secondary compensation is an issue prior to the formation of exchange relationships, as well as afterward. Two of the propositions in the Stark-Bainbridge theory are relevant here: "Religious specialists promulgate norms, said to come from the gods, that increase the rewards flowing to the religious specialists" (Stark and Bainbridge, 1987:99). "Religious specialists share in the psychic rewards offered to the gods, for example: deference, honor, and adoration" (Stark and Bainbridge, 1987:101).

To appear to be a valuable exchange partner is beneficial to any individual. A person is attractive to the extent that other people will give rewards to that person without requiring the person immediately to reciprocate by giving them a reward of equal or greater value. People invest in someone they find attractive, in hopes that they will receive great rewards in the future, perhaps in the distant future or in some undefined context. Another way of look at this is to say that an attractive person receives rewards from others but can satisfy them in the immediate exchanges by providing compensators. Thus, a religious specialist may invest in activities to increase the apparent value of the compensators he or she has to offer.

In some societies, the individual may undergo costly spiritual ordeals, perhaps to forge a publicly acknowledged exchange relationship with a supernatural being. In a society with a highly professionalized clergy, the individual may invest in extensive formal training and attempt to create masterworks of the spirit (such as ritual performances, religious art, or sacred scholarship) that demonstrate that he or she has the requisite spiritual skill, sacred knowledge, or divine talent.

There are many different strategies for becoming an attractive exchange partner, and no cosmopolitan culture restricts itself to just one or two, even in the limited realm of religion. However, strategies are simply general explanations about how to attain certain goals, so they tend to be learned from other people as are most other valuable algorithms. Members of a family or other intimate social group will tend to share a particular strategy. To the extent that being a religious specialist is an inherited profession, therefore, supernatural strategies will tend to run in families. Members of such families who enter professions that are functionally similar to the clergy, will tend to carry over the family's religious strategy, with only such modifications as are required to make the strategy appear to fit the secular occupation.

General explanations about how to obtain highly desired rewards are difficult to evaluate. In a competitive cultural specialty, individuals and groups will often become committed to the wrong strategy, or at least to one that is suboptimal and can be defeated by other, more effective strategies. If an individual has invested heavily in one strategy, he is unlikely to be able to switch to a different one quickly and easily. Therefore, a person who has wholeheartedly adopted one particular strategy for becoming an attractive exchange partner will be relatively committed to it. Especially if the strategy is supernatural (which means that explanations are especially difficult to evaluate), he or she may respond to failure by exerting even more effort, rather than by backtracking and looking for a different strategy. Sometimes this can lead to success, if the person can innovate in strategy-specific ways that are attractive to other people, and if the person's amplified emotions are of a kind to arouse positive feelings in others. Arguably, this is the source of much religious charisma. In many cases, however, exaggeration of a poor strategy will lead to catastrophic failure, and what the individual considers to be religious inspiration will appear to other people as madness.

Becoming an attractive exchange partner through increasing the potency of the compensators one offers is a strategy that aggressively employs secondary compensation. If other people accept the compensators, it can be successful. But if other people ignore or reject the compensators, the individual may become trapped in isolated primary compensation. The dreams that one wished to sell to others may become a costly liability that prevent the individual from investing elsewhere, until the person's social capital has been exhausted. The cases described below illustrate how primary and secondary compensation may lead to extremely successful or unsuccessful social outcomes.

Biographical Outline

The father of Lucy and George, John Seaman, was born in 1804, and their mother, Cleora Augusta Stevens, in 1814. John and Cleora married in 1831 and settled in Cleveland, Ohio, which was then only a modest village of a thousand souls. John established a small shoe and boot factory, and after some difficult years the business prospered, providing footwear for such diverse customers as the mines on Lake Superior and the North Union Shaker community. In 1833, John and six other men formally established the First Baptist Church of Cleveland (Rouse, 1883).

When Cleora was a small child, she fell from a roof into the hot ashes of an open fire, suffering terrible burns to her back. For months, her mother tended her on a pillow, and for the rest of her life she carried deep scars from her neck to the base of her spine. Chronic physical complaints and this close brush with an early death may explain her lasting interest in experimental medical treatments, from water cures and food fads to electrified baths and color therapy, and she became a doctor of homeopathic medicine in 1860 (Ingham, 1893; L. Bainbridge, 1921).

John and Cleora had eight children: a baby who died before being named, Frances, George, Solomon ("Sollie"), Lucy Elizabeth, Charles, Cleora Augusta ("Cora Gussie"), and Walter. The custom was to give children the names of relatives, both living and dead, and name inheritance is one method by which people attempt to limit death's triumph. Frances was named after Cleora's deceased sister. Lucy carried the first names of both of her grandmothers. Brother Sollie was stuck with the imposing name Solomon because he had been born during a visit by his mother's brother, Presbyterian minister Solomon Stevens. In an attempt to cure his pathological shyness during his teens, his too-demanding name was changed to that of his father's brother, Henry. Cora Gussie was named after her mother.

Lucy attended Cleveland Female Seminary, a highly progressive school, then followed the advice of one of her teachers and went to Ipswich Female Seminary just north of Boston (cf. Guilford, 1890:74-75). Historically connected to Mount Holyoke College, Ipswich enjoyed a sterling reputation as a teachers college and finishing school that combined evangelical Christianity with high intellectual standards (Anonymous, 1839; Cole, 1940; Green, 1979).

Shortly after graduation, in May 1864, Lucy and her mother visited Washington, where they were recruited to Ohio Relief, one of many voluntary organizations operating under the aegis of the United States Sanitary Commission that were providing medical care along the battlefront in Virginia. Even this late in the war the government was still not fulfilling this duty adequately (L. Bainbridge, 1919; Maxwell, 1956). The Battle of the Wilderness had begun on the fifth of the month, and Union losses were running at ten thousand a week, so there was ample work tending shattered and dying men (Catton, 1965). Lucy served as a war nurse for a few weeks, at Aquia Creek, Port Royal, White House Landing, and City Point, enduring horrifying experiences and writing some of her observations for a newspaper.

At this time she met her future husband, William Folwell Bainbridge, who was a student minister attached to the Christian Commission which was distributing tracts and providing spiritual comfort to the soldiers (Shattuck, 1987). Nominally, the Sanitary Commission and the Christian Commission were partners with a well-defined division of labor between them, the former seeking to save men's lives, and the latter saving their souls. But often the two groups were rivals, as each competed for the resources to carry out its mission with less than total appreciation for the other's goals. This difference of approach was to remain between Lucy and William throughout their lives, with Lucy somewhat more ready to give people material and emotional rewards, while William offered them supernatural compensators.

William had graduated from Rochester University two years earlier, having worked his way through college, and was on summer break from Rochester Theological Seminary. This graduate school was open to students from all Protestant denominations, but the Baptist influence was strong, and candidates for admission were required to present certificates of membership in an evangelical church. Senior students served as "supplies" (temporary clergy) throughout the region, and graduates were much sought-after by churches in need of educated but fundamentalist ministers. The teachings stressed the divine authority of the Bible, but the training was highly intellectual. Students were instructed in the most convincing arguments for the existence of God and the best refutations for skeptical assaults on their tradition. Official doctrines included original sin, the second coming of Christ, and judgment after death of the righteous and the wicked (Anonymous, 1863). William's clergyman father, Samuel McMath Bainbridge, did not live to see his son ordained, nor to celebrate the Union victory, dying on the first day of 1865 and leaving his wife and several children in poverty (De Forest, 1950).

In July, William became the pastor of the First Baptist Church in Erie, Pennsylvania. He began taking the hundred-mile railroad to Cleveland to court Lucy, and in September 1866 they were married. The following year her father financed a grand tour that took them through England, France, Egypt, Palestine, Germany and Russia. Extensive travel in biblical lands provided William with invaluable material for sermons, and Lucy wrote a book-length account that was serialized in a newspaper.

In 1869, William took over the second-largest Baptist church in New England, Central Baptist in Providence. Lucy, being a woman, was never permitted to join the clergy formally, but the centennial history of the church called her "nevertheless a most efficient minister" who operated extensive programs for working girls from the nearby factories and other humanitarian efforts (Anderson, 1906:76-77), while her husband achieved some success recruiting new members. A daughter, named Cleora (the first name of Lucy's mother and of her dead sister) was born soon after. Dr. Cleora Seaman came from Cleveland to help Lucy with her namesake, but contracted "intermittent fever" and died. In February 1870 Lucy gave birth to her son, William Seaman Bainbridge (named after his father and Lucy's father), but baby Cleora died two months afterward of water on the brain. Lucy dealt with her grief partly by adopting a girl and naming her Helen Augusta (combining a dead cousin's first name with her dead mother's middle name). During a successful ten year pastorate, both Lucy and William published magazine and newspaper essays, and she became the first president of the state chapter of the Woman's Christian Temperance Union.

After Lucy's father died, her inheritance permitted William to resign his pastorate and embark on a two-year world tour of Christian missions to develop what he called "a science of missions." They took nine-year old "Willie" with them but left little Helen in Cleveland with William's mother Mary, who had escaped her poverty by marrying Lucy's father. The three traveled extensively through Japan, China, Burma and India as William gathered data by visiting hundreds of mission outposts including the Chinese station of his influential cousin John Nevius (J. Nevius, 1869; H. Nevius, 1869, 1895). At Bombay the family split up, Lucy taking Willie by boat through Egypt to Lebanon, and William reaching Lebanon by horseback after an extensive tour of the archeological ruins of Mesopotamia. A stop in Germany allowed them to attend the 1880 performance of the Oberammergau Passion Play.

In a wisteria-wreathed cottage on Narragansett Bay, William wrote two books about their trip around the world, Lucy produced one, and the family hoped to live on their royalties and on speakers' fees from lecture tours (W. F. Bainbridge, 1882a, 1882b; L. Bainbridge, 1882). Although filled with noble thoughts and keen observations in the sociology of missions, William's books were rather dry, and audiences preferred Lucy's lively lecturing style that employed clothing and props from exotic lands. William's third book, Self Giving, was an angry novel about overseas mission work that was based on the thinly disguised stories of real people, many of whom must have been exceedingly displeased to see themselves parodied in print. The hero and heroine were grossly idealized versions of William and Lucy themselves, and the arrogant book undoubtedly hurt William's standing in the missionary movement. He began work on a fourth book, From Eden to Patmos, that would be a travelogue of Bible lands, but a publisher did not quickly materialize and the family was running out of money.

Half-heartedly, William accepted the directorship of the Brooklyn City Mission Society, where Lucy soon created a women's branch, but his chief energies continued to go into his manuscript. Amid terrible family arguments, William lost his job. His wife and children had to confront the growing suspicion that he was descending into madness. Briefly William took the pastorate of the financially strapped Delaware Avenue Baptist Church in Wilmington, able to draw upon personal connections because the first pastor had been a member of his mother's family. Lucy staged exotic tableaux to boost her husband's ministry, but he continued to sink into his scholarly project, and he was soon unemployed again. Their son was a student of medicine at Columbia University, but he could not finish his training without financial help. The family disintegrated, and intermittent separations between William and the others eventually became permanent.

In abject despair, on January 2, 1891, Lucy knelt to pray. How her husband's compounded failures served God's plan, she could not imagine. Nearing her forty-ninth birthday, it was hard to see how she could start life anew. From her lonely vigil in Wilmington she cried to the Lord, and at the very depths of her agony, she sensed someone standing over her.

A reporter for the New York Times later heard her describe this moment to a Christian audience: "'I was in great perplexity what the Lord wanted me to do. One day I was alone on my knees, and I fancied - strange fancy, you may think - I saw our personal Savior standing before me. 'Wait,' he said to me, 'wait and you shall know what to do.'

"'At the very moment I was on my knees,' continued Mrs. Bainbridge, while the room was hushed in silence, 'Mrs. Brown, Superintendent of the Women's Branch of the New York City Mission, died suddenly. Next day her place was offered to me!'" (Anonymous, 1895)

Lucy had no doubts of the reality of this Epiphany, as she later told the Mission ladies: "It was not a dream that came to me in a distant city, on the very afternoon of Mrs. Brown's translation, when, kneeling and alone, pleading for light upon perplexity, the Savior stood for a moment visibly at hand and spoke the needed words of comfort. But such experiences are not for the world, and can only be hinted at for the encouragement of our sisters, who sit with us around the same hearthstone of the household of faith, and to whom we repeat the text" (L. Bainbridge, 1892).

For the next sixteen years she directed a full-time staff of fifty women doing religious social work with immigrants in lower Manhattan. Her son, now called Will, became a spectacularly successful surgeon with a world-spanning career, and he devoted much of his energy to showering love and honor upon his mother. Over the next few years Lucy wrote three books, including an autobiography, with the help of a secretary provided by Will (L. Bainbridge 1917, 1920, 1924). As a young bride in 1867, she had visited Bethel in the Holy Land, and for years the family used to express its hopes for the future by quoting Genesis 35:3: "And let us arise, and go up to Bethel." In response to Lucy's urging that she wanted to go to Bethel, Will obtained a beautiful country farm for her in the town of Bethel, Connecticut, where she enjoyed the summer of 1928, before returning to New York City where the flu epidemic of that winter carried her off.

Coping with Death

In the original statement of the Stark-Bainbridge theory, religious comfort for death is the principal example of primary compensation. Death cast its shadow across Lucy's childhood, in way that few modern American children experience so acutely. Sister Frances tumbled down the stairs to her death before Lucy was born. Lucy's darling sister, Cora Gussie, died at age five, and brother Walter, at age two. She greatly admired her older brother, George, who was ready to become a partner in the family business after a tour of Europe in 1860. But he contacted typhoid fever, an often lingering disease marked by high fever, pain and intestinal bleeding. George begged his sister to stay with him and tend him in his illness (L. Bainbridge, ca. 1920). George eventually died, and they buried him in Woodland Cemetery, sixty new acres of graveyard with a fine grove of trees and an ancient, sixty-foot Indian mound (Rose, 1950:262). Then they transferred the other Seaman corpses to lie beside him in this soothing paradise.

Always a reticent man, John Seaman became even more reluctant to express his feelings after the death of George. For many years, he would not show love to anyone. Cleora by now had lost four of her seven children, and she wondered which of the remaining three might be taken from her next. Lucy fell into deep despondency, not only because she had lost her beloved brother, but also because she was convinced that she herself would soon die. She thought of Cora Gussie, Uncle Solomon who had simply dropped dead one day, her favorite cousin Helen who had died about the same time, and of George - all gone within the space of two years. Lucy lost heart and waited to die. It was at this point that the family decided to send Lucy to school back East, in what proved a successful attempt to cure her profound depression.

At Ipswich Female Seminary, Lucy did several things that handled her grief. They can be described as strategies for getting control over her fate, ways of expressing personal competency, or fundamental algorithms for success. With great diligence she studied Alexander's (1851) Evidences of Christianity, a collection of pious essays by various scholars that sought to prove the truth of faith intellectually. Many of her free hours were spent in melancholic reverie, and one result was a tender six-stanza poem in which she imagined her dead loved ones waiting for her in the afterlife: "Loving arms are round me twining, heavenly music fills the air - Brother, friend and sister singing, sad but sweet to have you there." When a Boston newspaper published these verses, her friends in Cleveland hailed her as a poetess, but she was never again able to express serious thoughts in poetry.

Soon after her daughter died in 1870, Lucy published a sentimental story about grief and charity, featuring the death of a small child: "The Christian parents could in submission say, 'It is well, since God wills it so,' but the mother's heart was aching still for the earthly presence. She longed for a sight of the sunny face and the sound of the prattling lips so still. Heaven seemed too far away, and a long weary way ere she should reach it. How apt the sorrowing Christian heart is to forget the daily toil for Jesus, and 'look too eagerly beyond'" (L. Bainbridge, ca. 1870). This passage raises the question of how effective primary compensation can be. Although compensators are treated by humans as if they were rewards, humans prefer rewards to compensators (Stark and Bainbridge, 1987:36-37). The fact that very few people have chosen religious martyrdom suggests that most people would vastly prefer to live than to die with the promise of afterlife. All the religious compensators of her devout Baptist faith could not fully comfort Lucy at the loss of George and the others.

In each of these episodes, Lucy used structured forms of social communication to deal with her own grief, and to give herself confidence that she was competent to live her own life in the face of personal death. One interpretation, from the exchange perspective, is that she was obtaining social support for the religious algorithms that told her she would still benefit from her investments in her departed loved ones, in Heaven if not on Earth.

However, Lucy had some responsibility to protect several of the people who died near her, so secondary compensation was at work as well. At the time there were no easy medical cures for typhoid, intermittent fever and hydrocephalus, but Lucy's brother, mother and daughter were in her care when they died. Faith in the Christian afterlife would allow Lucy to feel less guilt, because her loved ones had presumably not lost all at death, but had "gone to their reward." Through sharing her religion publicly, in literature or everyday life, she forced her living associates to agree that the family deaths were acceptable or even rewarding, thereby socially legitimating her lack of responsibility for their loss. Thus, she could be free from shame as well as guilt.

Lucy's few weeks as a nurse in the Civil War were an intense initiation into adulthood that established an identity she would cherish for the rest of her life. She wore a red silk badge with gold lettering: "OHIO Relief Committee." Once when she was improvising a tent over a desperately wounded man whose face was blackened by dirt, gunpowder, and sunburn, a passing doctor called out to her, "Bully for you, Miss Ohio." Later she was feeding another man, shot in both arms, who asked, "Say, please, Ohio Relief, what's your name?" Whether from fatigue, or reluctance to let the men become too attached to her, Lucy declined to give her name and instead pointed at her badge, so he called her "Sister Ohio." Lucy gave him bread and milk, learned that he was an Ohio boy, and tended him for several days until he was transported to a hospital in Washington. After the war he showed up in Cleveland, one arm healed but the other gone, and proposed marriage to her. She declined, but ever afterward she would proudly think of herself as "Sister Ohio" (L. Bainbridge, 1919, 1924).

Given the lack of sanitary conditions and the impotence of medical technology to deal with loss of blood or the ubiquitous infections, death often followed wounding. Lucy's letters home from the battlefront and her published reminiscences contain sentimental stories of how she provided soldiers with religious compensators as she watched them die. Lucy was especially fond of Franky, a Michigan boy. He had been shot in both arms and one leg, and the wounds had become gangrenous and infested with maggots. "He said he was not afraid to die; he knew his mother had been praying for him a long time, and he thought Jesus would help him to die if he had to, but he would rather live."

Over the following days of Franky's final agony, Lucy fed him tea, soft bread, apple jelly, and oranges, singing sentimental songs like Homeward Bound and assisting Reverend Prugh with prayers and reading the twenty-third psalm. "Little Franky will not probably live many hours. I have been with him a good deal. I have written to his mother, and by and by shall write of his death. I have a lock of his hair and two little rings to send her. Poor little fellow he does suffer terribly." He had carved one of the rings from a nutshell, and his pathetic possessions included skeins of green and yellow sewing silk he had picked up at Fairfax Court House.

On June 10, 1864, after the wounded men in best condition had been sent to Washington hospitals, she wrote her family, "I have only Franky left and he can't live long. After seeing 'my boys' safely on board the steamer, I went up and sat with Franky until nearly bed time. The terrible pain he had suffered was nearly gone; he was very weak and hiccoughed badly, and I sat with him on the grass and fanned him and hummed There is a Light in the Window, Brother. I told him he could not get any better - that he was almost home. I told him of Jesus, and that if he would ask him to be with him when he went through the dark valley, he would lead him safely through, for he had promised to. I asked him if he was afraid to die. He said, 'Oh, no, Jesus will be with me,' and the tears ran down his face while I spoke of Jesus, of home and Heaven." She sang Jesus Loves Me, Rock of Ages, and I Have a Father in the Promised Land. Franky tried to sing with her, in a broken voice that strengthened briefly in the last verse: "I hope to meet you in the promised land."

Fortified by the explanation that death is always part of God's plan, Lucy frequently saw positive benefit in the deaths of people for who she had some responsibility. At the end of summer, in about 1886, the family was preparing to close the cottage in Rhode Island, as Willie and his adopted sister Helen readied to attend boarding schools and their parents headed back to Brooklyn, but there was a problem how to provide for their faithful servant, Maggie the Irish girl, and her frail baby. Maggie would have to find work in Providence, but she could not do so with the infant. Lucy hunted high and low for a willing orphanage or nursery, to no success. At the last possible moment, during a terrible thunderstorm, Lucy and Maggie knelt on the cottage floor and prayed for divine aid. Suddenly there was a terrible flash of lightning! Maggie ran terrified to her baby and found him lifeless. When a physician had finished his examination, he said, "The little fellow has gone away on the storm" (L. Bainbridge, 1924:101).

At the New York City Mission Society, assisting the dying was considered to be a noble success, as the case of poor Fanny illustrates. For twenty years, Fanny had lived in one corner of her mother's room, seldom going outdoors and judged too "idiotic" for work or education. The only alternative was to send her to the snake-pit institutions of Blackwell's Island, when the phrase "the island" struck terror into the hearts of poor New Yorkers. Lucy used to visit forty-year-old Fanny and marvel at this wretched loss of a life: "Do you wonder at the wasted form and wild stare of the poor creature housed year after year amidst such dreadful surroundings?" Her aged mother's only comfort was the missionary's visits. "The old, wrinkled face would light up as she talked about Christ, and the future life. 'I could die if only Fanny was cared for. I am getting so old and tired I'd be glad to be at rest.'"

Then, "the old woman dropped dead in the hallway, and no one could understand the sorrow of the poor, half-witted daughter as the coffin that contained her best earthly friend was carried out. Since then she has been dreadfully neglected; her drunken stepfather did not want any one to do anything for her. 'She'll have to get out now,' he said." Fanny begged Lucy to find her a job so she would not have to go to the Island. Lucy told her to trust Jesus, as her mother had, and when they came to take her away, they found that Fanny, too, had died. "Suddenly she exchanged the dark hovel for a glorious mansion of the Father's house" (Bainbridge, 1997:322).

Many times during Lucy's long career of service, someone whom she was trying to help out of a desperate situation died, and at least publicly she always interpreted the death as a blessing and a perfect solution to the person's problems. However, given his intellectual training and critical temperament, her husband may not have possessed the most comforting brand of faith, as the following missionary story he liked to tell suggests: "That sudden death of Rev. J. Thomas in 1837, when, just in sight of his expected life-work, a tree fell over on his boat from the bank of the Brahmaputra, killing him instantly - what could God have meant by this?" (W. F. Bainbridge, 1882a:187).

When Lucy herself died in 1928, her son Will sat for days in her darkened apartment, brooding, until his son John reminded him that his religious beliefs asserted that there was no need for sorrow because she had gone to a better life. By giving free medical care to the family of the leading clergyman of the Mission Society, Will arranged for publication of a rather unctuous biography of his mother (McKinney, 1932). For his remaining nineteen years, he constantly distributed his mother's books around the world and badgered influential people with her story, apparently continuing to feel unfulfilled obligations to her despite a plenitude of religious compensators. His own death in 1947 was described by Norman Vince Peale as the ideal Christian passing, sustained by absolute confidence in the life hereafter (Peale and Blanton, 1950).

Quest for Glory

William Folwell Bainbridge inherited from his father Samuel the career strategy that education and scholarship would make one an attractive religious specialist. Samuel McMath Bainbridge was born in Romulus, New York, in 1816, a generation after members of his family had helped found the first Baptist church in that town (Centennial Executive Committee, 1894:104-105; cf. Folwell, 1933). His father was a printer in Philadelphia for a few years, but came to Romulus to farm in 1793. Two of his uncles were part-time clergy and a third had graduated from medical college. In 1836 Samuel entered Hamilton Theological Seminary, and was ordained pastor of a church in Stockbridge, New York, in 1841. He married Romulus neighbor Mary Price Folwell, whose father had graduated from Brown College in the class of 1796. Until his death at the age of 49, he constantly moved from one small congregation in central New York to another (Slocum, 1908; Root, 1940; Schmidt, 1953).

Samuel took a leading role on the modernist side in the Baptist "Removal Controversy," that wanted to transform Hamilton into a non-sectarian university, an effort that failed but led to the founding of Rochester University (Anonymous, 1872; Rosenberger, 1925; Williams, 1969), and Hamilton later evolved into Colgate University without Samuel's help. One of his sermons survives, a fiery but scholarly essay on the revolutionary social and religious transformations of the decade before the Civil War (S. M. Bainbridge, 1856).

In taking this intellectual path, Samuel ignored the successful strategy followed by most preachers of his denomination. Finke and Stark (1988, 1992; Stark and Finke, 2000) have argued that the Baptists gained market share in the American religious economy during the nineteenth century because they resisted the Methodists' trend toward increasingly educated clergy and remained culturally and emotionally close to their parishioners. Samuel's family was highly educated, and the career strategy of becoming highly educated worked for members of the younger generations who entered secular careers of public service, notably William Watts Folwell (1933), president of the University of Wisconsin, and Bainbridge Colby (Spargo, 1963; Smith, 1970), US Secretary of State and law partner of President Wilson. But for Samuel's son William Folwell Bainbridge, the strategy ultimately failed.

William attended the highly intellectual graduate theology school that his father had helped create, and even joined the same fraternity to which his father had belonged (Delta Upsilon, 1934). The curriculum of Rochester Theological Seminary was extremely demanding. Sacred Philology required instruction and daily recitations in the languages of the Holy Scriptures: Hebrew, Greek, Aramaic, and Latin. Biblical Criticism and Exegesis stressed analysis in the original tongues of the texts, while Homiletics prepared students to compose and deliver sermons in English or German. Ecclesiastical History traced the growth and transformation of the Christian church, with special attention to the struggle between state-established churches and non-conforming resistance movements and to "the corruptions and reformations of the Christian life and worship in medieval and modern times" (Anonymous, 1863).

Immediately after Lucy married William, she discovered that he discretely shaved the hair back on his forehead, in the belief this made him appear more intelligent. Like his father before him he had ambitions to be an influential writer, and pastoral care did not interest him greatly. The two books he published in 1882 offered a "science of missions," and his 1883 novel overflowed with advice for missionaries, but the response was disappointing. He hoped to win literary glory through his travelogue, From Eden to Patmos, but no publisher was willing to take it. Unfortunately there was little fresh about it. On his first trip to the Holy Land, he had been personally helped by William McClure Thomson, who had then already published a popular travelogue (Thomson, 1859) which by the early 1880s was expanding into a three-volume set. Other competitors abounded (e.g. Tristram, 1866). The story of William's trek through Babylon would merely duplicate the book by John Newman (1876) who had ridden the identical route, and it could not be half so exciting as Layard's (1854) classic. Rather than give up his project, William became obsessed with it, eventually transforming it into a linguistic and geographic study of all the names of places and tribes mentioned in the Bible.

This gave the project a supernatural dimension. As John 1:1 explains, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." But many words in the Bible are obscure, so William could serve God by clarifying them. This would make him a valued exchange partner, playing the profoundly important role of intellectual mediator with the deity. Furthermore, his great project was scientific, like his earlier world tour books combining the power of religion and science. In China in 1879, William had convinced John Nevius to turn his long interest in spirit possession into a scientific study. Immediately after William departed, Nevius sent a questionnaire on the subject to all the Protestant missionaries in China (J. Nevius, 1896). Given Nevius' great prestige in the missionary community, William could feel he had an ally in believing that science could strengthen religion.

When Lucy and her children expressed doubts about William's all-consuming project, he could argue that it served the Lord, that it employed the best scientific methods, and that success would bring fame and prosperity to his family. In an sense this was the familiar problem in economics that people fail to realize that investing more money in a questionable scheme to recover sunk costs is usually a mistake. But it was more than that, because admitting failure would attack the basis of his subjective value as an exchange partner, which was based on shaky assertions of intellectual grandeur (cf. Lemert, 1967).

William's publications in the early 1880s, his few surviving letters, newspaper reports of his activities in Delaware, and the committee meeting minutes of a church he served in 1906 at Allston, Massachusetts, reveal a mind that was lucid and logical but convinced of its own brilliance and severely critical of other people. It is hard to say whether he fully exhibited the grandiosity and conspiratorial delusions of classical paranoia, but his personality certainly leaned in that direction, and we know of no other symptoms that would have caused his family to doubt his sanity. In 1915, William Folwell Bainbridge died, in a fine apartment at Harvard University where his son was supporting his fruitless scholarship. Lucy and her son rushed to Boston, and Will made a remarkable attempt to redeem his father's honor by personally dissecting his father's brain in a vain search for a physiological excuse for the obsessions.

William Seaman Bainbridge ("Will") inherited from his father the same career strategy of gaining great glory through "scientific" intellectual activity, but he became a surgeon not a clergyman. One influence was Lucy's admiration for her physician mother and for the successful physician who lived next door when she was a child and who left a large inheritance for his family when he died young. Another was her friend Dr. Eliza Mosher, who taught Will how to dissect cats in Brooklyn when he was a boy and first took him to Chautauqua (Vincent, 1885), the famous religious resort, where he later established a summer medical clinic. A third influence was Lucy's relative, Dr. Louis Livingston Seaman, older than Will and prominent in New York social circles, who had toured the hospitals of China and India in 1886 to study contagious and epidemic diseases and later observed medical practices in the Russo-Japanese War (Seaman, 1905, 1906).

In the summer of 1896, Will began practicing medicine at Chautauqua and faced the difficult decision of how to launch his career among the prosperous classes of New York City. Unexpectedly, a telegram came, asking Will to become the personal physician of John Sinclair, a wealthy patient connected with Lucy's Mission Society, who had gone violently insane. Will had to answer immediately, but his mother was vacationing in the Catskills and could not be reached. That night, Lucy awoke suddenly, with the terrible feeling that her son needed her. She anxiously told her surprised host she must leave instantly, and traveling all night, she reached Will late the next day. His astonishment was so great that he became absolutely convinced that he and his mother had been in telepathic communication. Together they prayed, and the answer came to them. Will would accept a roving commission to adjust Sinclair through travel, especially a walking tour through Switzerland and visits to the leading medical centers of Europe where Will could study with the best surgeons and develop valuable international contacts. For two years Will tended Sinclair, and one point barely escaping death when Sinclair tried to stab him in his sleep, and their extensive medical odyssey provided a great boost for his general practice, which he established at Manhattan's fashionable Gramercy Park.

Although surgery is a secular profession, Will relied upon religion to provide many of his clients: from Chautauqua, from the Mission Society, and from teaching a huge Bible class for women at the Fifth Avenue Baptist Church, where John D. Rockefeller, Jr., was teaching one for men. Like his father, Will believed that publishing authoritative intellectual books would confer valuable charisma upon him, so he wrote a surgical textbook on gynecology based on a course in which he and his medical students dissected female cadavers (Bainbridge and Meeker, 1906). He did not marry until the age of 41 in 1911, when he wed June Ellen Wheeler, cultivated daughter of a beef tycoon.

Like his father, around 1906 he began a massive book project, collecting all kinds of information about cancer, anthropological as well as medical. But unlike his father, he finished the project, publishing The Cancer Problem in 1914. Intended as a comprehensive guide for medical professionals, this was a scholarly as well as clinical book, and the bibliography ran to fifty-three pages. His surgical expertise was sorely tested, however, when his first child, named Elizabeth (after Lucy's middle name), was born without an esophagus. At that point, Will held the world record for operating on the youngest child using spinal analgesia, in successful surgery of a three-month-old. But for Elizabeth, he could do nothing, and she died after four days.

Years later, Will would tell a Baptist men's club that Elizabeth had been a bud from his June rose, saying she "has been transplanted and is now in the Garden of the King." Like him, June and Lucy had religious rhetoric ready to cloak feelings of loss and failure, but how well faith actually comforts the bereaved is an open question. Will always prayed before operating, and he considered Jesus to be the "Good Physician" who could cure any ailment. But when his technical competence was challenged by the death of Elizabeth, like Festinger's (1957; Festinger et al., 1956) disappointed millenarians he began to proselytize all the more vigorously. Will became the leading American advocate for the now-discredited theories of the King's surgeon, Dr. William Arbuthnot Lane, who believed that many ills were caused by intestinal blockages that could be cured by surgically straightening out kinks and separating adhesions (Barnes, 1977). Not only did Will perform numerous unnecessary abdominal operations, but he stormed the country convincing provincial surgeons to do the same. His most publicized case was an operation on the humorist Irvin S. Cobb (1915), and he also operated on this author's wife for "chronic intestinal stasis." He refused to recant even when the New York surgical establishment threatened to have him disbarred from medical practice.

During the First World War, he followed the example of his father and of his cousin Louis Seaman in exploiting the opportunities for career advancement through foreign travel to write fame-enhancing reports. In 1915 he toured medical facilities on both sides of the western front, and after the United States entered the war he did an extensive survey of treatment of the wounded in France and Britain (W. Seaman Bainbridge, 1919). With a Belgian friend, he organized the first Congrès International de Médecine et de Pharmacie Militaires in 1922, and he became permanent American co-president of the important international organization that resulted (W. Seaman Bainbridge, 1922; Voncken, 1939; Anonymous, 1971:404). Will published eight book-length reports of these meetings, and he mercilessly exploited his international fame to boost his New York practice. At the height of his career, he employed a man full-time to arrange publicity and distribute his more than 100 publications.


The biographical stories told in this paper are very specific, but they illustrate general principles. Some of the deepest human emotions are roused by the twin issues of death and glory. How can humans deal both personally and professionally with the crushing awareness of mortality? How can individuals win the competition to become valued exchange partners? If the people described here responded to those challenges in their own way, fundamentally they employed secondary compensators, which other people also regularly employ, each in accordance with his or her life's strategies.

It is not easy in all cases to distinguish when religion compensated Lucy's personal loss when someone close to her died (primary compensation), from when religion chiefly allowed her to fulfill her social obligations to others despite their deaths (secondary compensation). But in a number of her professional dealings with death, it is clear that religion was of great value to her as a secondary compensator, allowing defeat to be declared victory. Thus, through secondary compensation, religion can be a tactic for sustaining one's reputation as a valuable exchange partner, despite manifest failure to provide rewards to an exchange partner when one is obligated to do so.

Lucy shared with her husband and son the larger strategy of combining publications with foreign contacts to publicize herself as a potentially valuable exchange partner in the general field of religion and related professions, such as her own social work and her son's medicine. To some extent, glory is a primary compensator which gives the person self-esteem (the belief that one is a valuable exchange partner) and possibly a sense of immortality. But most obviously, glory associated with intellectual and professional accomplishments advertises one's value as an exchange partner to potential customers.

Stark and I have criticized the traditional sociological concept of charisma (Stark and Bainbridge, 1987:195), and we have also noted that it might be conceptualized as an unusual ability of religious leaders to build effective social bonds (Stark and Bainbridge, 1985:356). Now I suggest that secondary compensation is another way of conceptualizing charisma.

Charisma means the possession of spiritual gifts. I Corinthians 12:8-11 lists the gifts that different individuals may have: "For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom; to another the word of knowledge by the same Spirit; to another faith by the same Spirit; to another the gifts of healing by the same Spirit; to another the working of miracles; to another prophecy; to another discerning of spirits; to another diverse kinds of tongues; to another the interpretations of tongues; but all these worketh that one and the selfsame Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will." Wisdom, knowledge, healing, and the interpretations of tongues are the professional goals Lucy, William and Will set for themselves, and in so doing they harnessed secondary compensation to the service of their personal charisma, energized by the emotions communicated in social exchange.


Abbott, H. Porter. 1984 Diary Fiction: Writing as Action. Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press.

Alexander, Archibald (ed.). 1851 The Evidences of Christianity. Philadelphia: Hayes and Zell.

Allport, Gordon W. 1954 The Nature of Prejudice. Cambridge, Massachusetts, Addison-Wesley.

Anderson, Thomas D. 1906 The Centennial Services of the Central Baptist Church, Providence Rhode Island. Providence: Remington Printing Co.

Anonymous. 1839 Catalogue of the Officers and Members of the Seminary for Female Teachers at Ipswich, Massachusetts for the Year Ending April 1839. Salem, Massachusetts: Register Press.

Anonymous. 1863 Twelfth Annual Catalogue of the Officers and Students of the Rochester Theological Seminary. Rochester, New York: A. Strong.

Anonymous. 1872 The First Half Century of Madison University, 1819-1869. New York: Sheldon.

Anonymous. 1895 "Work for the Downtown Poor," New York Times, November 9: 5.

Anonymous. 1971 "Liège... and Military Medicine," International Review of the Army, Navy and Air Force Medical Services 5:404.

Asimov, Isaac. 1951 Foundation. New York: Gnome.

Axelrod, Robert. 1984 The Evolution of Cooperation. New York: Basic Books.

Bainbridge, Lucy Seaman. ca.1870 "Mrs. Dana's Christmas Day," published in an unidentified newspaper.

Bainbridge, Lucy Seaman. 1882 Round the World Letters. Boston: Lothrop.

Bainbridge, Lucy Seaman. 1892 No title, New York City Mission Society Monthly, January: 61.

Bainbridge, Lucy Seaman. 1917 Helping the Helpless in Lower New York. New York: Fleming H. Revell.

Bainbridge, Lucy Seaman. 1920 Jewels From the Orient. New York: Fleming H. Revell.

Bainbridge, Lucy Seaman. ca.1920 "A Remembrance of my Father and Mother, John Seaman and Cleora Augusta Stevens Seaman," typescript undated but no earlier than November 1915.

Bainbridge, Lucy Seaman. 1919 "Sister Ohio" The Outlook Vol. 122, No. 4, May 28:155.

Bainbridge, Lucy Seaman. 1921 "One of the Pioneer Women in Medicine," The Medical Woman's Journal 28 (March) 3: 75-79.

Bainbridge, Lucy Seaman. 1924 Yesterdays. New York: Fleming H. Revell.

Bainbridge, Samuel McMath 1856 "The Last Great Shaking." Penn Yan, New York: S. C. Cleveland.

Bainbridge, William Folwell. 1882a Along the Lines at the Front: A General Survey of Baptist Home and Foreign Missions. Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society.

Bainbridge, William Folwell. 1882b Around the World Tour of Christian Missions. New York: Blackall.

Bainbridge, William Folwell. 1883 Self-Giving. Boston: D. Lothrop.

Bainbridge, William Seaman. 1914 The Cancer Problem. New York: Macmillan.

Bainbridge, William Seaman. 1919 Report on Medical and Surgical Developments of the War, special issue of United States Naval Medical Bulletin.

Bainbridge, William Seaman. 1922 Report on Congres International de Medecine et de Pharmacie Militaires, special issue of United States Naval Medical Bulletin.

Bainbridge, William Seaman, and Harold D. Meeker. 1906 A Compend of Operative Gynecology. New York, Grafton.

Bainbridge, William Sims. 1986 Experiments in Psychology. Belmont, California: Wadsworth.

Bainbridge, William Sims. 1987 Sociology Laboratory. Belmont, California: Wadsworth.

Bainbridge, William Sims. 1995a "Minimum Intelligent Neural Device: A Tool for Social Simulation," Journal of Mathematical Sociology 20:179-192.

Bainbridge, William Sims. 1995b "Neural Network Models of Religious Belief," Sociological Perspectives 38:483-495.

Bainbridge, William Sims. 1995c "Social Influence and Religious Pluralism," Advances in Group Processes 12:1-18. Greenwich, Connecticut: JAI.

Bainbridge, William Sims. 1997 The Sociology of Religious Movements. New York: Routledge.

Bainbridge, William Sims, and Rodney Stark. 1980 "Scientology: To Be Perfectly Clear," Sociological Analysis 41: 128-136.

Barnes, Benjamin A. 1977 "Discarded Operations: Surgical Innovation by Trial and Error." Pp. 109-123 in Costs, Risks, and Benefits of Surgery, edited by John P. Bunker, Benjamin A. Barnes and Frederick Mosteller. New York: Oxford University Press.

Baron, James N. and Michael T. Hannan. 1994 "The Impact of Economics on Contemporary Sociology," Journal of Economic Literature 32: 1111-1146.

Catton, Bruce. 1965 Never Call Retreat. New York, Washington Square Press.

Centennial Executive Committee. 1894 Centennial Celebration of the Official Organization of the Town of Romulus, Seneca County, New York. Romulus, New York: Centennial Executive Committee.

Cobb, Irvin S. 1915 "Speaking of Operations." In Irvin Cobb At His Best. Sun Dial Press, Garden City, New York [1923].

Cole, Arthur C. 1940 A Hundred Years of Mount Holyoke College: The Evolution of an Educational Ideal. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Coleman, James S. 1990 Foundations of Social Theory. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press.

Collins, Randall. 1993 "A Theory of Religion," Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 32: 402-406.

De Forest, Louis Effingham. 1950 Ancestry of William Seaman Bainbridge. Oxford: The Scrivener Press.

Delta Upsilon. 1934 Delta Upsilon: One Hundred Years. No place of publication, Delta Upsilon Fraternity.

Elms, Alan C. 1981 "Skinner's Dark Year and Walden Two," American Psychologist, 36: 470-479.

Erikson, Erik H. 1958 Young Man Luther. New York: Norton.

Festinger, Leon. 1957 A Theory of Cognitive Dissonance. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press.

Festinger, Leon, Henry W. Riecken, and Stanley Schachter. 1956 When Prophecy Fails. New York: Harper and Row, 1956.

Finke, Roger and Rodney Stark. 1988 "Religious Economies and Sacred Canopies: Religious Mobilization in American Cities," American Sociological Review 53: 41-49.

Finke, Roger and Rodney Stark. 1992 The Churching of America: 1776-1990. New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press.

Folwell, William Watts. 1933 The Autobiography and Letters of a Pioneer of Culture. Minneapolis, University of Minnesota Press.

Frank, Robert H. 1988 Passions within Reason. New York: Norton.

Gartrell, C. David and Zane K. Shannon. 1985 "Contacts, Cognitions, and Conversion: A Rational Choice Approach," Review of Religious Research 27: 32-48.

Gazzaniga, Michael S. (ed.). 1995 The Cognitive Neurosciences. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press.

Green, Elizabeth Alden. 1979 Mary Lyon and Mount Holyoke: Opening the Gates. Hanover, New Hampshire: University Press of New England.

Guilford, Linda T. 1890 The Story of a Cleveland School. Cambridge: John Wilson and Son.

Haley, Jay. 1963 Strategies of Psychotherapy. New York: Grune and Stratton.

Haley, Jay. 1969 The Power Tactics of Jesus Christ. New York: Avon.

Homans, George C. 1950 The Human Group. New York: Harcourt, Brace and World.

Homans, George C. 1964 "Bringing Men Back In," American Sociological Review, 29: 809-818.

Homans, George C. 1967 The Nature of Social Science. New York: Harcourt, Brace and World.

Homans, George C. 1974 Social Behavior: Its Elementary Forms. New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich.

Homans, George C. 1981 "John Adams and the Constitution of Massachusetts," Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, 125(4): 286-291.

Homans, George C. 1984 Coming to my Senses. New Brunswick, New Jersey: Transaction.

Homans, George C. 1987 Certainties and Doubts. New Brunswick, New Jersey: Transaction.

Homans, George C. 1988 "Fundamentals of Sociology." Pp. 107-109 in The Witch Hazel. New Brunswick, New Jersey: Transaction.

Ingham, Mrs. W. A. 1893 Women of Cleveland and Their Work. Cleveland: W. A. Ingham.

James, William. 1902 The Varieties of Religious Experience. London: Fontana (1960).

Kelley, Harold H., John W. Thibaut, Roland Radloff, and David Mundy. 1962 "The Development of Cooperation in the 'Minimal Social Situation,'" Psychological Monographs 76.

Layard, Austen Henry. 1854 Nineveh and its Remains. London: John Murray.

Lemert, Edwin. 1967 "Paranoia and the Dynamics of Exclusion." Pp. 246-264 in Human Deviance, Social Problems and Social Control. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice Hall.

Macy, Michael W. 1990 "Learning Theory and the Logic of Critical Mass," American Sociological Review 55: 809-826.

1991 "Chains of Cooperation: Threshold Effects in Collective Action," American Sociological Review 56: 730-747.

Maxwell, William Quentin. 1956 Lincoln's Fifth Wheel: The Political History of the United States Sanitary Commission. New York, Longmans, Green.

McKinney, A. H. 1932 Triumphant Christianity: The Life and Work of Lucy Seaman Bainbridge. New York: Fleming H. Revell.

Miller, Neil E., and John Dollard. 1941 Social Learning and Imitation. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Nevius, Helen S. Coan. 1869 Our Life in China. New York: Robert Carter.

Nevius, Helen S. Coan. 1895 The Life of John Livingston Nevius. New York: Fleming H. Revell.

Nevius, John L. 1869 China and the Chinese. New York: Harper.

Nevius, John L. 1896 Demon Possession and Allied Themes, Being an Inductive Study of Phenomena of Our Own Times. New York: Fleming H. Revell.

Newman, John P. 1876 The Thrones and Palaces of Babylon and Nineveh: From Sea to Sea, a Thousand Miles on Horseback. New York: Harper and Brothers.

Peale, Norman Vincent and Smiley Blanton. 1950 The Art of Real Happiness. Prentice-Hall, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey.

Polanyi, Karl. 1957 "The Economy as Instituted Process." Pp. 29-51 in The Sociology of Economic Life. Edited by Mark Granovetter and R. Swedberg. Colorado: Westview Press [1992].

Root, Mary R. 1940 History of the Town of York, Livingston County, New York. Caledonia, New York: Big Springs Historical Society.

Rose, William Ganson. 1950 Cleveland: The Making of a City. Cleveland: World.

Rosenberger, Hesse Leonard. 1925 Rochester and Colgate: Historical Backgrounds of the Two Universities. Chicago, University of Chicago Press.

Rouse, B. F. 1883 "The Early History of the First Baptist Church of Cleveland, O.," in History of the First Baptist Church of Cleveland, Ohio. Cleveland: J. B. Savange.

Schmidt, Carl F. 1953 History of the Town of Wheatland. Rochester, New York: Schmidt.

Schutz, Alfred. 1945 "On Multiple Realities." Pp. 207-259 in Collected Papers, Volume I. The Hague: Nijhoff [1971].

Schutz, Alfred. 1972 The Phenomenology of the Social World. London: Heinemann Educational.

Seaman, Louis Livingston. 1905 From Tokio through Manchuria with the Japanese. New York: Appleton.

Seaman, Louis Livingston. 1906 The Real Triumph of Japan: The Conquest of the Silent Foe. New York: Appleton.

Shattuck, Gardiner H., Jr. 1987 A Shield and a Hiding Place: The Religious Life of the Civil War Armies. Macon, Georgia, Mercer University Press.

Sidowski, Joseph B., L. Benjamin Wyckoff, and Leon Tabory. 1956 "The Influence of Reinforcement and Punishment in a Minimal Social Situation," Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology 52: 115-119.

Skinner, B. F. 1938 The Behavior of Organisms. New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts.

Slocum, George E. 1908 Wheatland, Monroe County, New York, a Brief Sketch of its History. Scottsville, New York: Isaac Van Hooser.

Smith, Daniel M. 1970 Aftermath of War: Bainbridge Colby and Wilsonian Diplomacy 1920-1921. Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society.

Spargo, John. 1963 "Bainbridge Colby." Pp. 179-218, volume 5, in The American Secretaries of State and Their Diplomacy, edited by Samuel Flagg Bemis. New York: Cooper Square.

Stark, Rodney and William Sims Bainbridge. 1979 "Of Churches, Sects, and Cults: Preliminary Concepts for a Theory of Religious Movements," Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 18:117-131.

Stark, Rodney and William Sims Bainbridge. 1980 "Towards a Theory of Religion: Religious Commitment," Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 19: 114-128.

Stark, Rodney and William Sims Bainbridge. 1985 The Future of Religion. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Stark, Rodney and William Sims Bainbridge. 1987 A Theory of Religion. New York: Toronto/Lang. Reprinted with new preface, New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1996.

Stark, Rodney, Laurence R. Iannaccone, and Roger Finke. 1996 "Religion, Science, and Rationality," AEA Papers and Proceedings 86 (2): 433-437.

Stark, Rodney, and Roger Finke. 2000 Acts of Faith. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Thoits, Peggy A. 1989 "The Sociology of Emotions," Annual Review of Sociology 15: 317-342.

Thomson, William M. 1859 The Land and the Book. New York: Harper and Brothers.

Tristram, Henry B. 1866 The Land of Israel: A Journal of Travels in Palestine. London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge.

Vincent, John H. 1885 The Chautauqua Movement. Freeport, New York: Books for Libraries Press [1971].

Voncken, Jules. 1939 "Address by the Secretary General of the International Committee." Pp. 51-54 in Proceedings of the Tenth International Congress of Military Medicine and Pharmacy, volume 2. Washington: Government Printing Office.

Williams, Howard D. 1969 A History of Colgate University, 1819-1969. New York: Van Nostrand.

Wilson, Edward O. 1975 Sociobiology. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press.