ONE
CATHOLICITY AND CONSCIENCE: THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY OF
1837
AND THE FRAGMENTATION OF BRITISH-AMERICAN
PROTESTANTISM
Between 1837 and 1845 most of the
leading denominations of North Atlantic Protestantism were rocked by a series
of church splits. The Church of Scotland lost nearly half of its ministers to
the Free Church Disruption of 1843, as 40% of the church departed in order to
maintain the spiritual independence of the church against state interference.[1] In 1844 and 1845 the Methodist and Baptist churches
in America divided north and south over the question of whether slavery was
sinful. It might appear that these divisions were unrelated, but the American
Presbyterian division of 1837 may cast some light on the tendency toward
fragmentation that existed in nineteenth-century Protestantism, and indeed, in
nineteenth-century culture. The 1830s and 1840s saw the first massive divisions
in four of the seven largest British-American denominations. The exceptions
were the Congregational churches (which had already split into
Unitarian/Trinitarian camps by 1820), the Church of England and the American
Episcopal church (both of which were divided internally by the Tractarian
movement and the Gorham case but did not separate).[2]
For centuries the concept of the
catholicity of the visible church had sufficient symbolic power to hold
churches together in the face of significant disagreements. When heresy
disrupted the unity of the church, this understanding of catholicity provided
for the discipline of heretics, setting the boundaries of orthodoxy for the
whole church.[3]
The Protestant Reformation did not
reject the idea of catholicity. It simply claimed that the Pope was a usurper,
who had arrogated to himself power that did not rightly belong to him. The
Reformers insisted that each regional church should be allowed to establish its
own creed, church order, and liturgy, maintaining fellowship among regional
churches, without requiring organizational unity. The Reformed confessions,
catechisms, church orders, and liturgies of the sixteenth century exhibit
similar structures, patterns and doctrines.[4] When the Dutch church faced a crisis over the
teaching of Jacob Arminius in the early seventeenth century, it called for all
the other Reformed churches to send delegates to the Synod of Dordt. When the
English Long Parliament sought to unite the British Isles, it called for an
assembly of ministers (the Westminster Assembly, 1642-48) to unify the churches
in doctrine, government, worship and discipline. The churches of Ireland,
Scotland and England would remain separate in structure, but would have common
standards.[5]
At least through the seventeenth
century, the principle of catholicity remained theoretically intact. The ideal
was to have one orthodox church in any given region. But cracks were growing in
the practice of catholicity. The Lutherans and the Reformed were only partly in
fellowship with each other–and in many places in Germany they co-existed in the
same area. In England a group of Independents had split off from the Church of
England, and while most Puritans remained within the Anglican Church, there was
a growing divide between Episcopalians and Presbyterians. The claims of
conscience had been relatively easy to press when the opponent was Rome–one
could simply identify Rome as the Babylon of Revelation and call for all true
believers to “Come out of her, my people, lest you share in her sins!” But it
became more difficult when the opponent was the Church of England–whose
Thirty-Nine Articles were reformed, and whose liturgy was formally similar to
those of the continental Reformed churches. But the Church of England had
retained a few “Popish ceremonies,” and there were some in the Anglican church
who plainly preferred certain Roman practices over those of the Reformed. While
the vast majority of English Puritans were faithful Anglicans, desirous merely
of reforming the church, not a few moved in a more radical direction. The
Congregationalists and Independents emphasized the purity of the local
congregation and rejected the concept of the regional church. Baptists went a
step further and rejected infant baptism as a relic of Romanism. From there it
was only another step to the Quakers who rejected ministers and sacraments
entirely–or to the Seekers who felt that the church had been entirely destroyed
and waited for God to send new apostles to reorganize the church.
It was in this context that the
Westminster Assembly declared in chapter 25 of its Confession that “The visible
church, which is also catholic or universal under the gospel (not confined to
one nation, as before under the law), consists of all those throughout the
world that profess the true religion; and of their children: and is the kingdom
of the Lord Jesus Christ, the house and family of God, out of which there is no
ordinary possibility of salvation.” In the fourth section they stated that
“This catholic church hath been sometimes more, sometimes less visible. And
particular churches, which are members thereof, are more or less pure,
according as the doctrine of the gospel is taught and embraced, ordinances
administered, and public worship performed more or less purely in them.” The
phrase “particular churches” commonly referred to the national or regional
churches such as the Church of Scotland, or the Church of Saxony.
1.
The New “Catholicity”
It was in America that this older
understanding of catholicity utterly disintegrated. While Europe was trying to
maintain catholicity through established churches that “tolerated” dissent,
Americans faced a new challenge. Most of the early settlers of the New World
were in favor of church establishment–but only if they were the
established church! New England Congregationalists quickly established the
Congregational church in New England, while Anglicans were established in the
South, and after the Dutch Reformed Church’s brief establishment in New
Amsterdam, the Anglican Church also took over New York.
The one region where establishments
did not take root in the colonial era were the middle colonies. Pennsylvania
and New Jersey both had large Quaker populations (which rejected establishments
altogether) while Maryland sought toleration for Roman Catholics, which under
British rule meant toleration for all dissenters. It was particularly in
Pennsylvania where America’s religious future was anticipated. In Pennsylvania
all of the old established churches of Europe met: the German Reformed from the
Church of the Palatine, Lutherans from the Church of Saxony, Presbyterians from
the Church of Scotland, Anglicans from the Church of England, together with the
dominant Quakers, a few Welsh Baptists and a scattering of Mennonites.
There was some talk of merger. The
Dutch and German Reformed nearly merged with the Scottish Presbyterians. But
the Lutherans and Anglicans were not interested in this. Radicals, such as the
Baptists, Mennonites and Quakers, argued that denominational pluralism was
good–and as time went on, the old established churches began to agree. Each
denomination tended to attract “its own” people–the Presbyterians were
overwhelmingly Scots-Irish, the Lutherans were German and Scandinavian, the
Anglicans and Baptists were generally English (and Welsh). The old idea of
catholicity–one church per region–had broken down.
But American Protestants were not
willing to surrender the idea of catholicity.[6] When Roman Catholics accused them of being divided
and divisive, Protestants replied that they were still united in doctrine and
fellowship. After all, in the early Republic there was a general Reformed
consensus in American Protestantism. The Episcopalians, Congregationalists,
Baptists–and even Methodists–were confessionally similar to the
Presbyterians–the most significant differences were in polity.[7] Such newspapers as the True Catholic (edited
by Presbyterians, Baptists, and Methodists in the 1840s) emphasized the
consensus among evangelical Protestants against both the high church
exclusivists (Roman and Anglo-Catholics) as well as the schismatics on the
radical wing–both denying the catholicity of the church.
By the 1840s the alignment of
American Protestants had changed. The Baptists were no longer on the
fringe–they had come into the mainline, as the Disciples of Christ and a whole
array of smaller radical groups had emerged (Mormons, Millerites,
Swedenborgians, etc). The mainstream of American Protestantism attempted to
maintain a sort of catholicity that was not organizational, but based upon a
general harmony of doctrine and piety–especially piety.
The Old School vision of catholicity
included a sense of common conscience (or confession) on the denominational
level, insisting that each denomination should maintain high confessional
standards, but allowed for liberty of conscience by recognizing other
denominations as fellow churches with whom they maintained fellowship.
Presbyterians sought to remain in fellowship with Methodists, Baptists,
Episcopalians, and Congregationalists (as well as the German and Dutch
Reformed). Since their official standards of doctrine were generally harmonious–the
Thirty Nine Articles for Methodists and Episcopalians, and various modified
versions of the Westminster Confession for Congregationalists and most
Baptists–Presbyterians sought to maintain fellowship with them.
But problems developed. Methodist
preachers were famous for preaching anti-Calvinist sermons, and often accused
Presbyterians of all sorts of awful teachings. Some of their most popular hymns
were overtly anti-Calvinistic, mocking the doctrine of predestination.[8] How could Presbyterians maintain fellowship with a
sister church that mocked them? Many Baptists refused to accept transfers from
Presbyterian churches without rebaptizing people. How can two churches remain
in fellowship without a common recognition of each other’s sacraments? Then the
Anglo-Catholic movement hit the Episcopal church, and some Episcopalians (who
had generally been closest to the Presbyterians in the early 19th century)
started insisting that Presbyterian ministers were not validly ordained because
they had not been ordained by a bishop.
2.
The New “Conscience”
If the older understanding of
catholicity maintained a tenuous existence in the early nineteenth century
(experiencing gradual erosions from the middle of the seventeenth century), the
concept of conscience had been undergoing a revolution of its own. “Conscience”
referred to an understanding of the right of the individual to decide what he
or she believes on any given subject. The nineteenth century saw conscience
gradually become a more central symbol than catholicity in defining religion
and morals, resulting in the inward and outward fragmentation of Anglo-American
Protestantism.
The older understanding of
catholicity did not deny the rights of conscience, so much as it gave a
corporate context for the exercise of conscience. The Reformers affirmed the
right of private judgment (insisting that human laws could not bind the
conscience), but also insisted that human laws could indeed bind practice. The Thirty-Nine
Articles of the Church of England, following a traditional medieval
distinction, both affirmed and limited the rights of conscience:
Whosoever, through his
private judgment, willingly and purposely, doth openly break the Traditions and
Ceremonies of the Church, which be not repugnant to the Word of God, and be
ordained and approved by common authority, ought to be rebuked openly, (that
others may fear to do the like,) as he that offendeth against the common order
of the Church, and hurteth the authority of the Magistrate, and woundeth the
consciences of the weak brethren. (Article 34)
The
Westminster Confession of Faith expanded the role of conscience, but
retained clear boundaries for conscience as well:
God alone is Lord of the
conscience, and hath left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men,
which are, in anything, contrary to his Word; or beside it, if matters of
faith, or worship. So that, to believe such doctrines, or to obey such
commands, out of conscience, is to betray true liberty of conscience: and the
requiring of an implicit faith, and an absolute and blind obedience, is to
destroy liberty of conscience, and reason also. (20.2)
And because the powers which
God hath ordained, and the liberty which Christ hath purchased, are not
intended by God to destroy, but mutually to uphold and preserve one another,
they who, upon pretense of Christian liberty, shall oppose any lawful power, or
the lawful exercise of it, whether it be civil or ecclesiastical, resist the
ordinance of God. And, for their publishing of such opinions, or maintaining of
such practices, as are contrary to the light of nature, or to the known
principles of Christianity (whether concerning faith, worship, or
conversation), or to the power of godliness; or, such erroneous opinions or
practices, as either in their own nature, or in the manner of publishing or
maintaining them, are destructive to the external peace and order which Christ
hath established in the church, they may lawfully be called to account, and
proceeded against, by the censures of the church. and by the power of the civil
magistrate. (20.4)
Both
the Thirty-Nine Articles and the Westminster Confession
insist that while human laws (whether of the church or the state) do not bind
the conscience, they do bind practice.[9] In other words, they were trying to show people how
to maintain a clear conscience within the context of a Reformed catholicity.
As liberty of conscience became more
prominent, most still tried to retain a modified version of catholicity. In the
midst of division and fragmentation, nineteenth-century evangelicals frequently
affirmed the catholicity of the visible church. But the definitions had
changed. Now catholicity usually meant either 1) a lowest common denominator view
of the church which would allow the broadest toleration of interpretation
within a single denomination, or 2) fellowship across denominational lines
while enforcing strict orthodoxy within the denomination. In either case,
conscience trumped catholicity, and catholicity was redefined in terms of the
assumption that the rights of conscience were paramount.
Some might suggest that this model
fails to take into account the fact that the Americans had experienced
denominationalism from the seventeenth century. But this is only true in
places. After all, the several denominations that existed in America were
simply transplants from Europe. Until the rise of the Disciples of Christ in
the opening decades of the nineteenth century, no major denomination had originated
in the new world.[10] The Congregational establishment in New England
retained the older concept of one church per region, and the very language of
“dissenter” and “toleration” indicates that these separations were viewed as
improper and temporary. Baptist Rhode Island and Quaker Pennsylvania were the
two colonies to allow full liberty of conscience, which fits with the Baptist
and Quaker rejection of the concept of catholicity in the seventeenth century.[11] But the dominant paradigm remained the older vision
of the catholicity of the visible church.
It was only in 1789 that
Presbyterians revised their Confession of Faith[12] to become the first Christian confession to make
denominational pluralism an article of faith:
Civil magistrates may not. .
. in the least, interfere in matters of faith. Yet, as nursing fathers, it is the
duty of civil magistrates to protect the church of our common Lord, without
giving the preference to any denomination of Christians above the rest. . . .
And, as Jesus Christ hath appointed a regular government and discipline in his
church, no law of any commonwealth should interfere with, let, or hinder, the
due exercise thereof, among the voluntary members of any denomination of
Christians, according to their own profession and belief. It is the duty of
civil magistrates to protect the person and good name of all their people, in
such an effectual manner as that no person be suffered, either upon pretense of
religion or of infidelity, to offer any indignity, violence, abuse, or injury
to any other person whatsoever: and to take order, that all religious and
ecclesiastical assemblies be held without molestation or disturbance. (23.3)
This
new section, added in 1789, had the effect of altering the meaning of the
Confession’s statement on the catholicity of the visible church (25.2-5),
rendering the older concept of one church per region untenable. Prior to this
revision, the magistrate was to suppress blasphemy and heresy, and to ensure
that the worship of God was conducted in accordance with the Word of God
(original Westminster Confession 23.3). But in 1789 American
Presbyterians not only eliminated this section of the Confession, but also
removed the clause in their Larger Catechism which condemned “tolerating a
false religion” (question 109), thereby endorsing the principle of religious
liberty.[13]
The changes in the wording of their
confession paralleled developments in the discussion of conscience among moral
philosophers. Samuel J. Cassells, principal of Chatham Academy in Georgia,
explained that conscience was variously referred to as “the moral principle” or
a faculty or power of the soul “by which it perceives the difference between
right and wrong, approving the one and condemning the other.”[14] While objecting to the utilitarianism of Paley and
Bentham, Cassells acknowledged that the conscience had become the driving force
of modern moral philosophy. Most Old School Presbyterians still hoped to form
the conscience according to a communal norm–as exemplified by their regular
endorsement of the shorter catechism as a tool in training children.[15]
Conscience’s ability to trump
catholicity can be seen in the Disruption of the Free Church, where the
spiritual independence of the church was considered a principle too sacred to
compromise,[16] as well as in the Baptist and Methodist schisms in
the 1840s over slavery. While southerners eschewed the personal liberty laws of
the north in the 1850s, Eugene Genovese has pointed out that they concurred
with the “higher law” doctrine in principle–they admitted that if it was a
matter of conscience, then the individual had no choice but to disobey the
unacceptable law.[17]
While this distinction between
catholicity and conscience is an explicitly theological one, the implications
for politics and culture are significant. As had been the case for millennia,
religious thought and political thought were intertwined. The shift from catholicity
to conscience signaled a change in the symbolic world paralleled by the trends
in political thought toward democratization, and in economics toward the
individualism of the market. Indeed, while he does not refer to “catholicity”
per se, Nathan Hatch’s whole argument in The Democratization of American
Evangelicalism rests upon this movement from catholicity to conscience.[18] Further, the idea of catholicity easily transferred
into political discourse, and not surprisingly many Americans found it easier
to discuss the catholicity in nationalistic terms.[19]
3.
Catholicity, Conscience, and the Division of 1837
Old School Presbyterians lived in
this new symbolic world. But more than most other mainline denominations, they
retained a significant attachment to the older concept of catholicity. In an
increasingly fragmented religious world, they clung to the older ideal in the
hope that they could stave off the disintegration of their own tradition. But
ironically, their conscientious stand for catholicity entailed the division of
their church.
The actions and statements of Old School Presbyterians in
the division of 1837 need to be read in the context of the sweeping changes
occurring in the symbolic world of antebellum America. What did it mean to be
one denomination among others? As American culture was becoming increasingly
democratized and populist, did that mean that the churches would invariably
follow? Or did their theological tradition provide a middle way that they could
steer between the Scylla of High Church Episcopalianism and the Charybdis of
Baptist populism.[20]
A. Catholicity and the Plan of Union
In 1801, the General Assembly of the
Presbyterian Church in America and the General Association of the State of
Connecticut entered into a “Plan of Union” in order “to promote union and
harmony in those new settlements which are composed of inhabitants from these
bodies.”[21] Settlers from the Congregational church of Connecticut
and the Presbyterian church would work together in planting churches, and not
allow minor differences in polity to result in the establishment of two
different denominations in the same region. Since both bodies agreed in
doctrine–except in ecclesiology–the plan arranged for Congregational ministers
to pastor Presbyterian churches, and vice versa. Indeed, the plan succeeded
beyond the expectations of its framers when in 1808 the Congregational Middle
Association accepted an invitation from the Presbyterian Synod of Albany to
become a presbytery within its bounds. Throughout the state of New York and the
Western Reserve of Ohio, Congregationalists flocked to the Presbyterian
churches until by the 1820s there were hardly any separate Congregational churches
left west of New England. At least within the British Reformed world,
catholicity had triumphed.
Or had it? Part of the older
doctrine of catholicity included the idea that even rules of human invention
should be followed (though they could not bind the conscience). And if they
could not be followed, they should be changed in an orderly fashion–or else the
dissenter should quietly submit. Rumors began to spread that the
“presbygational” churches of New York and eastern Ohio were violating terms of the
Presbyterian constitution. Even worse, doctrinal innovations from Yale College,
in New Haven, Connecticut, regarding the nature of the atonement, original sin,
and human ability seemed to find echoes in those portions of the church that
stemmed from the Plan of Union. To top it off, Charles Finney’s radical
revivalism took these new doctrines and gave them a most unpleasant form in its
“new measures” and perfectionist tendencies.[22]
Simultaneously, questions began to
be raised regarding the voluntary associations established to promote joint
missions and education between the Congregationalists and the Presbyterians
(including some Dutch Reformed and Associate Reformed churches). The American
Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (1810), the American Education
Society (1815), and the American Home Missionary Society (1826) had all been
formed as joint endeavors among Reformed Christians in order to conduct the
work of missions and ministerial training in a co-operative fashion. Their
supporters claimed that these organizations were simply “the church in her
organized and social capacity,” and pointed to their immense success in spreading
Presbyterianism throughout the West.[23] Catholicity was being defined as individual
cooperation between Christians.[24]
But as New York and New England
tended to support the “American” boards, the Presbyterian church also
established agencies of the General Assembly in order to plant churches and
oversee ministerial training. The General Assembly organized boards of Domestic
Missions (1816–reorganized with greater powers in 1827) and Education
(1819–likewise reorganized in 1829) in order to supervise missions and the
education of ministers. Foreign missions, however, continued as a joint
endeavor through the ABCFM, although the Synod of Pittsburgh (one of the
strongest bastions of Scottish Presbyterianism in the United States) started
the Western Foreign Missions Society in 1831, which quickly drew support from
Old School synods in the south and west.
New School advocates claimed that
the catholicity of the visible church was replaced by the Old School with a
narrow sectarianism that focused on the institutional church. Indeed, this was
the question: does the catholicity of the visible church simply mean unity among
individual Christians in missionary and reform efforts across denominational
boundaries (the New School vision)? Or does it mean cordial relations among
denominations while each pursues its own missionary efforts in different
regions (the Old School vision)?[25]
Of course, to ask the question in
this fashion is to reveal the fact that the older concept of the catholicity of
the visible church was already dead. It was impossible for antebellum
Presbyterians to affirm the older vision of the church, because they no longer
believed in that older idea that each region should have only one church. The
idea of “catholicity” had been redefined: the New School grounded the concept
of catholicity in the invisible church (harmony between individual Christians),
while the Old School emphasized the visible church (harmony between
denominations).
B. Orthodoxy and Catholicity
The Plan of Union was intended as a
means of furthering orthodoxy. But as New England’s orthodoxy was called into
question, the Plan of Union became increasingly problematic. The center of the
controversy swirled around the question of human ability. Did fallen, sinful
human beings have the natural ability to do what God commanded or not? Would God
condemn human beings for failing to do something that they could not do apart
from his grace? The “New Divinity” rising in New England suggested
modifications to traditional Calvinist language to say that while human beings
had the natural ability to obey God, they lacked the moral ability on account
of sin. This raised subsequent discussions regarding original sin, immediate
versus mediate imputation of sin and righteousness, and a host of related
issues.[26] For orthodox Calvinists, the New Englanders sounded
as though they were moving closer and closer to the dreaded heresy of
Pelagianism.[27]
Concern regarding the orthodoxy of
New England was voiced as early as 1798 when the Presbyterian General Assembly
“reprimanded Hezekiah Balch” of Tennessee “for espousing the views of Samuel
Hopkins.”[28] In 1817 the pastoral letter of the Synod of
Philadelphia warned against the “heresy” of Hopkinsianism. The General
Assembly, however, warned the Synod that such expressions were “offensive to
other denominations” (especially Congregationalists), and might “introduce a
spirit of jealousy and suspicion against ministers in good standing.”[29] Throughout the 1820s the concern over New England
theology grew, and from 1829-1837, the Princeton Review remonstrated
with its New England neighbors against their novel views.[30]
If the New Divinity had remained a
New England and New York phenomenon, most Presbyterians would have left it
alone. But when the New School majority at the 1831 General Assembly suggested
bringing the Presbyterian Boards of Education and Missions under the
interdenominational AES and AHMS, a number of Philadelphia ministers and elders
wrote a circular letter to like-minded Presbyterians urging the claims of immediate
action. The danger, in their minds, was that the institutions of the church
would be “perverted from the intention of their orthodox founders,” and that
the doctrines of the church’s confession would be overrun.[31] If the American Home Mission Society began sending
out heretics, the Presbyterian Church could not stop them. The AHMS was
providing a significant amount of funding for the Plan of Union synods in New
York and the Western Reserve of Ohio–as well as those further down the Ohio
River in Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee and Illinois. If New England
trained and funded ministers took over the west, then what would become of the
Presbyterian Church?
And to make matters worse, the Plan
of Union synods were already making it clear that they had no intention of
following Presbyterian church order. Hundreds of “presbygational churches”
followed congregational practices while retaining their membership in the
Presbyterian church. In such churches lay committees took over the functions of
ruling elders, allowing men who had never agreed to Presbyterian doctrine and
church order to govern Presbyterian churches. In 1833 the General Assembly
admonished the Western Reserve Synod for declaring that ruling elders were not
essential to the existence of the Presbyterian Church.[32]
One of the first projects of the Old
School was to establish periodicals that would defend traditional orthodoxy
against the tide of New England theology and practice.
Old School Periodicals
Founded Name Editor Seminary Birthplace
Weekly
1829 Pittsburgh Christian Herald Rev. Thomas D. Baird M Waddell 1812 Ireland
1831 The Standard (Cincinnati) Rev. John Burtt PTS 1823 Scotland
1831 Presbyterian (Philadelphia) Rev. William M. Engles Covenanter 1818 PA
1835 So. Christian Herald (Cheraw, SC) Rev. R. S. Gladney private 1830s SC
Monthly
1835 Baltimore Lit & Religious Magazine Rev. R. J. Breckinridge PTS 1832 KY
1835 Western Protestant (Bardstown, KY) Rev. Nathan L. Rice PTS 1832 KY
New School Periodicals
Weekly
Cincinnati Journal
Ohio Observer (Western Reserve)
New York Evangelist
1825 Philadelphian Rev. Ezra Styles Ely
Neutral Periodicals
Weekly
1822 Southern Religious Telegraph (VA) Rev. Amasa Converse PTS 1826
1823 New York Observer Sidney E. Morse
1827 Charleston Observer (SC) Rev. Benj. Gildersleeve PTS 1818 CT
1835 American Pbn (Nashville) Rev. John T. Edgar PTS 1816 DE
Quarterly
1829 Biblical Repertory & Princeton
Review Rev. Charles Hodge PTS
1819 PA
The
New School and the moderates originally controlled most of the Presbyterian
press. The Cincinnati Journal, the Ohio Observer and the Philadelphian,
were overtly New School, while the New York Observer and the Southern
Religious Telegraph professed to be neutral, but had plain New School
sympathies. The Princeton Review was notoriously moderate in its tone,
as Joshua L. Wilson of Cincinnati said derisively of Samuel Miller and the
Princeton professors: “They are broken reeds which will pierce the hand that
rests on them for support.”[33] So in 1831 Old School papers were started in
Cincinnati and Philadelphia with the urging of Joshua L. Wilson and Ashbel
Green, respectively. The Southern Christian Herald followed in the South
Carolina backcountry in 1835, due to perceptions that the New England-born
Benjamin Gildersleeve was too moderate in his Charleston Observer.[34] These three papers were fiercely partisan in their
Old School rhetoric. In contrast the American Presbyterian of
Nashville, Tennessee was also started in 1835, but on a more irenic platform.
Its editor, John T. Edgar, was firmly committed to Presbyterian orthodoxy, but
hoped to accomplish Old School goals through more moderate means.[35]
Under its founding editor, John
Burtt, the Presbyterian quickly established itself as the leading voice
of the Old School. By March of 1832, it had started using the labels “Old
School” and “New School” to describe the two groups in the church: “The Old
School feel a cordial and firm attachment to the Confession of Faith and
Catechisms of the Church, as exhibiting a correct and lucid view of the
doctrines of the Scriptures,” and also defended Presbyterian government.
“Whereas the New School think lightly, and sometimes speak lightly, of our
Standards, and manifest a disposition to loose themselves from their obligation
to teach and preach according to them.”[36]
For just over a year (from November
28, 1832 to January 2, 1834) the paper came under the editorial control of
James W. Alexander, son of Archibald Alexander of Princeton Seminary. During
his tenure the paper moved in a somewhat more moderate direction, publishing
Samuel Miller’s “Letters to Presbyterians, on the Present Crisis in the
Presbyterian Church in the United States,” in an attempt to use the history of
the Presbyterian church as an argument for peace and union, not division.[37]
Upon Alexander’s departure, the Rev.
William M. Engles embarked on his 33 year tenure as editor of the Old School’s
flagship newspaper. Pronouncedly Old School in his views, he nonetheless
rejected the division of the church as a goal. In reply to “A Layman of the New
School” who suggested amicable division in 1835, Engles replied: “Our aim has
been its reform, and return to the well established principles of
Presbyterianism. If division should result, the fault will not rest with those,
who have uniformly adhered to Presbyterian doctrine and government.”
Recognizing that he might well end up in the minority, he concluded that “If we
shall fail in our attempt, and as a reward be forcibly ejected, we trust we
have so far counted the cost as to take ‘the spoiling of our goods joyfully,’
for Christ’s sake.”[38]
But Engles was confident that if the
whole church could only hear what the radical New Schoolers were saying, they
would rally behind the Old School banner. Therefore he often published the most
extreme articles from the New School papers, such as a an article in the Ohio
Observer, written by a New School Presbyterian from the Western Reserve
Synod, which argued that the Presbyterian church should completely alter its
confession. “The symbols of the Presbyterian Church have in effect been changed
by the license which is now allowed in explaining their meaning. . . . .But
would it not be better that the Church should alter and expunge, until they
have formed a creed in which all the followers of the Lord Jesus can unite.”
While disagreeing with that desire, Engles could not but endorse the next
sentence–which made his point better than he could say it himself: “There is
danger moreover that those who are in the habit of straining and torturing
language for the sake of expressing different sentiments by the same formula,
will do the same with the Bible, and make it a nose of wax to be moulded into
any shape which will suit the interpreter.”[39]
But while the Old School sought to
convince the moderates of the immediate dangers, they could not allow what they
considered grave errors to continue unchecked. Since Old School Presbyterians
were convinced that the New England doctrines departed significantly from the
church’s Confession, they charged some of the New School leaders with heresy in
the church courts. There was no attempt to go after every “heretic.” Instead
Old School Presbyterians targeted the leaders. The idea was that those who were
not influential were not seen as a threat. Here we see an assumption of the
older idea of catholicity and conscience: if the church draws a clear boundary
in the case of an influential heretic, those who may sympathize with his views
will feel constrained to bring their practice into line with the common
conscience of the church. They saw no need to prosecute every one with
erroneous doctrine. The issue was the general direction of the church–isolated
exceptions were not a problem so long as they did not stir up controversy.
Hence the targets of heresy charges were invariably either professors or
pastors who published their views.[40]
And even though the trials usually
ended in acquittal, not all of the Old School was discouraged. The New School
was being forced to think carefully about how it stated Christian doctrine. An
article in R. J. Breckinridge’s Baltimore Literary and Religious Magazine
hoped that the 1836 General Assembly would sustain the Synod of Philadelphia in
its condemnation of Barnes, but did not insist that Barnes himself be censured,
so long as the truth was clearly vindicated. “If the Assembly clearly and
firmly denounces error, let us not care too much for personal results. If Mr.
Barnes is content to escape; there is no very great importance in
preventing it. It may be on the whole, the best thing that could happen--that
error should become rediculous [sic], instead of being seriously punished.”[41] Even after the Assembly cleared Barnes, Charles Hodge
commented that the New School seemed more and more eager to prove their
orthodoxy: “We think there is truth as well as humour in the remark attributed
to good old Dr. Wilson of Cincinnati, that ‘if we have a few more prosecutions,
the new-school men will become more orthodox than the strictest of us.’”[42]
Nonetheless, the failure of the
General Assembly to convict New School men of heresy frustrated the leaders of
the Old School. They read the doctrines coming out of New England, and knew
that these doctrines were heresy, but it was difficult to find an unequivocal
statement of those views in the Presbyterian Church–and when they thought that
Barnes or Beecher had crossed the line, the alleged heretic quickly disavowed
any heretical intention and nimbly hopped back into the orthodox camp.
Meanwhile, the practical effects of those doctrinal positions were gaining
ground. The AMHS was still sending hundreds of ministers into the Presbyterian
synods in the west, and the mixed presbygationalism of western New York and
eastern Ohio suggested that if the orthodox were not careful, the whole
Presbyterian Church could be overwhelmed by the New School. So far, even when
the New School had a majority, they had politely voted Old School men to fill
vacancies in the General Assembly’s Boards–but if they took control of the
Board of Domestic Missions, they could effectively make it an auxiliary to the
AHMS. And what of the seminaries at Princeton and Allegheny? If New School men
controlled the home missions and ministerial training of the church, then it
was only a matter of time, they feared, before the historic Presbyterian
tradition would be swept away.
The third agent of Old School reform
consisted of a joint declaration circulated throughout the churches. In 1834 a
group of Old School ministers and elders, led by Robert J. Breckinridge, drew
up the Act and Testimony, a declaration of principle that called the
Presbyterian Church to renounce the encroaching errors of the New School and
return to historic Presbyterian doctrine and practice. The document was
published by William M. Engles, the editor of the Presbyterian, in early
1835, with the signatures of 359 ministers and 1,704 ruling elders, and the
imprimatur of the synods of Philadelphia, Mississippi & South Alabama,
South Carolina, Pittsburgh, and Kentucky, along with the presbyteries of Newton
(NJ), Madison (IN), Indianapolis (IN), Oxford (OH), Bedford (NY), Lancaster
(OH), Miami (OH), Concord (NC), Richland (OH), and Kaskaskia (IL)–along with
several presbyteries within the bounds of the aforementioned synods. Some have
argued that southern support for the Old School was late in coming, and that it
was only the issue of slavery that swung them into the Old School camp.[43] This support for the narrowly doctrinal “Act and
Testimony” demonstrates that even by 1834–before the main slavery agitation of
1835-1836–the Old School had broad support throughout the South.
While Philadelphia and Pittsburgh were the main repositories of Old
School strength, the synods of Cincinnati, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina
and Mississippi & Southern Alabama all had between 23-31% of their
ministers sign the “Act and Testimony.”[44] Nonetheless, while some southern synods quickly
signed on to the “Act and Testimony,” indicating their support for the Old
School’s doctrinal stance, others were reluctant to support radical measures
which might divide the church.[45]
An even more important question for
the Old School was not whether they could rely upon the South, but such
borderline synods as New York, Albany, New Jersey, and Virginia. Princeton’s
moderate position carried great weight in all these regions, since Virginia’s ear
was turned to Archibald Alexander, and the northeastern synods were the largest
financial supporters of Princeton. If they could convince Princeton and the
upper South of the need for immediate action, the Old School could gain the
necessary majority.[46]
The “Act and Testimony” insisted
that since the General Assembly had refused to testify against the errors of
the New School, the only remaining appeal was to Christ and to the ministers,
elders and members of the church, in an attempt to convince the moderates to
act. By adopting the “Act and Testimony” the signatories pledged themselves to
“endeavour to exclude from her [the church’s] communion those who disturb her
peace, corrupt her testimony, and subvert her established forms.”[47] This appeal from the Assembly to the whole church was
an exercise in opposites: they were conscience-bound to try to exclude the New
School, in order to further an Old School style of catholicity.
The authors of the “Act and
Testimony” claimed that the New School sought to interpret “the doctrines of
our standards in a sense different from the general sense of the Church for
years past.” The Old School insisted that this was dishonest, and averred that
“they who adopt our standards, are bound by candour and the simplest integrity,
to hold them in their obvious, accepted sense.”[48] The Old School did not appeal to a supposed “original
intent” of the Confession, but to the mind of the church–the “general sense of
the Church for years past.” Many New England trained ministers seemed to be
saying that they agreed with the Confession, but then taught things that to the
Scottish-minded Old School sounded like a direct contradiction of what the
church had understood the Confession to say.[49]
Breckinridge was concerned to
accurately depict the New England errors (especially since the General Assembly
of 1834 had refused to condemn the list of errors presented by the Rev. Samuel
C. Jennings of the Presbytery of Ohio–pastor of the Sharon and Mt. Pisgah churches
near Pittsburgh), so he went to Princeton to confer with Charles Hodge,
professor of Oriental and Biblical Literature at Princeton Seminary, and one of
the leaders of the moderate party. Breckinridge hoped to persuade Hodge to sign
the Act and Testimony, or at least help draw up the doctrinal errors
that the General Assembly should condemn. Hodge believed that the Act and
Testimony was the wrong approach, but agreed to help rewrite the
specifications of error in order to reduce the misrepresentation which he
believed had hampered the Old School cause. The resulting specification of
errors consisted of a simple statement of seven errors:
1. “That we have no more to
do with the first sin of Adam than with the sins of any other parent.”
2. “That there is no such
thing as original sin: that infants come into the world as perfectly free from
corruption of nature as Adam was when he was created: that by original sin
nothing more is meant than the fact that all the posterity of Adam, though born
entirely free from moral defilement, will always begin to sin when they begin
to exercise moral agency, and that this fact is some how connected with the
fall of Adam.”
3. “That the doctrine of
imputed sin and imputed righteousness is a novelty, and is nonsense.”
4. “That the impenitent
sinner is by nature, and independently of the aid of the Holy Spirit in full
possession of all the powers necessary to a compliance with the commands of
God: and that if he laboured under any kind of inability, natural or moral,
which he could not remove himself, he would be excusable for not complying with
God’s will.”
5. “That man’s regeneration
is his own act; that it consists merely in the change of our governing purpose,
which change we must ourselves produce.”
6. “That God cannot exert
such an influence on the minds of men as shall make it certain that they will
choose and act in a particular manner without destroying their moral agency;
and that, in a moral system, God could not prevent the existence of sin, or the
present amount of sin, however much he might desire it.”
7. “That Christ’s sufferings
were not truly and properly vicarious.”[50]
This
list of errors quite closely parallels the battles that Princeton Seminary was
fighting against the New England theology, and expresses the Princetonian
perception of Nathaniel William Taylor and Charles Finney. It is not at all
clear, however, that any Presbyterian had yet fully embraced these views.
Barnes and Beecher had an affinity for some of these, but usually stopped short
of outright affirmation of these tenets. The professors at Princeton, Archibald
Alexander, Samuel Miller, and Charles Hodge, agreed with these specifications
of errors, but refused to sign the Act and Testimony in 1835 because
they did not think that the problems in the church would be best solved by
division.
The Old School, however, was getting
tired of the New School’s propensity for dancing on the edge, and believed that
their “unguarded” statements revealed their true theology. The signers of the
“Act and Testimony” were convinced that these doctrinal dalliances were
agitating and dividing the church. Both discipline and church order were
affected. “Mutual confidence is weakened; respect for the supreme judicatory of
our church is impaired. . . [and] the ordinary course of discipline, arrested
by compromises, in which the truth is always loser, and perverted by organized
combinations [by which they especially meant the American Education Society and
the American Home Missions Society], to personal, selfish and party ends,
ceases altogether, and leaves every one to do what seems good in his own eyes.”[51] The effect upon church order was no less serious.
While agreeing that the details of the constitution of the church were
second-order matters, Breckinridge and his fellows argued that
not only for its own sake, do
we love the constitution of our Church, as a model of all free institutions,
and as a clear and noble exhibition of the soundest principles of civil and
religious liberty; not only do we venerate its peculiarities, because they
exhibit the rules by which God intends the affairs of His Church on earth to be
conducted; but we cling to its venerable ramparts, because they afford a sure
defence for those precious, though despised doctrines of grace, the pure
transmission of which has been entrusted as a sacred duty to the church.[52]
It
was not simply that Presbyterian church order was biblical; also important was
its role in providing a model for civil and religious liberty.[53] The Act and Testimony concluded with a
commitment to work within the church to eliminate these doctrinal heresies and
their effects on the discipline and government of the church. “If the majority
of our church are against us, they will, we suppose, in the end, either see the
infatuation of their course, and retrace their steps, or they will, at last,
attempt to cut us off.”[54] But until that day, they pledged to work towards the
reformation of the church.
For those with hope for such reform,
the General Assembly of 1836 was a devastating blow. The General Assembly of
1835 had agreed to transfer the Western Foreign Mission Society to the
oversight of the General Assembly, which would create a Presbyterian Board of
Foreign Missions. But the 1836 Assembly refused, by a vote of 106-110, to
accept the transfer. Old School men objected that the ‘35 GA had already
decided the question and set the terms for the transfer. The New School
majority, led by Absalom Peters and Thomas Skinner, replied that the decision
had been made by a rump of the 1835 GA, and that “we think it unreasonable for
them to ask us to form. . . by a vote of the General Assembly, an organization,
the principles of which we do not approve.”[55] If Old School men wished to continue synodical
foreign missions, that was their prerogative, but the New School wanted no part
of that for themselves. Fearing that a denominational board would serve only
Old School interests, they insisted that foreign missions (along with domestic
missions and other benevolent action) was best conducted “by uniting with
Christians of other denominations” as “the collective body of Christ’s
disciples.”[56] A denominational board would be sectarian, and not
truly catholic.[57] The Old School, in reply, insisted that there was no
such thing as “generic Christianity,” and that true catholicity could only be
found as each denomination remained true to its own principles.[58] Catholicity could no longer be conducted through
united regional churches, so the Old School redefined it as fellowship between
denominations, while the New School tried to maintain some semblance of
regional unity–but only through individual Christians.
Also in 1836 the General Assembly
overturned the verdict of the Synod of Philadelphia, which had found Albert
Barnes guilty of heresy in his Notes on Romans. The GA voted 134-96
(with six abstentions) to clear Barnes’ Notes, and by an even more
resounding vote of 145-78 (11 abstentions) lifted the suspension imposed by the
Synod. After having voted with the majority to acquit Barnes, Samuel Miller
moved that the Assembly state that Barnes had
published opinions,
materially at variance with the Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Church,
and with the word of God; especially with regard to original sin, the relation
of man to Adam, and justification by faith, in the atoning sacrifice and
righteousness of the Redeemer. The Assembly consider the manner in which Mr.
Barnes has controverted the language and doctrine of our public standards, as
highly reprehensible, and as adapted to pervert the minds of the rising
generation from the simplicity and purity of the Gospel plan.[59]
In
other words, Miller did not wish to remove Barnes from the ministry, but hoped
that a stern admonition would suffice. Therefore he urged that the Assembly
exhort Barnes to further edit his work to bring it into conformity with the
biblical and confessional teaching of the church. But having found Barnes to be
innocent, the Assembly was not about to reverse its position. The motion was
defeated 109-122 (three abstentions).[60] The New School majority was determined to vindicate
Barnes, and refused to countenance even a slap on the wrist.
C. The Role of Slavery in 1836
Most historians in the middle
decades of the twentieth century sided with C. Bruce Staiger’s claim that the
division of the church was the result of a covert deal between the south and
northern conservatives to get rid of the supposedly abolitionist New York
synods.[61]
But George M. Marsden, John R. McKivigan, and
James Moorhead have shown that slavery must be seen as more of a background
issue.[62]
Prior to the Barnes’ trial the
Assembly had debated whether or not to respond to a number of memorials on
slavery. After some discussion, the matter was referred to a committee chaired
by John McElhenny of Lexington Presbytery (pastor at Lewisburg, VA).
Immediately after concluding the Barnes’ trial, the Assembly returned to the
discussion of slavery. McElhenny reported the committee’s recommendation that
“Whereas the subject of
Slavery is inseparably connected with the laws of many States of this Union, in
which it exists under the sanction of said laws, and of the Constitution of the
United States; and whereas Slavery is recognised in both the Old and New
Testament as an existing relation, and is not condemned by the authority of
God, therefore, Resolved, That the General Assembly have no authority to assume
or exercise jurisdiction in regard to the existence of Slavery.”[63]
This
did not sit well with those among the New School who were intent on moving the
Presbyterian church toward an abolitionist position. But the conservatives
(both north and south) won the day. The following day, the Rev. James Hoge of
Columbus Presbytery (pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Columbus,
OH)–who had left the South as a young man due to his opposition to slavery,
recommended that since church judicatories do not have the right to bind
consciences with pronouncements based on their own authority, and since time
was growing short, the whole subject of slavery should be indefinitely
postponed. The question of indefinite postponement passed 154-87.
Unfortunately, no division was called for on the preamble–the question of
binding consciences–but nine members of the Assembly protested against its
adoption.
Barnes’ Barnes’ Miller’s Wrist-slap
By synod: Appeal Restoration (to defeat) Postpone Slavery
Missouri: 4-0 4-0 4-0 3-2
Kentucky: 2-7 2-6 1-8 6-3
Virginia 6-4 8-2 3-8 0-11
North Carolina 0-6 3-4 0-8 1-7
Tennessee 10-0 10-0 10-0 10-0
West Tennessee 5-3 5-2 5-3 4-4
South Carolina/Georgia 0-9 2-8 0-9 0-6
Mississippi/South Alabama 1-7 2-4 1-7 1-7
Southern
synods: 28-36 36-26 24-43 25-40
“Plan
of Union” Synods 55-1 22-22
Other
Northern 51-59 91-20
Synod
of Philadelphia (Not
allowed to vote) 16-5
Overall
vote: 134-96 145-78 122-109 154-87
Figure 1.5. Southern Votes in the 1836 General Assembly
Figure 1.5 makes it clear that one
cannot lump the whole south together. Outside of Missouri, Tennessee and
Virginia (border states where the New School had some influence), only three
out of thirty-one southerners voted to sustain Barnes’ appeal. The deep south
was firmly in the Old School corner. But the whole south was divided as to
whether they wanted the Assembly to speak on the slavery question. Nearly
two-thirds (40-25) wanted resolution on the subject–and only those from the
border states wanted to postpone discussion indefinitely. In 1836 it was the
southern New School men who wanted to postpone discussion of slavery, and the
southern Old School who wanted resolution. Therefore the indefinite
postponement of the slavery question in 1836 must be seen as an attempt to hold
the church together by northern conservatives both in the Old
School and in the New School against the radicals on both sides: abolitionists
(largely in the “Plan of Union” synods) and the advocates of slavery (both in
the southern Old School and the southern New School). [64]
While the correlation between
slavery and the Barnes case is weak, the Barnes case and the foreign missions
question are closely linked. Every single one of those who opposed Barnes voted
to transfer the Western Foreign Missionary Society to the oversight of the
General Assembly, and only eight of those who sustained Barnes’ appeal switched
ranks and voted for the transfer (including Samuel Miller and four others from
New Jersey). In 1836 most Presbyterians saw the question of slavery as a
separate issue from the questions of doctrine and church order.
But not all. Some in South Carolina urged
a geographical division between North and South. Before the Assembly of 1836,
R. S. Gladney, editor of the Southern Christian Herald stated that
There is nothing that we
believe more firmly than that the subject of slavery will divide the General
Assembly. Were we a member of that body, we would prefer secession to angry
debate and unfeeling abuse. We should at once meet the Anti-Slavery resolution
with a motion for division. . . . The only terms upon which we can live in
peace, are that our Northern brethren withhold from all interference with our
wives, our children, our men-servants, our maid-servants, or anything belonging
to us.[65]
Convinced
that the New School was trying to use the slavery issue to obscure its
doctrinal heterodoxy, he argued that “the same traits of mind that lead to
error in religion, lead to fanaticism in other matters.” Only if the question
of slavery was avoided could the church remain one.[66]
His successor, ruling elder M.
MacLean, agreed in principle, but took a more moderate tone. He published
“Baxter’s” claim that the north and the south “are sufficiently alienated from
each other already–more so I fear than Christians ought to be.” Baxter claimed
that “so long as our orthodox brethren at the north let the subject of slavery
alone, we have no right to separate from them.” Any division should occur due
to serious doctrinal or polity errors.[67] MacLean concurred, pointing out that division “could
do us at the South no possible good in any way. It would not in the least limit
the operations or lessen the influence of the abolitionists, but would on the
contrary weaken the hands of our friends at the North, and thus do these
fanatics a favor.”[68] Most southern Presbyterians saw the theological
deviations of the New School as the most important problem.
D. The General Assembly of 1837 and the Question of
Division
The Old School response to the 1836
General Assembly was mixed. The Southern Christian Herald was upset at
Samuel Miller for his support of Barnes. “If the Biblical Repertory will not
raise its voice against heretics, as well as against heresies, it
is surely time to establish one monthly or quarterly magazine in
connection with the Presbyterian church that will.”[69] But editor MacLean was encouraged by the number of
articles in even moderate papers that professed to see the danger of the New
School now that Barnes had been aquitted. MacLean claimed that it was the New
England men who acquitted Barnes, and that not a score of those who had been
trained as Presbyterians voted for him.[70]
William L. Breckinridge commented in
an editorial written from the floor of the Assembly that the heat of previous
years had cooled off–but not because of any growing unity: “But a little while
ago, we would have heard of division with horror: now, it is the subject of
common conversation, in almost every circle. One of the first steps towards a
division, is, reconciling men’s minds to the quiet contemplation of such an
occurrence; and that stage has certainly been reached by the great mass of the
members of this General Assembly.” The Assembly was less excitable than in
1834, but that was because most had already made up their minds that division
was inevitable.[71]
Some in the Old School party had
begun to suggest that they should simply withdraw from the Presbyterian church.
Hodge objected. Even if a majority of the church had become unsound, that did
not warrant schism. “There may be instances in which the majority is so great,
their conduct so oppressive, and the defection from the truth so serious as to
render separation a duty. But these cases are exceptions, and are not, properly
speaking, included in the simple principle under consideration.”[72] So long as the Presbyterian Confession of Faith
remained the doctrinal standard of the church, Hodge argued, we should remain.
Only when the majority defected from the gospel itself could schism be
justified. We cannot hand over the “name, the character, the influence, the
institutions, the various resources” of the church without violating our trust.
Further, Hodge believed that the New School had over-stepped their bounds, and
that the Old School was growing. “We cannot see, therefore, how any set of men
can with a good conscience, desire to effect the division of the church until
they are called upon to profess what they do not believe, or required to do
what they cannot approve. This, as far as we can see, is the only principle
which can bear the test; which will acquit us in the sight of God and man, for
tearing asunder that portion of the church of Christ committed to our care.”[73]
Not all, however, agreed with Hodge.
One contributor to the Presbyterian revealed that catholicity was a dead
letter to many. “I never knew until recently, that Protestants considered a
separation into different denominations, to be so daring a sin. We have among
us, Presbyterians, Dutch Reformed, Congregationalists, Episcopalians,
Methodists, Covenanters, Moravians, Baptists, and others, all with their
separate ecclesiastical organization, and as entirely independent of each
other, as the two parties in our Church would be if they were divided into two
distinct bodies.” If Protestants “have regarded Christ as the head of the
Church and their different denominations as its branches. . . [w]here then can
be the crime of making a subdivision of one of these branches?”[74]
Having failed to secure the
condemnation of Albert Barnes in 1836, the Old School leaders feared that they
might be too late. The Assembly’s refusal to accept the transfer of the Western
Foreign Missions Society indicated that the New School party held a small but
significant majority. In order to accomplish an orderly division of the
Presbyterian church, the Old School needed to gain another twenty votes. New
Jersey, Virginia and Tennessee would be the main battlegrounds–the bastions of
the moderates. A regular barrage of articles on the importance of immediate
action and the danger of delay continued to appear in the newspapers.
Finally, in April of 1837, Princeton
fell. Just over a month before the General Assembly, Samuel Miller published an
open letter to Old School leader John McElhenney of Virginia reporting his
change of heart. Miller insisted that his principles had not changed–he had
always supported Old School doctrine and polity–but he had hoped to prevent
strife and division. Now he saw that division was inevitable, and his stand
would be with the Old School.[75] With Princeton finally on board, the Old School
leaders called a pre-Assembly convention to plan their strategy for reform.
George Baxter, professor of theology
at Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, was elected president of this
convention. R. J. Breckinridge opened the discussion with a narrative of the
rise of Pelagianism in the Presbyterian church. He pointed out that if the
Assembly initiated a judicial inquiry into the organization of the Plan of
Union synods, that those synods could not vote in their own cases, which might
give the Old School a majority. Baxter agreed, pointing out that “the exclusion
of the Synod of the Western Reserve would of itself secure to them that
majority.” On the other hand, though, Baxter argued that if the New School had
the majority, secession should happen by synods, not by individuals or
conventions. Synodical secession was not necessarily schism. The corporate
conscience of the synod ensured at least a measure of catholicity in the midst
of division. Nonetheless, some urged more radical measures. George Junkin
suggested that they refuse to enter the Assembly “unless certain individuals
should first have been excluded from it.” William Swan Plumer opposed this as
it would “enlist public sentiment against them.”[76]
Later, the convention dealt with the
question of slavery. Breckinridge declared that he would oppose any attempt to
bring slavery into the discussion. Thomas Smyth and William Swan Plumer replied
that the South did not want to touch the issue of slavery. They had confidence
in their northern Old School brethren and would not seek any further statement.[77] It was not the northern Old School, but the southern
Old School that agreed to shut up.
At the General Assembly, which
opened the following week, Dr. Baxter presented the memorial of the convention,
which was referred, following normal Presbyterian procedure, to the Bills and
Overtures Committee–a committee designed to review constitutional matters and
suggest appropriate action to the Assembly. In this case, however, the
moderator, David Elliott (professor of theology at Western Theological Seminary
in Allegheny, Pennsylvania) had placed Baxter on this very committee, along
with Archibald Alexander (professor of theology at Princeton Seminary), Ashbel
Green (retired president of the College of New Jersey), William Swan Plumer
(pastor of First Presbyterian Church, Richmond, Virginia), and ruling elders
Walter Lowrie (former U. S. Senator from Pennsylvania and secretary of the
Western Foreign Missionary Society) and James Lenox (one of the wealthiest men
in New York City)–all of whom were known as staunch Old School Presbyterians.
Not surprisingly, this committee
recommended a clear statement against New School doctrines, along with the
abrogation of the Plan of Union on the grounds that the Plan of Union was
unconstitutionally adopted because it was never approved by the presbyteries.[78] After a day and a half of debate, the Assembly voted
143-110 to terminate the Plan of Union. New School men pointed out that the
present constitution had been adopted in 1821–twenty years after the Plan of
Union had been formed–but that no one had suggested at that time that the Plan
of Union was contrary to it. Ashbel Green and Archibald Alexander, who had
helped frame the Plan of Union thirty-six years before, now argued that they
had been wrong. And if the original Plan was unconstitutional (since it gave
unordained committee men a vote in presbyteries–contrary to the explicit
statement of the Presbyterian Form of Government), then it was null and void,
and no matter how long it had been accepted, it still remained an illegal act,
and therefore had to be revoked.[79] Presbyterian government and discipline had been
compromised by the Plan of Union–which had resulted in the vitiation of
Presbyterian doctrine as well. The solution was to go back to allowing only
Presbyterians to sit in Presbyterian church courts.[80] In other words, the watering down of Presbyterian
standards did not result in true catholicity, because it ignored orthodoxy and
substituted individual conscience for the common confession of the church. As
Hodge concluded:
The grand evil, however,
attending the plan is, that it breaks down the hedge around our portion of the
garden of the Lord, and allows it to be trodden down and wasted. Our system of
government, our confession of faith, our whole constitution, are. . . means to
an end. We believe that truth is necessary to holiness, and that discipline is
necessary to the preservation of truth. [81]
Having
ended the Plan of Union, the Old School majority pushed for the discipline of
those synods who had failed to enforce Presbyterian order. The initial proposal
was to call several synods to the next General Assembly to answer accusations
regarding alleged failures in doctrine and practice. After passing this measure
by a narrow margin (129-122), many in the Assembly urged that the church seek
an “amicable separation,” or, as Robert J. Breckinridge put it, a “voluntary
division.”[82] A committee of ten was formed, consisting of four
ministers and one ruling elder from each side.[83] After three days of negotiation the committee
reported that they could agree as to the wisdom of the separation, along with
the division of funds and institutions, but they disagreed as to whether the
General Assembly had the power to effect the division without consultation with
the presbyteries. In an ironic twist the New School argued that whereas the
General Assembly had the right to establish a Plan of Union with the
Congregationalists without consulting the presbyteries, it could not authorize
the division of the Presbyterian Church without such consultation. Reversing
their position from the previous debates, now the New School argued that the
powers of the General Assembly were strictly limited to those granted by the
constitution. The Old School, on the other hand, had just won the
constitutional point that the Plan of Union required ratification by the
presbyteries–but now argued that the division of the church could be determined
by the General Assembly alone. Claiming that no constitutional issue was at
stake, the Old School insisted that reference to the presbyteries was
unnecessary. Both sides were taking pragmatic grounds–since the New School knew
that delay was the only way for them to regain the majority, and the Old School
feared that same result. With no plan for amicable separation, the whole
subject was laid on the table 139-107 (following party lines), on the motion of
Robert J. Breckinridge.[84]
The Old School convention had
prepared for this outcome. They had hoped that the New School would agree to a
voluntary separation, but they were determined to divide the Presbyterian
Church at this General Assembly. Their commitment to the principle of a
corporate conscience meant that they could not rest until those whom they
perceived to be of a different mind were out of the church. At this moment
William Swan Plumer rose and presented the following resolution: “Resolved,
That by the operation of the abrogation of the plan of union of 1801, the synod
of the Western Reserve is, and is hereby declared to be, no longer a part of
the Presbyterian church in the United States.”[85] While the debate continued for two days the outcome
was never in doubt, and the Western Reserve Synod was excinded by a vote of
132-105.[86]
That afternoon Robert J.
Breckinridge brought a recommendation that the American Home Missionary Society
and the American Education Society cease their operations within the bounds of
the Presbyterian church. After a day of debate, this passed 124-86, on the
grounds that the influence of these societies was too great for organizations
that were not directly responsible to the church. Especially since the leaders
of the AHMS and AES were zealous advocates of the New School, there was little
desire among Old School presbyters to see their continued influence.[87]
The following morning (Saturday,
June 3), Robert J. Breckinridge tested the water to see how far the Old School
would go. If the majority had been willing to declare that the Synod of the
Western Reserve was not a part of the Presbyterian church by virtue of its
unconstitutional formation, perhaps they would go for the same argument again.
Presenting a resolution declaring the synods of Utica, Geneva and Genesee to be
“out of the ecclesiastical connexion of the Presbyterian church,” Breckinridge
argued that if the Western Reserve Synod was to be excluded, then the western
New York synods should also be excised, because they were also formed on the
basis of the Plan of Union. The New School objected that the majority of these
churches were strictly presbyterian in structure, and claimed that any
irregularities should be dealt with by calling the three synods to give an
account of themselves to the next Assembly. The debate continued through
Saturday and Monday, finally resulting in a 115-88 vote to exclude the three
synods.[88] The Old School had held firm to its course, with very
few defections from its ranks, and had accomplished the excision of four New
School synods, and the disowning of the AHMS and the AES.
E. The Role of Slavery in the General Assembly of 1837
When the roll was called, the Plan
of Union was abrogated by a vote of 143-110. This is almost a mirror image of
the 134-96 vote the previous year that acquitted Barnes (if the members of the
Synod of Philadelphia had been able to vote on the Barnes case in 1836, the
vote would likely have been 139-112). So with almost identical attendance, it
appears that around thirty votes changed from siding with the New School on the
Barnes appeal, to siding with the Old School on the abrogation of the Plan of
Union. Which presbyteries switched sides?
By synod: 1836 vs. Barnes 1837 for Abrogation
Southern Synods
Missouri: 0-4 1-3
Kentucky: 7-2 6-1
Virginia 4-6 12-1
North Carolina 6-0 6-0
Tennessee 0-10 2-4
West Tennessee 3-5 7-0
South Carolina/Georgia 9-0 8-1
Mississippi/South Alabama 7-1 8-0
Total
of all Southern synods: 36-28 50-10
“Plan
of Union” Synods 1-55 1-51
New
Jersey 7-12 14-6
Philadelphia (Not
allowed to vote) 19-9
Other
Northern 52-39 59-34
Overall
vote: 96-134 143-110
Figure 1.6. Comparison of 1836 and 1837 General Assembly
Voting Patterns
With a seven vote shift in New
Jersey (the presbyteries of Elizabethtown and New Brunswick), an eight vote
shift in Virginia (East and West Hanover presbyteries), and the effect of an
eight vote shift in the Tennessee synods (two presbyteries switched to voting
Old School, while New School presbyteries failed to send full delegations), Old
School success was plainly due to their ability to persuade Princeton and the
upper South–the two regions where the New Divinity had peacefully coexisted
with traditional Presbyterian theology for decades.
This does not comport with the claim
that slavery was the most significant reason for the southern support for the
Old School. While the deep South–especially South Carolina–could at times sound
paranoid about northern designs on slavery, those from the upper south prided
themselves on their confidence in their northern brethren. In 1837, when
members of the Charleston Union Presbytery in South Carolina urged the
formation of a southern General Assembly, the Watchman of the South
printed a letter from Judge Henry Potter of North Carolina (a ruling elder from
Fayetteville Presbytery), who argued that a southern General Assembly was
totally unnecessary. Plenty of orthodox men at the North objected to
abolitionism, and a united Old School church would remain a strong bulwark
against radicalism in church and state.[89]
The reason for the late switch by
Princeton and the upper South was simply that when forced to choose, they
decided that they had more in common, both doctrinally and culturally with the
Old School than with the New School. Indeed, many pastors and churches who went
with the New School initially out of conviction that the Old School had acted
unconstitutionally, returned to the Old School within a few years.[90]
The issue of slavery may have
influenced some southerners to vote with the Old School, but it influenced
others to side with the New School. Ten thousand southern Presbyterians sided
with the New School in 1838, on the grounds that the Old School had acted
unconstitutionally. Some southern New Schoolers (especially those in eastern
Tennessee) had embraced the New Divinity, and agreed theologically with the New
School, but others, such as William Hill and the New School party in Virginia,
joined the New School out of protest against the exscinding acts. In the matter
of slavery, several southern New School presbyteries passed resolutions
instructing their commissioners to withdraw from the New School General
Assembly if it should try to legislate against slavery.[91] Indeed the Farmville Convention of 1838 (which formed
the foundation for the southern New School movement) overtly declared that the
1818 General Assembly statement against slavery had been “an unwarranted
assumption of power”and declared that the church had no business speaking on
the subject of slavery.[92] This was intended as a clear statement to northern
New Schoolers that if they wanted a southern wing, they had to leave slavery
alone.[93] In contrast Old School southerners initially
refrained from comment on the 1818 deliverance, tending (at least at first) to
be less radically pro-slavery than their New School southern brethren.
The Assembly of 1837, on the last
day of its sessions, voted 93-28 to table any discussion of slavery. After
three full weeks of debate, many commissioners had gone home and there was
little interest in bringing up another controversial issue. Nonetheless, the
vote divided strictly along party lines. Everyone who had voted for the
abrogation of the Plan of Union voted to table the issue of slavery, except the
Rev. Thomas Brown of Union Presbytery, Tennessee. Among those who had opposed
abrogation, only the Rev. Elipha White of Charleston Union Presbytery, South
Carolina, and ruling elder David Burnet of Newark Presbytery, New Jersey, voted
to table the slavery question. The big change from 1836 was that the southern
synods had voted 25-40 in 1836 on the question of indefinite postponement. Now
they voted 40-2 (two Tennessee men–including Brown–being the only two
southerners to oppose it) to table the question.[94]
Many historians have appealed to the
“gag order” agreed upon by the Old School convention of 1837 to make their
claim that the South enforced silence upon the northern Old School in exchange
for southern votes. What is frequently neglected is an analysis of who was
being gagged. It was not the case that northern Old Schoolers wanted to
make a statement, and that southerners objected. As the following table shows,
it was the southerners who had wanted a clear resolution that the church had no
authority to speak on the subject in 1836, but who agreed to shut up in 1837.[95] With the excision of the Plan of Union synods, Old
School southerners were content to leave the slavery question unanswered.
Postpone (1836) Table (1837)
Old School North 49-7 52-0
Old
School South 9-23 34-1
Old School Vote 58-30 86-1
All southerners: 25-40 40-2
Overall
vote: 154-87 93-28
The “Old School” vote is determined simply by those who had
voted against Barnes in 1836 and those who had voted to revoke the Plan of
Union in 1837.
Figure
1.7. Old School Votes on the
Slavery Question, 1836-1837
James Moorhead has aptly noted that
“it is probably misleading to pose the question in a manner that draws a sharp
distinction between concern for proper doctrine and concern with social issues
such as slavery.” Both were part of “an anxiety that legitimate authority was
under assault and was collapsing.”[96] Moorhead at least points towards the idea that for
most Old School Presbyterians, the error of the abolitionists was a theological
error. Proper order in society would be found only as the orthodox portion of
each denomination triumphed. Sound theology would correct the extreme errors in
society–therefore they believed that the best way to correct social problems
was through sound preaching. This was not merely a conversionist approach to
social ills. Old School Presbyterians were convinced that while conversion was
essential for eternal life, evangelical Christianity had a power to restrain
evil in society that was rooted in its correspondence with the way God created
the world. Therefore the inroads of Pelagianism in New School theology would
invariably lead to the breakdown of society as well.
R. J. Breckinridge reflected on this
after the 1837 Assembly. Tracing the decline of the church to the rise of
Constantinian and papal “bondage,” Breckinridge argued that a new era of
unbridled liberty was dawning. Not only in Europe, but also “in the United
States, at this moment, we are passing through a signal and before unknown
development. Religious fanaticism, united to civil licentiousness, is spreading
over the land--and unless thoroughly arrested, must degrade religion and
subvert society.”[97] The solution could only be found in evangelical
religion. Breckinridge argued that every evangelical sect was under attack from
a Pelagian (which he equated with “papal”) theology: Hicksism among the
Friends, Campbellism among the Baptists, high churchism in the Episcopalians,
Taylorism in the Congregationalists, and New Schoolism among the Presbyterians.
These “do all, and all nearly equally, sap the foundations of the Christian's
hope--take from the gospel its distinctive character--and threaten the total
ruin of the church of God. It is a great defection from the bosom of
protestantism--in which its erring children, have stepped back upon the
fundamental principle of papal doctrine, and become unwitting instruments of
the man of sin.”[98] Therefore, Breckinridge argued, our true allies are
the orthodox in each denomination.
4.
The Response to the 1837 General Assembly
But before the Old School could
start working on the reform of the nation, they had to consolidate their gains.
Old School leaders quickly moved to defend their actions in the periodical
press. The success of their “reformation” would depend on whether the General
Assembly of 1838 recognized its actions as legitimate–and that depended upon
getting presbyteries to send commissioners who would support the exscinding
acts. This would require further polemical work in the western and southern
presbyteries–especially in Illinois, Indiana, Tennessee, and Virginia. This
task was easily conducted in the west. The Western Presbyterian Herald
of Louisville, Kentucky, edited by William L. Breckinridge (brother of Old
School champion Robert J. Breckinridge) was the leading Old School paper in
that region, with a subscription of around 2,000–half in Kentucky and a quarter
in Ohio, along with another 20% from Indiana, Illinois and Missouri.[99] In Tennessee, John T. Edgar’s American
Presbyterian was now defending the Old School more openly.[100] Edgar assured his readers that the Old School had not
divided the Assembly. If the true Presbyterians in the excluded synods desired
to enter the Presbyterian church properly, then the whole matter would be
resolved without schism.[101] Philip Lapsley urged Tennessee Presbyterians to avoid
the divisions that other regions faced. Even if the Assembly of 1838 failed to
support the actions of 1837, he urged the West Tennessee synod to remain
united: “Let those who have no attachment to our excellent standards set up for
themselves, or seek other connections: but as for us, we must remain united.
We are brethren and cannot divide.”[102]
New School ministers were not
convinced. Southern New School writers such as Isaac Anderson compared the Old
School actions of 1837 to the “Roman Catholic Inquisition,” declaring that the
“measures of the last Assembly have not been surpassed in any Protestant
church, since the Reformation, for injustice, oppression, and tyranny.”[103] New School consciences were clear of offense because
of the great tyranny of the Old School.
In order to maintain the majority,
the Old School would need to hold such swing states as Virginia. The problem
there was that the New England-born Amasa Converse edited the Southern
Religious Telegraph along moderate lines–though after the Assembly of 1837,
he declared his full support for the New School. So in September of 1837,
William Swan Plumer, a native of western Pennsylvania (PTS 1827), and pastor of
the First Presbyterian Church in Richmond, Virginia, launched the Watchman
of the South, a weekly Old School paper that would defend the Assembly’s
actions, and try to bring the whole southern Presbyterian church behind the
exscinding acts.[104] Politically, as well as temperamentally, Plumer was a
good choice as an editor. In the early 1830s he had been a zealous supporter of
the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and had developed a
good reputation among southern moderates, while his role in the 1837 Assembly
gave him credibility among the hardliners.[105] Claiming that neutrality was impossible, Plumer urged
the church not to neglect the doctrine and discipline of the church, but to
maintain and defend the distinguishing doctrines of the Presbyterian Church.[106] Opening his paper with communications from Samuel
Miller and Archibald Alexander of Princeton Seminary, Plumer quickly gained
Virginia’s ear.[107] By January, 1838, the Watchman of the South
had reached 2,000 subscribers, and topped 4,000 by the beginning of the third
volume in 1839–by which time Amasa Converse had moved his paper to
Philadelphia, where he hoped to provide a paper that would satisfy conservative
New Schoolers both in the north and south.
Another concern was the seminaries.
Princeton and Western were generally trusted, but Union and Columbia (the two
southern seminaries) were suspect. The Southern Christian Herald
suggested that since the two leading professors at Columbia Theological
Seminary, Aaron Leland and George Howe, were New England born and trained, they
might be tainted with New School theology. In July of 1837, John Witherspoon
wrote to defend them. While admitting that Leland and Howe had been moderates,
he pointed out that they now supported the actions of the Assembly.[108] Editor MacLean replied that their personal beliefs
were not the only issue. Columbia Seminary graduates had not supported the Old
School. “We, so far, know of only two that have been connected with this
Seminary, who have interested themselves on behalf of the Herald.”[109] They may be sound, but they did not support the Old
School in the midst of the trial. MacLean hinted that such fair weather friends
might not be the sorts of men the church should have teaching in her
seminaries.[110] The following spring he reported that professors
Hiram Goodrich and Stephen Taylor had resigned from Union Theological Seminary
in Virginia, due to their New School proclivities,[111] which some hoped would provoke Leland and Howe to do
the same.
When some subscribers complained
that MacLean was not recommending Columbia Seminary, he replied that the
seminary will mold the church and the church must be convinced that it wants to
go that direction. Since the professors have not been forthcoming in matters of
controversy, MacLean would not support them.[112] MacLean explained that the New School men in
Charleston had supported the election of Leland. Likewise, in 1836 Leland had
been elected to the faculty of the Union Seminary in New York–an overtly New
School seminary. “His declining the appointment may be an evidence that in this
they judged wrong. But it seemed, and still seems to us that when the character
of the errors taught by some of the New School and protected by the whole
party, is considered, no orthodox teacher of candidates for the ministry ought
to have left any room to doubt, for so long a time, on which side he was.”[113] But South Carolina was making peace with the Columbia
professors, and shortly thereafter the Southern Christian Herald folded
into the Watchman of the South and the Columbia Seminary controversy
faded out of public view.
5.
The General Assembly of 1838
On May 17, 1838, the General
Assembly met in the Seventh Presbyterian church in Philadelphia. When the
clerks called the roll, they omitted the excised synods, which called forth a
protest from the New School members of the Assembly, who knew that without
those four synods, there was no chance of regaining control of the Assembly. But
the Old School majority had no intention of reopening the question. When the
Rev. Miles P. Squier, a minister in Geneva Presbytery, claimed a right to a
seat in the Assembly, the moderator replied, “we do not know you, sir.” The
exscinded synods were no longer a part of the Presbyterian church. At this, the
Rev. John P. Cleaveland of Detroit began to read a paper declaring that the
General Assembly had violated its own constitution, and calling for a
constitutional organization of the Assembly. The moderator, the Rev. David
Elliott, attempted repeatedly to call him to order, but since it was impossible
to hear over Cleaveland’s loud voice, “business was suspended during the short
but painful scene of confusion and disorder which ensued.”[114] The New School men elected a moderator and clerks,
and then adjourned to the First Presbyterian church in Philadelphia to continue
their business. Both bodies “claimed to be the General Assembly of the
Presbyterian church in the United States, and proceeded accordingly to exercise
its functions.”[115] Predictably, a series of long and fruitless lawsuits
ensued in which the New School Assembly attempted to demonstrate that it was
the true, constitutional General Assembly, and therefore deserved the name, the
property, and the funds of the Presbyterian General Assembly.[116]
In the wake of the division, the Old
School Assembly called upon all Presbyterians to unite “upon the basis of the
Assemblies of 1837‑and 1838, to adhere to the Presbyterian church in the
United States.” Charles Hodge pointed out that while the language was
regrettably ambiguous, this did not require presbyteries to approve of the acts
of the Assemblies of 1837 and 1838, but merely required that presbyteries
adhere to the same General Assembly that met in 1837 and 1838. “Is the part
which remains the true church? That is the question. . . . It requires that
those who wish to belong to the church as at present constituted, should regard
it as the Presbyterian church of the United States, and not as a company of
seceders.”[117]
The pastoral letter of 1839 set
forth the Old School conviction that the division had been primarily about
orthodoxy. Some bishops and elders who had professed to adopt the Confession of
Faith “have been allowed publicly to avow opinions subversive of its
distinguishing doctrines.” The Assembly declared that they protested
against the unfairness of
those who adopt our standards in a sense different from their obvious import,
contrary to the known and generally received interpretation, as a dishonesty
and an injury against which the Presbyteries are bound to protect the churches,
and against which the churches should both watch and pray. The Presbyteries
should remember that they are not independent bodies, each acting for itself
alone, and therefore at liberty to receive any candidate who, they may suppose,
is qualified to do good. The Presbyteries are co-ordinate members of an
extended communion, bound together by a written compact. When, therefore, they
admit a member who has not the constitutional qualifications, they are guilty
of a breach of faith.[118]
If
the Presbyterian church was to retain a distinctive confessional identity, then
the presbyteries would have to abide by a common standard of orthodoxy.
Conclusion
The Presbyterian division of 1837
was not about slavery. But with the Free Church disruption of 1843, the
Methodist and Baptist divisions of 1844-1845, and the Anglican controversy over
the Tractarians and the Gorham case, the British-American religious world was
severely fractured. While the controversies focused on such diverse issues as
patronage, slavery, and the sacraments, their coincidence suggests that the
years 1835-1845 witnessed the breaking point of older ideals of catholicity and
conscience. The same forces that divided churches over a range of issues in the
1830s and 1840s were also at work in society.
The Old School hardliners had succeeded at forcing the New School out. But their success was due to their alliance with the moderates–centered in Princeton and the upper south. Further, the Old School was the continuing church. Except in the exscinded synods, churches that preferred not to make a fuss about the issue generally stayed in the Old School. Over the next decade an Old School identity would be forged through a series of issues that percolated through the various regional synods, and finally came for decision to the Old School General Assembly. Most of these issues would be decided by overwhelming majorities. The 1840s demonstrate that a broad consensus was forming around a number of issues: church polity, moral discipline, catholicity, education, and even slavery. By 1848 Old School identity appeared to be well-constructed. Could the Old School maintain its distinctive confessional identity and its catholic sensibilities in an age of conscience?
[1]For a
study of the British churches in the political context of the first half of the
nineteenth century, see Stewart J. Brown, The National Churches of England,
Ireland, and Scotland, 1801-1846 (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2001). Brown argues that the first quarter of the nineteenth century witnessed
a significant project of “Protestant nation-building,” based on the assumption
that the established churches could play a significant role in forming the
identity of the nation. But with “the Repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts
in 1828, the passing of Catholic Emancipation in 1829, and the Parliamentary
Reform Act of 1832,” the British churches found themselves overwhelmed by the
tide of dissent. By the 1830s the question was whether to have an established
church at all. The parallels with the American fragmentation are significant
(404). See also John Shelton Reed, Glorious Battle: The Cultural Politics of
Victorian Anglo-Catholicism (Nashville: Vanderbilt University Press, 1996);
Peter Brooke, Ulster Presbyterianism: The Historical Perspective, 1610-1970
(Befast, 1994); Stewart J. Brown and Michael Fry, eds., Scotland in the Age
of the Disruption (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1993); A. L.
Drummond and J. Bulloch, The Scottish Church, 1688-1843: The Age of the
Moderates (Edinburgh, 1973); Drummond and Bulloch, The Church in
Victorian Scotland, 1843-1874 (Edinburgh and St. Andrews, 1975).
[2]There had
been secessions from Protestant churches prior to this, but such divisions had
either been geographical (e.g., the formation of the New Side Presbyterian
Synod of New York in 1745), or else had consisted of small groups of dissenters
(e.g., the Covenanters who separated from the Church of Scotland in 1690–but
who could not find three ministers to form a presbytery for more than a
generation, or the English Independents). Such movements certainly suggest the
rising emphasis on individual conscience, but it should not be forgotten that
the vast majority of Reformed ministers and members considered such actions
schismatic–even when they sympathized with the concerns of the seceders. See
[give literature on Scottish churches]. The fact remained that while some
Protestants were developing more radical views of conscience, the overwhelming
majority remained convinced of relatively traditional views of catholicity.
[3]For two
examples of the changing relationship between catholicity and orthodoxy, see R. P. C. Hanson,
The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God: the Arian Controversy, 318-381
(Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1988); M. D. Lambert, Medieval Heresy:
Popular Movements from Bogomil to Hus (London: Edward Arnold, 1977).
[4]See Bard
Thompson, ed., Liturgies of the Western Church (Cleveland: The World
Publishing Company, 1961); Hughes Oliphant Old, The Patristic Roots of
Reformed Worship (Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1975); Mark A. Noll, ed., Confessions
and Catechisms of the Reformation (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 1991).
[5]See John
L. Carson and David W. Hall, eds., To Glorify and Enjoy God: A Commemoration
of the 350th Anniversary of the Westminster Assembly (Edinburgh:
The Banner of Truth Trust, 1994); also see Thomas Scott, The Articles of the
Synod of Dort (Harrisonburg, VA: Sprinkle Publications, 1993/reprint).
[6]George M.
Frederickson claims that the “church-centered, organic view of society, with
its stress on tradition and authority, was held by a small minority” in
America. The Inner Civil War: Northern Intellectuals and the Crisis of the
Union (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1993/1965) 28. For his circle
of “intellectuals” that is probably true–as well as for the Finneyite
revivalists. But catholicity remained an important principle for the Reformed
center, even as its definition was altered significantly.
[7]The case
for the inclusion of the Methodists in the general category of “Reformed
Christianity” is persuasively made in Paul K. Conkin, The Uneasy Center:
Reformed Christianity in Antebellum America (Chapel Hill: The University of
North Carolina Press, 1995). Certainly Old School Presbyterians viewed
Methodists as generally one of “us,” while such radical sects as the Disciples,
Mormons, and Millerites were outside the pale of orthodox Christianity. See
chapter 3 for more on this.
[8]Nathan O.
Hatch provides some samples in The Democratization of American Christianity
(New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988) 227ff.
[9]The Westminster
Confession is adding further emphasis on the rights of conscience due to
their conviction that the Church of England had gone too far in enforcing “human
traditions” in the church.
[10]The
Separate Baptists in New England reveal the extent to which the primacy of
conscience had taken root in New England soil, but Baptists such as Isaac
Backus were concerned to demonstrate their continuity with the English Baptist
movement and the heritage of New England Puritanism–whereas the Disciples of
Christ were proud of their break with tradition. See Backus, A History of
New England with Particular Reference to the Denomination of Christians Called
Baptists 2 vols. (Newton, MA: Backus Historical Society, 1871); cf Hatch, Democratization
162ff.
[11]The London
Baptist Confession (1689), which was a revision of the Westminster
Confession along Baptist lines, eliminated any reference to the catholicity
of the visible church. It stated, “The catholic or universal church, which
(with respect to the internal work of the Spirit and truth of grace) may be
called invisible, consists of the whole number of the elect, that have been,
are, or shall be gathered into one, under Christ, the head thereof; and is the
spouse, the body, the fulness of him that filleth all in all” (26.1). With
respect to the visible church, it simply stated that “All persons throughout
the world, professing the faith of the gospel, and obedience unto God by Christ
according unto it, not destroying their own profession by any errors everting
the foundation, or unholiness of conversation, are and may be called visible
saints; and of such ought all particular congregations to be constituted”
(26.2). They also revised the chapter on conscience, removing any reference to
civil or church authority, stating only that “They who upon pretence of
Christian liberty do practice any sin, or cherish any sinful lust, as they do
thereby pervert the main design of the grace of the gospel to their own
destruction, so they wholly destroy the end of Christian liberty, which is,
that being delivered out of the hands of all our enemies, we might serve the
Lord without fear, in holiness and righteousness before Him, all the days of
our lives” (21.3). Presbyterians initially rejected this spiritualization of
conscience. One could argue that the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries
witnessed the political clash between Episcopal emphasis on catholicity and
Baptist emphasis on conscience, with Congregationalists and Presbyterians
attempting to maintain a middle ground (though increasingly moving in a Baptist
direction).
[12]Formerly
known as the Westminster Confession of Faith, after 1789 the formal
title was The Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Church in the United
States of America, though it was still often popularly referred to as the
“Westminster Confession.” The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church in the
United States of America (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication,
1839).
[13]Presbyterians
generally expected that Christianity would be the official religion of the
United States (they did, after all specify that the magistrate should not
prefer one denomination of Christians above another).
[14]S. J.
Cassells, “Conscience--Its Nature, Office and Authority” Southern Presbyterian
Review (SPR) 6.4 (April 1853) 454. Cf. J. La Placette, “Essays
on the Conscience” Spirit of the XIXth Century (SXC) 2.2
(February, 1843).
[15]Practically
every General Assembly commented on the importance of catechetical instruction
in the annual “Narrative of the State of Religion,” e.g., Minutes (1840)
452. Newspapers also regularly encouraged this practice. Among literally
hundreds of similar exhortations, see Watchman of the South 7:19
(October 19, 1843); Presbyterian 27.47 (November 20, 1858) 189.
[16]Andrew
L. Drummond and James Bulloch, The Church in Victorian Scotland, 1843-1874
(Edinburgh: The Saint Andrew Press, 1975) 38ff.
[17]Eugene
Genovese, “Religion in the Collapse of the American Union,” Religion and the
Civil War edited by Randall M. Miller, Harry S. Stout and Charles Reagan
Wilson (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998) 83.
[18]Hatch, Democratization
40-43.
[19]Ernst H.
Kantorowicz has demonstrated that the transference of theological language from
church to state is nothing new. See Kantorowicz’s discussion of the transformation
of the language of the church as “mystical body” to the secular state as
“mystical body,” in The King’s Two Bodies: A Study in Mediaeval Political
Theology (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1997/1957) 193-232.
[20]The most
thorough treatments of the division are Earl A. Pope, New England Calvinism
and the Disruption of the Presbyterian Church (New York: Garland, 1987),
and George M. Marsden, The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian
Experience: A Case Study of Thought and Theology in Nineteenth‑Century
America (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1970).
[21]Minutes
(1801) 224.
[22]For
Finney’s revivals and the surrounding debates, see Whitney R. Cross, Burned
Over District: Social and Intellectual History of Enthusiastic Religion in
Western New York, 1800-1850 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1950);
Charles Hambrick-Stowe, Charles G. Finney and the Spirit of American
Evangelicalism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996); Keith J. Hardman, Charles
Grandison Finney, 1792-1875: Revivalist and Reformer (Syracuse: Syracuse
University Press, 1987); and Glenn A. Hewitt, Regeneration and Morality: A
Study of Charles Finney, Charles Hodge, John W. Nevin, and Horace Bushnell
(Brooklyn, NY: Carlson Publishing, 1991).
[23]The
American Biblical Repository (1839) 479ff, quoted in Maurice W. Armstrong,
et al, The Presbyterian Enterprise: Sources of American Presbyterian History (Philadelphia:
Westminster Press, 1956) 160-161.
[24]The
history of the evangelical united front is told by Charles I. Foster, An
Errand of Mercy: The Evangelical United Front (Chapel Hill: University
of North Carolina Press, 1960) and Charles C. Cole, Jr., The Social Ideas of
the Northern Evangelists, 1826-1860 (New York, 1954); Lois Wendland Banner,
“The Protestant Crusade: Religious Missions, Benevolence, and Reform in the
United States, 1790-1840,” (Ph.D. dissertation, Columbia University, 1970).
Banner argues that denominational mission boards prior to 1840 were unable to
compete with the better structure and flexibility of the voluntary societies.
She attributes the demise of the United Front to the denominational jealousy of
the 1830s (350ff).
[25]Foreign
missions movements in the Reformed churches in the nineteenth century
intentionally avoided sending missionaries to places already occupied by other
Reformed churches. The goal was to establish only one church in each foreign
region–indicating that a measure of catholicity was still operative.
[26]The best
book on Taylor is Douglas A. Sweeney, Nathaniel Taylor, New Haven Theology,
and the Legacy of Jonathan Edwards (New York: Oxford University Press,
2003). Sweeney has challenged the dominant tendency to view Taylor as the
symbol of the decline of Edwardsian Calvinism, and calls him “a symbol of the
vitality of Edwardsian Calvinism throughout the first half of the nineteenth
century.” (4-5) And while Finney plainly attempted to popularize Taylor’s
views, Taylor himself was not impressed (151). See also Joseph A. Conforti, Samuel
Hopkins and the New Divinity Movement: Calvinism, the Congregational Ministry,
and Reform in New England between the Great Awakenings (Grand Rapids:
Christian University Press, 1981); David W. Kling, A Field of Divine
Wonders: The New Divinity and Village Revivals in Northwestern Connecticut,
17921822 (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1993); and
Mark Valeri, Law and Providence in Joseph Bellamy's New England: The Origins
of the New Divinity in Revolutionary America (New York: Oxford University
Press, 1994); Allen C. Guelzo, Edwards on the Will: A Century of American
Theological Debate (Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1989).
[27]Referring
to the controversy between Augustine and Pelagius regarding sin and grace. See
Peter Brown, Augustine of Hippo (Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1969).
[28]James H.
Moorhead, “The ‘Restless Spirit of Radicalism’: Old School Fears and the Schism
of 1837,” JPH 78:1 (Spring 2000) 23.
[29]Minutes
(1817) 653-655, quoted in Samuel J. Baird, A Collection of the Acts,
Deliverances and Testimonies of the Supreme Judicatory of the Presbyterian
Church (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1856) 646.
[30]Among
the doctrinal essays combating New England in the Princeton Review were
Archibald Alexander, “The Early History of Pelagianism,” 2.1 (January 1830);
Alexander, “The Doctrine of Original Sin as Held by the Church, Both Before and
After the Reformation,” 2.4 (October 1830); Alexander, “An Inquiry into that
Inability under which the Sinner Labours,” 3.3 (July 1831); Charles Hodge,
“Review of an Article in the June number of the Christian Spectator, entitled,
‘Inquiries respecting the Doctrine of Imputation,’” 2.3 (July 1830); Hodge,
“The New Divinity Tried,” 4.2 (April 1832); Hodge, “A Commentary on the Epistle
to the Romas. . . by Moses Stuart,” 5.3 (July 1833); Hodge, “Barnes on Romans,”
7.2 (April 1835); John S. Hart, “On the Extent of the Atonement,” 7.4 (October
1835); Albert B. Dod, “Views in Theology, by Lyman Beecher,” 9.2-3 (April-July,
1837).
[31]Circular
Letter (July 31, 1831) in William Warren Sweet, ed., Religion on the
American Frontier, 1783-1840: Vol II. The Presbyterians (Chicago: The
University of Chicago Press, 1936) 829. The signers were ministers Ashbel
Green, former president of the College of New Jersey, and editor of the Christian
Advocate, George C. Potts, Samuel G. Winchester, and William M. Engles,
pastors of the Fourth, Sixth, and Seventh Presbyterian Churches of
Philadelphia, respectively, and ruling elders Matthew L. Bevan, Solomon Allen,
and Furman Leaming.
[32]Baird, A
Collection, 40, citing Minutes (1833) 489.
[33]Wilson
to R. J. Breckinridge (February 12, 1834) in William Warren Sweet, ed., Religion
on the American Frontier, 1783-1840: Vol II. The Presbyterians (Chicago:
The University of Chicago Press, 1936) 739.
[34]Southern
Christian Herald (SCH) 2.48 (February 17, 1836). The editor, R. S.
Gladney, noted that Old School papers (the Standard, the Presbyterian,
and the Pittsburg Herald) were “fewer in number and less extensive in
circulation” than the New School papers (he included the Southern Religious
Telegraph and the New York Observer as being generally sympathetic
to the New School). See also Editorial, SCH 3.16 (July 15, 1836)
63. The irony was that just as the Southern Christian Herald began to
publish, Gildersleeve was becoming convinced of the Old School arguments. By
the end of 1835, the Charleston Observer was firmly supporting the Old
School, though Gildersleeve continued to allow free debate in the paper. The
Cheraw newspaper never was able to gain a sufficient subscription to maintain
an editor and folded into the Watchman of the South in 1839. It did have
the distinction of being the only Old School newspaper openly edited by a
ruling elder (M. MacLean of Cheraw who took over in 1837 and edited the paper
until its demise in 1839). MacLean’s unique status was an object of minor
controversy when the Rev. Amasa Converse (editor of the Southern Religious
Telegraph) took MacLean to task for rebuking ministers. MacLean replied:
“We are surely rising in the world and our importance magnifying, ‘layman’ as
we are. . . . The editor of the Telegraph is greatly shocked that a mere
‘layman’ like our humble self should presume to ‘turn out a Rebuker of’
ministers like him. . . . Let himself then, who
is no layman turn Reformer and bring the mighty influence of his paper to bear
on the church until he shall procure from it ‘A BULL’ to exclude from the hands
of laymen the Bible, or at least all religious papers not authorized by the sign
manual of Arch Bishop Peters at the North, or Dr. Beecher at the West, or
his Reverendship of the Telegraph at the South.” SCH 4.2
(April 7, 1837) 7.
[35]American
Presbyterian 1.1 (January 8, 1835). The paper was founded “under the
patronage and control of the Synod of West Tennessee,” and promised to deal
with other denominations, with “the spirit of forbearance, charity and
catholicism which the gospel enjoins.” Further, it would seek to heal the
divisions in the church. The paper published essays from both Samuel Miller and
Charles Finney and while Edgar thoroughly repudiated Finney’s Lectures on
Revival, he added a postscript that his views were “not the expression of the
sentiments of the entire Editorial corps.” editorial, American Presbyterian
1.21 (May 28, 1835) 83. The West Tennessee Synod would remain one of the
centers of moderate opinion until 1837.
[36]J. G.,
“A Query,” Presbyterian 2.7 (March 28, 1832) 26. This is the first
reference to “Old School” and “New School” that I have found (while I have not
conducted a thorough search–it is clear that in 1831 the terms are not used in
editorials, whereas in 1832 they are used regularly).
[37]Samuel
Miller “Letters to Presbyterians, on the Present Crisis in the Presbyterian
Church in the United States,” Presbyterian 3.3 (January 16, 1833) - 3.19
(May 8, 1833).
[38]A Layman
of the New School, “Division of the Church,” Presbyterian 5.21 (May
21, 1835) 83.
[39]Editorial,
“The Secret Out,” Presbyterian 5.24 (June 11, 1835) 95.
[40]Of
course, the problem was that these older notions of catholicity and conscience
were dissipating in the nineteenth century, and ministers and laity
increasingly found themselves bound by conscience to dissent from the decisions
of the church–regardless of the consequences for the church or for themselves.
[41]“The
Case of Rev. Albert Barnes, of the Philadelphia Synod,” Baltimore Literary
and Religious Magazine (BLRM) 2.2 (February, 1836) 57.
[42][Charles
Hodge], “The General Assembly of 1836,” BRPR 8.3 (July 1836) 464.
[43]David B.
Chesebrough, Clergy Dissent in the Old South, 1830-1865 (Carbondale:
Southern Illinois University Press, 1996) 3-4; Donald G. Mathews, Religion
in the Old South (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1977) 164.
[44]The list
of signatures comes from The Act and Testimony of the Minority of the
General Assembly (Philadelphia: William S. Martien, 1835) 13-28. Since there
are no records of the number of ruling elders at the time, it is impossible to
reconstruct the percentages of elders. Obviously the sample is weighted towards
those presbyteries and synods that had formally acted upon it–others had to
take the initiative to send their signature to Engles. Apparently the Synod of
South Carolina & Georgia did not communicate which ministers and elders had
voted for it, so the tally for that synod depended upon individual signatures.
[45]Benjamin
Gildersleeve, who edited the Charleston Observer in South Carolina
during the Old School/New School controversy, claimed that initially the
majority of the Deep South was opposed to the reforming measures of the Old
School, but that his principle of encouraging free discussion had helped
persuade the southern synods to support the Old School in the end.
Gildersleeve, “The Banner's Correspondent” W&O 10.37 (April 19,
1855) 140. Recall, of course, that Gildersleeve’s circle was in Charleston,
South Carolina–not exactly a typical town in the south.
[46]As an
indication of opinion in the deep south, the Presbytery of Georgia rejected a
Rev. Magill from New Haven West Association for Taylorism in 1835 when he
openly admitted that he did not agree with the Confession of Faith. See CO
9.19 (May 9, 1835). The SCH (September 1, 1837) 90, documents the
progress of southern support for the Old School.
[47]Act
and Testimony, 6.
[48]Act
and Testimony, 6.
[49]Of
course, New School men replied by arguing that the Old School were too limited
in their claim of what the “accepted sense” of the church had been. Charles
Hodge would later set forth the common Old School understanding of the animus
imponentis (the mind of the imposing body) with respect to the church’s
ordination vows. Hodge, “Adoption of the Confession of Faith,” BRPR 30.4
(October 1858) 668-691.
[50]Act
and Testimony, 7-8.
[51]Act
and Testimony, 8-9.
[52]Act
and Testimony, 10.
[53]This
claim will find echoes throughout the debates of the Old School. This twofold
connection with civil order and with orthodoxy remains central for decades, and
any attempt to weaken either one was resisted with gusto.
[54]Act
and Testimony, 12.
[55]Minutes
(1836) 292.
[56]Minutes
(1836) 292.
[57]“The
General Assembly of 1836” BRPR 8.3 (July 1836) 420.
[58]“The
General Assembly of 1836” BRPR 8.3 (July 1836) 425-439.
[59]Minutes
(1836) 268-270.
[60]Minutes
(1836) 268-270. Only Samuel Miller and a dozen moderates (the largest shifts
being three each from New Jersey and Virginia) moved from the pro-Barnes to the
anti-Barnes camp in this vote, which otherwise conformed to the previous ones.
[61]C. Bruce
Staiger, “Abolitionism and the Presbyterian Schism of 1837-1838,” Mississippi
Valley Historical Review 36 (December 1949) 391-414. This was the dominant
view in the middle decades of the twentieth century, accepted by Louis Filler, The
Crusade against Slavery, 1830-1860 (New York: Harper & Row, 1960)
185-186; Timothy L. Smith, Revivalism and Social Reform: American
Protestantism on the Eve of the Civil War (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins,
1980/1957) 185-186; Donald G. Mathews, Religion in the Old South
(Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1977) 163-164.
[62]George
M. Marsden, The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience:
A Case Study of Thought and Theology in Nineteenth‑Century America
(New Haven: Yale University Press, 1970), 5987; James H. Moorhead, “The
‘Restless Spirit of Radicalism’: Old School Fears and the Schism of 1837,” JPH
78:1 (Spring 2000) 19-34. See also Earl A. Pope, New England Calvinism and
the Disruption of the Presbyterian Church (New York: Garland, 1987), 530.
Chris Padgett has shown that even the most liberal Synod–the Western Reserve
Synod–was divided over abolition. Chris Padgett, “Evangelicals Divided:
Abolition and the Plan of Union’s Demise in Ohio’s Western Reserve,” Religion
and the Antebellum Debate over Slavery, John R. McKivigan & Mitchell
Snay, eds. (Athens: The University of Georgia Press, 1998) 249-272. Also see
Victor B. Howard, Conscience and Slavery: The Evangelistic Calvinist
Domestic Mission, 1837-1861 (Kent, OH: The Kent State University
Press, 1990) chapter 2.
[63]Minutes,
1836, 271. The Charleston Observer reported that a small group of
ministers had declared that they would withdraw from the Assembly rather than
debate slavery [CO 10.18 (Ap 30, 1836)], but also noted that a larger
group of commissioners determined simply to protest. [CO 10.24 (June 11,
1836).]
[64]Those
who voted to deny Barnes’ appeal voted 59-30 to indefinitely postpone the
slavery question. Those who voted to sustain Barnes’ appeal, voted 74-47 to
indefinitely postpone the slavery question. This is partly due to the fact that
the two groups that wanted resolution on the slavery question were the
extremists on both sides. Of the 47 “New School” votes against postponement, 32
came from those presbyteries that were excised in 1837 (and another 10 came
from parts of Missouri, Tennessee and Virginia that had a significant New
School presence), while of the 30 “Old School” postponement votes, 23 came from
the slaveholding states. In other words, of the 31 southerners who voted
against Barnes, only eight voted for the indefinite postponement of the slavery
question (another three from South Carolina–Rev. John LeRoy Davies, ruling elder
Thomas L. Dunlap, M.D. [friend and correspondent of J. H. Thornwell], and Rev.
Samuel S. Davis of Hopewell Presbytery--declined to vote on the grounds that
the question itself was inappropriate for the church to consider). On the other
hand, those northerners that voted for Barnes voted 58-37 to postpone the
slavery question. The Old School northwest voted 26-8 to postpone, while the
Old School northeast voted 19-1.
[65]Editorial,
“General Assembly,” SCH 2.46 (February 3, 1836).
[66]Editorial,
“Slavery,” SCH 2.52 (March 23, 1836). Twenty-five years later Gladney
would author a forthright rejection of the natural rights language of the
Declaration of Independence. See chapter ten.
[67]Baxter, SCH 3.18
(July 29, 1836) 70.
[68]Editorial,
SCH 3.18 (July 29, 1836) 70.
[69]Editorial
[M. MacLean], SCH 3.13 (June 24, 1836) 51.
[70]Editorial,
SCH 3.15 (July 8, 1836) 59. MacLean distinguished between those,
like ruling elders Nesbit of Georgia and Ewing of Ohio, who chose
Presbyterianism out of principle, and those who were still Congregationalists
at heart. See his editorial, SCH 3.14 (July 1, 1836) 55.
[71]W. L.
Breckinridge, from the Western Presbyterian Herald, cited in M.
MacLean’s editorial, SCH 3.15 (July 8, 1836) 59.
[72]“The
General Assembly of 1836” BRPR 8.3 (July 1836) 473-4.
[73]Ibid.,
476. Hodge noted that R. J. Breckinridge, one of the most outspoken leaders of
the Old School party, agreed with this position. In 1836 Hodge and Princeton
Seminary in general was perceived as moderate–so Hodge felt the importance of bringing
the weight of Breckinridge’s name into his argument.
[74]Plain
Truth, “Schism,” Presbyterian 7.10 (March 11, 1837).
[75]“Letter
from the Rev. Samuel Miller, D. D. of Princeton, to the Rev. John McElhenney,
of Virgina,” Presbyterian 7.16 (April 22, 1837) 62. Reprinted in SCH 4.6
(May 5, 1837) 21. [and all other Old School papers].
[76]“The
Convention,” CO 11.22 (June 3, 1837) 85.
[77]“The
Convention,” CO 11.22 (June 3, 1837) 85. Gildersleeve noted that while
many had opposed the convention, most “express their gratification at the
result.” Editorial, “The Convention,” 11.22 (June 3, 1837) 86.
[78]“The
General Assembly” BRPR 9.3 (July, 1837) 408-410. The reviewer, Charles
Hodge, who found himself a reluctant convert to the Old School arguments,
commented that it was generally not wise to call on General Assemblies to
“affirm or deny doctrinal propositions,” since it has the tendency to add or
subtract from the Confessional standards of the church.
[79]The
detailed arguments are summarized in the protest and answer of Minutes,
1837, 454-464.
[80]Hodge
pointed out that “The presbytery of Lorain, for example, contains twelve
churches, of which only one is presbyterian. The presbytery of Trumbull has
twelve ministers, and is said to contain but one presbyterian church. The synod
of the Western Reserve has one hundred and eighteen ministers, and is said to
have from twenty‑five to thirty presbyterian churches. This statement was
sustained on the floor of the Assembly by testimony of the members of the
Western Reserve synod themselves.” Yet these presbyteries with only one presbyterian
church were still represented at General Assembly in the same proportion as
those whose churches were entirely presbyterian. “The General Assembly” BRPR
9.3 (July 1837) 428. James Wood conducted a meticulous survey of the excluded
synods to ascertain the accuracy of these sorts of claims, published in the Watchman
of the South starting in November of 1837. It was also published as Facts
and Observations concerning the Organization and State of the Churches in the
Three Synods of Western New-York and the Synod of Western Reserve (Saratoga
Springs, NY: G. M. Davison, 1837).
[81]“The
General Assembly” BRPR 9.3 (July 1837) 431.
[82]Minutes
(1837) 426.
[83]The
committee consisted of Old School ministers Robert J. Breckinridge of
Baltimore, Archibald Alexander of Princeton, John Witherspoon of Camden, South
Carolina, Cornelius Cuyler of Philadelphia and ruling elder Nathaniel Ewing of
Redstone Presbytery (western Pennsylvania), along with New School ministers
Thomas McAuley and Absalom Peters of New York City, Nathan Beman of Troy,
Baxter Dickinson of Cincinnati, and ruling elder William Jessup of Montrose
Presbytery (New Jersey).
[84]Minutes
(1837) 437; “The General Assembly” BRPR 9.3 (July 1837) 447.
[85]Minutes
(1837) 440; “The General Assembly” BRPR 9.3 (July 1837) 447.
[86]Minutes
(1837) 440. “The General Assembly” BRPR 9.3 (July 1837) 452-464. The
debate spent a good deal of time wrestling with the U. S. Supreme Court
decision regarding Georgia’s treatment of the Cherokee Indians, and especially
Chief Justice Marshall’s decision regarding the validity of actions performed
under an unconstitutional law. The concluding speech, Thursday morning, by
ruling elder Samuel C. Anderson of Virginia, is said to have been the most
powerful speech of the Assembly. Hodge cited the New York Evangelist
(June 24, 1837), which quoted from the Ohio Observer, a paper edited by
the stated clerk of the Western Reserve synod, which urged the synod “to
declare itself an independent body, changing its name, perhaps, for the Western
Reserve General Consociation, and modifying its rules as circumstances shall
seem to require. This done, then let the presbyteries resolve themselves into
consociations, still maintaining the principles of government on which they
ever acted, and abiding by the same rules, with such alterations as may be
thought necessary.” Hodge commented that “The spirit of the whole article is
such as becomes a Christian minister, and is, in this respect, a striking contrast
with the humiliating tone and language of almost all the newschool papers in
their notices of the proceedings of the General Assembly.” (464)
[87]Minutes
(1837) 442-443. “The General Assembly” BRPR 9.3 (July 1837) 466.
[88]Minutes
(1837) 443-445. “The General Assembly” BRPR 9.3 (July 1837) 469-474.
Hodge was sympathetic to the minority on this point, but refrained from
speaking out at the request of Alexander and Miller who wished Princeton to
maintain a united stance with the Old School.
[89]Watchman
of the South (WS) 1.12 (November 16, 1837).
[90]Among
the dozens of examples, two will suffice. The Pearl Street Presbyterian Church
in Buffalo had initially attempted to find a middle road between the Old School
and the New School, but by 1842 they had become convinced that the errors
condemned by the “Act and Testimony. . . have prevailed and are
prevailing to an alarming extent, and we believe the integrity and purity of
our beloved Zion will be best promoted by an adhering of all who love her
doctrine and order, to the General Assembly.” Therefore they renamed the church
“The First Presbyterian Church of Buffalo in connection with the General
Assembly.” “The Presbyterian Church,” from the Buffalo Commercial Advertiser
and Journal, reprinted in the Presbyterian 12.45 (November 5, 1842)
178. Also in western New York, Ontario and Rochester Presbyteries had refused
to send commissioners to either General Assembly from 1839-1852 in an attempt
to hold together both parties. But when they formally joined the New School in
1852, several congregations seceded to form the Genesee River Presbytery of the
Old School. “A Statement of the Central Presbyterian Church in Geneseo, New
York, in Reply to Charges made by Members of the Presbytery of Ontario,” Presbyterian 29.11
(March 12, 1859) 41.
[91]Harold
Parker, The United Synod of the South (New York: Greenwood Press,
1988) 38.
[92]Parker, The
United Synod of the South, 41.
[93]Their
success is demonstrated in the fact that it was only twenty years later, in
1857, that the New School General Assembly finally made an explicitly
abolitionist statement. The New School maintained a similar stance to the Old
School (though increasingly leaning towards abolitionism); meanwhile southern
New School develops in more radically proslavery direction (the United Synod of
the South). From an Old School perspective, however, both sides appeared too
radical. See chapter seven for more detail.
[94]Immediately
after the Assembly, New School periodicals argued that the division was all
about slavery. The SCH 4.16 (July 14, 1837) 63, claimed that all
New School papers except the New York Observer and the Southern
Religious Telegraph had asserted this, but replied that “No intelligent man
can honestly allege that the votes of Northern Old School men, or indeed
of any Old School man, in the Assembly were given with reference to the
question of slavery.” Old School papers emphatically denied that slavery had
been a significant issue. Eight years later, however, the New School papers
were still making the claim. When Professor Calvin Stowe of Lane Seminary
claimed in the Evangelical Observer that the Old School bought the south
with the promise of getting rid of New England abolitionism, William Swan
Plumer replied: “There never was any such bargain,” between the Old School and
the South. WS 8.45 (June 26, 1845).
[95]For the
synodical discussions, see Ernst Trice Thompson, Presbyterians in the South
(Richmond: John Knox Press, 1963) 1:385-391.
[96]James H.
Moorhead, “The ‘Restless Spirit of Radicalism’: Old School Fears and the Schism
of 1837,” JPH 78:1 (Spring 2000) 29.
[97]“Controversy
in the Presbyterian Church--General Reflections” BLRM 3.7 (July, 1837)
304-307, quotation from 306.
[98]“Controversy
in the Presbyterian Church” 309. One example of Indiana Old School sentiment is
found in Robert F. Lay, “New School Missionaries and Old School Presbyters on
the Indiana Frontier: The Case of Samuel Newbury,” JPH 77:4 (Winter
1999) 225-236.
[99]From
receipts printed in the Western Presbyterian Herald, November 16,
1837-November 8, 1838. Also, in 1838, the Western Emigrant was started
as a monthly Old School periodical in Booneville, Missouri, to try to rally
support among Missouri Presbyterians.
[100]Edgar had Old School sympathies from the start (See his editorial in American Presbyterian 1.41 (October 15, 1835)), which is revealed in his editorial selections. His doctrinal articles came from moderate Old School sources (especially Princeton), while he only reprinted devotional material from New School papers. Just before the Assembly of 1837, his junior editor (a Mr. Thompson) took advantage of Edgar’s absence to publish a piece of personal polemics:
“In the late absence of the Rev. Dr. Edgar, a short article found its way into this paper, from one who fills, according to his own language, ‘an humble place in the Church,’ (we are not disposed from what has passed, to state whether through inadvertence or design on our part,) in which he animadverts on the Philadelphia Presbyterian for being absorbed in controversy, and for proposing what the writer conceived to be a blameable policy touching the division of the General Assembly. The effect of this production has been greatly to irritate the Editor in question, whereupon he has roundly charged us with doing injustice to himself, and not contributing to maintain the purity of the church. Whilst we are far from conceding that he has sufficient ground to conclude we are ill-affected towards him, we would be pleased to know by what mode of reasoning he identifies himself or the suggestions of an individual on a matter of ecclesiastical policy, with the doctrines and welfare of the presbyterian church.”
Junior Editor, American Presbyterian 3.17 (May 4,
1837) 66. Not surprisingly, after his return from the Assembly Edgar announced
that Mr. Thompson had resigned for reasons of his “health.”
[101]Editorial,
“No Division Yet,” American Presbyterian 3.24 (June 23, 1837) 95.
[102]American
Presbyterian 4.16 (April 26, 1838) 62.
[103]John
J. Robinson, Memoir of Rev. Isaac Anderson (Knoxville: J. Addison Rayle,
1860) 135, 137, quoted in Harold Parker, The United Synod of the South (New
York: Greenwood Press, 1988) 35.
[104]One
of Plumer’s goals was to force Converse out of Richmond. He never mentions the Southern
Religious Telegraph by name, and only once alludes to it in an article on
the response of the southern Presbyterian press to the 1837 Assembly. He points
out that all but one southern Presbyterian paper supported the exscinding acts
(naming the Charleston Observer, the Southern Christian Herald of
Cheraw, South Carolina, the New Orleans Observer, the American Presbyterian of
Nashville, Tennessee, the Western Protestant of Bardstown, Kentucky, the
Western Presbyterian Herald of Louisville, Kentucky, and the Western
Emigrant of Booneville, Missouri), but neglects to name the one opposing
paper! WS 1.30 (March 22, 1838).
[105]Editorial,
SCH 3.49 (March 3, 1837) 195. Plumer had been one of the leading
voices that aligned the southern and central Presbyterian Foreign Missions
Boards with the ABCFM. Cf. SCH (September 1, 1837) 90.
[106]Plumer,
“Presbyterian Papers” WS 1.7 (October 12, 1837) 27.
[107]Archibald
Alexander’s Thoughts on Religious Experience (1839-1840) and other
volumes (including “A Treatise on Justification” and “Letters to
Christians”–both in 1837-1838) were first published in serial form in the Watchman
of the South, adding to the attraction of the paper.
[108]John
Witherspoon, SCH 4.16 (July 14, 1837) 63.
[109]He
grudgingly admitted that a few others had taken the Presbyterian, the
leading Old School weekly.
[110]Editorial
comments on John Witherspoon, SCH 4.16 (July 14, 1837) 63.
[111]SCH 5.4
(April 27, 1838) 19.
[112]“Columbia
Theological Seminary,” SCH 5.29 (October 19, 1838) 115. Cf. A
Friend, SCH 5.13 (June 22, 1838) 51. MacLean occasionally turned
the paper over to “T” when he was especially busy. This may well be James
Henley Thornwell, who was frequently referred to as a behind-the-scenes player
in the controversy over Howe and Leland.
[113]“The
Theological Seminary,” SCH 5.30 (October 26, 1838) 119. Maclean
noted that recent graduates viewed the professors as sound, but they also think
that the professors had New School sympathies. “Did they think the Old School
right, and yet love the New School most? Did they believe their teachers were
Old School men with New School predilections? [Did they ever see a white man
with a black skin?]” Italics and brackets in the original.
[114]Charles
Hodge, “The General Assembly of 1838,” BRPR 10.3 (July, 1838) 457.
[115]Hodge,
“The General Assembly of 1838,” 458.
[116]The
details of these suits can be found in Samuel Miller, Jr., Report of the
Presbyterian Church Case (Philadelphia: William S. Martien, 1839).
[117]Hodge,
“The General Assembly of 1838,” 502.
[118]Minutes
(1839) 184. The adjective “distinguishing” is important. Old School
Presbyterians allowed for minor confessional differences.