The Development of Religious Liberty in Connecticut by M. Louise Greene, Ph. D. (page 5)

with grandiloquent pseudonyms and frequently marked “Papers, please copy” in order to secure for them a larger public. Fantastic bits of natural science, or what purported to be such, and stilted admonitions to virtue, as well as poems, eulogies, and obituaries, were admitted to the columns of these colonial papers. In 1786, the “Connecticut Courant” apologized for its meagre reports of legislative proceedings, especially of those of the Upper House, Council, or Senate, and promised to give full details. This reporting was a new thing, and it was fully five years more before the practice became general among the half dozen papers published in Connecticut. [l] Space was also given in the papers to the reproduction of selections, even whole chapters, from current and popular writers. Among such letters was a series on “the Establishment of the Worship of the Deity essential to National Happiness.” In one of the letters, the author suggests:–

To secure the advantages … allow me to propose _a general and equitable tax collected from all the rateable members of a state, for the support of the public teachers of religion, of all denominations, within the state…._ Let a moderate poll tax be added to a tax of a specified sum on the pound, and levied on all the subjects of a state and collected with the public tax, and paid out to the public teachers of religion of the several denominations in proportion to the number of polls or families, belonging to each respectively; or according to their estimates. [For]

1. It would be equitable.

2. It would be for the good order of the civil state.

3. All ought to contribute to such a religious education of the people as would conduce to civil order.

4. It would promote the peace in towns and societies.

5. It would do away with the legal expenses consequent upon difficulties in collecting rates.

6. It would “extinguish the ardor of the founders of new delusions and their weak and mercenary abettors.”

7. It would prevent separation except upon the firmest principles; “the powerful motive of saving a penny or two in the pound, would cease to operate, because their tax would continue still the same, go where they will.” [174]

It was also suggested that the Assembly should fix ministers’ salaries at so much per hundred families, and that congregations should be permitted to add to the annual grant by voluntary contributions. These are but examples of the reaching out of the public mind for some equitable method of enforcing the support of public worship,–a principle to which the majority still adhered.

The Laws of the State of Connecticut, under which after the Revolution parishes were organized, contained no reference to the Episcopal church as such. All societies and congregations were placed on the same footing precisely, _i.e._, they “had power to provide for the support of public worship by the rent or sale of pews or slips in the meeting-house, by the establishment of funds, or in any other way they might deem expedient.” With this amount of freedom Episcopalians were content, since by the consecration, in 1784, of Samuel Seabury, Bishop of Connecticut, their ecclesiastical equipment was complete.[m] Further, many of them had been Tories, and, satisfied with the clemency shown them at the close of the war by the authorities, they gladly affiliated with them in all Federal measures of national importance, and also, for over thirty years, in all local issues.

From 1783 to 1787 there was throughout the United States a general disintegration of political parties. [175] Federalists and nascent Anti-Federalists were alike seeking some basis for a safe national existence. The Constitution once established, political parties differentiated themselves as the party in power and the “out-party” developed their respective interpretations of the Constitution and of measures permitted under it. The Anti-Federalist party in Connecticut is sometimes said to have been born in 1783 out of opposition both to the Commutation Act of the Continental Congress, voting five years’ full pay instead of half-pay for life to the Revolutionary officers, and to the formation of the Cincinnati. Both of these measures touched the main spring of party difference. America had caste as well as Europe. Though of a different type, it existed in every town and county. There were the people of position, attained by family standing, professional prominence, superior intelligence (rarely by wealth alone), and then, as now, by natural leadership. There were the common people of ordinary abilities and meagre possessions, who looked up to this first class. Between the two there was an invisible barrier. The customs of the day emphasized it. Yet the institutions of the land and its democracy demanded that this barrier, not impassable to men of parts and character who could push up from the masses, should never become insurmountable, as it often did under a monarchy; that it should be steadily leveled by intrusting the governing power more and more to the whole people, rather than to a few leaders; and by educating the masses up to their responsibilities. But many of the leading Federalists preferred to concentrate power in the hands of the few, hesitating to trust the judgment of the great body of citizens with the new and novel government. And to the people at large any measure that bore a remote resemblance to monarchical institutions or monarchical aspirations–however far remote from either–was subject to suspicion and antagonism. The Cincinnati might be the beginning of a nobility, and half-pay or five years’ full pay to the officers ignored the common soldiery who had done most of the fighting, and who had suffered even more severely in their fortunes.[n] When the measures of the first Congress pressed hardest upon the impoverished landed proprietors of the South and upon the small farmers in other sections, of the country, they welded the landed aristocracy of the South and the democracy of the North into the Anti-Federal party. Add to their sense of impoverishment, their common hatred of England, and these classes would hold their prejudice longer than the merchants, the lawyers, and the clergy, whose business, studies, and labors would tend to soften the antagonism created by the war. New England, however, was largely Federal, and Connecticut was one of the strongholds of that party, priding herself upon returning Federal electors as long as there was the shadow of the Federal name to vote for. Moreover, the “Presbyterian Consociated Congregational Church” and the Federalists were so closely allied that the party of the government and the party of the Establishment were familiarly and collectively known as the “Standing Order.” During the early years of statehood, by far the larger number of the dissenters were also good Federalists. But they drew away from the party at a later date, when the Democratic-Republicans began, in their Connecticut state politics, to call for a broader suffrage and full religious liberty, while the Federal Standing Order still continued to claim, as within its patronage, legal favors, political office, and the honors of judicial, military, and civil life.

After the Revolution, the rapidly increasing Baptists continued their warfare waged against certificates and in behalf of religious liberty. Methodists soon sympathized, for Methodist itinerants, entering Connecticut in 1789, gained a footing, in spite of much opposition and real oppression through fines and imprisonments, [o] and quickly made many converts. Their preachers urged upon penurious and backward members the importance of voluntary support of the gospel in almost the same words as those of the Baptist leader: “It is as real _robbery_ to neglect the _ordinances_ of God, as it is to force people to support preachers who will not trust his influence for a temporal living.” [176] Baptists, Methodists, and many other dissenters were far from satisfied with their status, and the government from time to time was forced to take notice of the dissatisfaction. Temporary legislation was enacted to allay the unrest, but, as there was a settled determination to protect the Establishment and to keep the political leadership among its friends, the various measures were not successful. For instance, the legislature in 1785-86 had arranged for the sale of the Western Lands and for the money expected from their sale to be divided among the various Christian bodies, and it had also enacted–

that there shall be reserved to the public five hundred acres of land in each township for the support of the gospel ministry and five hundred acres more for the support of schools in such towns forever; and two hundred and forty acres of good ground in each town to be granted in fee simple to the first gospel minister who shall settle in such town. [177]

Nothing is here said of the Presbyterians, or of any other sect, yet that denomination was sure to receive the greater benefit under the working of the law. They were a wealthy body, and in the next year, they began, under the General Association of Connecticut, to renew their earlier efforts for an organized planting of missions. Attempts to establish missionary posts were begun as early as 1774, but they had been interrupted by the war, and were not revived until 1780, when two missionaries were sent to Vermont. After a little, the missionary spirit languished through lack of support; but interest had been roused again by the promised lands and money from the sales in the Western Reserve, and by the contributions that, flowing in from 1788 to 1791, warranted the dispatch of missionaries into the western field in 1792, and regularly thereafter. [178]

Turning to the religious and more strictly theological side of the development of toleration, there was within the Establishment itself a gradual modification of opinion concerning membership. It was witnessed to by the contents of a book entitled “Christian Forbearance to Weak Consciences a Duty of the Gospel,” by John Lewis of Stepney parish, Wethersfield. It was sent out in 1789 for the purpose of “Attempting to prove that Persons, absenting themselves from the Lord’s Table, through honest scruples of Conscience, is not such a breach of Covenant but that they partake other Privileges.” One may recall that twenty years previous, 1769-71, Dr. Bellamy was thundering not only against the Half-Way Covenant, but also against the Stoddardean view of the Lord’s Supper as a “means” of grace,–as a sacrament the partaking of which would help unworthy or unconverted men to conversion and to the leading of moral and holy lives. One might, for a moment, anticipate that the Wethersfield pastor was harking back to the old idea. But this was not his point of view. “I reprobate,” he writes,”the idea of a Half-Way Covenant, or sealing of such a covenant.” [179] Lewis contended that all seekers after holiness were to enter the church through the “very same covenant,” but that to all of them were to be extended the same and all church privileges, and that they were to accept them “as far as in their conscience they can see their way clear, hoping for further light.” If they could accept baptism and church oversight, and could not, because of honest scruples of conscience (lest they were not worthy), approach the Lord’s Table, they were not for that reason to be considered reprobates. As to such charity opening a way for persons of immoral lives to creep into the churches or to put off willfully the partaking of communion, the author’s experience of many years had proved the contrary, though he could not deny that the possibility of hypocrisy and backsliding might exist under any form of membership.

As a side light upon the growth of toleration during twenty years within the churches of the Establishment, two entries in President Stiles’s diary may be quoted. Writing in 1769, to the Rev. Noah Wells of Stamford, Conn., with reference to the call of the Rev. Samuel Hopkins to a pastorate in Newport, R. I., where Dr. Stiles was then preaching, the latter says: “If I find him (Hopkins) of a Disposition to live in an honorable Friendship, I shall gladly cultivate it. But he must not expect that I recede from my Sentiments both in Theology and ecclesiastical Polity more than he from his, in which I presume he is immovably fixed. We shall certainly differ in some things. I shall endeavor to my utmost to live with him as a Brother; as I think (it) dishonorable that in almost every populous place on this Continent, where there are two or more Presb.[yterian] or Cong.[regational] Chhs. [churches], they should be at greater variance than Prot. [estants] and Romanists: witness every city or Town from Georgia to Nova Scotia (except Portsm’th) [p] where there are more Presb. chhs than one. The Wound is well nigh healed here, may it not break out again.” [180] Writing some two years after the appearance of Lewis’s book, President Stiles, commenting upon the fact that each dissenting sect was so absolutely sure that it alone had the only perfect type of faith and polity, notes the greater tolerance among the Congregational churches, for the latter were not as a rule close communion churches, as were those of the dissenting sects.

Indeed, the intolerance shown towards dissenters was by this time not so much sectarian, not so much a lack of tolerance toward slightly varying fundamentals of faith, form of worship, and organization, as an intolerance based upon the conviction that the body politic must be protected by a state church. There was, of course, a little of the exasperating sense of superiority in belonging to the favored Establishment. The old objection to dissent as heresy–as a sin for which the community was responsible–had for the most part given way to opposition to it as introducing a system of voluntary contributions for the support of religion. And there was a very general and well-defined fear that such a support would prove inadequate. If so, deterioration of the state and of its people would follow. For individual worth and character, many among the dissenters were highly respected, and the great body of them were esteemed good citizens. Among the churches, some few of the established ones were beginning to have their own services occasionally conducted by dissenting ministers. The First Society of Canterbury entered a vote to this effect in 1791. As the churches translated more liberally the Articles of the Saybrook Platform, they approached a polity more in common with that of Separatist and Baptist. By 1800, the teachings of John Wise of Ipswich, reinforced by those of Nathaniel Emmons, “the father of modern Congregationalism,” had permeated all New England. Wise, in his efforts to revive the independence of the single churches, had exploded the Barrowism which New England usage had introduced into original Congregationalism, and the rebound had carried the churches as far beyond the Cambridge Platform towards original Brownism as the Presbyterian movement had carried their polity away from the Cambridge instrument. The later Edwardean school had devoted itself to the discussion of doctrine rather than to polity, and, in the alliance with Presbyterianism outside of Connecticut, it had affiliated without attaching much weight to differences in church government. Their common interest, at first, was to unite against a possible supremacy of the Church of England, and against the danger to their own churches and to good government from the increase of dissenters. Later, their united efforts were directed to forwarding Christian missions in order that the gospel might not be left out of the civilization on the frontier. In this later work, they had competitors as soon as the Baptists and Methodists became strongly organized bodies. Accordingly Presbyterians and Congregationalists still further sank their differences of discipline in the Plan of Union of 1801, formed for the furtherance of the mission work. Thus it was many years before questions of polity again took front rank in the Congregational churches. Already their very indifference to it, the long years of the gradual abandonment of the Saybrook system, together with the development in civil life of a broader conception of humanity, had tended to bring back the independence of the individual church, while custom had preserved the inroojted principle of church-fellowship. It needed only Nathaniel Emmons to embody practice and opinion in a system that should break away from the aristocratic Congregationalism, the semi-Presbyterianized Congregationalism of the eighteenth century, and give to the nineteenth a democracy in the Church equivalent to that in the State. Emmons, however, carried his theory to extremes [q] when opposing ministerial associations; yet with some modifications modern Congregationalism is essentially that of his school. Church polity, however, did not become a topic of general interest for at least half a century more, nor was it formulated anew until the Albany Convention of 1862 passed “upon the local work and responsibility of a Congregational Church.”

From the politico-ecclesiastical point of view, the legislative measures in the history of Connecticut, during the fifteen years after the colony became a state, that are of chief importance are the Certificate Laws and Western Land bills. In order to properly appreciate their significance this summary of the industrial, social, and religious life of the Connecticut people during the years following the Revolution was necessary.

FOOTNOTES:

[a] Five towns were laid out in 1785; from 1784 to 1787, twenty-one in all; from 1787 to 1800, ten; and from 1800 to 1818, eleven.–Hollister, _Hist, of Connecticut_, pp. 469-70.

[b] Of the seven hundred members of the Susquehanna Land Company, formed in 1754, six hundred and thirty-eight were Connecticut men. A summer settlement was made on the Delaware in 1757 and on the Susquehanna in 1762. The first permanent settlement was in 1769. At the close of the Revolution, renewed attempts to colonize resulted in a reign of lawlessness and bloodshed.

[c] Horses, cattle, beef, pork, stages, flour, grain. During the European wars, the United States exported foodstuffs in great quantities, to feed both French and English armies, amounting to over 100,000 men.

[d] President Stiles was interested in silk culture and in the manufacture of silk. His commencement gown in 1789 was of Connecticut make. Through the efforts of General Humphreys (1784-94) attempts were made to introduce the Spanish merino sheep and to establish factories for fine broadcloth. Iron works were set up in different parts of the state. The earliest cotton factories centred about Pomfret. Clocks, watches, cut shingle-nails, paper, stone, and earthenware pottery, were among the manufactures started in Norwalk between 1767 and 1773, while in Windham, hosiery, silk and tacks were manufactured.

[e] In 1701 the General Court enacted that the May session of the Legislature should be held at New Haven, and the October one at Hartford. This was a concession to the former sovereignty of the New Haven Colony. The arrangement continued until 1873. The biennial sessions, introduced by the constitution of 1818, alternated between the two capitols.

[f] “Mr. Dwight is enlarging hia School to comprehend the Ladies, … promising to carry them through a course of belles Lettres, Geography, Philosophy, and Astronomy. The spirit for Academy making is vigorous.”–_Stiles Diary_, iii, 247.

Of the academies, the more famous were Lebanon, Plainfield, Greenfield (under Dr. Dwight), Norwich, Windham, Waterbury (for both sexes), and Stratfield from 1783 to 1786. There was also a second school in Norwich from 1783 to 1786. See _Stiles Diary_, iii, 248.

[g] Harvard Divinity School was established 1815; Yale, 1822. Previously both universities had each a professor of divinity.

[h] “For three years and three months before his [Bellamy’s] death he was disabled by a paralytic Shock, we impaired his Intellect as well as debilitated his Body. Few were equal to him in the Desk & he was Communicative and instructive in Conversation upon religious Subjects.” The passage closes with the prophecy, “His numerous noisy Writings have blazed their day, and one Generation more will put them to sleep.”–_Stiles Diary_, March 16, 1790 (on hearing the news of Bellamy’s death). See vol. iii, pp. 384-385. See Trumbull, ii, 159, for a more favorable opinion.

[i] Referring to the successor of Dr. Wales in the Yale chair of divinity, Pres. Stiles wrote, “An Old Divinity man will be acceptable to all the Old Divy. _Ministers & to all the Churches_: a New Divt man will be acceptable to all the New Divy. Ministers and to _None of the Churches_, as none of the Chhs. in New Engl. are New Divt.”–_Stiles Diary_, iii, 506, note (Sept. 8, 1793). See also under date of Nov. 16, 1786, where churches are said to take New Divinity pastors “because they can get no others, but persons in the parish know nothing of the New Theology.”

[j] “Law Reports of the Superior and Supreme Courts, 1785-1788, by E. Kirby. Just published at this office and ready for subscribers and gentlemen disposed to purchase, for which most kinds of country produce will be received.”–Advertisement in _Litchfield Monitor_ of Apr. 13, 1789.

[k] Calhoun, Woodbury, Mason, Clayton, and Hubbard. Judge Reeve retired in 1820; Judge Gould in 1833.

[l] Reporters were admitted to the national House of Representatives in 1790 and to the Senate in 1802.

[m] Bishop Seabnry was consecrated by the Scotch non-juring bishops, Nov. 14, 1786. The latter, about four years later, were restored to their position as an integral part of the Anglican hierarchy. Meanwhile, Dr. Samuel Provoost of New York and Dr. William White of Pennsylvania, on Feb. 4, 1787, were consecrated by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, assisted by the Bishops of Wells and Peterborough, after a special Act of Parliament permitting the consecration to take place without the usual oaths of allegiance to the King as head of the church. In 1789, Bishop Seabury became president of the House of Bishops thus formed in America. The following year, James Madison of Virginia was consecrated by the English bishops, thus giving to the United States three bishops after the English succession, so that the validity of the Scottish rite should hot be questioned in the consecration of future American bishops.

[n] The eighty dollars proposed for privates would not go far toward mending broken fortunes, or care for broken constitutions and crippled bodies.

At the Middletown Convention, Sept. 3, 1783, delegates from Hartford, Wethersfield, and Glastonbury met to denounce the Commutation Act. At its adjourned meeting on Sept. 30 fifty towns, a majority in the state, disapproved the Act in an address to the General Assembly, and called attention to the Society of the Cincinnati. At the last meeting, March, 1784, an address to the people of the state was framed which condemned both the Commutation Act and the Cincinnati.– J. H. Trumbull, _Notes on the Constitution_, p. 18. Noah Webster, _History of the Parties in the United States_, pp. 317-320.

[o] Methodism was twenty-eight years old, when, in 1766, Robert Strawbridge introduced it into New York, and Philip Embury preached his first sermon in a sail-loft. In 1771, Francis Asbury, later Bishop Asbury, was appointed John Wesley’s “Assistant” in America. In 1773, the first Annual Conference was held. Methodism rapidly spread in the Middle and Southern states. By the year 1773-74, the year’s increase in members was nine hundred and thirteen; in 1774-75, ten hundred and seventy-three. The preachers traveled on foot or on horseback, preaching as they went; living on the smallest allowance; sleeping where night overtook them; and meeting often with grudging hospitality, suspicion, and, sometimes, open violence.

Methodism “began when Episcopacy was at its lowest point, both in efficiency, and in the good-will of the people.” It agreed with Jonathan Edwards on the nature of personal religion, and separated from the Church of England in this, the Methodist’s central principle of “conscious conversion” or “emotional experience.” Later in New England, Wesley’s missionaries united in Methodist societies many of the converts to the Edwardean theology.

At the opening of the Revolution, the whole body of Methodists were within the Church of England. Of the English missionaries only Asbury, Dempster, and Wharcott remained in America to carry on, with native preachers, the work of proselytizing. It was “the only form of religion that advanced in America during that dark period, and during the war, it more than quadrupled both its ministry and members.” At the beginning of the war, it had eighty traveling preachers, beside local preachers and exhorters; a membership of one thousand, and auditors ten thousand. In 1784, there was a year’s increase of fourteen thousand nine hundred and eighty-eight members, and of one hundred and four preachers to rejoice in the consecration of Bishop Asbury. In the November of that year, Bishops Coke and Asbury, organizing the “American Episcopal Church,” in spite of Wesley’s anathemas probably led out one hundred thousand souls as the nucleus of the new church.

For a while the Connecticut authorities refused to recognize “as sober Dissenters” any converts other than the stationed preachers and their charges. The persecutions which the Methodists suffered were those of slander, the refusal to them of halls, churches, or public buildings; the refusal to permit their ministers, unless located, to perform the marriage ceremony; and petty fines, with occasional unjust imprisonment.

[p] Portsmouth, N. H.

[q] “A pure democracy which places every member of the church upon a level and gives him perfect liberty with order.” Under such a definition of a church as this, its pastor becomes only a moderator at its meetings, and every church is absolutely independent. It would follow that from its decisions there could be no appeal. Emmons was fond of declaring that “Association leads to Consociation; Consociation leads to Presbyterianism; Presbyterianism leads to Episcopacy; Episcopacy to Roman Catholicism, and Roman Catholicism is an ultimate fact.”

In spite of his teaching as to democracy, Emmons was as intolerant of it in the State as he was earnest for it in the Church.

CHAPTER XIII

CERTIFICATE LAWS AND WESTERN LAND BILLS

And make the bounds of Freedom wider yet.–Alfred Tennyson.

The legal recognition of conscience, the acknowledgment of fundamental dogmas held in common, the gradual approachment of the various religious organizations in polity, their common interest in education and good government, would seem to furnish grounds for such mutual esteem that the government would willingly do away with the objectionable certificates. On the contrary, the old conception of a state church, and of its value to the body politic, was so strongly intrenched in the hearts of the majority of the people that they felt it incumbent upon them to require the certificates as guarantees that those who were without the Establishment were fulfilling their religious duties. Particularly was this the case when new sects continued to increase and radical opinions to spread among the masses. And as the government saw these apparently destructive ideas permeating the people, it endeavored, rather unwisely, to hem dissent in closer bounds, and to favor still more Cougregationalists and Presbyterian-Congregationalists.

The aggressively successful proselytizing by the Methodists revived the old dislike of rash exhorters and itinerant preachers, and the old contempt for an ignorant and unlearned ministry. The proselytizing movement had also created a suspicion that it was hypocritical, and that it was masking a deliberate attempt to undermine the Establishment. Outside this Methodist propaganda there were also all sorts of unorthodox ideas that were spreading notions of Universalism, Arianism, deism, atheism, and freethinking, and making many converts. These proselytes were frequent among the untutored and irresponsible members of society who caught at the doctrines of greater freedom, and sometimes translated them, theoretically at least, into principles of greater personal license; and where they did not do this, the authorities felt sure that they would soon, and if unrestrained by ecclesiastical law, would quickly become lawless, first in religious affairs and then, as a consequence, in moral ones. Not only in this radical class, but among the recognized dissenters and among a minority of other, religious folk, there was a tendency to question both the authority and the justice of the government in its restrictive religious laws, its ecclesiastical taxation, and its Sabbath-day legislation. Particularly was there opposition to the fine for absence from public worship on Sunday, unless excused by weighty reasons, and to the assessment upon every one of a tax for the support of some form of recognized public worship, even though the tax-payer had no personal interest or liking for that which he was obliged to support. The feeling that such injustice ought not to continue was strong among some members of the Establishment. They found a powerful advocate in Judge Zephaniah Swift of Windham, the author of the “System of the Laws of the State of Connecticut.”

Judge Swift was a thorough-going Federalist, but so bitter an opponent of the union of Church and State that his enemies, and even members of his own party, taunted him with being a freethinker,–a serious charge in those days. Nevertheless, Judge Swift held the loyalty of a county and of one rather tolerant of dissent. “The Phenix or Windham Herald,” founded in 1790, though Federal in politics, became Judge Swift’s organ; and so acceptable were his opinions, taken all in all, to the community, that from 1787 to 1793 it returned this arch-enemy of the Establishment as its deputy to the House, and then his congressional district honored him with a seat in the national council until 1799. He became chief justice in 1806, and died in 1819, having lived to see the charter constitution set aside and Church and State divorced.

The small Anti-Federal party in the state, though making but very few converts at this time, and though of very little importance politically, were the pronounced advocates of a wider suffrage, a larger tolerance, and of radical changes in the method of government. The last they believed necessary before any great improvement in the terms of the franchise or in those of religious toleration could be secured. “An Address to the Baptists, Quakers, Rogerines, and all other denominations of Christians in Connecticut, freed by law from supporting what has been called the ‘Established Religion,'” went the rounds of the newspapers urging continued resistance to the support of any religious system that enforced a tax. The “Address” closed with the cheerful prediction that, as their numbers were increasing very rapidly, they might hope yet “to carry the vote against those who have put on haughty airs and affected to treat us as their inferiors.”

Such seething opposition among various classes induced the government to enact some special legislation; but it was unfortunately not of a conciliatory character. In May, 1791, a law was passed varying the old requirement that certificates, after being signed by a church officer, should be lodged with the Society clerk, to the demand that they be signed by two civil officers, or, where there was only one, by the justice of the peace of the town in which the dissenter lived. Considering that the justices were mostly Congregationalists, the enactment amounted to an intrenchment of the Standing Order at the expense of the dissenters. With these officers lay full power to pass upon the validity of the certificates and upon the honesty of intent on the part of the persons presenting them. The certificates read:–

We have examined the claim of —- who says he is a Dissenter from the Established Society of —- and hath joined himself to a church or Congregation of the name of —-; and that he ordinarily attends upon the public worship of such Church or Congregation; and that he contributes his share and proportion toward supporting the public worship and ministry thereof, do upon examination find that the above facts are true.

Dated

Justice of the Peace. [182]

A veritable doubt, spite, malice, prejudice, or mistaken zeal, might determine the granting of the certificate to the dissenter.

The authorities defended this measure upon the ground that it was the _civil_ effect of preaching that gives the _civil_ magistrate jurisdiction. “The law,” they said, “has nothing to do with _conscience_ and _principles_.” [183] They further declared that there were persons who were taking undue advantage of the certificate exemptions, and that there were good reasons, to doubt the validity of many of the certificates.

This Certificate Act roused the dissenters throughout the state. “In public society meetings and in speaking universal abroad, sensible that their numbers though scattered were large,” they strove to create a sentiment that should send to the next legislature a “body of representatives who would remember their petition and see that equal religious liberty should be established.”

In regard to the certificates, a writer in the “Courant” exclaims:–

It is sometimes said that the giving of a certificate once a year or once in a man’s life is but a trifle, and none but the obstinate will refuse it as none but the covetous desire it. True it is but a trifle–ten times as much would be but a trifle if it was right. If it must be done, let them who plead for it do the little trifle; they have no scruples of conscience about it…. The certificate law is as much worse than the tax on tea as religious fetters are worse than civil. [184]

The Rev. John Leland’s “The Rights of Conscience inalienable; therefore Religious Opinions not cognizable by Law; Or The High flying Churchman, stript of his legal Robe appears a yaho” was a powerful arraignment of the government and defense of the right of all to worship as conscience bade them. Leland had recently come from Virginia and settled in New London. In the southern state he had been one of the most influential among the Baptist ministers and a great power in politics. In Virginia he had seen the separation of Church and State in 1785, and had witnessed the benefits following that policy. After the publication of his “Rights of Conscience” the question before the Connecticut people became one of establishment or disestablishment, because Leland, not content with showing the falsity of the position that civil necessities required an established church, or with a logical demonstration of the inalienable rights of conscience, proceeded to boldly attack the Charter of Charles II as being in no rightful sense the constitution of the state of Connecticut. He maintained that, “Constitution” though it was called, it was not such, because it had been enforced upon the people by a mere vote of the legislature [a] and was a “constitution” never “assented to further than passive obedience and non resistance” by the people at large; a constitution–

contrary to the known sentiments of a far greater part of the States in the Union; and inconsistent with the clear light of liberty, which is spreading over the world in meridian splendor, and dissipating those antique glooms of tyrannical darkness which were ever opposed to free, equal, religious liberty among men.

Leland arraigns a union of Church and State that presupposes a need of legislative support for religion, which the example of other states has proved unnecessary; and which the experience of communities, persisting in such union, has shown to be productive of evil, of ignorance, superstition, persecution, lying and hypocrisy, a weakness to the civil state, and a conversion of the Bible and of religion to tools of statecraft and political trickery.

Government has no more to do with religious opinions of men than it has with the principles of mathematics…. Truth disdains the aid of law for its defence, … it will stand upon its own merit…. Is it just to balance the Establishment against the rights guaranteed in the charter, and to enact a law which has no saving clause to prevent taxation of Jew, Turk, Papist, Deist, Atheist, for the support of a ministry in which they would not share and which violated their conscience? [185]

Many Federalists of Judge Swift’s type sympathized with Leland’s bold arraignment of the Establishment, if not with his view of the unconstitutionality of the charter government. These men repudiated the new certificate law.

The authorities felt that they had gone too far, and in October, 1791, after an existence of only six months, they repealed the certificate law by one hundred and five yeas to fifty-seven nays. The new law that was substituted permitted each dissenter to write his own certificate, release, or “sign-off,” as the papers were colloquially called, and required him to file it with the clerk of the Established Society wherein he dwelt. [186] This favor was not so great a privilege as it seemed. It bore hard upon the dissenters in two ways. It created “Neuters,” people who wished to be relieved from the ecclesiastical taxes, but who were too indifferent to the principles and welfare of the churches to which they allied themselves to faithfully support them. For their churches to complain of such persons to the authorities would only give the latter reasons for enforcing the laws for the support of the Establishment. Then again, the new certificate law did not relieve the dissenters who lived too far from their churches to ordinarily attend them from petty fines and from court wrangles as to the justice of them, for with the judges lay the determination of what the words “far” and “near” and “ordinarily do attend” in the laws meant. [b] The important question of how many absences from church would prevent a man from claiming that he was a regular attendant was thus left in the hands of judges, who were for the most part prejudiced or partial. Many amusing and exasperating legal quibbles occurred in the courts between judges, who were determined to sentence for neglect of public worship, and defendants, who were equally positive of their rights. Many dissenters attempted later to ridicule the law out of existence by substituting for the formal–

I certify that I differ in sentiment from the worship and ministry in the ecclesiastical society of —- in the town of —- constituted bylaw within certain local bounds, and have chosen to join myself to the (Insert here the name of society you have joined) in the town of —-.

Dated at —- this —- day of —- A. D.

declarations, undignified in wording and sometimes written in doggerel rhyme. While granting the new certificate law, the Assembly were careful to pass a minor ecclesiastical statute enforcing a fine of from six to twelve shillings upon all who should neglect to observe all public fasts and thanksgivings. [187] This law at times proved unsatisfactory to the Episcopalians, for the Congregational fasts and feasts were appointed by the authorities, who naturally did not consider the Churchman’s feeling when called upon to celebrate a feast or thanksgiving during an Episcopalian season of fasting, or to observe a public fast, to go in sackcloth, upon an anniversary that should be marked by joy and praise.

In 1792, the year following the attempt to remodel the certificate laws, certain legislative measures with reference to Yale College fed the discontent among the dissenting sects. For some years there had been an increasing dissatisfaction with the management of the college. It culminated in 1792 in the reorganization of the governing board, to which were added eight civilians, including the governor, lieutenant-governor, and the six senior councilors or state senators. At the same time, and in consideration of the admission of laymen to the board, $40,000 was given to the college. [c] This money was a part of the taxes which had been collected to meet the expenses of the Revolutionary war, and which were in the state treasury when the United States government offered to refund the state for such expense. It was granted to the college on condition that she should invest it in the new United States bonds, and that half the profits of the investment should be at the disposal of the state. This arrangement relieved the crippled finances of the college and gratified many of its friends. But there were many who regarded the measure as out-and-out favoritism to a Congregational college, and who put no faith in the proposed half-sharing of profits. They maintained that eventually the college would get the whole benefit of the money that had been collected for other purposes, and from many persons who could derive no benefit from such a disposal of it. These prophets were not far wrong, for after Yale had paid into the state treasury a little more than $13,000 she was relieved from further payments by a repeal, in 1796, of the conditional clause of the grant.

This favoritism to Yale was not the only legislation to anger the dissenters, and especially the Baptists. Another measure, mooted at the same time as the certificate acts and the special grant to the college, was accepted as a further mark of the government’s determination to ignore the rights of dissenters. In 1785-86 the Assembly had granted lands for the support of the Gospel ministry, for schools, and to the first minister to settle in each township of the Western Reserve. This act, as has been shown, was considered to unduly favor the Presbyterians. But little had come of this legislation beyond the survey of the land and the opening of a land office there for its sale. Five years later, in 1791, even though no part of the tract had been sold, the Assembly introduced a new bill appropriating the anticipated proceeds from the sale of the land to the several ecclesiastical societies as a fund with which to pay their ministers so as to enable them to do away with the tax for salaries. But the excitement roused by the first certificate law–of 1791–was so great that it was deemed prudent to continue this Western Land bill over to the next session of the legislature, and there it was lost. The session of May, 1792, contented itself with only such legislation in regard to the Western Reserve as that by which it granted the “Fire Lands,” so called, a grant of 500,000 acres as indemnity to the citizens of New London, Groton, Fairfield, Norwalk, and Danbury, for the destruction of their property in the burning of their towns by British troops.

As the lands of the Western Reserve did not sell well, [d] the Assembly, in 1793, appointed a committee to dispose of the tract to the highest bidder if the amount offered should be duly guaranteed with interest; principal and interest payable to the state within four or six years, whether paid in lump sum on demand, or by installments. The sale was widely advertised both within and without the state. It was now calculated that the amount realized from the sale of the lands would be a sum yielding an annual interest of $60,000, or an average of $600 to a town, beside a bonus to Yale of $8000. Therefore, the Assembly, in October, 1793, voted that–

moneys arising from the sale of the territory belonging to the State, lying west of the state of Pennsylvania, be, and the same is hereby established a perpetual fund, the interest whereof is granted, and shall be appropriated to the use and benefit of the several ecclesiastical societies, churches, congregations of all _denominations_ in this State, to be by them applied to the support of their respective ministers or preachers of the Gospel, and schools of education, under such rules and regulations as shall be adopted by this or some future session of the General Assembly. [188]

An earlier bill had been proposed, discussed, and tabled. This act was originally a resolution framed by a large committee whose members represented both the friends and opponents of the proposal for the immediate sale of the lands. When the vote passed, it was by eighty-three yeas to seventy nays in the House and by a large and favorable majority in the Council.

One fault that the dissenters found with the law was that, under the rules and regulations adopted by the Assembly, they believed that the alternative which the law allowed of voting the money to the ministerial fund, or to the school, would work to their disadvantage. Where there were few dissenters, the Presbyterian vote would carry the money over to the minister’s use, and where there were many, the same vote would be sufficient, if thrown, as it probably would be, to direct the money to the school appropriation. It would follow that the dissenters might never have the use of the money for the support of their own worship.

The Baptists voiced the general opposition among the dissenters,–an opposition so strong that it appealed to some of the conservatives as sufficient reason in itself to condemn the law. “A Friend to Society” wrote to the “Hartford Courant” that–

if a religion whose principles are universal love and harmony is to be supported and promoted by a means which will blow up the sparks of faction and party strife into a violent flame, it is a new way of promoting religion. Much better would it be for the State of Connecticut that their Western Lands should be sunk by an earthquake and form part of the adjoining lake than that they should be transplanted hither for a bone of contention.

Apart from sectarian interests, the law met with hostility. There were those who thought that the money ought to be applied at once to the remaining indebtedness of the state, rather than for it to wait for another installment on the Revolutionary debt that was still due from the national government. There were more who thought that the money ought to go for the expenses of government, or for direct advantages, such as the repair of bridges and highways. But the expenses of government were light, [e] and, as a rule, the people were willing to keep the highways in repair. There was still another party who contended that the money should go for schools, both because they were needed in larger numbers, and because they ought to be able to pay larger salaries and not ones so small as to tempt only the farmer lad, or the ambitious student, to keep a country school for a few months in winter, or a somewhat similarly equipped woman to teach in summer. And there was yet another party who were convinced that the money should go to the support of the ministry, for they believed that morality could be taught only by religion, and that the people were losing interest in the latter because of the inferiority of the preachers whom the small salaries and insecure support kept in the field. [189]

While this discussion of certificate laws, of grants to Yale, and of grants of land and money to the ecclesiastical societies had been constantly before the public, there had also been present a minor grievance due to the Assembly’s interest in the missionary work that the General Association had extended to include parts of Vermont, western New York, Pennsylvania, and the outlying settlements in Ohio. In the western field the missionaries sent by Connecticut frequently met those sent out by the Presbyterian General Assembly. Drawn together by their interests in these missions in 1794, the practice was begun of having three delegates from the General Association meet with the Presbyterian General Assembly in their annual convention, and three delegates from the General Assembly take their seats in the yearly convocation of the General Association of Connecticut. So long as the Connecticut churches were strongly Presbyterian in sentiment, there was no clashing of interests among the workers in the mission field. Naturally, Connecticut wanted to do her full share of missionary work; and feeling the need of more money for the purpose, the General Association, in 1792, appealed to the legislature for permission to take up an annual collection for three years. The Association hesitated to take up such a collection in all the churches, dissenting or Established, without such permission. The Baptists expressed their indignation at the wording of Governor Huntington’s proclamation, “that there be a contribution taken up in every congregation for the support of the Presbyterian Missions in the western territory.” More than that, they refused to contribute, on the ground that if the collection had been “recommended” they would gladly have helped a Christian cause, but that it was inexpedient to yield to a demand that all societies should contribute to the support of missions that were entirely under the control of one religious body. Furthermore, with reference to the appropriation of money from the Western Lands, they would join with other dissenters in opposing it, on the ground that, in order to obtain their share of the money, they would have to admit their inferiority through the showing of the compulsory certificates. Moreover, even the scant favor secured through these was in danger from the continual favoritism of the legislature, with its treasury open at all times to its Congregational college, and with its enactments in favor of the Established Churches.

At the May session of the Assembly, 1794, the Baptists from all over the state thronged the steps of the capitol at Hartford, angered almost to the point of precipitating civil war. There John Leland addressed them, urging the necessity of government; the power of constitutional reform; arguing for rights of conscience, citing both European and colonial history to prove their reasonableness and their value to the body politic; and setting forth Connecticut’s departure from the glorious freedom mapped out by her founders. He declared to that great and angry crowd:–

Government is a necessary evil and so a chosen good. Its business is to preserve the life, liberty and property of the many units that form the body politic…. When a constitution of government is formed, it should be simple and explicit; the powers that are vested in, and work to be performed by each department should be defined with the utmost perspicuity; and this constitution should be attended to as scrupulously by men in office as the Bible should be by all religionists…. Let the people first be convinced of the deficiency of the constitution, and remove the defects thereof, and then, those in office can change the administration upon constitutional grounds.

* * * * *

[The right to worship] God according to the dictates of conscience, without being prohibited, directed or controlled therein by human law, either in _time, place or manner_, cannot be surrendered up to the general government for an equivalent. [190]

Had not Governor Haynes said to Roger Williams, “The Most High God hath provided and cut out this part of the world for a refuge and receptacle for all sorts of consciences?” How had not Connecticut fallen? How passed her ancient glory, how ignored her charter’s rights? How firm a grip upon her had that incubus of her own raising, the pernicious union of Church and State? Break that, as elsewhere it had been broken, and then as freemen demand a constitution guaranteeing both civil and religious liberty.

The result of the widespread hostility was the attempt at the May session of 1794 to repeal the offensive law. The Lower House did repeal it, after a lively debate, by a vote of 109 yeas to 58 nays, but the Council, or Upper House, where the conservatives were intrenched, refused to pass the bill. However, they were induced to pass a resolution suspending the sale of the lands. The debate in the House was published verbatim in the “Hartford Gazette” of May 19, 1794, and was copied by the papers throughout the state. In the following October a bill was passed by the Council, but continued over by the House and ordered to be printed in all the papers, that the people might have opportunity to consider it before it should come up to be passed upon by their representatives in the May session of 1795. [191] The terms of the bill were that the principal sum of money received from the sale of the Western Lands should be apportioned among the several school societies according to the list of polls and rateable estates, and that the interest arising from the money so divided should be appropriated to the support of schools that were kept according to the law, or to the support of the public worship of God and the Christian ministry, “as the majority of the legal voters should annually determine.” [192]

The proposed law was subjected to public scrutiny of all sorts. It was agitated in town meetings, and the discussions for and against it were noticed in the newspapers, where much space was given to its consideration. Ministers made it the subject of their sermons. Dr. Dwight discoursed upon the subject in his Thanksgiving sermon. [193] When the proposed bill came up before the legislature, it encountered considerable opposition, but after some modifications it became a law. As in school societies the dissenters had an equal vote, and in all town affairs were worth conciliating, there was more justice in the new law than in the old, where the ecclesiastical society was made the unit of division. From 1717 to 1793 the towns, parishes, and occasionally the ecclesiastical societies had charge of the schools. [194] But in 1794 school districts were authorized and the change to them begun. Such districts could, upon the vote of two thirds of all the qualified voters, locate schools, lay taxes to build and repair them, and appoint a collector to gather such rates. The act of May, 1795, appropriating the money from the Western Lands to the schools, provided also that the school districts should be erected into school societies to whom the money should be distributed, and by whom the interest thereon should be expended; and that it should go “to no other Use or Purpose whatsoever; except in the Case and under the circumstances hereafter mentioned.” The circumstances here referred to were in cases where two thirds of the legal voters in a school society meeting, legally warned, voted to use the interest money for the support of the ministry in that Society, and appealed to the General Assembly for permission to so use the money. Upon such an expression of the wish of voters, the General Assembly was empowered to answer in the affirmative. The act also repealed that of 1793. The legislature appointed another commission for the sale of the lands. They were sold in the following October for $1,200,000. By this legislation was laid the foundation of Connecticut’s School Fund. The Connecticut Land Company, which had made the purchase, petitioned the legislature in 1797 that Connecticut should surrender her jurisdiction over the lands to the United States. The state complied. In 1798 the organization of the new school societies was perfected, and the control of the schools passed entirely into their hands until the district system of 1856 was adopted.

The Western Land bills had resulted in the establishment of a public school fund and in its just distribution, without reference to sectarianism, among the people. All the agitation attending both the certificate acts and Western Land bills had demonstrated the intense opposition of the dissenting minority, and that they were beginning to look to the increase of their numbers and the power of the ballot as the only means of changing the vexatious laws under which they were treated as inferiors. To the Congregationalists, strong both as the Established Church and as members of the Federal party, which counted many adherents among all the dissenting sects, the possibility that any voting strength could be brought against them, adequate to oppose their party measures, seemed improbable. Such a possibility must be very remote. Yet within twenty years, they were to see the downfall of the Federal party, of the Established Church, and of Connecticut’s charter government.

FOOTNOTES:

[a] The vote of the Assembly was: “That the ancient form of civil government, containing the charter from Charles the Second, King of England, and adopted by the people of this State, shall be and remain the Civil Constitution of the State under the sole authority of the people thereof, independent of any King, or ftince whatever. And that this Republic is and shall forever be and remain a free, sovereign, and independent State, by the name of the State of Connecticut.”–Revision of Acts and Laws, Ed. 1784, p. 1.

[b] “Courts and juries had usually been composed of what was considered the standing church, and they had frequently practiced such quibbles and finesse with respect to the forms of certificates and the nature of dissenting congregations as to defeat the benevolent intentions of the law.”–Swift’s _System of Laws_, pp. 146, 147.

[c] Yale received in all $40,629.80. In 1871, six alumni replaced the six senior councilors.

[d] So far the highest bid for the tract of land had been $350,000.

[e] The annual expenses were estimated to be approximately $90,000. In _Advice to Connecticut Folks_, 1786, occurs the following estimate:–

=================================================================== Necessary Unneces’y
——————————————————————- Governor’s salary, L300 L300 Lieutenant-Governor’s, 100 100 Upper House attendance and travel
60 days at L10 per day, 600 600 Lower House attendance and travel
170 members at 6s. a day, 60 days, 3,060 1,530 L1,530 Five Judges of the Superior Court at
24s. a day, suppose 150 days, 900 900 Forty Judges of Inferior Court at
9s. a day, suppose 40 days, 720 720 Six thousand actions in the year, the
legal expenses of each, suppose L3, 18,000 1,000 17,000 Gratuities to 120 lawyers, suppose
L50 each, 6,000 1,000 5,000 Two hundred clergymen at L100 each, 20,000 20,000 Five hundred schools at L20 a year, 10,000 10,000 Support of poor, 10,000 10,000 Bridges and other town expenses, 10,000 10,000 Contingencies and articles not
enumerated, 10,000 10,000 ——————————————————————- Total, L89,680 L66,150 L23,530

As a glimpse at society, it may be added that the _Advice_ itself is an energetic and statistical condemnation of the prevalent use of “Rum,” estimated at L90,000 or “ninety-nine hundredths unnecessary expense” in living. “Deny it if you can, good folks. Now say not a word about taxes, Judges, lawyers, courts and women’s extravagances. Your government, your courts, your lawyers, your clergymen, your schools and your poor, do not all cost you so much as one paltry article which does you little or no good but is as destructive of your lives as fire and brimstone.”–Noah Webster’s _Collection of Essays,_ pp. 137-139.

The evil was beginning to be recognized in all its danger. Here and there voluntary temperance clubs were beginning to be formed among the better classes, but it was a time when hardly a contract was closed without a stipulation of a certain quantity of rum for each workman.

CHAPTER XIV

POLITICAL PARTIES IN CONNECTICUT AT THE BEGINNING OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

As well dam up the waters of the Nile with Bullrushes as to fetter the steps of Freedom.–L. M. Child.

Leland’s attack upon the constitution of Connecticut during the excitement over the Western Land bills called for new tactics on the part of the dissenters. Thus far, in all their antagonism to the union of Church and State, there had been on their part practically no attack upon the constitution itself. Yet even as early as 1786 the Anti-Federalists had proclaimed that the state of Connecticut was without a constitution; that the charter government fell with the Declaration of Independence; and that its adoption by the legislature as a state constitution was an unwarranted excess of authority. The Anti-Federalists maintained also that many of the charter provisions were either outgrown or unsuited to the needs of the state. But the majority of the dissenters, like the Constitutional Reform party of recent date, preferred redress for their grievances through legislation rather than through the uprooting of an ancient and cherished constitution. Accordingly, it was not until the elections of 1804-6 that this question of a new constitution could reasonably be made a campaign issue. But from 1793 the dissenters began to lean towards affiliation with the Democratic-Republican [a] party, the successors to the Anti-Federal; yet it was not until toward the close of the War of 1812 that the Republican party made large gains in Connecticut and the dissenters began to feel sure that the dawn of religious liberty was at hand. But before that time the Republicans made three distinct though abortive attempts to secure the electoral power.

The Anti-Federalists early began to probe for weak spots in the constitutional government of Connecticut. The Fundamental Orders had given four deputies to each of the three original towns, and had made the number of deputies from each new town proportionate to its population. The Charter had limited the deputies to two from each town. The Fundamental Orders gave the General Court, composed of Governor, Magistrates or Assistants, and Deputies, supreme governing power, including, together with that of legislation, the granting of levies, the admission of freemen, the disposal of public lands, and the organization of courts. It had also a general supervision over individuals, magistrates, and courts, with power to revise decisions and to mete out punishments. The Charter of 1662 did not materially alter the laws and customs of the government as previously established under the Fundamental Orders, or the “first written constitution.” The Charter emphasized the executive, and began the segregation of the Upper House or Council, since by it the “Particular Court” of the founders became the Governor’s Council, serving upon like occasions, but requiring the presence of at least six magistrates for the transaction of business. The Particular Court had consisted of the Governor or Deputy-Governor, and three Assistants. In emergencies occurring during adjournment of the General Court, the Particular Court was to serve in place of the larger body. After 1647 this special court could consist of two or three magistrates who, in the absence of the Governor or Deputy-Governor, chose one of their number to act as moderator. After 1662 the formula of the General Court “Be it ordered, enacted and decreed” was changed to “Be it enacted by the Governor and Council and House of Representatives in General Court assembled.” At the regular session of the General Court or General Assembly, the Councilors first sat as a separate body in 1698. After the Declaration of Independence this Upper House or Council became the Senate, and for many years was referred to under any one of the three names.

The power of the General Court–this jumble of legislative, executive, and judicial–worked well so long as the community consisted of a few hundred or a few thousand souls with little diversity of sentiment or industrial interest. It was not until the last quarter of the eighteenth century that the inefficiency of the “first written constitution” began to be felt. Then there arose the need of a new constitution to modify the body of laws and customs that had grown up; to destroy much of the erroneous legislation that in effect perverted or nullified their original intent; and to furnish a constitutional basis for the government of a larger and less homogeneous people. Here and there a few thoughtful men, irrespective of their church or party, were beginning to apprehend the difficulty of piloting a democratic state under the old royal charter. The more prominent among them belonged to the Anti-Federal party, and naturally they sought to expose the constitutional difficulties which they believed impeded progress. [b]

One of the earliest party tilts grew out of the increase of new towns and the unequal development of some of the older ones. Then as now, though on a much smaller scale, the unit of town representation threatened rotten boroughs and a fictitious representation of the will of the majority as represented by the delegates to the Lower House. The state in 1786 had not recovered from the exhaustion due to the Revolutionary War, and the support of the many new deputies, due to the increase of the towns, was a burden which the October legislation of that year attempted to lighten. With the object of cutting down state expenses a bill was introduced into the House to refer to the freemen some proposition for reducing the number of their delegates and for equalizing representation. Mr. James Davenport of Stamford moved to substitute for the bill [c] another in which this reduction should be made by the legislature without submitting the proposed change to the freemen. This was objected to on the ground that a reduction of delegates was a constitutional question, “the Assembly having no right to alter the representation without authority given by their constituents.” The supporters of the bill contended with Mr. Davenport that–

_we have no Constitution_ but the laws of the State. The _Charter is not the Constitution_. By the Revolution _that_ was abrogated. A law of the State gave a subsequent sanction to that which was before of no force; if that law be valid, any alteration made by a later act will also be valid; if not, we have no Constitution, so defined, as to preclude the Legislature from exercising _any_ power necessary for the good of the people.

The bill was carried over to the May session of 1787, when it was defeated by sixty-two yeas to seventy-five nays, the towns of Hartford, East Hartford, Berlin, Stamford and Woodbury favoring it. A confidential letter of February, 1787, from Dr. Gale, the probable author of “Brief, decent but free Remarks or Observations on Several Laws passed by the Honorable Legislature of the State of Connecticut since the year 1775, by a Friend to his Country,” suggested that in addition to the reduction of representatives, laws should be passed forbidding any citizen to hold, at the same time, more than one place of public trust, either civil or military, and also requiring an increase in the number of councilors, or senators, from the total of twelve to three from each county. [d] Dr. Gale believed that if these senators should be elected by each county, and not upon a general ticket, the change would be beneficial. [195]

In regard to the senators, the Fundamental Orders prescribed that nominations for the magistrates should be made by the towns through their deputies to the fall session of the General Court, and that the election should take place the following spring at the Court of Elections. As the life of the colony expanded, modifications of this rule were made; in time, vote by proxy took the place of the freeman’s presence at the Court of Election. After 1689, the Assistants to be nominated, twenty in number, were balloted for in the fall town meetings. The sealed lists were sent to the legislature, where they were opened, and the ticket for the spring election was made out from the twenty names receiving the largest vote. The Court could no longer as in earlier times add any new names. Hence, the custom grew up of listing nominations, not according to popularity, but first according to seniority in office, and then according to the number of votes received. These lists were published in the papers throughout the state. The candidates for election were presented at the April town meetings, where each name was read in order and voted upon. A much later enactment provided twelve ballots, and forbade any one to cast more than twelve, whether for or against a candidate or in blank. If a man held any one of his slips in reserve for a more satisfactory candidate, he had none for the teller, and thus the secrecy of the ballot was almost destroyed. New candidates or those not up for reelection, whose names appeared at the foot of the list, whatever the number of votes received, were sometimes kept waiting years for an election, until those above them had died in office or resigned. [e] For instance, Jonathan Ingersoll received 4600 votes in nomination in 1792, while the senior councilor, William Williams, had only 2000; yet Williams’s name was preferred, and Ingersoll’s had to wait over another year, when he was again nominated and elected, and held his seat from 1793 to 1798. An election was a wearisome affair, and many men would not stay until the voting upon the list was finished, preferring for various reasons to cast an early ballot. The natural tendency was to support the experienced and known, even if indifferently efficient councilor, rather than to vote for an untried and unfamiliar man whose name would come up later, or even for popular men who could not be proposed until far into the day. As a result the party in power felt assured of their continuance in office. Moreover, proxies for the election were returned in April, but the result was not announced until the legislature met in May, nor was there any supervision compelling an honest count. Thus it was easy to keep in office Federal candidates, and thus the Senate, or Council, came to reflect public opinion about twenty years behind the popular sentiment. Furthermore, the clergy of the Establishment would get together and talk matters over before the elections, and the parish minister would endeavor to direct his people’s vote according to his opinion of what was best for the commonwealth. This ministerial influence was not shaken until about 1817.

There was still another grievance against the Council besides that just mentioned. It had come to be almost a Privy Council for advice and consultation. Furthermore it was, until 1807, the Supreme Court of the state to which lay appeals in all cases, civil or criminal, where errors of law had been committed in the trial courts. Its twelve members were mostly, if not all, lawyers, holding a tremendous power of patronage over the members of the Lower House, many of whom were also lawyers, eager for preferment; over the courts throughout the state, from which, since 1792, the old non-professional judges had been debarred, and also over the militia, whose officers, from the earliest times, had been appointed by the General Court. Further, the united action of the two houses was necessary to pass or to repeal a law, and thus much important legislation centred upon a majority of seven in the Council.

Furthermore, at the opening of the nineteenth century, the courts of law also were thought to need reorganizing. The judges were declared partisan, as they naturally would be under the conditions of their appointment. The Republicans could not meet the Federals upon an equal footing in the state tribunals. They were disparaged in their business relations, “were treated as a degraded party, and this treatment was extended to all the individuals of the party however worthy or respectable; in fact as the Saxons were treated by the Normans and the Irish by the English government.” [196]

Because of these political conditions, early in statehood, there were three schools of politicians; namely, those who approved a constitutional convention, expressly called to frame a new constitution; those who wished such a convention merely to amend the existing charter-constitution; and those, until 1800, predominately in the majority, who were convinced that whether the state had a constitution or not was a most frivolous and baneful question, mooted only by “visionary theorists,” or by those who were desirous of a change, no matter how disastrous it might be to good government. The conservative party held that, since the charter had been drawn according to the tenor of a draft submitted by Winthrop and outlining the government according to the Fundamental Orders, framed in 1639 by the “inhabitants and residents of Hartford, Windsor and Wethersfield,” the charter was not a grant of privileges but an approval asked and obtained for a government already existing. Consequently, such government as had been exercised before and was continued under the charter was essentially a creation of the people. It therefore needed only the declarative act of the legislature to annul those clauses of the charter that bound the colony to the crown and to continue over into statehood the government of the colonial period. Further, granting that the separation from Great Britain annulled the constitution, the subsequent conduct of the people in assenting to, approving of, and acquiescing in such acts of the legislature, had established and rendered those acts valid and binding, and had given them all the force and authority of an express contract. [197] Such discussion of constitutional questions, confined at first to the few, spread among the many after Leland’s attack upon the charter, and were debated with great earnestness. Leland’s attack gained him, at the time, comparatively few adherents, but it brought the question of disestablishment fairly before the people, demonstrating to the discontented that there was very little hope for larger liberty, for greater justice, until the power of legislation, granted by the old charter, should be curtailed, and the bond between Church and State severed.

The growth in Connecticut of the Democratic-Republican party, outside its following among Methodists, Baptists and a few radical thinkers, was very slow. The Episcopalians were held in much higher esteem by the Federal members of the Establishment, or “Standing Order,” as they were called, than were the other dissenters. Yet notwithstanding the wealth and conservatism of the sect, they were looked at askance when it came to giving them political office, for the old dislike to a Churchman still lingered in New England. Accordingly, they were somewhat dissatisfied at the treatment they received as political allies of the Standing Order, and, in order to quiet their incipient discontent, the government thought best to occasionally extend some small favor to them. So in 1799, the legislature granted them a charter for a fund for their bishop which they were trying to raise. About the same time, Yale first conferred upon an Episcopal clergyman the title of doctor of divinity. The transfer of the annual fast day to coincide with Good Friday was appreciated by the Churchmen. The change was first made in 1795, and came about through Governor Huntington’s friendship for Bishop Seabury, and because of a desire to remove from the public mind a misapprehension, arising from the refusal of the Episcopal church in New London to comply with President Washington’s proclamation for a national Thanksgiving. [f] From 1797 this change of fast-day became customary. It removed the long-standing complaint that Presbyterian days of fasting or rejoicing frequently occurred during Episcopal feasts or fasts. At an earlier period, the ignoring of such public proclamations was sometimes made the occasion for imposing fines for the benefit of the Establishment.

As has been said, the Republican gains were greater among the Methodists and Baptists. This was partly because not a few among these dissenters associated Jefferson’s party with his efforts towards disestablishment in Virginia in 1785. Out of Connecticut’s population of two hundred and fifty thousand, the Republicans counted upon recruits from the Methodist body, numbering, in 1802, one thousand six hundred and fifty-eight, and from the Baptists, approximating four thousand six hundred and sixty members. In 1798-1800 the division of the Federalists over national issues strengthened the Republicans in Connecticut, as they were the successors to the Anti-Federalists, those “visionary theorists” of 1786. The new Democratic-Republican party received further additions to their ranks through the opposition in Connecticut to the Federal and obnoxious “Stand-up Law” of 1801. This law, which required a man to stand when voting for the nomination of senators, “was made to catch the secret vote of the Republicans,” [198] and revealed at once the opposition of every dissenter, debtor, employee, or of any one who had cause to fear injury to himself if he gave an honest vote. It was passed by a compact and reunited body of Federalists whose boast was that no division upon national questions could affect their unity and strength in the Land of Steady Habits.

The Republican-Democratic party in the state would have gained recruits more rapidly had it not been for its attitude as a national party toward France. To appreciate the situation in Connecticut, one must consider, first of all, the influence of the French Revolution. One must realize the intense interest, the mingled exultation and terror with which conservatives who, though they might differ in their religious preferences, were yet the rank and file of the state, watched its varying aspects from its outbreak in 1789 on through the years of its earliest experiments in statecraft, of its exaggerated exploitation of “liberty, equality, and fraternity,” and of its casting off of all religious bonds and trammels. As the Federal party lost its sympathy with the French cause the attitude of the nation changed. The consolidated factions of the Anti-Federalists, however, increased their ardor for the French republic, and took from 1792 the name Democratic-Republican. They carried their keen sympathy even to expressing their French sentiments by their dress and manners. The change in the national attitude was reflected in Connecticut by the whole-hearted antipathy of large numbers of her people to what they considered “radicalism of the most destructive character.” English Arianism and Arminianism, with which the Edwardeans had waged war, were nothing compared to the influx of French infidelity and atheism which appeared to be sweeping over the land. Books formerly guarded by the clergy were on sale everywhere. They found among the masses many like Aaron Burr, who, during his period of study with Dr. Bellamy, had preferred the logic of the printed books upon the shelves to that of the master who placed them there. Dr. Bellamy proposed to confute the pernicious arguments of these books, bringing them one by one before his select body of students, so that they should be able to guide their future parishioners when the insidious poison of these dangerous authors, these “followers of Satan,” should force its way among them.

All sects attempted to oppose such an influx of irreligion. All but the Episcopalians fell back upon revivals as their chief means. In these revivals the Methodists and Congregationalists were perhaps the most successful in securing converts. The policy of the Episcopal church did not favor this phase of religious life. It felt that its whole attitude was a protest against exaggerated liberty, or license, and against all atheistical ideas. During the revivals the Baptists, also, added largely to their numbers. The Methodists, however, brought to their revival meetings the peculiar strength of fervent proselytes to a new faith; of one rapidly becoming popular, appealing strongly to the emotions, and having a touch of martyrdom still clinging to its profession. Among those Federalists who were also Congregationalists, the French Revolution was believed to be the “result of a combination long since formed in Europe by infidels and atheists to root out and effectually destroy religion and civil government.” Holding this opinion; seeing the Baptists and Methodists increasing in importance, both in the nation and in the state; watching the continual increase of the unorthodox and of the freethinker, and perceiving the growing loss of confidence in the Federal party both in the nation and the state, the Standing Order felt itself face to face with imminent peril. It scented danger to itself and to the existence of the commonwealth. But it sadly lacked a great leader, until the year 1795, when it found one in the recently elected president of Yale, the Rev. Timothy Dwight. He was a grandson of Jonathan Edwards, and was a man of amazing energy, of varied training, and of great personal charm.

In his experience Dr. Dwight counted a college education, a theological training under Jonathan Edwards, Jr., a tutorship at Yale, a chaplaincy among the rough soldiers of the war of the Revolution, home-life on his father’s farm at Northampton, where the men in the field vied with each other “to rake or hoe beside Timothy” in order to hear him talk. In political life Dr. Dwight had served an apprenticeship in the General Court of Massachusetts, where he sat as deputy from Northampton. He had had experience as a preacher in several small towns, and as pastor at Greenfield Hill, a part of Fairfield. There he had added to his income by establishing the Greenfield Academy for both sexes. Upon accepting the presidency of Yale he became also professor of theology, and in addition he took under his special care the courses in rhetoric and oratory. These last two, together with literature, had, he thought, been entirely too much neglected. [g] His coming was a forecast of the man of the nineteenth century.[199] Dr. Stiles had been a fine type of the eighteenth. Dr. Dwight was a man of less acquirements in languages, but he was a more accurate scholar, of broader intelligence, and with a mind well stocked and ready. He had a pleasing power of expression, was tactful, and could readily adapt himself to men and circumstances. It was he who was to give Yale its initial movement from college to university. He himself was to become a celebrated teacher and theologian. He was to be one of the founders of the New England school, whose principles Dr. Taylor, in 1827, was to make known under the name of the New Haven Theology. [h] In his own day Dr. Dwight was equally celebrated as a power both in religion and politics. “Pope Dwight” his enemies termed him, and they nicknamed his ministerial following his “bishops,” while they dubbed the Council or Senators “his Twelve Cardinals.”

Outside his college duties, and as a part of his care for its spiritual welfare, President Dwight’s immediate purpose was to combine all forces that could be used to stem the dangerous currents rushing against the bulwarks of Church and State. He had early favored the drawing together of Congregational and Presbyterian bodies. He had discerned, as early as 1792, a stirring of new life in the religious world, the breaking down of the apathy of half a century that had been indicated by revivals in places far scattered, not only throughout New England but in other states. Towns in Massachusetts, with East Haddam and Lyme in Connecticut, had been roused as early as the year named. That element of personal experience which had been so marked a feature of the Great Awakening reappeared, but without that excessive emotionalism [i] which characterized the earlier revival. Nor was there any such pronounced leadership as then. There was the same conviction of sinfulness, the peace after its acknowledgment, and the joyous satisfaction in the determination to lead an upright life, seeking God’s grace and will. Recognition of this spiritual awakening had in some measure entered into the proposed disposal of the money from the Western Lands, as it had also in the discussion of the joint missionary work of 1791-1794, and again in 1797-98, [200] when the General Association of Connecticut was incorporated as the Connecticut Missionary Society, [j] In all of these movements President Dwight had taken an active part. Upon entering the presidency of Yale he at once began a series of sermons, which he delivered Sunday mornings, and which were so arranged that in each four years the course was complete. These lectures were his “Theology Explained and Defended,” first published in 1818. President Dwight, with the leading Presbyterian or Congregational ministers, together with the Methodist and Baptist clergy, continued to favor the revival movement. This reached its height in 1807. From beginning to end it lasted nearly a quarter of a century, and was punctuated by the revival years of 1798, 1800, and 1802, that were especially fruitful of conversions in Connecticut. That of 1802 attracted large numbers of the college students. The success of the revivals was marked by increasing austerities, such as the denunciation of amusements, both public and private, and the revival of dead-letter laws for the more strict observance of Sunday. Traveling or driving was prohibited without a pass signed by a justice of the peace. Travelers were held up over “holy time.” Attempts were made to prevent the young people from gathering in companies on Sunday evenings after the Sabbath was legally over. Too much hilarity, though innocent, was condemned. Such restrictions were extremely distasteful to a large minority in the state, and seemed to many citizens only repeated proofs of how closely the government and the Presbyterian-Congregational church were banded together. Accordingly the Republicans began to think it was time to test the strength of such a platform as they could put forth while making a bid for the whole dissenting vote.

The election of Adams and Jefferson [k] in 1797 was a spur to both parties, lending hope to the scattered Republicans, and prodding the recently over-confident Federalists. In March, 1798, the whole nation was roused almost to forgetfulness of party lines by the anger created by the publication of the “X Y Z Papers.” A few months later the Federal party, through its Alien and Sedition laws, had lost its renewed hold upon the nation. Connecticut denounced the Virginia and Kentucky resolutions of 1798-99, and was to all appearances stanchly Federal. But her leaders were looking for another presidential candidate than Adams, while the Republicans, elate with the anticipated national victory in 1800, were making preparations to catch any and every dissatisfied voter in the state. The scattered Republican clubs and committees awoke to new activity. As Jefferson kept his party well in hand, and let the national dissatisfaction increase that he might rush to victory at the presidential election of 1800, so the Connecticut Republicans matured their plans. They did not formally organize their party till 1800, first making sure of their great leader as the nation’s executive, and almost of his reelection. Then they began to urge the acceptance of their platform upon the oppressed Connecticut dissenters, and to taunt the Federal Episcopalians with an allegiance that as late as 1802 had not been thought of sufficient worth to warrant the small favor of a college charter for their academy at Cheshire. The Federalists attempted to disarm the Episcopal dissatisfaction over the refusal by granting them a license for a lottery to raise $15,000 for the bishop’s fund.

The leader of the Republicans in Connecticut was Pierpont Edwards, a recently appointed United States district judge. He was brother of Jonathan Edwards, Jr., for years the pastor of the North Church at New Haven, and in 1800 president of Union College. This Republican leader was the maternal uncle of his opponent in Federal state politics, President Dwight, and also of the Republican Vice-President, Aaron Burr. Another nephew of his was Theodore Dwight, the brother of Yale’s president, who led the Federal civilians, and who was editor of the “Hartford Courant,” the organ of the Connecticut Federalists. The Hartford “American Mercury” voiced the sentiments of the Republicans. The latter party throughout the state was formally organized in 1800 at a meeting in New Haven, the home of Mr. Edwards and of his henchman, Abraham Bishop, son of that city’s mayor.

The close personal relationship of the leaders, [l] the scorn of the radicals, the abhorrence of the conservatives for the principles, opinions, and even, in some cases, habits of life of their opponents, entered into the strife and vituperation of the political campaigns from 1800 to 1806. Personalities were unsparing, passion rose high, and speeches were bitter. This was particularly the case in New Haven, where Abraham Bishop’s impudent boldness of attack and denunciation was exaggerated by his father’s position. Samuel Bishop, the father, was a man of seventy-seven, and old in the service of both Church and State. He was senior deacon in the North Church, or what was at that time known as the Church of the United White Haven and Fair Haven Societies. He was also a justice of the peace, town clerk, and mayor of the city. The last office was held, according to the charter, during the pleasure of the legislature. Samuel Bishop was also chief judge of the court of common pleas for New Haven County, and sole judge of probate, annual offices which the General Assembly had re-conferred upon him in 1800 and in 1801. His son was a graduate of Yale (1778). He was a lawyer of somewhat indifferent practice, and from 1791 to 1798 clerk of the county court under his father, while from 1798 he had been clerk of the superior court. Before settling down to practice at the bar he had lived abroad, and had been caught in the whirl of French thought and democratic ideas. He had returned home bearing words of recommendation to Washington’s secretary of state from Jefferson’s European friends. A personal meeting with that party leader had added to Bishop’s enthusiasm. For some years he had lived in Boston, and tried his hand at literature. He had returned to New Haven in 1791, and had thrown himself into politics. He purposely exaggerated his opinions. He was careless of his unorthodox expressions even to the verge of blasphemy. Though himself a believer in God, he was perhaps what one would probably have termed a little later a Unitarian. His enemies exaggerated his exaggerations,–and Unitarianism was a crime according to the Connecticut statutes. [m]

In his speeches and essays Abraham Bishop struck out boldly, with earnestness, logic, shrewd wit, and irony, and, as has been said, at times with dangerous irreverence,–often with down-right impudence when that would serve his purpose. An illustration of his extreme use of it was in 1800, about the time of the organization of the Republican party throughout the state.

He had been honored with the Phi Beta Kappa oration, annually delivered on the eve of the Yale Commencement, then in September. A polished literary effort was expected. He broke tradition, courtesy, and every implied obligation in the choice of his subject. In August he sent to the committee his paper for their acceptance or refusal. It was entitled “The Extent and Power of Political Delusions,” and was an out and out campaign document. The presidential election was due in November! Further, Bishop made political capital of the anticipated refusal of his paper, which was not sent him until the eleventh hour. The readers of the morning paper, wherein the committee offered an apology for the change of speakers at the Society’s meeting to be held that night, were confronted by the announcement that the refused address would be given to all who cared to listen to it in the parlors of the White Haven church that same evening, and by the still further notice that copies of it were fresh from the printer’s hands and were ready to be distributed to the remotest parts of the state. Needless to state, the Phi Beta Kappa audience dwindled away to swell the crowd of fifteen hundred, wherein Bishop gleefully counted “eight clergymen and many ladies.” The address met with great favor, and the Wallingford Republicans at their celebration of March 11, 1801, in honor of the election of Jefferson and Burr, asked Mr. Bishop to be their orator. [n]

To top Bishop’s insult,–as it was regarded by every friend of the Standing Order,–came in the following spring Jefferson’s displacement of Elizur Goodrich, President Adams’s appointee as collector of the port of New Haven, and the substitution of Samuel Bishop. President Jefferson considered himself at liberty to make this change; and all the more so because President Adams had made the appointment as one of his last official acts, when he must have known it would have been unacceptable to the incoming Republican administration. The merchants of New Haven immediately united in a petition to President Jefferson, in which they declared that Samuel Bishop was too old to perform the duties of the office, and, moreover, not acquainted with accounts. Assuming that his son Abraham would assist him, they denounced the latter as “entirely destitute of public confidence, so conspicuous for his enmity to commerce and opposition to order, so odious to his fellow citizens, that we presume his warmest partizans would not have hazarded a recommendation of him.” Notwithstanding this protest the appointment was continued, the President pointing out the honors bestowed upon the father and the care with which he, Jefferson, had investigated the case before acting upon it. Reproving the authorities for so long excluding the Republicans entirely from office, Jefferson expressed his regret at finding upon his accession to the presidency not even a “moderate participation in office in the hands of the majority.” He further stated that when such a situation was in some measure relieved he would be only too glad to make the question “Is he capable? Is he honest? Is he faithful to the Constitution?” the only tests for obtaining and holding office. Samuel Bishop died in 1803, and the collector ship was then bestowed upon his son, who held it until his death in 1829.

In Connecticut the two political parties prepared for conflict. The Republicans desired a new constitution and disestablishment. The old constitutional and religious debates were opened and fiercely fought out in pamphlet, press, sermon, and political oration. Noah Webster replied to the “Extent and Power of Political Delusion” by “A Rod for the Fool’s Back.” John Leland published his famous Hartford speech as “A Blow at the Root, a fashionable Fast-Day Sermon,” and his “High Flying Churchman,” as contributions in behalf of civil and religious liberty. Abraham Bishop took up the latter topic in his “Wallingford Address, Proofs of a Conspiracy Against Christianity and the Government of the United States,” published in 1802, as well as in his “Extent and Power of Political Delusion” of 1800. A fair type of Mr. Bishop’s style and treatment is shown in his “Connecticut Republicanism,” a campaign document, wherein he sets forth his opinion of the union of Church and State. [o]

In his campaign document under the title “Connecticut Republicanism” Bishop declared:

Christianity has suffered more by the attempts to unite church and state than by all the deistical writings, yet the men who denounce them are pronounced atheists and no proof of their atheism is required but their opposition to Federal measures…. Church and state cannot be better served than by keeping them distinct and by placing them where they ought to be, above, instead of beneath the control of men who care no more for either of them than they can turn to their personal benefit. The self-styled friends of order have in all nations been the cause of all the convulsions and distresses which have agitated the world…. The clergyman preaches politics, the civilian prates of orthodoxy, and if any man refuse to join their coalition they endeavor to hunt him down to the tune “The Church is in danger.”… In 1787 this visible intolerance had abated in New England; there was no written law in force that none but church-members should be free burgesses: yet the avowed charge of Christ’s church was in our law-books, some nice points of theology were settled in our statutes and the common law of church and state was in full force…. The Trinitarian doctrine is established by laws, and the denial of it is placed in the rank of felony. Though we have ceased to transplant from town to town Quakers, New Lights, and Baptists; yet the dissenters from our prevailing denominations are even at this moment praying for a repeal of those laws which abridge the rights of conscience.

* * * * *

Break the league of church and state which first subjugates your consciences, then treating your understanding like galley slaves, robs you of religion and civil freedom…. Thirty thousand freemen are against the union of church and state. Thirty thousand more men, deprived of voting because they are not rich or learned enough, are ready to join them. [201]

In his “Wallingford Address,” Bishop exclaims “The clerical _politician_ is a useless preacher; the _political_ Christian is a dangerous statesman.” On the title page of this address appeared the epigram, “Our statesmen to the Constitution; our Clergy to the Bible.” The unfortunately irreverent parallel which Bishop drew between the Saviour of the world and the leader of the national Republican party, or of the democracy or common people, gave to the epigram an evil significance not intended, and to its author a reputation not wholly deserved.

David Daggett, a prominent New Haven Federalist and lawyer, [p] tried in “Facts are Stubborn Things” to refute the charge that the people were priest-ridden, the legislature arbitrary and tyrannical, the clergy bigots. In the course of his argument he gives an account of the reception of a Baptist petition which, voicing the smouldering discontent that was kept burning by the certificate law, had been presented to the legislature. Daggett charged the Republicans with instituting the custom of holding their party meetings in Hartford and New Haven at the time of the meeting of the Assembly in those cities, and of making the political gathering a means of directing what topics should be brought up for discussion in the House of Representatives, and what discussed in their party organ the “American Mercury.” Daggett accused the Republicans of purposely choosing subjects of discussion of an inflammable character, and declared that it was in Babcock’s paper (so called from its editor) that the Baptist petition originated, which, circulated through the state, received some three thousand signatures, “many of whom doubtless sought the public good.” [202] The petition was presented for trial in 1802 and a day set for its hearing, upon which Mr. Pierpont Edwards and Mr. Gideon Granger were to advocate it. The gentlemen, according to Mr. Daggett’s account, did not appear, and of course no trial was held. Instead, the Assembly referred it to a committee of eighteen from the two houses. Mr. Daggett insisted that “it was thoroughly canvassed, and every gentleman professed himself entirely satisfied that there was no ground of complaint which the Legislature could remove, except John T. Peters, Esq., who declared that nothing short of an entire repeal of the law for the support of religion would accord with his idea.”

The truth of the matter was that the committee were chiefly Federalists. Mr. Peters was a Republican. In their answer to the petition, the committee assumed that it “was an equitable principle, that every member of the society should, in some way, contribute to the support of religious institutions and so the complaint of those who declined to support any such institution was invalid.” If there was ground for complaint because of sequestration of property for the benefit of Presbyterians only, the committee failed to find any such cause, and if such existed, the proper channel of appeal was through the courts. All other complaints in the petition were considered to be answered by the assumption that the legislature had the right, on the ground of utility, to compel contributions for the support of religion, schools, and courts, whether or not every individual taxpayer had need of them. The next year, 1803, the petition gained a hearing, but that was all. It continued to be presented at every session of the Assembly, and was first heard by both houses in 1815. It was finally withdrawn at the session that passed the bill for the new constitution of 1818.

As one of the preliminary steps in the education of the people in Republican principles and aims, John Strong of Norwich in 1804 founded the “True Republican,” thus giving a second paper for the dissemination of Republican opinions. From 1792 the “Phenix or Windham Herald” had been dealing telling blows at the Establishment and at the courts of law through a discussion in its columns carried on by Judge Swift, the inveterate foe of the union of Church and State, and a lawyer, frank to avow that partiality existed in the administration of justice. Though both the paper and the judge were strongly Federal in their politics, they were both materially helping the Republican advocates of reform. From the Windham press came, also, a republication of “A Review of the Ecclesiastical Establishments of Europe,” edited by R. Huntington, with special reference to the bearing of its arguments upon the conditions existing in Connecticut, where illustration could be found of the absurdities and dangers that the book had been originally written to expose. In 1803 John Leland, representing forty-two Baptist clergymen, twenty licensed exhorters, four thousand communicants, and twenty thousand attendants, sent out another plea for disestablishment in his “Van Tromp lowering his Peak with a Broadside, containing a Plea for the Baptists of Connecticut.” In it he urges that thirteen states have already granted religious liberty, and that many of them have formed newer constitutions since the Revolution. Such should also be the case in Connecticut. Moreover, it could readily be accomplished at the small cost of five cents per man. Such a small sum would pay the expenses of a convention to formulate a constitution and another to ratify it, while five cents more per person would furnish every citizen with a copy of the proposed document, so that each could decide for himself upon the constitutionality of any measure proposed, and would no longer be obliged to read pamphlet after pamphlet or column after column in the newspaper to determine its validity. [203]

All this was preparatory; and the first purely political note of warning and call to battle for a new constitution was sounded by Abraham Bishop at Hartford, May 11, 1804, in his “Oration in Honor of the Election of President Jefferson and the peaceful acquisition of Louisiana.” He sums up the situation thus:–

Connecticut has no Constitution. On the day independence was declared, the old charter of Charles II became null and void. It was derived from royal authority, and went down with royal authority. Then, the people ought to have met in convention and framed a Constitution. But the General Assembly interposed, usurped the rights of the people, and enacted that the government provided for in the charter should he the civil constitution of the State. Thus all the abuses inflicted on us when subjects of a crown, were fastened on us anew when we became citizens of a free republic. We still live under the old jumble of legislative, executive and judicial powers, called a Charter. We still suffer from the old restrictions on the right to vote; we are still ruled by the whims of seven men. Twelve make the council. Seven form a majority, and in the hands of these seven are all powers, legislative, executive and judicial. Without their leave no law can pass; no law can be repealed. On them more than half of the House of the Assembly is dependent for re-appointments as justices, judges, or for promotion in the militia. By their breath are, each year, brought into official life six judges of the Superior Court, twenty-eight of the probate, forty of county courts, and five hundred and ten justices of the peace, and, as often as they please, all the sheriffs. Not only do they make laws, but they plead before justices of their own appointment, and as a Court of Errors interpret the laws of their own making. Is this a Constitution? Is this an instrument of government for freemen? And who may be freemen? No one who does not have a freehold estate worth seven dollars a year, or a personal estate on the tax list of one hundred and thirty-four dollars…. For these evils there is but one remedy, and this remedy we demand shall be applied. _We demand a constitution that shall separate the legislative, executive and judicial power, extend the freeman’s oath to men who labor on highways, who serve in the militia, who pay small taxes, but possess no estates._ [204]

Abraham Bishop threw down the gauntlet, and in the following July his party issued a circular letter. It emanated from the Republican General Committee, of which Pierpont Edwards was chairman. It stated “that many very respectable Republicans are of the opinion that it is high time to speak to the citizens of Connecticut plainly and explicitly on the subject of forming a constitution; but this ought not to be done without the approbation of the party.” A general meeting was proposed to be held in New Haven on August 29, 1804. In response, ninety-seven towns sent Republican delegates to assemble at the state house in New Haven on that date. Major William Judd of Farmington was chosen chairman. The meeting was held with closed doors, and a series of resolutions was passed in favor of adopting a new constitution. It was declared “the unanimous opinion of this meeting that the people of this state are at present without a constitution of civil government,” and “that it is expedient to take measures preparatory to the formation of the Constitution and that a committee be appointed to draft an Address to the People of this State on that subject.” The address reported by this committee was printed in New Haven on a small half-sheet with double columns, and ten thousand copies were ordered distributed through the state.

The issue was fairly before the people. From the Federal side, just before the September elections, came David Daggett’s “Count the Cost,” in which he ably reviewed the Republican manifesto, impugning the motives of the leaders of the Republican party, and eloquently urging every friend of the Standing Order and every freeman to “count the cost” before voting with the Republicans for the proposed reform.

The fall election of 1804 was lost to the Republicans, for while they made many gains here and there throughout the state, [q] the immediate slight access to the Federal ranks showed that the people generally were not yet ready for a constitutional change.

As one result of the defeat at the polls, there arose a wider sympathy for the defeated party. When the legislature met in October, the Federal leaders resolved to administer punishment to the defeated Republicans. So strong was the popular feeling, and so determined the attitude of the legislature, that it summoned before it all five of the justices of the peace [r] who had attended the New Haven convention of August 29, to show why they did not deserve to be deprived of their commissions. Their oath of office ran “to be true and faithful to the Governor and Company of this state, and the Constitution and government thereof.” What right, the Federals asked, had they to attack a constitution they had sworn to uphold? At the same time, several of the militia, known to be of Republican sympathies, were also deposed or superseded. Mr. Pierpont Edwards was allowed to make the defense for the justices. Mr. Daggett appeared for the state. Reviewing the proceedings of the Republican meeting, Mr. Daggett traced the history of the government of the colony and state in order to demonstrate that the charter was peculiarly a constitution of the people, “_made by the people_ and in a sense not applicable to any other people.” He declared the New Haven “address” an outrage upon decency, and it to be the duty of the Assembly to withdraw their commissions from men who questioned the existence of the constitution under which they held them. The day after the hearing, a bill to revoke the commissions was passed unanimously by the governor and council, and by a majority of eleven in the Lower House, the vote standing 67 yeas to 56 nays. This attempt to stifle public opinion won a general acknowledgment that the minority were oppressed. The feeling of sympathy thus roused was increased by the death of Major Judd, who had been taken ill after his arrival in New Haven. His partisans asserted that his death was caused by his efforts to save himself and friends, and his consequent obligation to appear at the trial when really too ill to be about. The day after his death, the Republicans published and distributed broadcast his “Address to the people of the State of Connecticut on the subject of the removal of himself and four other justices from office.”

From this time forward the minority thoroughly realized that it was “not a matter of talking down but of voting down their opponents.” Their leaders also understood it. Bishop entered the lists, not only against his political antagonist David Daggett, but against such men as Professor Silliman, Simeon Baldwin, Noah Webster, Theodore Dwight, and against the clergy, led by President Dwight, Simon Backus, Isaac Lewis, John Evans, and a host of secondary men who turned their pulpits into lecture desks and the public fasts and feasts into electioneering occasions. Their general plea was that religion preserved the morals of the people, and consequently their civil prosperity, and hence the need for state support. Occasionally one would insist that it was a matter of conscience with the Presbyterians which made them enforce ecclesiastical taxes and fines, and that all had been given the dissenters that could be; that the Presbyterians had “yielded every privilege they themselves enjoyed and subjected them (the dissenters) to no inconvenience, not absolutely indispensable to the countenance of the practice” (of dissent). David Daggett maintained that there was a just and wide-spread alarm lest the Republicans should undermine all religion, and therefore it behooved all the friends of stable government to support the Standing Order.

The Republicans vigorously contested the elections of 1804,1805, and 1806. Their second general convention, that of August, 1806, at Litchfield, was more outspoken in its criticism, and so much bolder in its demands that many conservative people hesitated to follow its programme. The Republican gains were so small that after 1806 there was a lull in the agitation for constitutional reform for some years. It was well understood that the religious establishment was the greatest clog upon the government. It was also thoroughly understood by many that its destruction meant the destruction of the Federal party in Connecticut. Consequently the Federal patronage distributed the several thousand offices within the gift of Church and State with a “liberality equalled only by the fidelity with which they were paid for.” So firm was the Federal control over the state that even in 1804 they risked antagonizing the Episcopalians by again refusing to charter the Cheshire Academy as a college with authority to confer degrees in art, divinity, and law. In the face of a strong protest, it was refused again in 1810. The House approved this last petition, but the Council rejected it. Naturally, the Episcopalians felt still more aggrieved when in 1812 the charter was once more refused; but still they did not desert the Federal party. The latter clung to the spoils of office for their partisans, to the old restrictive franchise, and to the obnoxious Stand-up Law, nor were they less disdainful of the dissenters and of the Republican minority.

Yet many of their best men had come to feel that there was wrong and injustice done the minority; that there should be a stop put to the open ignoring of Democratic lawyers, numbering in their ranks many men of wide learning and of great practical ability; that the spectacle of a Federal state-attorney prosecuting Republican editors was not edifying, and that the imprisonment of such offenders and their trial before a hostile judiciary opened that branch of the state government to damaging and dangerous suspicion. [205]

In July, 1812, a meeting was called in Judge Baldwin’s office in New Haven, with President Dwight in the chair, to organize a Society for the Suppression of Vice and the Promotion of Good Morals. At this meeting the political situation was thoroughly discussed, and measures were taken to cope with it.

I am persuaded [wrote the Rev. Lyman Beecher to Rev. Asahel Hooker in the following November] that the time has come when it becomes every friend of the State to wake up and exert his whole influence to save it from innovation…. That the effort to supplant Governor Smith [s] will be made is certain unless at an early stage the noise of rising opposition will be so great as to deter them; and if it is made, a separation is made in the Federal party and a coalition with Democracy, which will in my opinion be permanent, unless the overthrow by the election should throw them into despair or inspire repentance.

If we stand idle we lose our habits and institutions piecemeal, as fast as innovations and ambitions shall dare to urge on the work.

My request is that you will see Mr. Theodore Dwight, expressing to him your views on the subject, … and that you will in your region touch every spring, _lay_ or clerical, which you can touch prudently, that these men do not steal a march upon us, and that the rising opposition may meet them early, before they have gathered strength. Every blow struck now will have double the effect it will after the parties are formed and the lines drawn. I hope we shall not act independently, but I hope we shall all act, who fear God or regard men. [206]

Writing of the meeting to organize the Society for the Suppression of Vice and the Formation of Good Morals, Dr. Beecher in his “Autobiography” gives a sketch of the politics of the time that had led up to the occasion. One of the prominent actors of the time, he tells us that this meeting, composed of prominent Federalists of all classes, was unusual, for–

it was a new thing in that day for the clergy and laymen to meet on the same level and co-operate. It was the first time there had ever been such a consultation in our day. The ministers had always managed things themselves, for in those days the ministers were all politicians. They had always been used to it from the beginning…. On election day they had a festival, and, fact is, when they got together they would talk over who should be Governor, and who Lieutenant-Governor, and who in the Upper House, and their councils would prevail. Now it was a part of the old steady habits of the state … that the Lieutenant-Governor should succeed to the governorship. And it was the breaking up of this custom by the civilians, against the influence of the clergy, that first shook the stability of the Standing Order and the Federal party in the state. Lieutenant Governor Treadwell (1810) was a stiff man, and the time had come when many nlen did not like that sort of thing. He had been active in the enforcement of the Sabbath laws, and had brought on himself the odium of the opposing party. Hence of the civilians of our party, David Daggett and other wire-pullers, worked to have him superseded, and Roger Griswold, the ablest man in Congress, put in his stead. That was rank rebellion against the ministerial candidate. But Daggett controlled the whole of Fairfleld County bar, and Griswold was a favorite with the lawyers, and the Democrats helped them because they saw how it would work; so there was no election by the people, and Treadwell was acting Governor till 1811, when Griswold was chosen. The lawyers, in talking about it, said: “We have served the clergy long enough; we must take another man, and they must look out for themselves.” Throwing Treadwell over in 1811 broke the charm and divided the party; persons of third-rate ability on our side who wanted to be somebody deserted; all the infidels in the state had long been leading on that side … minor sects had swollen and complained of certificates. Our efforts to reform morals by law were unpopular. [t]

Finally the Episcopalians went over to the Democrats. The Episcopal split was due to a foolish and arbitrary proceeding on the part of the Federals. In the spring of 1814, a petition was presented to the General Assembly for the incorporation of the Phoanix Bank of Hartford, offering “in conformity to the precedents in other states, to pay for the privilege of the incorporation herein prayed for, the sum of sixty thousand dollars to be collected (being a Premium to be advanced by the stockholders) as fast as the successive instalments of the capital stock shall be paid in; and to be appropriated, if in the opinion of your Honors it shall be deemed expedient, in such proportion as shall by your Honors be thought proper, to the use of the Corporation of Yale College, of the Medical Institution, established in the city of New Haven, and to the corporation of the Trustees of the Fund of the Bishop of the Episcopal church in this state, or for any purpose whatever, which to your Honors may seem best.” The capital asked for was $1,500,000. “The purpose of this offer [u] a was a double one,–creating an interest in favor of the Bank Charter among Episcopalians and retaining their influence on the side of the Charter Government, as there was no inconsiderable amount of talent among them.” The Bishop’s Fund, slowly gathering since 1799, amounted to barely $6000. This bonus would give it a good start, and conciliate the Episcopalians, still indignant at the refusal of the Assembly to incorporate their college. When presented to the Assembly, the Lower House favored the bank charter; the Council, rejecting it, appointed a committee to consider its request. They soon originated an act of incorporation, granting a capital of $1,000,000, and ordered