[Transcriber’s Notes
A small number of obvious typos have been corrected. Except for this,
the spelling and punctuation of the book have not been changed.
Underscores are used for italic markup; the three words that end this
sentence _are in italics_.
The symbols ^{} are used to represent a superscript; for example "3
squared" would be printed as "3^{2}".
The footnotes have been renumbered from 1 to 988. Each footnote has
been placed at the end of the section in which it is flagged.]
NEW ENGLAND AND THE BAVARIAN ILLUMINATI
BY VERNON STAUFFER, A. M.
_Dean and Professor of New Testament and Church History
Hiram College_
SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS
FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
IN THE
FACULTY OF POLITICAL SCIENCE
COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY
NEW YORK
1918
COPYRIGHT, 1918
BY
VERNON STAUFFER
To
J. E., R. W., AND R. F.
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION 9
CHAPTER I
THE UNDERMINING OF PURITAN STANDARDS AND INSTITUTIONS
1. Rapid Disintegration of Puritanism after the Revolution 13
2. Ominous Discontent with the Standing Order 33
3. Alarms due to the Spread of Religious Radicalism and Scepticism 66
CHAPTER II
POLITICAL ENTANGLEMENTS AND HYSTERIA
1. The Situation prior to 1798 103
2. The Situation from 1798 to 1800 122
CHAPTER III
THE EUROPEAN ORDER OF THE ILLUMINATI
1. The Rise and the Disappearance of the Order 142
2. The Legend of the Order and its Literary Communication to
New England 186
CHAPTER IV
THE ILLUMINATI AGITATION IN NEW ENGLAND
1. Morse Precipitates the Controversy 229
2. Inconclusive Developments of Morse’s Second Formal
Deliverance 261
3. Morse Submits his Inept Documentary Evidence 287
4. Freemasonry’s Embarrassment and Protest 321
5. Attempts of Democrats to Fix the Countercharge of Illuminism
upon the Federalists 345
BIBLIOGRAPHY 361
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
The obligations incurred in the preparation of the following study
are much too numerous and varied to admit of adequate notice. Special
mention must, however, be made of my indebtedness to the staffs of the
following libraries: The Boston Athenaeum, Congregational, Masonic
(Boston), American Antiquarian Society, Connecticut Historical Society,
New York Historical Society, Library of Congress, the public libraries
of the cities of Boston and New York, the library of Hiram College, and
the university libraries of Harvard, Yale, and Columbia. In addition to
the many courtesies received from these sources, I have had valuable
assistance from the following persons: Mr. Newton R. Parvin, grand
secretary of the Grand Lodge of Iowa, A. F. & A. M., Cedar Rapids,
Iowa, whose warm personal interest in my investigation has found
expression in the loan of many valuable volumes; Mr. Worthington C.
Ford, of the Massachusetts Historical Society, who besides opening
freely to me the unpublished treasures of the Society, has given me the
benefit of peculiarly stimulating suggestions; Mr. Walter C. Green,
librarian of Meadville Theological School, who has most generously met
all my drafts upon his patience and time; and Professor Guy Stanton
Ford, of the University of Minnesota, who has made it possible for
me to use his copy of Forestier’s _Les Illuminés de Bavière et la
Franc-Maçonnerie allemande_, without which in this war period, with
its partial stoppage of the inflow of European literature, my chapter
on “The European Order of the Illuminati” could scarcely have been
written.
My greatest debt is to Professor William Walker Rockwell, of Union
Theological Seminary, who from the day that he suggested the theme not
only has followed the progress of the work with unwearied interest, but
at many points has guided my efforts and helped me to avoid numerous
pitfalls. Whatever excellencies the study contains are due to Professor
Rockwell’s stimulating criticism; the faults are altogether chargeable
to me.
There remains to acknowledge my obligation and express my best thanks
to my colleagues, Professors Ralph Hinsdale Goodale, Lee Edwin Cannon,
and John Samuel Kenyon, and to Miss Bertha Peckham, Registrar of Hiram
College, who have greatly assisted me by correcting copy, reading
proof, and otherwise helping to see the work through the press. To my
wife a special obligation is due because of the benefits derived from
her critical insight and heartening sympathy throughout the performance
of the task.
V. S.
HIRAM, OHIO.
INTRODUCTION
Few if any periods in our national history have been marked by a
greater variety of clashing interests than the closing decade of
the eighteenth century. Owing in part to inexperience in grappling
with the problems of government, in part to widely belligerent
and irreconcilable elements among the people, in part to grave
international complications and concerns, and in part, confessedly,
to rumors and excitements for which, as events proved, no adequate
grounds existed, the lives of the people of New England were tossed
rudely about on rough currents and counter-currents of mingled hope and
anguish. To a dispassionate observer (if anywhere on the green earth
at the close of the eighteenth century such an individual might have
been found) it must have seemed as though the citizens of New England
were as so many bits of wood, bobbing up and down on waters excessively
choppy but otherwise motionless. The agitation, however, was not merely
superficial; issues and movements of the most profound significance
were pouring their impetuous torrents through channels freshly cut and
steadily deepened by new streams of human interest which the erection
of the national government, in particular, had started on their
tortuous ways.
The development of this thesis calls for an evaluation of the
more significant elements and forces which gave to the period the
characteristic temper of nervous excitability by which it was
stamped. The profound spirit of apprehension, amounting to positive
distress, with which for many a thoughtful religious patriot of New
England the eighteenth century closed, constitutes a phenomenon as
impressive as it is curious. To isolate that spirit, to analyze it,
to explain its genesis and its development, to take account of its
attachments and antipathies with respect to the special interest under
consideration,—this must be regarded as no inconsiderable portion of
the general task.
On the morning of May 9, 1798, in the pulpit of the New North Church
in Boston, and on the afternoon of the same day in his own pulpit
at Charlestown, the occasion being that of the national fast, the
Reverend Jedediah Morse[1] made a sensational pronouncement. He
first discussed with his hearers “the awful events” which the European
Illuminati had precipitated upon an already distracted world, and then
proceeded solemnly to affirm that the secret European association
had extended its operations to this side of the Atlantic and was now
actively engaged among the people of the United States, with a view to
the overthrow of their civil and religious institutions. In the eyes of
the distinguished clergyman, the matter was of such serious moment that
he felt moved to remark:
I hold it a duty, my brethren, which I owe to God, to the cause of
religion, to my country and to you, at this time, to declare to
you, thus honestly and faithfully, these truths. My only aim is to
awaken in you and myself a due attention, at this alarming period,
to our dearest interests. As a faithful watchman I would give you
warning of your present danger.[2]
Morse’s warning by no means fell upon deaf ears. The “due attention”
he claimed for the alarm which he that day sounded was promptly and
generally accorded. Soon ministers were preaching, newspaper editors
and contributors writing and clearheaded statesmen like Oliver
Wolcott, Timothy Pickering, John Adams, and even the great Washington,
inquiring, and voicing their serious concern over the secret presence
in America of those conspirators whose greatest single achievement,
a multitude had come to believe, was the enormities of the French
Revolution.
It is true that before two years had passed men generally began to
admit the baseless nature of the alarm that Morse had sounded. None
the less one may not dismiss the incident with the light and easy
judgment that it signified nothing more than the absurd fears of a New
England clergyman who, under the strain of deep political and religious
concern, and after a hasty reading of the latest volume of religious
and political horrors that had just arrived from Europe,[3] rushed
into his pulpit and gave utterance to preposterous statements which
his imagination for the moment led him to believe were justified. The
episode has considerably larger and more important bearings. No man
could possibly have awakened such wide-spread concern as the minister
of Charlestown succeeded in awakening if it had not been true that
significant concurrent and related circumstances gave both setting and
force to the alarm which with such stout conviction he sounded.
What previous influences and events had tended to predispose the
public mind favorably to Morse’s alarm? What was the peculiar
combination and cast of events which gave the notion of a conspiracy
against religion and government in Europe and in America a clear
semblance of truth? In what ways, and to what extent, did the alarm
affect the lives and the institutions of the people of New England?
Finally, what were the grounds, real or imaginary, upon which the
charge of an Illuminati conspiracy rested? To answering these questions
the following pages are devoted.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Reverend Jedediah Morse, born at Woodstock, Connecticut, August 23,
1761, died at New Haven, June 9, 1826, was a man of note. He was the
author of the first American geography and gazetteer. His connection
with the leading public men of his times, particularly with those of
the Federalist party, was both extensive and intimate. His travels
and correspondence in the interests of his numerous geographical
compositions in part promoted this acquaintance; but his outspoken and
unflinching support of the measures of government during the Federalist
regime did even more to enhance his influence. Morse was graduated from
Yale College in 1783 and settled at Charlestown as minister of the
Congregational church in that place in 1789. His wife was Elizabeth Ann
Breese, granddaughter of Samuel Finley, president of the College of New
Jersey. Quite apart from all other claims to public recognition, the
following inscription, to be found to this day on a tablet attached to
the front of the house in Charlestown wherein his distinguished son was
born, would have rendered the name of Jedediah Morse worthy of regard:
“Here was born 27th of April, 1791,
Samuel Finley Breese Morse.
Inventor of the Electric Telegraph.”
W. B. Sprague’s _Annals of the American Pulpit_, vol. ii, pp.
247–256, contains interesting data concerning Morse’s activities
and personality. Sprague also wrote _The Life of Jedidiah Morse, D.
D._, New York, 1874. (Morse’s surname appears in the sources both as
“Jedediah” and “Jedidiah”). Sawyer’s _Old Charlestown, etc._, p. 299,
has an engaging account of Morse’s loyalty to the muse of Federalism,
and of the painful, though not serious physical consequences, in which
in at least one instance this involved him. _Cf._ also _Memorabilia
in the Life of Jedediah Morse, D. D._, by his son, Sidney E. Morse. A
bibliography of thirty-two titles by Morse is appended to the sketch in
F. B. Dexter, _Biographical Sketches of the Graduates of Yale College_,
vol. iv, pp. 295–304.
[2] _A Sermon, Delivered at the New North Church in Boston, in the
morning, and in the afternoon at Charlestown, May 9th, 1798, being
the day recommended by John Adams, President of the United States of
America, for solemn humiliation, fasting and prayer. By Jedidiah Morse,
D. D., Minister of the Congregational Church in Charlestown_, Boston,
1798, p. 25.
[3] Robison, _Proofs of a Conspiracy against all the Religions and
Governments of Europe, carried on in the Secret Meetings of the Free
Masons, Illuminati, and Reading Societies_, Edinburgh, 1797.
CHAPTER I
THE UNDERMINING OF PURITAN STANDARDS AND INSTITUTIONS
1. RAPID DISINTEGRATION OF PURITANISM AFTER THE REVOLUTION
Back of the War of Independence was the less absorbing but scarcely
less harrowing contest of the French and Indian War. Thus for a
period of fully thirty years the people of New England had been
subjected to the rough and unsettling experiences of military life.
This consideration, taken in connection with the fact that a growing
declension from the standards of the Puritan fathers had been the
occasion of increasing comment and concern from the middle of the
seventeenth century on,[4] will make explicable the fact that the
average citizen of New England emerged from the Revolutionary struggle
with the edge of his conscience dulled. The secularizing spirit of the
post-Revolutionary period, when questions of national organization
and unity, of the rehabilitation of commerce and industry, and of
international relations and policies were foremost in the thought of
the day, left marks upon the human spirit over which stern and rigorous
adherents to the old order wept copiously and long. For one thing,
the lives of the men and women of New England were never again to be
as barren of diversified interests as they had been in the past. The
successful issue of the struggle for political independence had so
enlarged the mind of the common man that he of necessity entertained
considerations of private desire and of public policy which he formerly
would have rejected entirely. The avenue of retreat to the ancient
simplicity and seclusion was forever closed.
The soundness of this estimate of the rapid disintegration of
Puritanism will be apparent if the changing attitude of the people on
the subject of theatrical entertainments is considered.[5] As early as
the year 1750 the General Court of Massachusetts had found it necessary
to enact legislation to prevent stage-plays and other theatrical
entertainments.[6] That Puritan standards dominated the situation at
the time is evidenced both by the reasons advanced by the framers of
the law for its enactment and by the stringent penalties attached
to it. The justification of the measure was found in the economic
waste, the discouraging effect upon industry and frugality, and the
deleterious effect upon morality and religion which stage-plays were
believed to exercise. The penalties imposed called for a fine of twenty
pounds upon any owner of property who permitted his property to be
used for such purposes, while a fine of five pounds was to be assessed
upon any actor or spectator found in attendance upon or participating
in any such exercises where more than twenty persons were assembled
together.[7] How meekly the craving for pleasurable excitement bowed
its head in submission, there is no evidence to show; but it is
very clear that as the century drew toward its close the people of
Massachusetts began to manifest a decidedly intractable spirit with
respect to legislative control of their amusements and pleasures.
The days of the Revolution supplied thrills of their own, and the
colonists gave themselves in devotion to their great task-at-arms,
with little desire for the amenities of life. Accordingly, when
the Continental Congress, on October 16, 1778, passed a resolution
deprecating every species of public entertainment which would be likely
to divert the minds of the people from the considerations of public
defence and the safeguarding of their liberties,[8] there was nothing
singular about the episode, and we may believe readily that the people
of New England, fortified by their grim spirit of determination and
their long tradition of self-denial, in no sense fell short of the
general standard. But by the year 1790 the people living in and about
Boston had come to a very different state of mind. In that year by
petition to the General Court they sought to have the prohibitory act
of 1750 revoked.[9] The incident has importance because it registers
a determined effort to feed desires whose hunger-pains had grown
insistent.
The history of this particular effort to remove legislative
restrictions in the way of harmless amusements is illuminating. The
petition referred to received scant consideration at the hands of the
legislators of Massachusetts. The following year certain gentlemen
of Boston, to the number of thirty-nine, presented a memorial to the
selectmen of that city, requesting that a vote of the citizens be taken
on the questions of permitting the erection and use of a building for
theatrical entertainments, and the issuing of instructions to Boston’s
representatives in the legislature calling for the repeal of the
obnoxious law. Apparently the plebiscite was not taken; but the general
question was debated in town meeting. A committee was appointed to
prepare instructions. The committee reported favorably concerning the
proposed instructions to Boston’s representatives in the legislature,
and these representatives later undertook the task of bringing a
majority of the members of the General Court to the more liberal point
of view; not, however, with immediate success. Meanwhile, to the
scandal of Governor John Hancock, and doubtless many another advocate
of decency and order, theatrical entertainments, “under the Stile &
Appellation of Moral Lectures,”[10] flourished openly in Boston.[11]
It was during the progress of the debate in the legislature over the
proposed repeal of the law against theatrical entertainments that John
Gardiner, one of Boston’s representatives in that body, delivered
himself of sentiments touching what he styled “the illiberal, unmanly,
and despotic act” of 1750. His speech gave evidence of how fresh and
independent the judgments of some minds had come to be. Addressing the
presiding officer, Gardiner said:
Sir! I really and truly venerate; I would rather say, I sincerely
and almost enthusiastically admire the many great and splendid
virtues of our renowned puritan ancestors ... ; but still, Sir,
they were only men; and, like all other men, were fallible; liable
to frailties, to prejudices, and to error. Some errors, and some
unjust prejudices, they undoubtedly had. Would to God a veil
was drawn over all their absurd prejudices which, like spots in
the sun, tend in some small degree to bedarken and obscure the
otherwise truly-resplendent glories of their character. One of these
prejudices, in my opinion, was their inveterate opposition and
abhorrent aversion to the theatre.[12]
That Gardiner was the spokesman of a very considerable number of
citizens is demonstrated by the fact that on March 28, 1793, a bill
drawn to take the place of the older legislation against theatrical
amusements and granting specifically to the people of Boston the
right to erect a theatre and to have “stage plays performed under
certain regulations and restrictions,” was enacted by the legislature
of Massachusetts.[13] It is very evident that public sentiment had
veered round to a radically new and different view respecting the
place and function of the theatre. So much so, indeed, that some who
sought to shape the thought and determination of the times recommended
the establishment of the theatre as the only possible way of drawing
the desires and interests of the people away from grosser and more
injurious excitements toward which, it was believed, an alarming growth
of frivolity and lack of moral concern was rapidly sweeping the people
of New England.[14]
This alleged declension of morals may be more vitally viewed from the
standpoint of the subject of intemperance. Convivial habits were a
fixed part of the New England character, and the sin of drunkenness
was as old as the settlement of the country. The practice of brewing
was numbered among the employments of the first settlers.[15] Rum was
generally used by the people, and the commercial life of the colonies
was inextricably woven with its importation and exportation.[16] Cider
was the native New England beverage.[17] The importation of wine was
large from the first.[18] A general tendency in the direction of
increased habits of drinking was to be expected.[19]
The period of the Revolution made its own special contribution to the
gravity of the case. The soldiers of the Continental armies received
regular rations of liquor,[20] and at the expiration of the war carried
back to their respective communities the habits of intemperance which
in many cases their army life had strengthened. Rum was more and more
coming to be regarded as one of the necessities of life;[21] and with
the revival of industry and commerce after the war the business of
distilling mounted rapidly to amazing proportions.[22]
A growing uneasiness over the social and economic consequences
involved in the spread of alcoholism is apparent. Under the date of
July 29, 1789, the Reverend Jeremy Belknap, minister of the church
in Long Lane, Boston, is found writing thus to Dr. Benjamin Rush,
Philadelphia’s celebrated physician and early apostle of temperance
reform:
With respect to spirituous liquors I believe some good has been
done, but much more remains to be done. The distilleries here are
so ready a source of gain, that, till the _auri sacra fames_ shall
cease to be a ruling passion, I fear there will no end be put to
them. The demand from abroad I am told increases, particularly from
the north of Europe, & while the stills are kept going there will
be a large home consumption. In an excursion of about 80 miles into
the country a few weeks since, I met many loads of pot & pearl
ashes coming down, & on my return the teams which I met were loaded
with dry fish, hogsheads of salt, & barrels of rum. The thirst for
spirits in the back country is so ardent, that in the fall & winter
they will sell their wheat for this sort of pay, & then in the
spring and summer following go 40 or 50 miles after bread. However,
we do what we can by way of precept & example, & we do not intend
to be discouraged.[23]
The correspondence which the Reverend Bulkley Olcott, minister of the
church in Charlestown, New Hampshire, had with Belknap is of like
import.[24] He had tried to obtain accurate statistical information
from the Excise Master as to the quantity of spirituous liquors
consumed in his county, and had not succeeded. However, it is a
matter of his personal knowledge that many good estates have been
squandered through drinking, and much time, labor, and health, and many
lives destroyed in the same way. He recognizes that many concurring
circumstances come to the aid of spirituous liquors in working fatal
results; still the general abuse of drink is declared to be one of the
heaviest and most threatening evils under which the country groans.
The taverns of the day on all public occasions,[25] and frequently
in the ordinary course of their business, were filled with gambling,
carousing, drinking crowds. The extent to which the great occasions of
state were seized upon as opportunities for open and shameless drinking
had become a scandal. The custom of granting a certain allowance of
rum per day to laborers was honored in at least some sections of the
country.[26] Accidental deaths due to drunkenness, and cases of suicide
and insanity traceable to the same cause, were frequently reported.[27]
All classes of society, young and old, rich and poor, men and women,
fell victims to the great scourge. The colleges were not immune. At
Yale, wine and liquors were kept in the rooms of many of the students
and intemperance was one of the commonest of student faults.[28]
Clergymen, though generally restraining themselves from gross
indulgence, were accustomed to feel that the spirit of conviviality
and the discussion of the affairs of church and state went hand in
hand;[29] and now and then the bounds of propriety were overstepped.
Other unfavorable aspects of the situation may be found in the habits
of card-playing and gambling which everywhere prevailed, and in the
frequent allusions to instances of social vice and illegitimacy with
which the pages of the diary of such a careful observer as the Reverend
William Bentley were laden.[30]
The opinion that the social life of the period was desperately unsound
was accepted without question by many a so-called interpreter of the
times. The observations which President Timothy Dwight, of Yale, made
in his Century Sermon[31] expressed the views of many minds. Dating
“the first considerable change in the religious character of the people
of this country” with the beginning of the French and Indian War,[32]
he continued:
The officers and soldiers of the British armies, then employed
in this country, although probably as little corrupted as those
of most armies, were yet loose patterns of opinion and conduct,
and were unhappily copied by considerable numbers of our own
countrymen, united with them in military life. These, on their
return, spread the infection through those around them. Looser
habits of thinking began then to be adopted, and were followed,
as they always are, by looser conduct. The American war increased
these evils. Peace had not, at the commencement of this war,
restored the purity of life which existed before the preceding
war. To the depravation still remaining was added a long train of
immoral doctrines and practices, which spread into every corner
of the country. The profanation of the Sabbath, before unusual,
profaneness of language, drunkenness, gambling, and lewdness were
exceedingly increased; and, what is less commonly remarked, but is
perhaps not less mischievous than any of them, a light, vain method
of thinking concerning sacred things and a cold, contemptuous
indifference toward every moral and religious subject.[33]
But this sweeping judgment of Yale’s president, together with the
specific explanation of the situation which he offered, are to be
checked up by other and less pessimistic considerations. That there was
much pertaining to the customs and manners of the times to be deplored,
is not to be denied. On the other hand, that society in New England,
as the eighteenth century drew toward its close, was actually lapsing
from soundness and virtue to the extent that its fundamental views and
habits were being altered, is far from clear. Observers who spoke to
the contrary listened chiefly to the murmurs of the shallows and were
unresponsive to the deeps.
The fact is, new ideals and new forces were working upward in the
common life of the age. The new sense of freedom which the War of
Independence ushered in, the steadily growing prosperity of the people,
the development of social intimacies as the population of the country
increased, the intrusion and growing influence of foreign ideas and
customs, the steadily diminishing domination of the clergy—these all
tended to inaugurate a new order which clashed more or less violently
with the old. The memories of the old Puritan régime were still
sufficiently vivid to make every lapse from liberty into license appear
ominous in the extreme.
A general relaxing of social customs expressed itself in manifold ways
over all those areas where actual stagnation had not come to pass; but
this loosening was by no means characterized by deep-seated coarseness
or general immorality.[34] The people had begun to claim for themselves
some relaxation, and hence to amuse and satisfy themselves in the
light of their enlarged conceptions of the freedom and privileges
of life. On the whole, their enjoyments and amusements were such
as characterize a state of healthy-mindedness at a time of marked
transition.
In the main, the condition of the people was deplorable for what
they lacked in the way of incitements to pleasurable and helpful
social and cultural employments rather than because of what they
possessed.[35] When it is recalled how considerable was the dearth of
material for mental occupation; how undeveloped, for example, were
music and painting;[36] how the newspapers and magazines of the day
supplied little or nothing of a constructive or inspiring character;
how science was almost totally undeveloped,[37] libraries few in
number and destitute of stimulating material, the colleges for the
most part mooning the years away over insipid and useless abstractions
and dogmatic formulations, the wonder is that the rebound against
Puritanism, in this period of intense political excitement and the
growing secularization of thought, was not tenfold more violent and
subversive than it was.[38]
The impression communicated by this view is heightened when it is
recalled that the struggle for political independence not only had
affected profoundly the status of the people of New England with
respect to both their internal and their external relations; it had
also made substantial and significant modifications in the very
constitution of society itself. When the reorganization of affairs
after the Revolutionary struggle was over, it became increasingly
apparent that the control of the forces and institutions of society
in New England was in the hands of new leaders and arbiters. The
aristocracy of unquestioned conservatism which had all society under
its thumb before the Revolution, had been swept away generally in the
flood of that epochal event. Up from the small towns and villages
of the country to the great centers, to Boston particularly, came a
small army, made up largely of squires and gentry,[39] to establish a
new but less secure sovereignty, to assume control of the social and
political forces of the day, and, more or less unaware of the precise
significance of the turn of events, to measure its strength against
those new forces of democracy which in New England, as no place else
in the nation, were to find themselves compelled to fight a long and
stubborn battle to secure their emancipation.
Assuming without question the direction of affairs, this new
aristocracy, after the fashion of the old leaders who were gone,
addressed itself to the task of social, political, and religious
control.[40] Manifestly the situation was big with possibilities with
respect to the effect to be produced upon the thought and habits of the
people. There they dwelt in their spacious houses,[41] these modern
aristocrats and autocrats of fashion and custom, by no means rolling in
luxury and idleness, yet claiming and enjoying a degree of relaxation
and social pleasure vastly more lavish than that accorded to their
plebeian neighbors, occupying themselves with their parties, their
weddings and dances,[42] their refinements of dress[43] and behavior,
but with little or no disposition to abandon themselves to scandalous
conduct.
The constant challenge of the political necessities of the times,
it may be urged, was altogether too compelling to admit of any such
looseness. Still, one cannot scan the newspapers of the period, or
read the story of the social commerce of the times as it pieces itself
together out of the private records and correspondence of the day,
or listen even to the pulpit’s copious flood of denunciations,[44]
without a feeling of mingled admiration and astonishment that in an age
everywhere characterized by upheaval and ferment there was really as
little of shameless and wanton conduct in New England as the records of
the period reveal. It cannot but be viewed as a notable tribute to the
essential soundness and nobility of that type of moral and religious
culture which Puritanism had supplied from the first that the New
England character should be able to pass through a period of profound
social readjustment, of the discarding of old value judgments and the
adoption of new, such as came near the close of the eighteenth century,
and this without serious loss of moral power and prestige. Manifestly,
whatever hollowness and insincerity Puritanism may have developed in
other lands and times, it did not so cramp and fetter the human spirit
in New England as to render it incapable of self-guidance when the old
restraints and limitations were no more.[45]
Now that its controlling spirit of gravity and provincialism was being
replaced by a general temper of comparative light-heartedness and
open-mindedness, of unaffected enjoyment of the good things of life,
of the acceptance of standards far more natural than those of the
earlier day, the transition was accomplished with a relative absence of
accompanying instances of moral lapse and disaster nothing less than
remarkable. A considerable amount of the boisterousness and heat of
the day over which clerical Jeremiahs and others of like conservative
leanings ceased not to pour out their complaints,[46] is explicable on
the ground of the growing habit of the mass of the people to exercise
the rights of citizenship through direct participation in the affairs
of the day. For far more significant than any evidence of moral
blindness and perversity on the part of the people in general is the
fact that a great, crowding, hungry democracy was knocking at the gates
of the old aristocratic régime and insistently urging the consideration
of its rights.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] An early and yet typical example of this unfavorable view of the
moral and religious life of the people after the first generation of
the Puritans was gone, may be found in _The Result of 1679_,—a document
prepared by the Synod in response to directions from the Massachusetts
General Court, calling for answers to the following questions: “What
are the euills that haue provoked the Lord to bring his judgments on
New England? What is to be donn that so those euills may be reformed?”.
The following brief excerpt from _The Result_ supplies the point of
View: “Our Fathers neither sought for, nor thought of great things
for themselves, but did seek first the kingdom of God, and his
righteousness, and all these things were added to them. They came not
into the wilderness to see a man cloathed in soft raiment. But that we
have in too many respects, been forgetting the Errand upon which the
Lord sent us hither; all the world is witness: And therefore we may not
wonder that God hath changed the tenour of his Dispensations towards
us, turning to doe us hurt, and consuming us after that he hath done us
good. If we had continued to be as once we were, the Lord would have
continued to doe for us, as once he did.” The entire document, together
with much valuable explanatory comment, may be found in Walker, _Creeds
and Platforms of Congregationalism_, pp. 421–437. Backus, _History of
New England_, vol i, pp. 457–461, contains a group of similar laments.
[5] Snow, _A History of Boston_, p. 333.
[6] Weeden, _Economic and Social History of New England_, vol. ii, p.
696.
[7] _Acts and Resolves, Public and Private, of the Province of
Massachusetts Bay_, vol. iii, pp. 500 _et seq._ The Preamble of this
Act is highly interesting: “For preventing and avoiding the many and
great mischiefs which arise from publick stage-plays, interludes and
other theatrical entertainments, which not only occasion great and
unnecessary expenses, and discourage industry and frugality, but
likewise tend generally to increase immorality, impiety and a contempt
for religion,—Be it enacted”, _etc._
[8] Seilhamer, _History of the American Theatre_, vol. ii, pp. 51 _et
seq._; Winsor, _The Memorial History of Boston_, vol. iv, ch. v: “The
Drama in Boston,” by William W. Clapp, pp. 358 _et seq._
[9] Seilhamer, _op. cit._, vol. iii, p. 13; Dunlap, _History of the
American Theatre_, vol. i, p. 244; Snow, _History of Boston_, pp. 333
_et seq._
[10] _Acts and Laws of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts_, 1792–3, pp.
686 _et seq._
[11] The public discussion and legislative phase of the situation,
together with the disorders occasioned by the determination of the
supporters of the theatre to serve their enterprise at any cost,
are well covered by Clapp in the chapter already cited in Winsor’s
_Memorial History of Boston_. _Cf._ also Seilhamer, vol. iii, pp. 14
_et seq._; Dunlap, vol. i, pp. 242 _et seq._; Willard, _Memories of
Youth and Manhood_, vol. i, pp. 324, 325; Bentley, _Diary_, vol. i. pp
340, 379, 380, 414, 415, 418, _etc._
[12] _The Speech of John Gardiner, Esquire, Delivered in the House
of Representatives. On Thursday, the 26th of January, 1792_, Boston,
1792, p. 18. Another publication of the same year, _The Rights of the
Drama: or, An Inquiry into the Origin, Principles, and Consequences
of Theatrical Entertainments. By Philo Dramatis_ (pseud.), discussed
the subject in different vein, but with the same object in view.
In the final chapter on “The Outlines of a Theatre, it’s Necessary
Appendages, a Plan of Regulation, Calculation of Expenses, Profits,
&c.”, doubtless by way of turning the balance of public judgment in
favor of the establishment of a local theatre, the author suggests that
the following ends may be served: the development of native genius,
and thus the elevation of America to a high rank in the republic of
letters; the reservation of a certain portion of the revenues of the
theatre by the Commonwealth, for the care of the poor of Boston, or
of the state, and for the support of the University at Cambridge
(Harvard), thus easing the burden of taxation. The closing words of
this pamphlet, stripped of their bombast, are not unworthy to stand
with Gardiner’s: “Whenever I consider this subject, and contemplate the
formation of a Theatre, I cannot help feeling a kind of enthusiasm ...
I anticipate the time when the Garricks and Siddons of America shall
adorn the Stage, and melt the soul to pity. But here let me pause.—Let
the most rigid Stoic, or the greatest fanatic in religion, or the most
notorious dupe to prejudice, once hearken to the tale of the tragic
muse, whose office it is to soften, and to subdue the violent passions
of the mind, by painting the real misfortunes and distresses, which
accompany our journey through life; or attend to the laughable follies,
and vain inconsistencies, which daily mark the character of the human
species—the deformity of vice—the excellence of virtue—, and, from the
representation of the lively Comedy, ‘catch the manners living as they
rise,’ and then say, if he can, that lessons of instruction are unknown
to the Drama. If these have no effect, let him listen, with mute
attention, to the occasional symphonies, which burst from a thousand
strings, and accompany, and give life and animation to the Comic
scene—and then, if sunk below the brute creation, let him be fortified
against the impressions of sensibility. The stoicism of man must
surpass our comprehension, if the dramatic scene can be contemplated
without emotion; more especially when the representation of life and
manners is intended to correct and to enlarge the heart....”
[13] _Cf._ (Boston) _Independent Chronicle and Universal Advertiser_,
Thursday, March 28, 1793.
[14] _Pseud._: _Effects of the Stage on the Manners of a People: and
the Propriety of Encouraging and Establishing a Virtuous Theatre. By a
Bostonian_, Boston, 1792. The author is insipid enough; none the less
the pamphlet is by no means void of a certain practical-mindedness
and good sense as the author argues for the frank acceptance of the
theatre as an institution in the city’s life. The following constitute
his chief contentions: The theatre, in some form or other, is bound
to come, because of the fact that the people generally are interested
in the subject of amusement; the tastes and appetites of the people
already give painful evidence of serious debasement and corruption; the
acceptance of a “Virtuous Theatre” is the only possible expedient if
the people are to be saved from worse debauchment.
The view taken by the Reverend William Bentley, Salem’s well-known
minister, was less specious, though tinged with a mildly pessimistic
view of popular tastes. Under date of July 31, 1792, he wrote: “So much
talk has been in the Country about Theatrical entertainments that they
have become the pride even of the smallest children in our schools.
The fact puts in mind of the effect from the Rope flyers, who visited
N. England, after whose feats the children of seven were sliding down
the fences & wounding themselves in every quarter.” _Diary_, vol. i,
p. 384. Later, he wrote: “The Theatre opened for the first time [in
Salem] is now the subject. The enlightened who have not determined upon
its utter abolition have yet generally agreed that it is too early
introduced into our country.” _Ibid._, vol. ii, p. 81. _Cf. ibid._, pp.
258, _et seq._, 299, 322. It is clear that Bentley was apprehensive.
[15] Weeden, _Economic and Social History of New England_, vol. i, pp.
188, 195; Bishop, _History of American Manufactures_, vol. i, pp. 245
_et seq._
[16] _Ibid._, p. 250; vol. ii, pp. 501, 502. See also Clark, _History
of Manufactures in the United States_, p. 480.
[17] _Ibid._ Bishop notes the fact that in 1721 a small village of
forty houses, near Boston, made 3000 barrels of cider.
[18] _Ibid._, p. 269; Weeden, _op. cit._, vol. i, pp. 144, 148 _et seq._
[19] The impression that this decline toward a general state of
drunkenness set in early will appear from the following excerpt taken
from the Synod’s report on “The Necessity of Reformation”, presented
to the General Court of Massachusetts in 1679: “VIII. There is much
Intemperance. The heathenish and Idolatrous practice of Health-drinking
is become too general a Provocation. Dayes of Training, and other
publick Solemnityes, have been abused in this respect: and not only
English but Indians have been debauched, by those that call themselves
Christians, who have put their bottles to them, and made them drunk
also. This is a crying Sin, and the more aggravated in that the first
Planters of this Colony did (as in the Patent expressed) come into this
Land with a design to Convert the Heathen unto Christ.... There are
more Temptations and occasions unto _That Sin_, publickly allowed of,
than any necessity doth require; the proper end of Taverns, &c. being
to that end only, a far less number would suffice: But it is a common
practice for Town dwellers, yea and Church-members, to frequent publick
Houses, and there to misspend precious Time, unto the dishonour of
the Gospel, and the scandalizing of others, who are by such examples
induced to sin against God.” _Cf._ Walker, _Creeds and Platforms of
Congregationalism_, p. 430.
[20] Hatch, _The Administration of the American Revolutionary Army_,
pp. 89 _et seq._ The supplies of beer, cider, and rum furnished the
armies were not always held to be adequate. After the battle of
Brandywine, Congress ordered thirty hogsheads of rum distributed among
the soldiers as a tribute to their gallant conduct in that battle.
_Cf._ _One Hundred Years of Temperance_, New York, 1886, article by
Daniel Dorchester on “The Inception of the Temperance Reformation”, p.
113, for comments on the effects of the return of drunken soldiers to
the ranks of citizenship.
[21] Weeden, _op. cit._, vol. ii, p. 883, supplies the following
concerning the character of the coasting and river trade, which the
exigencies of the war greatly stimulated: “A cargo from Boston to Great
Barrington and Williamstown contained 11 hdds. and 6 tierces of rum, 3
bbls. of wine, 2 do. of brandy, 1/2 bale of cotton, and 1 small cask of
indigo. The proportion of ‘wet goods’ to the small quantity of cotton
and indigo is significant, and indicates the prevailing appetites”.
[22] In 1783 Massachusetts had no fewer than sixty-three distilleries.
In 1783 this state distilled 1,475,509 gallons of spirits from foreign,
and 11,490 gallons from domestic materials. From 1790 to 1800 in the
United States, 23,148,404 gallons of spirits were distilled from
molasses; of this 6,322,640 gallons were exported, leaving a quantity
for home consumption so large as to supply its own comment. Low grain
prices, together with the difficulty of gaining access to the molasses
markets, hastened a transition to grain distilling near the end of
the eighteenth century, with the result that in 1810 Mr. Gallatin,
Secretary of the Treasury, reported not less than 9,000,000 gallons of
spirits as having been distilled from grain and fruit in 1801. Bishop,
_History of American Manufactures_, vol. ii, pp. 30, 65, 83, 152;
Clark, _History of Manufactures in the United States_, p. 230.
[23] _Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society_, 6th ser.,
vol. iv, Belknap Papers, pt. iii, p. 440.
[24] _Ibid._, p. 508.
[25] _Diary of William Bentley_, vol. ii, p. 92: May 31, 1794: “The
observation of holydays at Election is an abuse in this part of the
Country. Not only at our return yesterday, did we observe crowds around
the new Tavern at the entrance of the Town, but even at this day, we
saw at Perkins’ on the neck, persons of all descriptions, dancing to a
fiddle, drinking, playing with pennies, &c. It is proper such excesses
should be checked.” _Cf._ also _ibid._, pp. 58, 363, 410, 444 _et seq._
_Cf._ also Earle, Alice Morse, _Stage-coach and Tavern Days_, New York,
1900.
[26] _Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society_, 6th Series,
vol. iv, Belknap Papers, pt. iii, p. 456. Jeremiah Libbey writes of
the situation at Portsmouth, [N. H.?]: “The common allowance of rum
to labourers here is half a pint per day, which has been the rule or
custom as long as I can remember. There are several persons in this
town that are endeavouring to abolish the custom by giving them more
wages in lieu of the _allowance_, as it is call’d; but the custom is
so rooted that it is very difficult to break it. The attachment is
so great, that in general if you were to offer double the price of
the allowance in money it would not be satisfactory to the labourers,
and altho’ that is the case & it is the ruin of them and familys in
many instances ... untill a substitute of beer or some other drink is
introduced in general, it will be difficult to get over it”.
[27] _Diary of William Bentley_, vol. i, pp. 167, 175, 217, 218, 244,
247, 248, 255, 256, 281 _et seq._
[28] _Autobiography and Correspondence of Lyman Beecher_, vol. i, p. 30.
[29] _Ibid._, p. 24. The description of the meeting of the
Consociation, pp. 214 _et seq._, is unusually vivid: “ ... the
preparation for our creature comforts in the sitting-room of Mr.
Heart’s house, besides food, was a broad sideboard, covered with
decanters and bottles, and sugar, and pitchers of water. There we
found all the various kinds of liquors then in vogue. The drinking
was apparently universal. This preparation was made by the society as
a matter of course. When the Consociation arrived, they always took
something to drink round; also before public services, and always on
their return. As they could not all drink at once, they were obliged to
stand and wait, as people do when they go to mill. There was a decanter
of spirits also on the dinnertable, to help digestion, and gentlemen
partook of it through the afternoon and evening as they felt the need,
some more and some less; and the sideboard, with the spillings of
water, and sugar, and liquor, looked and smelled like the bar of a very
active grog-shop. None of the Consociation were drunk; but that there
was not, at times, a considerable amount of exhilaration, I can not
affirm.” It was Beecher’s judgment that “the tide was swelling in the
drinking habits of society.—” _Ibid._, p. 215.
[30] _Ibid._, vol. i, pp. 133, 138, 163, 255, 256, 371; vol. ii. pp.
294, 328 _et seq._
[31] _A Discourse on Some Events of the Last Century, delivered in the
Brick Church in New Haven, on Wednesday, January 7, 1801. By Timothy
Dwight, President of Yale College_, New Haven, 1801. _Cf._ this
author’s _Travels in New England and New York_, vol. iv, pp. 353 _et
seq._
[32] Dwight’s _Century Sermon_, p. 18.
[33] _Ibid._, pp. 18 _et seq._
[34] The testimony of a European traveller should prove as edifying
as that of an intimate participant in the country’s life. In 1788,
Brissot de Warville visited America. He remarked the change which had
come over the people of New England, of Boston in particular. The old
“Presbyterian austerity, which interdicted all pleasures, even that
of walking; which forbade travelling on Sunday, which persecuted men
whose opinions were different from their own” was no longer to be
encountered. Yet no evidence of the corruption of morals presented
itself to the distinguished traveller. On the contrary, he remarked the
general wholesomeness and soundness of domestic life, and the general
poise and temperance of a people which, “since the ancient puritan
austerity has disappeared”, was able to play cards without yielding
to the gambling instinct and to enjoy its clubs and parties without
offending the spirit of courtesy and good-breeding. The glow upon
the soul of Brissot as he contemplates the prosperity and unaffected
simplicity of the people of Boston is evident as he writes: “With
what pleasure did I contemplate this town, which first shook off the
English yoke! which, for a long time, resisted all the seductions, all
the menaces, all the horrors of a civil war! How I delighted to wander
up and down that long street, whose simple houses of wood border the
magnificent channel of Boston, and whose full stores offer me all the
productions of the continent which I had quitted! How I enjoyed the
activity of the merchants, the artizans, and the sailors! It was not
the noisy vortex of Paris; it was not the unquiet, eager mien of my
countrymen; it was the simple, dignified air of men, who are conscious
of liberty, and who see in all men their brothers and their equals.
Everything in this street bears the marks of a town still in its
infancy, but which, even in its infancy, enjoys a great prosperity....
Boston is just rising from the devastations of war, and its commerce is
flourishing; its manufactures, productions, arts, and sciences, offer a
number of curious and interesting observations.” (Brissot De Warville,
_New Travels in the United States of America_, pp. 70–82.) Equally
laudatory comment respecting the state of society in Connecticut is
made by Brissot (pp. 108, 109).
John Bernard, the English comedian, who was in this country at the
close of the eighteenth century, found the state of society very much
like that which he had left in his own country. “They wore the same
clothes, spoke the same language, and seemed to glow with the same
affable and hospitable feelings. In walking along the mall I could
scarcely believe I had not been whisked over to St. James’s Park; and
in their houses the last modes of London were observable in nearly
every article of ornament or utility. Other parts of the state were,
however, very different.” (Bernard, _Retrospections of America,
1797–1811_, p. 29.) Bernard found in New England abundant evidences of
progress such as he had not been accustomed to in England, and splendid
stamina of character (p. 30). Nothing, apparently, suggested to him
that the people were not virile and sound.
[35] Bentley, _Diary_, vol. i, pp. 253 _et seq._, discusses at length
“the Puerile Sports usual in these parts of New England”. Weeden,
_Economic and Social History of New England_, vol. ii, p. 696, comments
on the dearth of public amusement. _Cf._ also _ibid._, p. 864. The
changed attitude of the public toward dancing, as reported by Weeden,
pp. 696 and 864, doubtless finds its explanation in the growing
consciousness that the resources in the way of entertainment deserve to
be increased. At the close of the century, however, dancing was still
frowned upon. Bentley, _Diary_, vol. ii, pp. 17, 232, 233, 296, 322,
363.
[36] Brissot, _New Travels in the United States of America_, p. 72:
“Music, which their teachers formerly prescribed as a diabolic art,
begins to make part of their education. In some houses you hear the
forte-piano. This art, it is true, is still in its infancy; but the
young novices who exercise it, are so gentle, so complaisant, and so
modest, that the proud perfection of art gives no pleasure equal to
what they afford.” _Cf._ also Bentley, _Diary_, vol. ii, pp. 247 _et
seq._, 292.
[37] Brissot, _New Travels in the United States of America_, pp. 86 _et
seq._ Brissot generously explains this fact upon the ground that in a
country so new, whose immediate concerns were so compelling, and where,
also, wealth is not centered in a few hands, the cultivation of the
arts and sciences is not to be expected. On the side of invention the
situation was far from being as bad as a reading of Brissot might seem
to imply. Weeden, _Economic and Social History of New England_, vol.
ii, pp. 847–858.
[38] Goddard, _Studies in New England Transcendentalism_, p. 18.
While the passage cited deals with an earlier situation, the general
observation made concerning the well-poised character of the New
England type of mind is as valid for the close of the eighteenth
century as for the corresponding period of the preceding century; and
the failure of New England to take a “plunge ... from the moral heights
of Puritanism” is all the more impressive in the later period in view
of the variety and character of the new incitements and impulses which
the people of New England generally felt in the period following the
Revolution.
[39] Conspicuous in this group was the new merchant class. In the wake
of the Revolution came an industrial and commercial revival which
profoundly affected the life of New England. While the period of the
Confederation, on account of its political disorganization and the
chaotic state of public finance and the currency, was characterized
by extreme economic depression, on the other hand, the adoption of
the Constitution communicated to the centers of industry and commerce
a feeling of optimism. The sense that a federal government had been
formed, equal to the task of guaranteeing to its citizens the rights
and privileges of trade, gave early evidence that the economic
impulses of the country had been quickened notably. Such evidence is
too abundant and too well known either to permit or to require full
statement here, but the following is suggestive: The fisheries of New
England, which had been nearly destroyed during the Revolution, had
so far revived by 1789 that a total of 480 vessels, representing a
tonnage of 27,000, were employed in the industry. At least 32,000 tons
of shipping were built in the United States, a very large part of this
in New England, in 1791. Before the war the largest amount built in any
one year was 26,544 tons. But the record of 1791 was modest. From 1789
to 1810, American shipping increased from 202,000 to 1,425,000 tons.
Because of the federal government’s proclamation of strict neutrality
with regard to the wars abroad, the carrying trade of the world came
largely into the hands of shipowners and seamen of the United States,
with the result that the dockyards and wharves of New England fairly
hummed with activity. The exports of 1793 amounted to $33,026,233.
By 1799 they had mounted to $78,665,522, of which $33,142,522 was
the growth, produce, or manufacture of the Union. Within a very few
years after the adoption of the Constitution, American merchants had
become the warehousers and distributors of merchandise to all parts
of the world. The wharves of New England were covered with goods from
Europe, the Orient, the West Indies, and from the looms, shops, and
distilleries of the nation. Directed by resourceful and far-sighted
men who had the instinct for commercial expansion, ships sailed from
New England ports for Batavia, Canton, Calcutta, St. Petersburg,
Port Louis. They carried with them coffee, fish, flour, provisions,
tobacco, rum, iron, cattle, horses; they brought back molasses, sugar,
wine, indigo, pepper, salt, muslins, calicoes, silks, hemp, duck. The
situation is dealt with in detail by Bishop, _History of American
Manufactures_, vol. ii, pp. 13–82; Clark, _History of Manufactures in
the United States_, pp. 227 _et seq._; Weeden, _Economic and Social
History of New England_, vol. ii, pp. 816–857.
[40] Winsor, _The Memorial History of Boston_, vol. iii, pp. 191, 203;
Morse, _The Federalist Party in Massachusetts_, pp. 37, 38; _Harvard
Theological Review_, January, 1916, p. 104.
[41] Weeden, _Early Life in Rhode Island_, pp. 357 _et seq._, calls
attention to the spacious and elegant houses which were built at
Providence about 1790, and to the new group of merchants which the
expansion of trans-oceanic commerce called into existence there.
Weeden, _Economic and Social History of New England_, pp. 821 _et
seq._, deals with the situation in a larger way.
[42] Parker, _History of the Second Church of Christ in Hartford_,
p. 172. The passage contains a vivid picture of the state of polite
society in an important Connecticut center. Love, _The Colonial
History of Hartford_, pp. 244 _et seq._, deals with the transformation
of social life with particular reference to the disintegration of
Puritanism.
[43] An outcry against the excesses of fashion began to make itself
heard. “An Old Farmer,” writing to the _Massachusetts Spy_, March 27,
1799, complains on account of the consequent drain upon the purses of
husbands and fathers: “I am a plain farmer, and therefore beg leave to
trouble you with a little plain language. By the dint of industry, and
application to agricultural concerns, I have, till lately, made out to
keep square with the world. But the late scarcity of money, together
with the extravagance of fashions have nearly ruined me.... I am by no
means tenacious of the _old way_, or of _old fashions_. I know that my
family must dress different from what I used to when I was young; yet
as I have the interest of husbands and fathers at heart, I wish there
might be some reformation in the present mode of female dress.... In
better times, six or seven yards of Calico would serve to make a gown;
but now fourteen yards are scarcely sufficient. I do not perceive that
women grow any larger now than formerly.... A few years since, my
daughters were not too proud to wear good calfskin shoes; two pair of
which would last them a year: But now none will suit them but morroco,
and these must be of the slenderest kind.... Young ladies used to be
contented with wearing nothing on their heads but what Nature gave
them.... But now they dare not appear in company, unless they have half
a bushel of gauze, and other stuff, stuck on their heads”. The letter
closes with a humorous account of the writer’s embarrassing experience
with the trains of the ladies’ dresses on the occasion of a recent
visit to church.
[44] Swift, Lindsay, _The Massachusetts Election Sermons_ (Publications
of the Colonial Society of Massachusetts, vol. i, Transactions,
1892–1894), pp. 428 _et seq._
[45] Weeden, _Economic and Social History of New England_, vol. ii, pp.
864 _et seq._
[46] Scudder, _Recollections of Samuel Breck, with Passages from His
Note-Books_, pp. 178 _et seq._ Breck visited New England about 1791. He
was impressed with the looseness of life and gross lawlessness which
he saw. A fairer judgment appears on page 182: “The severe, gloomy
puritanical spirit that had governed New England since the days of the
Pilgrim forefathers was gradually giving way in the principal towns”,
_etc._
2. OMINOUS DISCONTENT WITH THE STANDING ORDER
The general impression of a revolt against morality and religion in
New England near the close of the eighteenth century was deepened
by the bitterness of spirit which marked the last stages of the
long struggle waged by dissenters to cut the bond between church
and state.[47] The Congregational Church was one of the fundamental
institutions of New England, and from the first the sword of the
magistrate had been invoked to enforce conformity to its worship and
polity. Strange enough seem the terms “Establishment” and “Standing
Order”[48] in the history of a people whose forefathers came to America
in quest of religious freedom. The freedom sought, however, was to be
construed as loyalty to a new order rather than as the embodiment of
tolerance. Thus it happened that for two whole centuries the battle on
behalf of the rights of dissent had to be waged in New England.[49]
To have this struggle construed by the aggrieved representatives of
the Establishment as the crowning expression of what they had come to
regard as the deep-seated and widespread irreligion of the age, was
not the least of the bitter taunts which dissenters had to bear.
(a) _Massachusetts_
In Massachusetts the eighteenth century dawned with some faint
promise of a kindlier day. The Charter of 1691 granted full liberty
of conscience to all Christians except Roman Catholics.[50] The
practical effects of this apparently sweeping reform were largely
nullified, however, when in the following year the General Court made
it obligatory for each town to have a minister for whose support all
its inhabitants should be taxed.[51] With the removal of all bonds upon
conscience and of all religious restrictions upon the right of suffrage
on the one hand, but with the principle of enforced support of the
institutions of religion on the other, the hallowed union of church
and state in Massachusetts obviously stood in no immediate danger. The
slight modifications speedily made in the law of 1692 did not touch the
principle of taxation in the interests of religious worship.[52]
A measure of relief came to the Episcopalians in 1727,[53] and to the
Quakers and Baptists in 1728,[54] in the form of exemption laws. In
the case of the Baptists the exemption granted was not absolute, but
only for a limited period of years. With the expiration of this period
the struggle for relief of necessity had to be renewed.[55] The rights
of dissent had begun to receive some recognition, but the limitations
embodied in the foregoing legislation bore convincing testimony of a
grudging temper of mind which would yield no ground without strong
pressure.
The spirit of excitement and controversy which characterized the
revival of religion of the third and fourth decades of the eighteenth
century (_i. e._, the Great Awakening) led to new complications and
difficulties. Stirred by the revival, itinerant preachers, some of them
of little learning and of less tact, invaded parishes of their clerical
brethren without their consent, and presumed to censure the ministers
and congregations that had not yielded to the emotional impulses of the
revival.[56] A clash of parties followed, producing new antipathies and
cleavages. Many who were in sympathy with the revival withdrew from
orthodox congregations to organize new churches, nominally Baptist,
with a view to obtaining exemption from the obligation to support
the state church. To meet this evasion in 1752 the General Court of
Massachusetts passed an act which provided
That no person for the future shall be so esteemed an A(n)nabaptist
as to have his poll or polls and estate exempted from paying a
proportionable part of the taxes that shall be raised in the
town or place where he or they belong, but such whose names shall
be contained in the lists taken by the assessors, as in said act
provided, or such as shall produce a certificate, under the hands
of the minister and of two principal members of such church,
setting forth that they conscientiously believe such person or
persons to be of their perswasion, and that he or they usually and
frequently attend the publick worship in such church on Lord’s
days.[57]
A further provision of the act denied to Baptist ministers and their
parishioners the right of furnishing the required certificates unless
three other Baptist churches previously should have certified that the
persons granting the certificates were regarded as members of that
body.[58] To make the situation more galling, if that were possible,
certificates so obtained had to be lodged annually with the town clerk
before the time to pay the rates arrived.
From every point of view this legislation was objectionable to
the Baptists. Their protest was instant and vigorous.[59] It was
decided to send one of their number as agent to England, to carry
their case before the government of the mother country.[60] A sharp
remonstrance, so plain in its language that its signers came very
near being taken into custody, was drawn up and presented to the
General Court at Boston.[61] But great as was the sense of injustice
under which the Baptists smarted, the operations of the act appear
to have been most severe in the case of those who had drawn off from
the orthodox churches on account of the disturbances created by the
Great Awakening. The position of these Separatists[62] was peculiarly
vulnerable. Baptist leaders found themselves embarrassed when called
upon to certify to the Baptist affiliations of the Separatists; such a
distasteful judgment of the motives and scruples of others was to be
avoided wherever possible.[63] On the other hand, if the Separatists
sought to set up churches and establish ministers of their own, they
were confronted by the fact that a second Congregational church could
not be formed in a parish without legislative permission, and the
orthodox party usually showed itself capable of forestalling all such
sanction on the part of the state. It was left, therefore, to the
Separatists either for conscience’ sake to bear the double burden of
taxation,[64] or to seek a permanent religious home in one of the
recognized dissenting bodies.[65]
Five years later, when the exemption law of 1752 expired and with it
the exemption laws that previously had been passed for the relief of
the Quakers, a new law was enacted governing both sects.[66] Henceforth
a Baptist who desired exemption must have his name upon a list to be
presented annually to the assessor and signed by the minister and three
principal members of the Baptist congregation to which the applicant
belonged, with the accompanying certification that the applicant was
recognized as a conscientious and faithful Baptist. Quakers were
placed under the same regulations. For thirteen years this law was in
operation, with manifold instances of distress resulting, particularly
in the case of Baptists.[67] Through difficulty in obtaining the
certificates, goods were seized, expensive and otherwise irritating
court trials were held, and not a few victims, either because of
poverty or on account of conscientious scruples, found their way to
prison. In some instances, despite the fact that the certificates were
duly obtained and presented, they were waved aside and the payment of
the tax required or the process of distraint invoked.[68] It is little
wonder that the feeling in the minds and hearts of New England Baptists
that there was a spirit of iniquity back of the oppressive measures
of the Standing Order, came to have all the significance of a settled
conviction.[69]
Further modifications in the exemption laws, made in 1770, were so
slight, leaving as they did the certificate principle practically
untouched,[70] that Baptist opposition was aroused even more deeply
and the determination struck deeper root to push the battle for
religious freedom to a decision. The times also were propitious. The
near approach of the Revolutionary struggle focused attention upon the
subject of tyranny and caused acts of oppression, whether civil or
ecclesiastical in character, to stand out in a new relief before the
eye of the public. That dissenters were quick to see the bearing of
political events will appear from the following pithy comments in the
address which the Committee of Grievances[71] drew up late in 1774 and
presented to the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts:
It seems that the two main rights which all America are contending
for at this time, are,—Not to be taxed where they are not
represented, and—To have their causes tried by unbiased judges. And
the Baptist churches in this province as heartily unite with their
countrymen in this cause, as any denomination in the land; and
are as ready to exert all their abilities to defend it. Yet only
because they have thought it to be their duty to claim an equal
title to these rights with their neighbors, they have repeatedly
been accused of evil attempts against the general welfare of the
colony; therefore, we have thought it expedient to lay a brief
statement of the case before this assembly.... Great complaints
have been made about a tax which the British parliament laid upon
paper; but you require a paper tax of us annually. That which has
made the greatest noise, is the tax of three pence a pound upon
tea; but your law of last June laid a tax of the same sum every
year upon the Baptists in each parish, as they would expect to
defend themselves against a greater one.... All America is alarmed
at the tea tax; though, if they please, they can avoid it by
not buying tea; but we have no such liberty. We must either pay
the little tax, or else your people appear even in this time of
extremity determined to lay the great one upon us. But these lines
are to let you know, that we are determined not to pay either of
them; not only upon your principle of not being taxed where we are
not represented, but also because we dare not render homage to any
earthly power, which I and many of my brethren are fully convinced
belongs only to God. We can not give the certificates you require,
without implicitly allowing to men that authority which we believe
in our conscience belongs only to God. Here, therefore, we claim
charter rights, liberty of conscience.[72]
As the event proved, the Revolutionary period brought little
legislative relief to dissenters in Massachusetts. Wherever the
distractions of the war did not interrupt the ordinary course of
ecclesiastical affairs, the state church continued to assert its
time-honored prerogatives. The new constitution of the commonwealth
which was adopted in 1780 gave conclusive proof that the Standing Order
still had the situation well in hand. That instrument contained a
bill of rights which reaffirmed the authority of the legislature to
authorize and require the various towns and parishes “to make suitable
provision, at their own expense, for the institution of the public
worship of God”;[73] affirmed also that the legislature had authority
to enjoin attendance upon public worship; that towns and parishes were
to have the right to elect their ministers and make contracts with them
for their support; and that moneys, in the form of rates paid by the
people in the support of public worship, were to be applied according
to the preference of the rate-payer, “provided, there be any [minister]
on whose instructions he attends”; otherwise the minister selected by
the town or parish was to receive the benefit of the tax.[74] There is
no difficulty in discerning here the outlines of the old ideal of a
state church. The day of deliverance for dissent was not yet.[75]
What did take place during the Revolutionary period to promote the
cause of religious freedom and to hasten the day of its triumph was the
publication of various pamphlets and treatises devoted to the cause
of toleration or championing the closely allied cause of democracy in
church and state.[76] Several of these[77] were from the pen of the
indomitable Isaac Backus, whose unwearied advocacy of the rights of
the individual conscience was exceeded by none. The likeness of the
struggle which dissenters were making for freedom of conscience to
that which the colonists were making for civil liberty was a favorite
notion of this doughty penman; and such an argument presented when the
imaginations of his countrymen were stirred by the political situation,
could not fail of its appeal. Three years before the war broke out, in
his _Appeal to the Public for Religious Liberty_, Backus had drawn for
the benefit of the public a sharp distinction between the spheres of
ecclesiastical and civil governments. The former was armed only with
_light_ and _truth_, and was commissioned to “pull down the strongholds
of iniquity,” to gather into Christ’s church those who were willing to
be governed by His teachings, and to exclude those who would not be so
governed; while the latter “is armed with _the sword to guard the peace
and to punish those who violate the same_.”[78] In his _Government
and Liberty Described, and Ecclesiastical Tyranny Exposed_, published
in 1778, he attacked the notion of men “assuming a power to govern
religion, instead of being governed by it,” and asserted that the
essence of true religion is a voluntary obedience to God.[79] Here was
strong meat for a people for whom the word freedom was rapidly coming
to have an enlarged signification.
The most convincing exposition of the democratic tendencies of the
age came from another quarter, and in a sense belonged to the past.
Spurred by the fact that at the beginning of the century a resolute
effort had been made, both in Massachusetts and Connecticut, to obtain
more compact and rigid ecclesiastical control,[80] the Reverend John
Wise, of Ipswich, Massachusetts, in 1710 had issued a satirical tract
entitled, _The Churches’ Quarrel Espoused_, and later, in 1717, a
more serious production entitled, _A Vindication of the Government
of the New England Churches_. In 1772 a new edition of these tracts,
published by subscription, came from the Boston press.[81] The enduring
quality of the task Wise had performed is shown by the fact that, while
these two slight volumes had been conceived as a protest against the
encroachments of ecclesiastical tyranny in the first two decades of the
century, they now, a half-century later, served equally well to voice
the deep passions and impulses of a people who for the moment were
engrossed in the concerns of civil government.[82] Wise rejected the
ideals of monarchy and aristocracy for the church, and took his stand
upon the proposition that democracy alone stands the test of reason and
revelation.[83] Of all systems, democracy alone cherishes the precious
interests of man’s original liberty and equality. It alone serves
effectually to restrain the disposition to prey and embezzle, and to
keep the administration of government firmly fixed upon the main
point, “the peculiar good and benefit of the whole.” “It is as plain as
daylight, there are no species of government like a democracy to attain
this end.”[84]
Such literary assaults upon the usurpations of government, upon the
violation of individual rights, and upon obstructions erected in
the path of democracy, were frontal. As has been said, they were
also happily timed. The oppressed would have to content themselves a
little longer with a type of toleration which seemed but the shadow
of genuine freedom; but the broad dissemination of such principles as
those proclaimed by Backus and Wise had had the effect of altering
appreciably the spirit of the times.
The close of the struggle for political freedom gave early proof
that the cause of religious toleration had passed into a new stage.
Dissent had grown in numbers and influence.[85] Distant voices, too,
were being heard. Virginia’s noble example in adopting the _Act
Establishing Religious Freedom_ had given a practical demonstration
of the complete severance of church and state. The impression created
by this determination of the issue of religious freedom on the
broadest possible basis had been profound throughout the country.
When the Constitution of the United States was before the people of
Massachusetts for ratification, in the fall and winter of 1787–88,
they found in it a single provision concerning religion. Article VI
provided: “No religious test shall ever be required as a qualification
to any office or public trust in the United States.” So far had the
eyes of dissenters in Massachusetts been opened to dangers lurking in
legislative measures that a large proportion of the Baptist delegates
in the state constitutional convention voted against the adoption of
the instrument.[86] Besides, their hearts were set on some broad and
yet specific guarantee of religious freedom under which their liberties
would be safe. The First Amendment to the Constitution, which Congress
proposed in 1789, seemed to fulfil their desire. It provided that
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or
prohibiting the free exercise thereof.” With the adoption of this law
by the majority of the states, the principle of full liberty of mind,
conscience, and worship, had been written finally into the law of the
land.
Yet this pronouncement of the national government could not bring to a
full end the long struggle which had been waged. Only the sphere of the
federal government was involved, and individual states were still free
to deal with the institutions of religion and the rights of individuals
as they might feel disposed, as long as the national welfare was not
involved.[87] What actually happened in Massachusetts is well expressed
by Isaac Backus: “The amendment about liberty of conscience is kept
out of sight.”[88] The goods of Baptists continued to be levied upon
to meet the ministerial tax.[89] Dissensions continued to arise in
parishes over the settlement and support of ministers, dissenting
minorities usually contesting the right of the majority to saddle upon
them clergymen for whose ministrations they had no desire.[90] The
annoyances and disabilities that dissenters and disaffected members of
the Establishment suffered were clearly not so numerous nor so severe
as they had been in the past;[91] none the less they were able to keep
alive the impression that nothing but a spirit of bigotry and obdurate
tyranny could explain the prolonged attitude and policy of the Standing
Order.[92]
(b) _Connecticut_
Before directing attention to the effect which this weakening of the
forces of ecclesiastical domination had upon the minds of the leaders
of the Establishment, it will be necessary to review briefly the course
which affairs took in Connecticut.[93]
Despite the fact that the founding of Connecticut had directly resulted
from the ecclesiasticism of Massachusetts, the forces of ecclesiastical
tyranny proved to be more strongly entrenched in Connecticut than in
the parent state.[94] This was due in part to the homogeneity of the
population,[95] but more largely to the degree of oversight of the
religious life of the people, unusual even for Puritan New England,
which the General Court of Connecticut exercised from the first.[96] In
this connection it is to be observed that the impulses that lay back of
the oppression of dissenters in Connecticut were not the same as those
that shaped the situation in Massachusetts. The founders of Connecticut
were out of sympathy with the theocratic ideal that prevailed in the
mother colony; they frowned upon the harsh measures of repression which
the authorities of Massachusetts adopted.[97] They held before them the
ideal of a state wherein the maintenance of religion and the exercise
of individual freedom should not be incompatible.
Yet as the event proved, the hand of religious tyranny fell heavily
upon their posterity.[98] This happened, not because they were
disposed to exercise harsher repressive measures than their fathers in
curbing dissent, but because, in their extraordinary devotion to the
churches of their own order, in their extreme care and watchfulness to
strengthen them and to safeguard the whole range of their interests,
they came into open conflict with the interests of dissenting
bodies.[99] As early as 1669 the Congregational church was formally
adopted as the state church.[100] From that day forward an intimate
and intense paternalism characterized the attitude of the civil
government toward the Establishment. Its most serious and permanent,
as well as its lighter and occasional concerns, all were provided for
with equal constancy. Contingencies of every description were either
prudently anticipated or, arising suddenly, received the immediate and
painstaking attention of the magistrates.[101]
The following list, though far from complete, will serve to illustrate
this point. Without the consent of the General Court, churches could
not be organized,[102] nor bonds be severed between pastors and their
flocks.[103] The formation of new parishes and the fixing of their
limits,[104] the calling of new ministers,[105] the determination
of the time at which arrearages in ministers’ salaries must be paid
fully,[106] the fixing of the location of new houses of worship,[107]
the disposition of cases of discipline appealed from the decisions of
local church courts,[108] the settlement of the question as to who
were to be permitted to receive the Lord’s Supper,[109] the proffer
of counsel concerning the behavior offended members were expected to
manifest toward pastors for whom they entertained no affection nor
respect[110]—these all were regarded as part of the proper business of
the General Court.
The dangers inherent in such a system are not difficult to divine.
The churches themselves upon which such paternal legislative care was
imposed generally found their affairs taken out of their hands. Civil
authority disciplined them and their members, and made independent
ecclesiastical rule little more than a fiction. Again, the committal
of the political government to a particular type of religious polity
and worship aroused antagonisms in the minds of men who hated the
palest shadow of the principle that the religion of a prince or
government must be the religion of the people. However tolerant toward
non-conformity such a state may show itself to be—and none will
deny that Connecticut rose to comparatively high levels of justice
in this regard[111]—the favoritism of government puts dissent at a
disadvantage; and when narrow and intolerant men are at the helm of
state, disadvantage passes rapidly into positive deprivation and
injury. Once more, so close an alliance between politics and religion
as the Standing Order in Connecticut represented, invites similar
combinations on the part of men, some of whom have political and
some religious objects to serve, and who, therefore, in the presence
of a common foe gladly make common cause. All of which we shall see
illustrated later.
Another general aspect of the situation in Connecticut concerns the
development of synodical government within the Congregational church.
At the beginning of the eighteenth century, out of a sense of the
decay of religion in New England, as evidenced by the loosening of
discipline and the weakening of ministerial influence,[112] the
clergy of Massachusetts attempted to buttress church government
and ministerial authority through the “Proposals of 1705.” These
provided for the grouping of ministers in Associations which were to
function in the following ways: pastors were to adopt their advice
in all difficult cases; ministerial candidates were to be examined
and licensed by them; pastorless, or “bereaved” churches were to be
urged to apply to them for candidates; they were also to exercise
a general oversight of religion, and to inquire into charges made
against the character, conduct, or faith of any of their members. The
“Proposals” also made provision for Standing Councils to be made up
of delegates from these Ministerial Associations and lay members of
the churches. These Standing Councils were “to consult, advise, and
determine all affairs that shall be proper matter for the consideration
of an ecclesiastical council within their respective limits.” Their
judgments were to be accepted as final and obedience was to be enforced
on penalty of forfeiting church-fellowship.[113] This bold step in the
direction of bringing the churches of Massachusetts under more rigorous
ecclesiastical control was not destined to succeed. Liberalizing
elements stirred up powerful opposition, the legislature failed to give
to the “Proposals” its support, and the movement fell through.[114]
A very different situation developed in Connecticut. The yearning for
the strengthening of church government in the interests of a general
improvement of religion was if anything stronger in that commonwealth;
and a propitious hour for the inauguration of such a movement came
when, in 1707, the most influential minister of the colony, Gurdon
Saltonstall, of New London, was raised to the governor’s chair. The
following May the General Court issued the call for the famous Saybrook
Synod.[115] Ministers and messengers of the churches were to assemble
in their respective county towns, “on the last Monday in June next ...
to consider and agree upon those methods and rules for the management
of ecclesiastical discipline which by them shall be judged agreeable
and conformable to the word of God.”[116] By these county councils
ministers and delegates were to be chosen to meet at Saybrook, at the
commencement of the “infant college” (_i. e._, Yale), there “to compare
the results of the ministers of the several counties, and out of them
and from them to draw a form of ecclesiastical discipline which by two
or more persons delegated by them shall be offered to this Court ... to
be considered of and confirmed by them.”[117]
The directions of the General Court were complied with. The doctrinal
results of the Saybrook Synod are no part of our concern; but this is
not so with regard to its ecclesiastical formulations. The principles
contained in the “Proposals of 1705” were accepted and worked out in
more complete detail. Churches were to be grouped in Consociations,
one or more in each county as the churches might determine. Cases of
discipline too difficult of management in local congregations were to
be heard and determined by these Consociations. Refusal to answer to
the summons of a Consociation, or to submit to its decision, incurred
excommunication, whether a church or a pastor might be the guilty
party. All matters relating to the installation, ordination, and
dismissal of ministers were to be submitted by the churches to these
Consociations. In like manner the ministers of the various counties
were to be grouped together in Associations to consult concerning
the affairs of the church, provide ministerial licensure, examine
complaints, and make recommendations to the legislature concerning the
settlement of pastors with “bereaved” churches.[118]
The result of the deliberations of the Saybrook Synod was laid duly
before the sessions of the General Court, in October, 1708, and
formally adopted by that body in the following terms:
This Assembly do declare their great approbation of such a
happy agreement, and do ordain that all the churches within
this government that are or shall be thus united in doctrine,
worship, and discipline, be, and for the future shall be owned and
acknowledged established by law. Provided always, that nothing
herein shall be intended and construed to hinder or prevent any
society or church that is or shall be allowed by the laws of this
government, who soberly differ or dissent from the united churches
hereby established, from exercising worship and discipline in their
own way, according to their consciences.[119]
This reëstablishment of the Congregational church in Connecticut
determined the course of events, as far as the religious interests of
the commonwealth were concerned, for a hundred years to come. By this
it is not meant that the ecclesiastical system which was thus worked
out and imposed upon the churches of the colony continued to operate
in full force for that period; the Saybrook Platform was abrogated in
1784. But the Congregational church in Connecticut, by the act of 1708,
“attained the height of its security and power,”[120] and, as one of
the chief consequences of the act, ministerial domination was accorded
a recognition and support, the tradition of which outlived by at least
a quarter of a century the system by which it had been so firmly
established.
Thus to the paternalism of the state the authority and sense of
importance of the clergy had been added. These principles established,
it was to be expected that the religious history of Connecticut during
the eighteenth century would reveal the following characteristics
and tendencies: a disposition on the part of the state to treat the
clergy of the Establishment as the pillars of conservative thought
and custom; and a disposition on the part of the clergy to exercise a
controlling hand over all the religious activities of the people, as
well as to react violently against all radical impulses and movements
which appeared to endanger centralization of government, whether
ecclesiastical or political. Certainly these were the tendencies,
expressed in the attitude of mind and the activities of the Standing
Order, with which the forces of non-conformity and democracy had to
contend throughout the whole of the century.
We may now turn to take a brief survey of the more important events
in the course of this conflict. The concluding statement of the act
whereby the Connecticut General Court adopted the recommendations of
the Saybrook Synod,[121] gave evidence of a tender regard for the
consciences and rights of dissenters which subsequent occurrences far
from justified. The fact is, the act of reëstablishment did not stand
alone. Earlier in the same year (1708) the General Court had written
into the law of the colony another statute whose provisions were in
no way affected by the later act. For the worthy object of granting
liberty of worship to sober dissenters, a liberty which they were to
be permitted to enjoy “without let, or hindrance or molestation,” it
was provided that dissenting congregations were to qualify (_i. e._,
obtain license) under the law.[122] It was likewise provided that this
permission to qualify should in no way operate to the prejudice of the
rights and privileges of the churches of the Establishment, or “to the
excusing any person from paying any such minister or town dues, as are
now, or shall hereafter be due from them.”[123] This double burden of
obtaining license and supporting the state church was not to be borne
easily. An agitation to obtain relief promptly began.[124]
After two decades of effort the Episcopalians were the first to meet
with any measure of success. Henceforth their rate money was to be
spent in the support of their own ministers and they were no longer to
be required to help build meeting-houses for the state church.[125] Two
years later, relief was granted to Baptists and Quakers. The exemption
laws passed in their behalf, however, made necessary the presentation
of certificates vouching for the claims of the holders that they were
conscientious supporters of the principles and faithful attendants upon
the worship of one or the other of these bodies.[126]
The introduction of the custom of requiring certificates encountered
the same sense of injustice and bitter resentment that dissenters in
Massachusetts manifested. Besides, the exemption laws just referred
to failed to operate in a uniform and equitable manner. Episcopalians
and Baptists, particularly, found frequent occasion to complain of the
miscarriage of this legislation and to groan under the double burden of
taxation from which they had obtained no actual relief.[127]
But as in Massachusetts, so in Connecticut, the greatest hardships
befell the Separatists who went out from the fold of the orthodox
church. Unable to achieve within the Establishment that reformation
of doctrine, polity, and spiritual life which they deemed requisite,
they associated themselves together in churches committed to their own
convictions. Opposition confronted them at every turn. Obstructions
were thrown in the way of their efforts to obtain legal permission to
constitute their churches; the civil power persisted in treating them
as law-breakers and incorrigibles; their ministers were drastically
dealt with by Consociations which regarded them as wicked men filled
with the spirit of insubordination.[128] A group of laws as severe and
intolerant as any the statute books of Connecticut ever contained were
enacted in 1742–43 to curb and if possible to eradicate the Separatist
defection.[129] Ordained ministers were forbidden to preach outside
the bounds of their parishes unless expressly invited so to do.[130]
Ministerial Associations were restrained from licensing candidates to
preach outside the territorial jurisdiction of the Association granting
licensure.[131] Ministers of the Establishment were empowered to lodge
certificates with society clerks, attesting that men had entered
their parishes and preached therein without first having received
permission. No provision for ascertaining the facts in such cases
was contemplated by the law. Justices of the peace were forbidden to
sign a warrant authorizing the collection of a minister’s rates until
they were assured that no such certificate had been lodged against the
clergyman involved.[132] Heavy bonds were to be imposed upon ministers
from outside the colony who might venture to preach within its limits
without invitation, with the added provision that such men were to
be treated as vagrants and bundled out of the colony as speedily as
possible.[133] Ministers who had not been graduated from Yale or
Harvard, or some other Protestant college or university, were debarred
from all benefits of ministerial support as provided by law.[134]
The climax of the high-handed measures of the supporters of the
Establishment was doubtless reached in this legislation. A retrograde
movement in the cause of religious toleration set in,[135] the direct
effects of which were not quickly overcome. Henceforth dissenters were
to be annoyed and hampered as they had not been before. The necessity
of appearing in person before the General Court when seeking exemption
from ecclesiastical burdens,[136] the embarrassments and hardships that
dissenting ministers suffered in their efforts to supply religious
counsel to their people,[137] the growing aversion of the General
Court to granting permission to unorthodox and dissenting groups to
organize,[138] all serve to indicate the strength of the reaction that
had set in.
The impressions produced by this excess were even more significant than
the direct results, deplorable as the latter were.[139] In the middle
of the eighteenth century the Standing Order in Connecticut had gained
for themselves an unenviable record for bigotry and persecution from
which the events of the latter half of the century by no means cleared
them.
For a quarter of a century following the enactment of the legislative
measures just considered, no advance step, general in its nature, was
taken. Here and there a little larger measure of freedom was doled
out to this or that aggrieved dissenting minister or church; but the
situation as a whole was not materially changed. “Restriction was
the rule, freedom the exception, and government the absolute and
irresponsible dispenser of both.”[140] Finally, in 1778 some evidence
that a change in sentiment was under way appeared in the fact that
Separatists were exempted from taxes to support the state church.
Six years later, in 1784, more satisfactory proof was forthcoming.
That year, by the passing of an act entitled, “An Act for Securing
the Rights of Conscience in Matters of Religion, to Christians of
Every Denomination in this State,”[141] the General Court tacitly
abrogated the Saybrook Platform and set the institutions of religion in
Connecticut upon a new base. The act declared
That no Persons in this State, professing the Christian Religion,
who soberly and conscientiously dissent from the Worship and
Ministry by Law established in the Society wherein they dwell, and
attend public Worship by themselves shall incur any Penalty for not
attending the Worship and Ministry so established, on the Lord’s
Day, or on account of their meeting together by themselves on said
Day, for public Worship in a Way agreeable to their consciences.
It was further declared that Christians of every Protestant
denomination, “whether Episcopal Church, of those Congregationalists
called Separates, or of the people called Baptists, or Quakers, or
any other Denomination who shall have formed themselves in distinct
Churches or Congregations,” and who helped to maintain their worship,
were to be exempted from the support of any other church than their
own. Further, all such dissenting congregations were to enjoy the same
power and privileges in the support of their ministry, and in the
building and repairing of their houses of worship, as those churches
which were established by law. Such persons as did not belong to any of
these dissenting bodies were to be taxed for the support of the state
church.[142]
The spirit of toleration had traveled far; but that the struggle for
complete religious freedom was yet by no means won will immediately
appear from the following restrictions: (1) Protestants only were
contemplated as beneficiaries under the act; (2) the principle of
taxation for the support of the state church was retained; (3) the
obligation to support some form of Christian worship was required;
(4) the benefits of that provision of the act which guaranteed to
dissenters exemption from ecclesiastical taxation were to be available
only on the condition that a certificate, signed by an officer of a
dissenting congregation, should be deposited with the clerk of the
state church near which the dissenter lived.
A formidable number of the objectionable features of the older
legislation were thus retained. The state church was still in
existence. Taxation for the support of religion was still the law of
the commonwealth. Dissenters were still compelled to put themselves to
the trouble and humiliation of obtaining the detested certificates.
Besides, the ghost of religious persecution was not yet laid. Goods
and chattels of the religiously indifferent, or of conscientious
dissenters, continued to be seized and sold by officers of the
law, to discharge unsatisfied levies made for the support of the
Establishment.[143]
The principle of requiring certificates proved to be the chief bone of
contention between the Standing Order and dissenters as the century
drew to its close. The rapid growth of dissenting bodies in the period
following the Revolution, aided as they were by a zeal for proselyting
on the part of their leaders and by a set of the public mind decidedly
favorable to their propaganda because of their democratic leanings,
was met by corresponding anxiety and sternness on the part of the
supporters of the Establishment. Confusing, as they habitually did,
the interests of the state church with the cause of religion, the
representatives of the Standing Order led themselves to believe that
a contagion of irreligion was spreading alarmingly, and therefore
restrictive religious legislation was in order.[144] In line with this
conviction, in May, 1791, the legislature enacted a law requiring
dissenters to have their certificates signed by at least one, and
preferably two, civil officers, instead of as provided in the act of
1784. This law proved peculiarly distasteful to dissenters.[145] A
powerful opposition developed; and the authorities, made aware of the
fact that they had over-reached themselves, six months later withdrew
the obnoxious act, substituting for it another which permitted each
dissenter to write and sign his own certificate, but requiring him,
as before, to file it with the clerk of the state church near which
he lived.[146] The momentary wrath of dissenters was thus mollified;
however, the retention of the certificate principle continued to gall
and to excite them. A disagreeable discussion dragged itself along,
marked by acrimony, pettiness, and personal attacks on both sides; by a
consolidation of the forces and interests of dissenters and Republicans
on the one hand, and a growing sense of injured innocence and of
concern for the fate of religion on the part of the Standing Order.[147]
(c) _Summary_
By way of summary, a few general comments, based upon the situation in
Massachusetts and Connecticut jointly considered, are now in order.
Looking back upon the activities of the Standing Order after the lapse
of something more than a century, we see that they were zealously
contending for an ideal which had won their whole allegiance—a body
politic safeguarded and made secure by a state church. To prevent
deterioration of the state and its people the bulwark of a religion
established by law seemed imperative.[148] The interests involved were
far too serious to put them at the mercy of a voluntary support of the
institutions of religion.[149] Moreover, an established church seemed
to this group of men no necessary enemy of non-conformity. The degree
of toleration possible under an establishment of religion was deemed
sufficient actually to favor the growth of sects, and at the same time
to make the sway of orthodoxy secure.[150]
How, then, were men of such opinions to interpret the ever-growing
agitation for a larger measure of toleration, accompanied as it
was by an ever-growing resentment toward the political influence
and activities of the Standing Order, as anything other than a
covert attack upon religion itself? These bitter complainings over
the religious measures adopted by government, these flauntings of
authority through stubborn refusal or passive resistance to the payment
of ecclesiastical rates, these unrelenting efforts to dispossess
the clergy of the Establishment of their traditional honors and
emoluments—what were they all but so many proofs of the impiety of the
age and an abominable conspiracy to drive pure religion from the land?
As the representatives of the Standing Order saw the situation, the
church was obviously in grave danger and to steady the tottering ark of
the Lord was the most imperative duty of the hour.
On the other hand, in the light of the growing liberality of the times,
it was impossible for the forces of dissent to be patient with such
men. They were men of the past, callously unresponsive to the spirit of
the new age. They were an embittered minority, exerting themselves to
keep a struggling and confident majority a little longer under their
thumb. They were mischievous meddlers in the affairs of others, using
religion as a cloak to hide their social and political self-seeking.
As for the cry, “The church is in danger!”, that was to be regarded as
the most signal proof of the hypocrisy of those who raised it.[151]
FOOTNOTES:
[47] Lauer, _Church and State in New England_ (Johns Hopkins University
Studies in History and Political Science. Tenth Series), pp. 95 _et
seq._
[48] The term “Standing Order” was generally employed in the speech and
literature of the period, and had reference to the alliance between the
party of the Establishment and the party of the government.
[49] The scope of inquiry prescribed by the special object of this
dissertation renders both unnecessary and unprofitable the tracing
of this struggle in detail. Valuable special studies in this field
are available. Among these the following are to be commended as
of exceptional usefulness: Burrage, _A History of the Baptists in
New England_; Greene, _The Development of Religious Liberty in
Connecticut_; Reed, _Church and State in Massachusetts, 1691–1740_;
Cobb, _The Rise of Religious Liberty in America_; Ford, _New England’s
Struggle for Religious Liberty_. Lauer’s excellent treatise has already
been cited. Of contemporaneous treatments, Backus, _A History of New
England, with Particular Reference to the Denomination of Christians
called Baptists_, though deficient in literary merit, is doubtless the
most trustworthy and replete. The citations made from the latter work
refer, unless otherwise indicated, to the edition of 1871 (2 vols.).
[50] _The Charter Granted by Their Majesties King William and Queen
Mary, to the Inhabitants of the Massachusetts-Bay in New-England_,
Boston in New England, 1726, p. 9. The principle of church membership
as a qualification for voting was set aside for a property
qualification.
[51] Backus, _History of New England_, vol. i, pp. 446 _et seq._ _Cf._
Reed, _Church and State in Massachusetts_, 1691–1740, pp. 23 _et seq._
[52] Backus, _History of New England_, vol. i, p. 448.
[53] _Charters and “Acts and Laws” of the Province of
Massachusetts-Bay, With Appended Acts and Laws_, Boston, 1726–1735,
p. 383. The law provided that “all persons who profess themselves to
be of the Church of England”, and who were so situated that “there is
a Person in Orders according to the Rules of the Church of England
setled [_sic_], and abiding among them and performing Divine Service
within Five Miles of the Habitation, or usual Residence of any Person
professing himself as aforesaid of the Church of England”, might have
his rate-money reserved for the support of the Episcopal church.
[54] _Charters and “Acts and Laws” of the Province of Mass._, _etc._,
p. 423. The five-mile limitation formed a part of this legislation,
also.
[55] Burrage, _History of the Baptists in New England_, p. 105.
[56] Palfrey, _A Compendious History of New England_, vol. iv, pp. 94,
95.
[57] _Acts and Resolves, Public and Private, etc._, vol. iii, p. 645.
[58] _Ibid._
[59] Backus, _History of New England_, vol. ii, p. 140.
[60] _Ibid._
[61] _Ibid._
[62] Separatists or Separates were the names by which those were
commonly designated who withdrew from the orthodox churches on account
of the controversies occasioned by the Great Awakening. See Blake, S.
Leroy, _The Separates or Strict Congregationalists of New England_,
Boston, 1902, pp. 17 _et seq._
[63] Hovey, _A Memoir of the Life and Times of the Rev. Isaac Backus_,
p. 171.
[64] Backus, _History of New England_, vol. ii, pp. 96 _et seq._ Backus
himself suffered imprisonment under this act. See _ibid._, p. 109.
[65] Greene, _The Development of Religious Liberty in Connecticut_, pp.
235 _et seq._ The process of absorption referred to had much to do with
the breaking up of the Separatist movement. Few of these congregations
continued to exist until the struggle for religious freedom was fully
won. Other contributory causes in the breaking up of the movement were
the poverty of the members of these congregations, the difficulties
they experienced in securing pastoral care, and the dissensions that
arose among them in the exercise of their boasted rights of private
judgment, public exhortation, and the interpretation of the Scriptures.
[66] Backus, _History of New England_, vol. ii, pp. 140 _et seq._
[67] Backus, _op. cit._, p. 141.
[68] _Ibid._
[69] _Cf._ _Minutes of the Warren Association for 1769_, quoted by
Burrage, _History of the Baptists in New England_, pp. 108 _et seq._
_Cf._ the following, taken from a statement and appeal to Baptists,
in the _Boston Evening Post_, Aug. 20, 1770: “To the Baptists in the
Province of Massachusetts Bay, who are, or have been, oppressed in any
way on a religious account. It would be needless to tell you that you
have long felt the effects of the laws by which the religion of the
government in which you live is established. Your purses have felt the
burden of ministerial rates; and when these would not satisfy your
enemies, your property hath been taken from you and sold for less than
half its value.... You will therefore readily hear and attend when you
are desired to collect your cases of suffering, and have them well
attested; such as, the taxes you have paid to build meeting-houses, to
settle ministers and support them, with all the time, money and labor
you have lost in waiting on courts, feeing lawyers, &c.; and bring or
send such cases to the Baptist Association to be held at Bellingham;
when measures will be resolutely adopted for obtaining redress from
another quarter than that to which repeated application hath been made
unsuccessfully. Nay, complaints, however just and grievous, hath been
treated with indifference, and scarcely, if at all credited”. (Quoted by
Backus, _History of New England_, vol. ii, p. 155.)
[70] Backus, _History of New England_, vol. ii, pp. 156 _et seq._
[71] This standing committee of the Warren Association is itself a
token of the strengthened purpose of the Baptists.
[72] The address is given in full in Hovey, _A Memoir of the Life and
Times of Isaac Backus_, pp. 218–221. It drew a kindly response from the
Provincial Congress, signed by John Hancock as president, pleading the
inability of the Congress to give redress and advising the aggrieved
parties to submit their case to the General Court of Massachusetts at
its next session. This step was taken in September, 1775; but beyond
the fact that a bill, drawn to give redress, was once read in the
sessions of the Assembly, nothing came at the matter. “Such”, remarks
Backus, “is the disposition of mankind”. (_Cf._ Backus, _History of New
England_, vol. ii, pp. 202 _et seq._ _Cf._ Burrage, _History of the
Baptists in New England_, pp. 113 _et seq._)
[73] _The Laws of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Passed from the
Year 1780, to the End of the Year 1800_, vol. i, pp. 19, 20.
[74] _Ibid._
[75] Backus, _History of New England_, vol. ii, pp. 228 _et seq._, for
cases of persecution under the operation of the bill of rights.
[76] The contribution made by the newspapers must not be overlooked
in this connection. From about 1770 on there may be traced a growing
disposition on the part of dissenters to air their grievances in the
public journals. Supporters of the Establishment were not slow to
respond.
[77] In addition to the two specifically referred to, Backus published
the following: _Policy, as well as Honesty, Forbids the Use of Secular
Force in Religious Affairs_, Boston, 1779; _Truth is Great, and Will
Prevail_, Boston, 1781; _A Door Opened for Equal Christian Liberty,
etc._, Boston, 1783.
[78] Backus, _op. cit._, p. 13.
[79] Quoted from Backus, _History of New England_, vol. ii, p. 223.
[80] Walker, _History of the Congregational Churches in the United
States_, pp. 206–209.
[81] _Cf._ _A Vindication of the Government of the New-England
Churches, etc._, Boston, 1772. The first edition of 500 copies was
quickly subscribed for, and a second was published the same year.
[82] An edition of Wise’s tracts was published as late as 1860, by the
Congregational Board of Publication. From that edition the citations
are drawn. The following from the “Introductory Notice” is of interest:
“ ... some of the most glittering sentences of the immortal Declaration
of Independence are almost literal quotations from this essay of
John Wise [_i. e._, _Vindication of the Government of New-England
Churches_]. And it is a significant fact, that in 1772, only four years
before the declaration was made, a large edition of both those tracts
was published by subscription in one duodecimo volume. The presumption
which this fact alone suggests, that it was used as a political
text-book in the great struggle for freedom then opening, is fully
confirmed by the list of subscribers’ names printed at the end, with
the number of copies annexed.” Page xx _et seq._
[83] _Ibid._, pp. 48–50, 54, 56.
[84] Wise, _op. cit._, p. 56.