EIGHT
“CONFIDENCE IN HIS BRETHREN”: THE ANTISLAVERY MOVEMENT
AND
THEOLOGICAL EDUCATION IN THE NORTHWEST, 1848-1859
In 1856 the editors of Virginia’s Central
Presbyterian claimed that the Old School had never formally endorsed
the act of 1818, which had condemned slavery, arguing that the 1845 statement
was the only official Old School position on slavery.[1] Together with the Synod of South Carolina’s formal
repudiation of the act of 1818, the increasingly proslavery rhetoric from the
south pushed many northwestern Old Schoolers towards a stronger anti-slavery
stance. By early 1857 Joseph G. Monfort, editor of the Presbyterian of the
West, engaged in a violent dispute over slavery with Nathan L. Rice of the St.
Louis Presbyterian.
Some feared that the radicalism of
the Presbyterian of the West would rend the church, but William Engles
assured his readers from Philadelphia that any agitation would be fruitless:
“Old-school Presbyterians . . . have too much good judgment and common sense to
entangle themselves in such unprofitable conflicts.”[2] Likewise, when the New School American
Presbyterian claimed that the Old School had a large and powerful
anti-slavery movement headed by Monfort and the New Albany Seminary faculty,
Engles replied that the northwestern men themselves had denied that “the
slavery question had any thing to do with that movement.”[3] As this chapter will show, Engles had been deceived.
But he reveals the basic confidence in the brethren that characterized the Old
School. Presbyterians expected that they could trust each other. As the church
grew, it was no longer possible to know all of the other ministers in the
denomination personally, placing mutual confidence and trust at a premium.
Since the northwestern men had said that slavery was not an issue, Engles
believed them.
Monfort’s Presbyterian of the
West, however, was a different matter. As he continued to agitate on
slavery throughout the summer of 1857, Engles needed to prove that the
northwest was not really a hotbed of antislavery sentiment. So he published a letter
from a minister in one of the largest presbyteries in Ohio claiming that “not one”
of the ministers of that presbytery “approves of the course of the Presbyterian
of the West, and all regret it exceedingly. But all love the good
old Presbyterian.” Another large presbytery in Ohio was also increasingly
dissatisfied with the Presbyterian of the West: “Some of them declare
that they will act no longer as agents for that paper, nor would they take it
themselves. I have long been a friend of the Presbyterian of the West,.
. . but I must drop it; it is becoming such an abolition fire-brand.” Praising
the Presbyterian as a major force in the formation of Old School
identity, the letter concluded that throughout that portion of Ohio, “We are all
satisfied with the Old-school Church as she is.”[4] The same week, J. D. M. wrote from the northwest that
while he rejoiced that he was not “immediately connected” with slavery, he
still had “confidence in our Southern brethren,” that they would deal properly
with the matter. He assured the Presbyterian’s readers that the
Northwestern Seminary directors and professors were not interested in
establishing an antislavery school, but a “school of the prophets” for the
Northwest.[5]
Nonetheless, the Presbyterian of
the West continued to insist that a real antislavery movement was
afoot in the northwest. In the light of the division of the Methodists,
Baptists, and now New School Presbyterians, Engles could only wonder why
Monfort desired schism: “Those churches which have entered into the fierce
contest, have as the result reaped the bitter fruits of dissension, division,
and decay.” Since the southern Presbyterian newspapers were content to leave
the matter alone, he encouraged the northern press to do the same. In a parting
jab, however, Engles pointed out that the Presbyterian continued to
maintain high subscription rates in the northwest, suggesting that the Presbyterian
of the West did not speak for the whole region.[6]
The discussion of slavery among Old
School Presbyterians in the northwest occurred largely in the context of their debates
about theological education. Or was it that their discussion of theological
education occurred largely in the context of their debates about slavery? While
Old School Presbyterians were generally convinced that the catholicity of the
church required them to work with each other across political and social
boundaries, they could not ignore matters of conscience. There were very few
abolitionists in the Old School churches of the northwest–and virtually none
that were proslavery–but the fact that almost all believed in gradual
emancipation did not reduce the tensions. All agreed that slavery was a great
evil, but there was a huge difference between saying that gradual emancipation
should start whenever the south was ready, and saying that it should start now.[7]
The future of the Old School would
not be determined by the south, but by the northwest. As the fastest-growing
region of the church, the northwest was growing in influence in the church
courts. But the definition of the northwest was changing. As late as 1840 the
northwest was defined by the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers–ensuring that Kentucky
and Missouri, though slave states, were still part of the region. By 1860,
however, the railroads and the creation of Chicago had altered the shape of the
west. For many, the Ohio River was now the border between the North and the South–and
Kentuckians increasingly looked to Tennessee and Missouri for support.[8]
1.
A Feud Begins (New Albany Seminary, 1848-1849)
As recounted in chapter six, the
Kentuckian Nathan Rice[9] had been instrumental at the General Assembly of 1845
in passing a resolution declaring that slaveholding was not in itself a sin. In
the Synod of Cincinnati Erasmus Darwin MacMaster was one of the leading
opponents of Rice’s statement. While only nine of the one hundred members at
the fall meeting of the 1845 Synod of Cincinnati voted to reject the General
Assembly statement Rice had authored, the two names that led the list were
Francis Monfort and Erasmus Darwin MacMaster.[10]
The following year Nathan Rice and
Samuel Ramsey Wilson became joint editors of Cincinnati’s Presbyterian of
the West, which meant that both western newspapers were edited by
Kentuckians.[11] While they allowed very little material on the
subject of slavery, Rice and Wilson declared their own position very plainly:
“We are opposed to slavery. . . But we are no less opposed to the unscriptural
and fanatical principles of ultra-abolitionists” who, they claimed, were
actually retarding the progress of emancipation.[12] Later that year they published a letter from E. N.
Sawtell who gave an account of how some southerners were preparing slaves for
freedom through the colonization societies. Rice and Wilson hoped that this
would prompt northerners to “aid the efforts of the south to remove from our
country this enormous evil.”[13]
In 1848, Rice and MacMaster were the
two finalists for the professorship of theology at New Albany Theological
Seminary in Indiana. New Albany was designed to be as attractive as possible to
the whole West–a seminary on the border between north and south, though on
northern soil, with professors from each section. In this manner, it was hoped
that the West could be held together.[14] The original faculty consisted of John Matthews
(1771-1848), a long-time pastor from Virginia (professor of theology, 1831-48),
and James Wood (1799-1867), a pastor from western New York who had carefully
documented the congregationalist origins of the Presbyterian churches in
western New York in the 1830s (professor of Biblical Criticism and Oriental
Literature, 1839-51).[15] The election of Rice would continue the tradition of
blending north and south in the seminary for the West, but a vote for MacMaster
would mean that both professors would be northerners. The board initially chose
Rice, but Rice was not convinced. He believed that New Albany was the wrong
location for a seminary, and wanted to see the seminary merged with Western
Seminary in Allegheny and moved to Cincinnati to provide a true Princeton of
the West. So instead the Board gave the job to MacMaster.
One might think that one who had
voted against the 1845 statement on slaveholding would be anathema in Kentucky,
but with such a redoubtable champion as R. J. Breckinridge,[16] MacMaster found his chief defenders in Kentucky.
Kentucky Presbyterians, after all, were among the leaders of the Kentucky
Emancipationists who were attempting to get emancipation written into the
state’s constitution that year. R. J.’s brother, William L. Breckinridge, wrote
a congratulatory letter to New Albany Seminary which was printed in the Presbyterian
Herald, assuring the Board that “a better day is about to rise on the
seminary.”[17] In fact the main opposition to MacMaster came from
Indiana, where he had previously served as president of Hanover College, and
had angered the majority of Indiana Presbyterians through a covert attempt to
close down their college and create a new institution, Madison University.
Nathan Rice published a letter of complaint from David Monfort of Indiana in
the Presbyterian of the West, which asserted that many who had
previously supported the Seminary could no longer “conscientiously cooperate
with it, under its present administration. . . . Almost all the young men
within the bounds of this Synod, who are now pursuing a Theological course of
study are at Princeton.”[18] Rice turned down another letter from Monfort’s
nephew, J. G. Monfort, who had been a trustee at Hanover College during the
Madison University debacle,[19] and for the most part, the Presbyterian of the
West maintained a watchful silence with respect to New Albany Seminary. But
plainly, slavery was not yet the defining issue in the northwest. At least for
Old School Presbyterians in 1848, the Ohio River was still the center of the
west–but not for long.
At first, it seemed indeed that a
kindly providence was smiling upon New Albany.[20] But as always, wherever MacMaster went, trouble was
sure to follow. The finances of the seminary, which had brightened briefly, did
not continue to improve. MacMaster had too many enemies. Indiana Presbyterians
still mistrusted him due to his leadership in the Madison University fiasco.
The Synod of Kentucky had raised a $20,000 endowment for the new professorship,
but rather than give the money to the seminary, they chose to keep it under
their control and simply use the interest to pay Daniel Stewart, plainly
signaling their distrust of the seminary, and suggesting to other
southwesterners that New Albany was not a permanent investment.[21] One prominent ruling elder in Kentucky politely stated
that there were many who could not support the election of MacMaster and
therefore could not provide financial support.[22] The Synod of Nashville decided to support the
seminary, but by an 1849 vote of 13-11 urged it to transfer to a more central
location (i.e., Kentucky).[23] At the same time, the number of students remained in
the low twenties. One writer in the Presbyterian Herald noted that
the synods nominally supporting New Albany Theological Seminary had 41 students
in Princeton, and another 29 in other seminaries, indicating that confidence in
NATS remained low.[24]
2.
The Establishment of the Cincinnati Theological Seminary (1849-1853)
At the same time, some Old School
Presbyterians were beginning to question the whole seminary system. Back in
1840 Robert J. Breckinridge, while pastoring in Baltimore, had suggested a
“radical reform” of the seminary system to provide three major seminaries under
the oversight of the General Assembly: one for the East, one for the South, and
one for the West. These seminaries would focus on the professional education of
ministers–not just their academic training. The present seminaries,
Breckinridge claimed, simply teach “our young men to recite , rather
than turning them out full of knowledge, thought, and force. . . . The old
method of private study with some sensible, pious, and laborious pastor, is. .
. much superior to these upstart seminaries.”[25] Breckinridge suggested that the decline of orthodoxy
in New England could be attributed, at least in part, to the apostasy of
Harvard, Yale and Andover Seminaries from orthodox Calvinism. He pointed out
that even Princeton had not stood firm against the New School at first.[26] Therefore, Breckinridge called on the church to elect
professors who were theologically orthodox and themselves eminent pastors and
fine preachers: “After looking over the long list of professors in the
theological seminaries of the United States, do you believe, gentlemen, that
the churches ought to be, or would be satisfied with preachers equal to the
bulk of these?. . . And we use the word preacher, because very many of
the professors never were pastors, and can of course, know nothing and
teach nothing practically, about that all important office.”[27] Breckinridge urged the Assembly to elect men like
Archibald Alexander and Samuel Miller–who had taught at Princeton since 1812
and 1813, respectively, though he reluctantly admitted that Charles Hodge had
been a good choice in spite of his lack of pastoral experience.
Throughout the 1840s little had been
done to implement Breckinridge’s ideas. In 1849, however, Nathan Rice thought
that the time had come. In August of 1848 Rice had reviewed Gardiner Spring’s The
Power of the Pulpit, suggesting that Spring was correct in attributing a
certain decline in power and effectiveness in the pulpit to the rise of
theological seminaries. Rice also agreed with Spring that the best remedy was
to pay more careful attention to the pastoral care of seminarians, and that the
best means toward that end was to elect successful pastors as professors in the
seminaries, and to orient the curriculum to training pastors who can preach
effective doctrinal and practical sermons.[28]
The following year Rice began an
independent seminary in Cincinnati. Since all the synods in the region were
pledged to support NATS, this was immediately interpreted as a factious attack
on the feeble seminary. “It is fraught with evil, and only evil,” a sorrowing
W. W. Hill wrote.[29] Rice quickly replied by setting forth his first
public accusation that Erasmus Darwin MacMaster had abolitionist
sympathies–plainly barring him, in Rice’s view, from any professorship in the
merged seminary. In the Synod of Cincinnati MacMaster had “warmly advocated in
that body, sentiments on the agitating subject of slavery, at war with the
doctrine stated by the General Assembly of 1845.” So long as MacMaster “held
views materially different from those held by the Presbyterian Church,” he
should not serve as a professor in a Presbyterian institution. Rice declared
the 1845 statement on slavery “one of the most important acts ever performed by
her, and as constituting her emphatically the bond of Union to these United
States. We deem it, therefore, of the first importance that our Professors of
Theology take the Scriptural view of this subject. If they do not, we shall
soon be again in trouble.[30]
Rice saw this as an opportunity to
show how a seminary should be operated, arguing that seminary professors should
be active pastors, which would require seminaries to be placed in densely
populated areas, to enable such a dual calling.[31] For the next several months the periodical press was
filled with commentary on Rice’s plan–though only his own paper supported it.[32] J. G. Monfort, still stung by MacMaster’s betrayal of
Hanover College, wrote that he still had hopes that MacMaster’s professorship
would fail, but that if Cincinnati Seminary could be “manned and moneyed, I
would say, go ahead.” Rice claimed that he received numerous letters from
throughout Indiana encouraging the Cincinnati Seminary.[33]
In April of 1850 the Presbytery of
Cincinnati supported the creation of the new seminary, with only two dissenting
votes.[34] But while Rice’s seminary received little
condemnation from the courts of the church, it also received little support.
Only the Synod of Cincinnati said anything favorable, but Cincinnati, as one of
the original three synods behind New Albany, was almost evenly divided between
the two seminaries.[35] In 1851 the synod gave a qualified endorsement,
voting 62-19 “rejoice in the measure of [its] success…and hope that…it may
prove eminently useful.”[36]
Cincinnati Theological Seminary did
not follow the Old School pattern for theological education. Indeed, it was not
lost on many critical observers that Cincinnati Seminary had some striking
resemblances to New School seminaries: lack of formal ecclesiastical oversight,
urban environment, emphasis on professors also serving as pastors,[37] and willingness to work together with
Congregationalists.[38] Rice even cited the flagship New School seminary,
Union in New York, as an example of a flourishing seminary in an urban
environment which reduced costs by having pastors teach (though he pointed out
that the more conservative Associate Reformed seminaries also followed the
latter practice).[39]
By the fall of 1852, Cincinnati
Theological Seminary had more students than New Albany, and was able to force a
compromise. Rice proposed that the Synod of Cincinnati recommend the transfer
of New Albany to the General Assembly. If the Assembly was given the authority
to elect new professors, then Rice was willing to close the Cincinnati Seminary
as well.[40] One by one, the seven synods with oversight over New
Albany (Cincinnati, Kentucky, Indiana, Northern Indiana, Illinois, Missouri and
Nashville) concurred. A Kentucky correspondent noted that the synods of
Illinois and Missouri had both urged the GA to move the seminary further west,
and pointed out that “there may be prejudices in various parts of the Church
against the Seminaries, both at New Albany and Cincinnati. The more independent
and free from these former differences, the better.”[41] By January of 1853 Rice gleefully announced that his
whole purpose in starting the seminary in Cincinnati was accomplished: the
General Assembly would take over theological education in the West.[42] He opposed those who wished to attempt to blend the
faculties of New Albany and Cincinnati, decrying any attention to parties or
factions within the church. “The men should be chosen, who, after prayerful
consideration, shall seem best qualified to fill the important offices--men of
well-balanced minds, of decided piety, and of undoubted soundness, and ability
to teach theology-to qualify young men for the ministry.” But given his role in
the affair, Rice emphatically insisted that he did not want to be considered.
He had other plans.
3.
A New Seminary for the West? (Danville Theological Seminary, 1853-1856)
Those plans were announced in
February of 1853 when Rice declared that he had taken a call to St. Louis.
Cincinnati was no longer the center of the West. There had been some effort by
Cyrus McCormick and others in Chicago to lure him northwards,[43] but Rice was convinced that the future of the West
remained along the Ohio River. Rice noted that the Presbyterian churches in St.
Louis were working together to “secure the location of the Seminary in St.
Louis, in accordance with the expressed wishes of the Synods of Illinois and
Missouri.”[44]
Rice’s sudden removal to St. Louis,
even before the end of the term at the Cincinnati Theological Seminary, caused
raised eyebrows in several quarters.[45] The sudden removal occurred because Rice had become
convinced that Cincinnati could not serve as the center of western
Christianity, and that therefore he would be more useful at the front lines—in
St. Louis. And since St. Louis was to be the future center of the West, where
else should a Presbyterian seminary be located?
On March 14, 1853, just before Rice
arrived in St. Louis, Missouri Presbyterians met in St. Louis to prepare their
case for the General Assembly. Their rationale fit nicely with Rice’s agenda.
The two leading figures in the meeting were ruling elders: the Honorable
Hamilton Gamble (presiding judge of the Missouri Supreme Court, and later
Governor of Missouri from 1861-1864) chaired the meeting and Charles D. Drake
(a prominent St. Louis lawyer) presented the paper which set forth their
rationale. The St. Louis vision was that the new seminary should be truly
western, and therefore should not conflict with Allegheny Seminary. A St. Louis
seminary would be located in the leading city of the West and would provide a
light upon the hill to curb the vice, infidelity and false religion that
endangered the future of the West. The urban environment would provide abundant
opportunities for student preaching, as well as the social benefits of a larger
city. Nonetheless, an astute Benjamin Gildersleeve (editor of the Watchman
and Observer) noted that if the General Assembly put the seminary in St.
Louis, New Albany would likely continue.[46]
Indeed, just before the General
Assembly met in May of 1853, the New Albany Seminary directors submitted to the
wishes of the overseeing synods and drew up a resolution handing over the
control of the seminary to the General Assembly—but with a new condition: the
seminary could not be moved from New Albany. The actions of the synods,
however, contained no such condition, and the General Assembly had little
interest in keeping the seminary in New Albany.
The question of a theological
seminary for the West was the prominent item on the General Assembly’s agenda
for 1853. The Assembly elected as moderator the Rev. Dr. John Young of Kentucky
(president of Centre College in Danville), who promptly appointed his friend
and long-time New Albany supporter, Robert J. Breckinridge (also of Kentucky)
as the chairman of the committee on seminaries. The committee examined the
various locations that had been proposed–St. Louis, New Albany, Nashville,
Tennessee, Peoria, Illinois, and Danville, Kentucky–and recommended that the
seminary be transferred to Danville.
Once on the floor of General
Assembly, Professor James Wood of New Albany was the first to speak. He pled
the seminary’s case for retaining the present location, but with little effect.
After several speeches supporting different locations, William L. and Robert J.
Breckinridge set forth the case for Danville, both because Kentucky was in the
best financial position to fund a seminary, and because the General Assembly
could show that the Mason-Dixon line did not determine the church’s politics.[47] Breckinridge claimed that Peoria was too little
known, and that Nashville was too close to Columbia Seminary in South Carolina.[48] St. Louis had made a liberal offer, but “in view of
the condition of the church in the State of Missouri, the efforts to found the
Seminary there would tend to paralyze the church in that State for some years.”
Although he had previously supported New Albany, he had become convinced that
after twenty-five years it was a “dead failure.” As the Richmond correspondent
said, “Dr. B spoke upon the question for more than two hours, the effort was a
powerful one, and the appeal in behalf of Danville was truly eloquent.” R. J.
Breckinridge analyzed the “history, present condition and prospects of the New
Albany Seminary. . . in a most ludicrous strain, which excited a considerable
degree of mirth in the Assembly.” He then turned to Danville and its
advantages, pointing to the considerable financial resources of the Synod
($60,000 had already been pledged by the Synod of Kentucky–including the
$20,000 theological fund that had previously been used to support a professor
at New Albany), as well as its central location for drawing upon both northern
and southern students and support.[49]
Several speakers attempted to
contradict this speech, but with little success. Dr. Wood refused to admit that
New Albany was a failure. Samuel B. McPheeters defended St. Louis, calling on
the Assembly to consider not merely the wants of 1853, but the future when St.
Louis would be the population center of the west. He urged that the city would
be the best place to learn human nature. But any hope for St. Louis was dashed
when Mr. Harbeson, a fellow Missourian defended Danville, by claiming that he
did not “believe in students studying human nature in large cities; they were
too apt to practise it.” But even as several advocates of St. Louis rose to
address the moderator, Judge John Fine of Ogdensburgh Presbytery called for the
previous question, and Danville prevailed 122-78-33 over St. Louis and New
Albany.[50]
Most observers expected that New
Albany Seminary would shut down, as ordered by the Assembly–but on July 7, the Presbyterian
of the West printed New Albany’s manifesto declaring their intent to
maintain the seminary. The Board claimed that the Synods had never specifically
authorized the transfer of the location of the seminary. Editor Thorpe was not
convinced. The Synods had plainly intended an unqualified transfer, allowing
the Assembly to do whatever it wished with New Albany. Nonetheless, Thorpe was
not wholly unsympathetic to the continuing seminary at New Albany. Many
understood that many northern students would not cross the Ohio River for
theological training, and they were willing to encourage New Albany to continue
in order to provide seminary education for them.[51]
On the other hand, the Presbyterian
of the West feared that the Danville arrangement would not work. Since New
Albany was still in operation (with the support of the majorities of the
Cincinnati, Indiana, and Northern Indiana synods), and the far western synods
of Illinois and Missouri were upset that the new seminary was so far east, Thorpe
and other contributors to the Presbyterian of the West feared that the
new seminary would find little support.[52] Just because the Assembly had placed the seminary in
Kentucky didn’t mean that northwesterners had to support it! “Hence the demand
which Dr. Young and others of the South make upon us of implicit obedience to
the act of the Assembly, because it is the act of the Assembly, is
anti-Presbyterian and cannot be allowed.”[53] Therefore, many concluded, Danville would be the
seminary for the southwest, leaving New Albany free to continue in the
northwest.[54]
In October MacMaster and the New
Albany directors issued a pamphlet defending their actions against what they
considered a Kentucky conspiracy. MacMaster claimed that Robert J. Breckinridge
had orchestrated the whole affair. Why was it that Young organized the
committee on seminaries “to include no man from all the Northwest, and no man
friendly to the New Albany Seminary, while two, including the Chairman, are
taken from the vicinity of Danville”? Further, MacMaster claimed that
Breckinridge, as chairman, had suppressed and misrepresented the claims of New
Albany, then Young, as moderator, had prevented the defenders of New Albany
from gaining the floor of the Assembly, and then finally Breckinridge was rewarded
for his machinations by being elected professor of theology in the new
institution! New Albany, MacMaster argued, was under no obligation whatsoever
to disband.[55]
Young replied in a tone of mock
sympathy, suggesting that MacMaster should not be held responsible for his
false charges, due to “his pedantry, arrogance, and other mental infirmities. .
. . We attribute his moral aberrations, in part, to something peculiar in the structure
of his mind--and for this, Christian charity ought to make allowance.” After
refuting the conspiracy charge, Young gave MacMaster a parting jab: “He has
presided over three colleges and a Theological Seminary. All of them have,
unfortunately, sunk under his administration; and many of the friends of these
various institutions have charged him with being the cause of their ruin.”
Young’s point was clear: so long as New Albany stood by MacMaster, Kentucky
would have nothing to do with it.[56]
Not surprisingly, the General
Assembly of 1854 urged the two seminaries to refrain from interfering with each
other.[57] After further debate, Rev. McClung offered a
resolution of non-interference. After defending the need for a northwestern
seminary, he insisted that abolition was no threat: “When any body brings up
abolition in their Synod, they say to him, just show us where Paul turned any
body out of the Church for being a slaveholder, and we will turn any
Presbyterian out that holds slaves; and then we clap down the trap-door of the
previous question upon him. (Laughter).” Using humor to try to defuse a tense
situation, he referred to Breckinridge as the barber of the Old School, “New
Albany came in his way last year, and I thought when he was done with it, it
was the cleanest shaved thing I ever saw (Laughter).” “General Assembly,” Presbyterian
24.22 (June 3, 1854) 85. But even the promise to
leave New Albany alone gave little comfort to the seminary’s supporters. From
1853 until 1857, a total of 33 students attended New Albany (mostly born in
Ohio and Indiana, and educated at Hanover and Miami). Therefore, not only did
Danville draw away the entire southwest (not a single southwesterner attended
New Albany during these years), but they also drew half as many northwesterners
as New Albany (15 graduates from Hanover and Miami attended Danville from
1853-1857).[58]
Danville’s attempt to reach out to
the southwest, however, was challenged by Columbia Theological Seminary. While
Columbia was formally under the oversight of the synods of South Carolina and
Georgia, it trained many students from Alabama and Mississippi as well. In 1857
Columbia sought to establish a formal relationship with the Synod of
Mississippi. The Presbyterian Banner and Advocate of Pittsburgh reported
that James Henley Thornwell had presented the case for Columbia “with all his
admitted eloquence and his equally well known opposition to the General
Assembly.” E. T. Baird responded in favor of Danville, “urging its claims upon
the Synod, and forcibly presenting the argument in favor of the Assembly’s
control in the case of theological institutions.” When the Synod declined the
partnership with Columbia, editor David McKinney rejoiced that “this adherence
of the Synod of Mississippi to the Assembly, is an indication that sectionalism
is not wholly to triumph at the South.”[59] The Southern Presbyterian protested that this
placed both Columbia and Dr. Thornwell in a “false light,” by suggesting that
Thornwell was “habitually, and on principle, opposed to the General Assembly.”
The editor, H. B. Cunningham, insisted that Thornwell was entirely within his
rights to believe that theological education should be conducted at the
synodical level. As for the charge of being sectional, the only sectionalism
was a question of the south versus the west (not the south versus the General
Assembly). Columbia Seminary, he insisted, was only arguing that Mississippi
was more naturally connected to South Carolina than to Kentucky. And as for
McKinney’s insinuation that Columbia Seminary was opposed to the Assembly’s
stance on slavery, he insisted that “Even on the vexed question of the day, ecclesiastically
considered, it teaches nothing at variance with what we understand to be the
position of the church.”[60]
The New Albany men, however, were
not convinced that Columbia understood the position of the church correctly,
but they had few resources to communicate their concerns. Their seminary was
poorly attended and supported, and since the failure of the Christian
Monthly Magazine in 1845, they had no forum for communication. Therefore in
the fall of 1854, the Presbytery of New Albany resolved to support a new weekly
paper for the northwest. Since the west already had three newspapers (the Presbyterian
Herald of Louisville–right across the Ohio River from New Albany–the Presbyterian
of the West in Cincinnati, and the St. Louis Presbyterian), Nathan
Rice found it preposterous that New Albany Presbytery would seek to create yet
another. “Local interests and prejudices have done and are doing
more to cripple the energies of the Presbyterian Church in the West, than all other
causes. It has been impossible to secure union either in building up
institutions or in sustaining newspapers. This is the more remarkable, since
there exist amongst us no theological differences.”[61] As far as Rice was concerned, this growing
anti-slavery subculture was a threat to the peace of both the church and the
nation.
But rather than start a new paper
for the northwest, the New Albany men set their sights on taking control of the
one western paper north of the Ohio River. While students and funding remained
hard to find, New Albany finally gained a new friend in 1854 with the buyout of
the Presbyterian of the West. Whereas the editorial staff in 1853, under
the influence of Nathan Rice, had signed a protest at synod against the
continuing existence of New Albany, by the end of 1854 the Presbyterian of
the West had passed into the hands of the Rev. Joseph G. Monfort, who was
rapidly becoming the leading voice of the pro-New Albany wing of the northwest.[62]
In many respects, Monfort’s
friendship with New Albany was surprising. He had joined the opposition to
MacMaster after the Hanover College debacle, and had been one of the leading
voices in opposing MacMaster’s election to New Albany Seminary just six years
before. Now, however, Monfort found in MacMaster a kindred spirit. Over the
next decade Monfort would take on virtually every Old School newspaper in the
country in his vigorous (and sometimes vituperative) defense of MacMaster and
the principles of the new Northwest. Old controversies were set aside as the
anti-slavery cause brought them together.
But even with Monfort’s support,
nothing could preserve New Albany as the location for the seminary of the
Northwest. For one thing, it was too close to Danville Seminary; for another,
it was simply too close to Kentucky. The old ideal of a seminary for the whole
west that would unite North and South on northern soil was gone. The old
Northwest, of which the Ohio River formed the center–was giving way to the new
Northwest, of which the Ohio River formed its southern boundary.
Indicative of this change was the
addition of Dr. Thomas E. Thomas to the faculty of New Albany also in 1854. In
southern eyes, Thomas (the former editor of the short-lived anti-slavery Christian
Monthly Magazine) was “a conspicuous leader of the Abolition party in
Ohio.” The Southern Presbyterian feared that with his addition, the “New
Albany Seminary may become an engine for the propagation of Abolitionism in the
Northwest. Dr. McMaster, another Professor, is not free from the suspicion of a
similar taint.”[63] But just as southern writers moved toward a more open
pro-slavery stance as the 1850s progressed, so also northwestern writers became
more openly anti-slavery.
4.
J. G. Monfort, the Presbyterian of the West and the Rise of a Vocal
Anti-Slavery Movement in the Northwest
The label of “abolitionist” was not
strictly accurate for Thomas, Monfort, or MacMaster. Most anti-slavery Old
Schoolers were still hoping that their southern brethren would find a way to
end slavery. As southern Presbyterians began to suggest that slavery was a
positive good, some northern emancipationists attempted to hold fast to the
1818 deliverance, but with greater emphasis on the conditional aspect of that
statement: slaveholding was not sinful–so long as the slaveholder was preparing
his slaves for their eventual status as freemen. They could agree with the
Assembly’s distinction between the definite evil of slavery and the moral
ambiguity of slaveholding–but the Assembly’s refusal to push southerners toward
emancipation frustrated them.
By the end of Rice’s editorship in
1853, some anti-slavery material was appearing in the Presbyterian of the
West. The Rev. Hugh S. Fullerton, pastor of Chillicothe Presbytery’s Salem
Church[64] wrote a defense of Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Rice had
scorned Harriet Beecher Stowe’s best-seller as a novel (and in some Old School
circles the genre itself was enough to condemn it as worthless without paying
attention to its content) that avoided the real evils of slavery and simply
sought to raise the passions of northerners. Fullerton argued that the book
focused precisely on the real evil: that slavery was a “horrible despotism.”
Praising Rice for belaboring “the Catholics most manfully because they are
despotic in their principles,” Fullerton asked, “what warrant have you in the
word of God for opposing one kind of despotism more than another?” If Stowe had
attacked slavery in the wrong way, Fullerton asked, “O! that my brother Rice
would attack it in the right way and show us how!” The reason why abolitionism
has become infidel is because the “American church as a body has set herself
against the movement.” The anti-slavery movement has tried to overthrow
domestic despotism “by proclaiming those simple truths set forth in the
American declaration of Independence, and showing that those truths are
consistent with the word of God.” Unless the church gets on board with this
position, “slavery and infidelity will continue to fatten and grow.”[65]
Under Monfort, the Presbyterian
of the West regularly published anti-slavery material, becoming the first
weekly Old School newspaper to attack the conservative stance of the church.
Monfort, though, was no radical abolitionist, and opposed the division of the
church. When the Christian church and the Illinois Methodists divided in 1855,
he warned Old School Presbyterians against divisive tactics.[66] Nonetheless, when Robert J. Breckinridge attacked
Senator Charles Sumner’s speeches on Kansas, Monfort argued that the
redoubtable Kentuckian had misunderstood Sumner’s approach. The free soil
movement would let the south end slavery by itself–but would resolutely oppose
introducing it to the territories. Monfort was troubled that “the conservative party
in the South is constantly growing less. Men who have labored for emancipation
are yielding to the clamors of proslavery men in favor of the extension of
slavery.”[67] The following summer, after the caning of Charles
Sumner by Preston Brooks, Monfort published a letter from the “pastor of the
largest church in our connection in the Free States of the North-west,” and
suggested that this represented the unanimous opinion of northwestern
ministers. “L” blamed the north for the caning of Sumner: “How much of the
guilt and disgrace of this state of things attaches to men who call themselves
anti-slavery, but conservatives, who profess to be opposed to
slavery, but yet keep their mouths shut on the question, or open them only to censure
the defenders of liberty.” The Kansas disasters as well should be “traced to
the silent, speechless acquiescence of thousands of professing Christians who
through fear of man, prejudice, or wilful ignorance, have lent their influence
in this way to swell the catalogue of enormity and crime!” Slavery must be
“confined as a local institution to its own limits,” or else the nation would
be judged by God.[68]
Frustrated that so few Old School
papers would speak on the Kansas question, Monfort continued to urge
Presbyterians to work for a free soil Kansas, and frequently asked his fellow
editors why they remained silent on the moral issues surrounding Kansas. If
emancipation was a moral question–and Old School papers from Philadelphia to
Louisville regularly urged that–why not free soil in Kansas?[69] That fall, when Governor Adams of South Carolina
publicly endorsed the reopening of the slave trade, Monfort howled with horror
and outrage.[70] Whereas most Old School editors refrained from political
commentary almost entirely, Monfort declared only that “we shall not meddle
with politics, except when politics shall meddle with us. Upon all subjects
bearing upon morals and religion, in Church or State, we will utter our
sentiments freely, and we hope prudently, yet none the less fearlessly and
independently.”[71]
With bleeding Kansas and the South
Carolina discussion of reopening the slave trade in the background, Monfort
printed Erasmus Darwin MacMaster’s remarks on slavery at the Miami University
literary society: “On slavery, where it already exists, I have seldom publicly
spoken or written. . . I have been inclined to be still before God, and
patient. . . . Second, because not living among a slaveholding people, I have
thought it less my vocation to discuss this subject than evils existing among
ourselves.” While generally willing to let southerners work out their own
difficulties regarding the elimination of slavery in the South, MacMaster
insisted that northerners should speak plainly against the extension of slavery
to the territories.[72]
In 1857 Monfort set forth his
argument for how the statements on slavery in 1845 and 1818 could be held
together. The testimonies of 1787, 1815 and 1818 declare that slavery “is
sinful; it can not exist without sin. There is always guilt somewhere, when any
one is held under the oppressions and exposures of slavery.” But 1845 does not
contradict this. Monfort pointed out that “there is not a word in approbation
of slavery to be found it it.” It simply states that slaveholding in the south
does not bar one from membership. “Our church does not think, and we do not
think that every slaveholder should be excommunicated.” If 1845 is understood
in harmony with 1818 (as he suggested that the statement of 1846 required, when
it reaffirmed all previous General Assembly statements on slavery), then “in
every instance of slavery humanity is outraged, and God's law violated, but men
are often so connected with the system, that the guilt of oppression does not
rest on them but on others--individual or the commonwealth.” Therefore so long
as slaveholders are working towards emancipation, they should not be
disciplined.[73]
But even Monfort was considered too
soft by some in the Northwest. Veritas wrote that the action of 1845 “is
essentially defective on the general subject, and utterly destitute
of the decided Anti-slavery tone, style, terms, spirit and aim of
the former testimonies of 1787 and 1818.” Its declaration that slaveholding was
not sinful retained none of the qualifications of earlier statements. The 1818
statement had called on all Presbyterians to work for the end of slavery. The
1845 statement politely avoided the issue. For Veritas, the very fact that the
1846 General Assembly felt compelled to say that 1845 was not intended to
revoke 1818 reveals that it in fact did.[74]
Hugh S. Fullerton agreed. “The
injunction of our Assembly urging us to do all we can for the abolition of
slavery, is now practically, a dead letter.” Troubled that the Old School had
lost fellowship with the Congregational churches over slavery, he pointed out
that the only northern church they had fellowship with was the “Reformed Dutch.
. . a body as frigidly conservative on the slave question as we are ourselves.”
Eschewing radical abolitionism, he agreed that the church could not cut off all
slaveholders, because this would be “ultra, unscriptural, and absurd.” But
Fullerton suggested that if the New School purged itself of slavery, “we
will think it our duty to seek great comfort and usefulness for ourselves and
people, by taking our stand with them.”[75]
Fullerton argued that if southerners
wanted to change slave laws, they would have by now. He prided himself on being
the first to petition the Ohio legislature “for the repeal of our black school
laws,” which had forbidden blacks to attend the common schools. His initial
petition had been rejected, but over several years, “that unjust law, and many
others of the same kind, were repealed. And now colored people have their free
schools all over the state, supported from the public treasury, just as other
schools are supported, and under the supervision of the same directors.” The
continued existence of slavery in the South could only mean that Christians
wanted it to continue. And if this was the case, then according to the 1818
statement on slavery, then “in every case of slaveholding in our Church there
ought to be a judicial investigation, just as there should be and would be in
every case of drunkenness.” If forced to hold slaves, slaveholders should be
viewed as innocent–otherwise, Fullerton argued, they should be disciplined.[76]
Monfort replied that while the South
was indeed growing worse, he was optimistic regarding the future of
anti-slavery in the northern Old School. Further, he suggested that Fullerton
did not adequately distinguish between slavery and slaveholding. The former is
a sin, the latter not necessarily. “We can not censure all slaveholders.”[77] Clericus agreed, insisting that “slavery” did not
exist in the church, only slaveholders.[78] Further, he hesitated to presume guilt. Given that
the southerners had voted for the statements of 1818 and generally agreed with
the harmonization of 1846, Monfort insisted that northerners were bound to
assume that southern Old School Presbyterians “do not approve slavery, that
they are not slaveholders by choice, and we must accept the burden of proving
the contrary, in every case in which we would exclude them from the Church.”[79]
That fall, as Armstrong and Van
Rensselaer began their debate in the Presbyterian Magazine, the
presbyteries of Wooster, Marion, and Richland joined Chillicothe in strong
anti-slavery statements. When the Presbyterian called them
abolitionists, Monfort objected–pointing out that none of these three
presbyteries called for the discipline of all slaveholders. Instead, Monfort
argued that the northwest was reacting against the southerners’ retreat from
the historic testimony of the church–and now, he feared, among northerners,
too.[80]
As evidence for the apostasy of the
south, Monfort published an article by a member of the 1818 General Assembly,
who had served in the South for more than forty years. This elder statesman had
tried to get his article published in the Southern Presbyterian Review,
but it was refused without comment. He argued that the testimony of the
previous sixty years made it clear that the Presbyterian church says that
African servitude, as
practised among us, is a grievous wrong; that it is depriving man of his natural
and inalienable rights; that it is contrary to the spirit of the gospel;
altogether inconsistent with the law of loving our neighbor as ourself, and
wholly irreconcilable with the rule of doing as we would be done by; and the
Church urges and enjoins it upon all in her communion to use all prudent and
proper means for putting an end to Slavery and promoting its abolition
throughout America and the world.
The
author, undoubtedly Aaron Leland of Columbia Theological Seminary, the only
living southerner who had been a member of the 1818 General Assembly, pointed
to previous articles where the editors of the Southern Presbyterian Review
had denied that liberty is the natural and inalienable right of man, and he
claimed that the south was clashing directly with the plain testimony of the
General Assembly. Arguing that Christ had laid down “great moral, practical
principles by which all his people must be governed,” he insisted that slavery
fundamentally contradicted those principles.[81]
Such articles continued to encourage
northwesterners to think that perhaps a silent majority in the south only
awaited assistance from the north to throw off the domination of slavery. James
S. Fullerton, wrote from Mount Vernon, Iowa, to encourage speedy action.
Complaining of little progress towards the abolition of slavery in the forty
years since 1818, Fullerton suggested that the General Assembly should “fix
upon some set time, (say January 1864 or 5) on or before which, this work must
be accomplished (at least as far as the Church is concerned). If some of our
members are too poor to place their slaves beyond the reach of slave laws, let
the Church be called upon to raise the funds needed for this purpose, and we
hot bloods will be silent.” Denying that General Assembly utterances bound the
church, Fullerton openly rejected the statement of 1845.[82]
Monfort resisted such a stance: if
northerners rejected 1845, then southerners could reject 1818 with impunity. In
fact, within weeks of Fullerton’s article, the New Orleans’ True Witness
argued that the 1818 statement “was taken before the question of slavery was
properly understood, and at a time when the views there expressed were the
sentiments of the country, generally, North and South.” But, as Richmond
McInnis argued, “the Old School Presbyterian Church has never reindorsed the
action of 1818, and no man, with proper views and feelings, seeing to know the
mind of our Church, would ever make this charge. . . . Whatever may be the
general language of 1846, it is evident from the above facts that the action of
1818 was never reindorsed by the Old School General Assembly.”[83] With both sides moving quickly in opposing
directions, the future looked bleak for conservatives who wished to hold the church
and nation together.
5.
The Synodical Northwestern Theological Seminary (1856-1859)
Meanwhile, Nathan Rice, now pastor
of the Central Presbyterian Church in St. Louis and editor of the St. Louis
Presbyterian, kept trying to pacify the West through his conservative
anti-slavery stance. Commenting on eastern abolitionist efforts, Rice suggested
that most eastern battles were fought where slavery “does not exist, and
amongst a people who can do nothing whatever to abolish it.”[84] After a four-month trip to New York City and New
England to attend the General Assembly of 1856 and the Rhode Island Evangelical
Consociation,[85] Rice reported to his St. Louis readers that while
“the great mass of the people” were simply going about their own business,
“there is, in every part of the country, excitement enough to call forth
demagogues, whose only chance to become famous, is to ride into office upon
some hobby.”[86] Nonetheless, Rice took heart from the stand of Old
School editors. The Central Presbyterian had written against mob law,
and the Presbyterian of the West warned against division. “Whilst
Presbyterian ministers have never degraded their sacred office by meddling in
party politics, they have ever been found ready to speak out boldly, when the
evil passions of men have brought the country into peril.”[87] With the election of the Democrat James Buchanan in
1856, Rice jubilantly declared that “the crisis has passed.”[88] Little did he know that while the national crisis may
have passed, an ecclesiastical one was about to explode.
In the fall of 1856 MacMaster,
Monfort, and the seminary board announced their intention to move the New
Albany seminary to Chicago. MacMaster’s pamphlet pointed out that the northwest
alone was nine times the size of Scotland, contained around five million
inhabitants, but had only 285 ministers for its 464 churches. With fully
one-third of northwestern pulpits vacant, the need for ministers was desperate.[89] The New Albany campus would shut down temporarily in
the spring of 1857 until the seminary reopened in Chicago.[90] A new board was organized to include all the
interested synods of the northwest, but the exclusion of Missouri (which had
formerly been one of New Albany’s controlling synods–although it had not sent
anyone to board meetings since 1853) led to a howl of protest from Rice’s St.
Louis Presbyterian.[91] “Dr. McMasters, we learn, stated to the Synod of
Illinois, that the Synod of Missouri had taken such a position in relation to
the Seminary, that it would not have been ‘decent’ to ask its
co-operation.” But, Rice complained, Missouri was one of the seven synods
united in control, and contributed more to its funds than either of the
northwestern synods (likely a reference to Iowa and Wisconsin). While it
neglected to appoint directors (as did the Synod of Illinois) it had not given
up the right to do so. The Synod had never identified with another seminary but
desired to remain in connection with the Northwestern synods. While it is true
that the Synod of Missouri had never formally renounced its control, it had passed
a resolution questioning the continuation of the seminary after the creation of
Danville Seminary, which Monfort interpreted as a hostile gesture.[92] At the Board meeting in November, the Rev. Samuel J.
Baird (a New Albany graduate, pastoring in Muscatine, Iowa) recommended that
the new board of the North West Theological Seminary allow the Missouri
presbyteries to send representatives, but Monfort’s objections prevailed.[93] In the eyes of MacMaster and Monfort, Missouri was no
more a part of the northwest than Kentucky.
Therefore, when Monfort began
publishing regular anti-slavery statements in the Presbyterian of the West
the following year, Rice turned his attention to his former newspaper. He
feared that Monfort’s defense was “far more injurious than the charge he
repels,” in that it cast doubt on the meaning of the 1845 statement that Rice
had so carefully crafted. After defending the 1845 statement, and its
consistency with the 1818 declaration, he concluded that “Every one can see,
that if the views expressed by Dr. M were to prevail, a renewed agitation would
be the inevitable result.” Connecting the anti-slavery discussion with the
seminary debates, Rice added that “We feel the more bound to say what we have
said because this discussion in the Pres. of the West, stands evidently
in close connection with the plan by which the Synod of Missouri has been
tricked out of its rights.”[94] Arguing that Monfort was a closet abolitionist, Rice
pointed out that Monfort defined slavery as “a heinous and scandalous sin,
calling for the discipline of the church upon any of her members who
are really chargeable with its guilt.” Ignoring Monfort’s distinction
between slavery and slaveholding, Rice feared that Monfort, MacMaster, and
Thomas E. Thomas were intent on turning the Northwestern Theological Seminary
into “a thoroughly Abolitionist Seminary,” to “train young men to become
agitators and destroyers of the peace of the Church. Let those who love the
peace and unity of the Presbyterian Church, at once throw their decided
influence against this unhallowed attempt to divide its counsels and destroy
its efficiency.”[95]
Throughout the spring and summer of
1857 the skirmishes continued between Monfort and Rice. Monfort argued that
MacMaster and Thomas had both affirmed the General Assembly’s statements and
should not be considered abolitionists. In reply Rice pointed out that Thomas
had written in his Review of Junkin, that professed Christians “who
hold their fellow-men as slaves,” were “guilty of a sin which demands
the cognizance of the Church; and after due admonition, the application of
discipline.”[96]
But Rice’s polemics had not yet
persuaded the rest of the church. In the east, Presbyterians generally joined
Cortlandt Van Rensselaer (editor of the Presbyterian Magazine, and
moderator of the General Assembly of 1857) in applauding the decision to move
the seminary to Chicago. While Van Rensselaer wished that they had corresponded
with Missouri to ensure harmony, and objected to the eagerness of “some of the
Western brethren” for a new deliverance on slavery, he did not see “any proof
that our respected brethren of the new Seminary have any desire to introduce on
our records a contrary testimony.”[97] At this point, most in the east and south were
willing to believe the best concerning MacMaster and attributed Rice’s antics
to their personal quarrel.
As evidence of this, Van Rensselaer
published an open letter from an anonymous western ruling elder assuring the
church that the seminary posed no threat. The elder urged the advantages of
synodical control, arguing that General Assembly decisions were unduly
engineered by a small circle of influential figures. Under the synodical
system, even the smallest presbytery in the west would be represented on the
board of the seminary. Further, the controlling synods would have personal
knowledge of the students that the General Assembly never could. The objections
to synodical control, this elder asserted, were really directed against
professors MacMaster and Thomas and their “abstract views of slavery.” But have
the seventy alumni of New Albany Seminary turned out as agitators of the church
on the subject of slavery? And even if the seminary were overtly anti-slavery,
the professors of Columbia Theological Seminary in South Carolina had
articulated a new “philosophy of human society” promoting slavery (Thornwell)
and condemning colonization (Adger). If a synodically-controlled seminary could
have pro-slavery professors, in spite of the 1818 testimony against slavery,
why could not the church tolerate a synodically-controlled seminary with
anti-slavery professors? The elder concluded by pleading for mutual confidence
in the brethren, in spite of political differences:
As in the political union
between the States, the strength of the bond consists much in the lightness
with which it bears upon the distant parts, and the amount of freedom it allows
for the maintenance of local policy and opinion, so is the Church safe, and
strong in the affections of her children every where, as she shall refrain from
imposing, by direct or indirect means, any iron rule upon our modes of thought
and expression, on questions not involving sin, nor tending to a departure from
vital truth. Only while the Church is content with the great doctrines of her
time-honored confession and catechisms, and her principles of government, as
the chief bond of union, can she expect to embrace harmoniously, the
Presbyterians in every section of this vast country, under one General
Assembly.[98]
Once
again, but this time from the “radical” wing, Old School Presbyterians revealed
their fervent desire for the preservation of a single orthodoxy in the face of
multiple visions of how that orthodoxy would be embedded in regional cultures.
The Louisville Presbyterian
Herald (still edited by Rev. W. W. Hill) feared that these multiple visions
could not withstand such “exciting issues.”[99] Hill noted that New School journals, such as the American
Presbyterian, were claiming that a powerful body of anti-slavery Old
Schoolers in the northwest were uniting behind the Presbyterian of the West
and the new North West Theological Seminary. But he dismissed this report,
suggesting that Monfort’s paper had little support and citing Rice’s St.
Louis Presbyterian assurance that the seminary, “whatever may have been the
purposes of a few individuals, whenever it goes into operation,” would not be
“an abolitionist institution.” In the same issue, he noted that Rice had
been called to the North Presbyterian Church in Chicago–which would be a good
thing for the church in the northwest and especially for the infant seminary![100]
Six weeks later, Presbyterian
newspaper readers learned that the North West Board had received a letter from
MacMaster defending himself from accusations regarding his views of slavery.
The charge that he desired the seminary to be an anti-slavery institution was
preposterous. “Slavery may have been thought of along with many other things,
but the story that the Seminary was designed to be an agency specially for the
agitation or discussion of slavery is so absurd that those who told it must
have counted largely on the credulity of their hearers.” The seminary should
have no relation to slavery
different from those which it
has to twenty or forty other acknowledged evils of like character and magnitude,
and to which the church and the country of the North West stand in a like
relation as to slavery. It certainly is not the business of a theological
seminary to organize agencies and institute measures for the removal of
slavery, or of any other evil, moral, or political, or ecclesiastical, or
domestic, existing in society, but to teach young men how to expound and apply
the Scriptures, and to fulfill the work of a gospel ministry.[101]
The
Board hoped that this statement would suffice to allay concerns and restore
harmony in the northwest.
At the same meeting the Board
elected both Rice and MacMaster to the faculty of the seminary. The
minutes were published in several papers, revealing that of the 18 board
members present, only 11 had voted for Rice (all the members from the older
synods of Cincinnati, Indiana, and Northern Indiana; seven of the eight members
from Illinois, Wisconsin, Chicago and Iowa did not vote). Monfort had
engineered the election of Rice as professor of ecclesiastical history in hope
of reaching a compromise to permit the seminary to go forward. Likewise, to
boost confidence in the proposed seminary, the Board passed resolutions
allowing General Assembly vetoes on Board decisions.[102] Two weeks later the Presbyterian Herald
published a letter from a correspondent urging Rice to accept the call to North
Church, Chicago (revealing that Rice would receive a salary of $5,000–including
$2,000 from a single, unnamed individual).[103]
Rice replied first to the seminary.
He professed astonishment at his election, given his criticisms of the
enterprise. The editor of the Presbyterian of the West (Monfort) had charged
him as an enemy of the seminary, a sizeable minority of the Board had not
concurred with his election, and the Board still refused to accept complete
General Assembly control. Rice felt constrained to decline. The church, he
believed, should not “try to plaster over” divisions, but should find any
errors and correct them. In particular, MacMaster’s letter to the board was too
ambiguous for Rice, and he hinted of evidence that MacMaster privately believed
the General Assembly to be controlled by slavery. A seminary professor, he
declared, must not have any private agendas or else he will lose the confidence
of the church. Since the seminary could raise no money for a whole year, Rice
was convinced that only General Assembly oversight could restore that confidence.[104]
Shortly thereafter he accepted the
call to North Presbyterian Church in Chicago. A decade after he had first tried
to persuade Rice to go to Chicago, Cyrus Hall McCormick (now the leading
businessman and a prominent ruling elder in Chicago) had succeeded. Four years
earlier, Rice had gone to St. Louis in an attempt to draw the western seminary
to that location. Now he belatedly realized that Chicago held the future of the
west and hoped that it was not too late for his presence in Chicago to sway the
city toward a more conservative stance.[105]
Any hope of reopening the seminary
in 1857 was dashed. With the panic of 1857 tightening many pockets and concerns
over the position of the proposed seminary, no one would contribute any
significant amount of money. And any hope of reopening in 1858 was soon quashed
as well.
Rice’s declension of the
professorship had referred in passing to “private letters” containing
MacMaster’s “true” views of slavery. MacMaster, who had studiously avoided
engaging Rice in any personal controversy, published “A Card” complaining that
“for nine years that individual has been allowed to print and publish, in his
newspaper, and to utter otherwise about me, whatever he supposed would serve
his own ends, without any notice from me; nor do I now make any reply to him.” This
card declared that if Rice had obtained such a letter “in violation of an
obligation which all honourable men instinctively feel to be imperatively
binding upon them,” MacMaster would now exempt him from the obligation to
respect private letters, and give “full liberty to publish any private letter
or letters, which I have written to him, or to them, or to any one of them,
concerning the affairs of the Seminary,” but only so long as he would publish
the whole letter–not just excerpts.[106]
Rice, in transit to Chicago, was not
editing a newspaper at that moment, so he published the letters in a lengthy
pamphlet, defending his course over the previous eight years, claiming that
Monfort’s continued harassment had forced his hand. Reciting his old
grievances, he claimed that MacMaster’s views of slavery were “unscriptural,
and tending to agitation, and division of the Church.”[107] At the Synod of Cincinnati in 1845, MacMaster had
allied himself with Thomas E. Thomas, a self-proclaimed abolitionist, and then
welcomed Thomas onto the faculty of New Albany Seminary in 1854. “And is it
surprising that I should be unwilling to have a professor of theology in our
Seminary, who, as I believed, aimed to introduce, however cautiously and
slowly, new terms of membership, which would divide our church, as it has
divided others?”[108] Denying any personal quarrel, Rice insisted that he
opposed MacMaster’s professorship simply and solely for ecclesiastical reasons.
Further, Rice pointed out that it
was Monfort–not himself–who had raised the connection between the seminary and
slavery by combining a defense of MacMaster with an attack on the 1845
resolution on slavery in the Presbyterian of the West. “It was
impossible to resist the conviction that the synod of Missouri had been
excluded, simply because it was a slaveholding state, and that it was the
design of the Professors elect to make the Seminary a place for inculcating
views of slavery which would distract and divide the church; and then it was
that attention was publicly called to this phase of things.”[109]
But it was only after arriving in
Chicago that Rice found that his suspicions were warranted by hard evidence.
Ruling elder Charles A. Spring (1800-189?) of Chicago had been a warm supporter
of MacMaster and an avid reader of Monfort’s Presbyterian of the West.[110] Until recently, he had viewed Rice as actuated by a
“bitter uncompromising spirit.” A director of the new seminary, he had been
chosen as agent of the board for 1857 to raise funds in the northwest. In May
and July of 1857 he had received two letters from MacMaster encouraging him in
his task, but the content of these two letters had wrought a complete
revolution in his views. Now he came to Rice with these letters, which he
claimed were not confidential, but public letters from a professor to a
director of the seminary regarding matters of public interest.[111]
The first letter accused the
“hierarchs” of the southern wing of the church (he named Thornwell, Adger,
Armstrong, Smiley and Stuart Robinson) of abandoning the traditional
Presbyterian doctrine that slavery “is a great evil” and should prudently be
brought to an end. The new doctrine claimed that slavery was a great good and
should be perpetuated–purged merely of its worst abuses. So far, MacMaster had
said nothing that would raise eyebrows. But he wasn’t finished:
This doctrine has been openly
and zealously inculcated at the south for ten years past; and now, the way
being prepared south and north, the slave drivers are determined, with
an iron rod over our heads, to force it upon us, and to make it the doctrine of
the Presbyterian Church. Any man who demurs at this new doctrine, and ventures
to utter, no matter how carefully guarded his language, the old doctrine of the
church, is to be ostracized, proscribed, quietly strangled, or if this cannot
be done, hunted down and destroyed. This slave-driving domination has never
been without injurious effect upon both political and ecclesiastical interests
in the so called 'Free States.'
MacMaster
went on to suggest that his allies needed to build up the Seminary quietly,
avoiding public controversy on the subject until the proper time. This was
precisely what Rice had suspected: MacMaster was engaged in a conspiracy which
could only result in the division of the church.[112]
The second letter confirmed the
first. While eschewing any “divisive or violent course in respect to slavery,”
MacMaster urged Spring to beware of those who argued for General Assembly
control. “We may rely upon it, that the scheme of our opponents is to get the
Seminary put under the Assembly, with the ulterior design of putting into it
men who will be sufficiently subservient to our slave-driving rulers and their
allies in the so called Free States.” One sure way to prevent such a hostile
takeover would be to have donors make conditions “that the Seminary shall
remain under the control of the Synods now united, or which shall become
united, in conformity to the provisions of the constitution, in the direction
thereof; or of such of these Synods as shall continue to be united therein.”
This would ensure the safety of all moneys raised for the seminary. After all,
MacMaster queried, “Do you wish this money and all the other property you have
secured to go into a concern subjected to the offensive domination referred
to?”[113]
Rice challenged MacMaster to provide
evidence that the southern men were trying to force the rest of the church to
uphold their views. If that was in fact the case, then the anti-slavery Rice
would “fight against them” as well. But while the southerners openly stated
their views, and encouraged debate, MacMaster plotted in secret. Further, the
southern men never asked the General Assembly to rid the church of
abolitionists, while the abolitionists regularly overtured the Assembly to
remove slaveholders. If the southerners were such tyrants, why did the
slave-holding synod of Kentucky defend MacMaster so vigorously when he was
elected to New Albany in 1848? For that matter, Robert J. Breckinridge
notoriously promoted emancipation, yet Danville Seminary had received the
approval of the Synod of Mississippi!
Rice argued that the abolitionists
were the true tyrants. Rice recalled the meeting of the Synod of Cincinnati in
1844 when “a motion was made to invite a venerable minister from the Synod of
Kentucky to sit as a corresponding member.” Rice declined to name names, but
insinuated that MacMaster (or at least his friend–Thomas E. Thomas) opposed
this “on the ground that he was charged by rumor, with being guilty of ‘the
heinous and scandalous sin’ of holding slaves.”[114]
Rice declared that he would submit
neither to the “odious domination” of pro-slavery or abolition. If MacMaster
would be so kind as to reveal his plan to eliminate slavery, Rice would be
happy to assist in any reasonable venture, but he could not be party to
subversive measures. Particularly disturbing was MacMaster’s suggestion that
Spring and his colleagues urge donors to insert a condition that none of the
synods had authorized. “No wonder that Mr. Spring was indignant!”[115]
Underlying all of this was Rice’s
opposition to operating secretly. He himself had once been charged with covert
operations in the Cincinnati Seminary affair; but Rice was constitutionally
incapable of keeping anything quiet for long. Like most Presbyterians, Rice was
convinced that open and frank dialogue would produce good and useful results.
Covert operations could only lead to suspicions and recriminations. Worst of
all, Rice concluded, if MacMaster “approaches elders and other laymen with
these charges, and poisons their minds; will he not approach his students in
the same way?”[116] With the conspiracy unmasked, Rice felt certain that
the northwest would swiftly act to remove the conspirators and establish a
seminary faithful to the whole church.
This development shocked the whole
church. Cortlandt Van Rensselaer chimed in a second time on the North West
Seminary controversy, but this time he sang a different tune. MacMaster’s
letters
will destroy his influence
and usefulness in the Presbyterian Church. Indeed, we do not see how any
minister in our body could write such letters, or writing them, desire to
continue in our connection. They disclose so much bitterness of feelig on the
subject of slavery, and such a want of confidence in his brethren, that no
Seminary can be expected to prosper under the professorship and guidance of one
who can make such revelations.. . . . These letters, we presume, virtually
decide the question in favour of a transfer of the Seminary to the GA.[117]
Presbyterians
despised hidden agendas. If a man disagreed with a position of the church, he
should say so openly. But these letters made it appear that MacMaster was
involved in a covert operation to subvert the church. In order for Presbyterian
polity to work, ministers and elders must have confidence in their brethren.
MacMaster’s private missives to his operatives smelled too much like the
Jesuitical devices regularly attributed to Rome. Signaling a shift in
church-wide opinion, Van Rensselaer openly encouraged Rice to persevere in his
newfound Presbyterian Expositor in Chicago.[118]
But two could play at this game. On
January 7, 1858, J. G. Monfort published a full account of the ugly affair of
South Presbyterian Church in Chicago. The leading Old School figure in Chicago
since his arrival from Virginia in 1847 was Cyrus H. McCormick. McCormick had
been instrumental in founding North Presbyterian Church in 1848. Convinced that
Chicago held the future of the Northwest, he longed to see Chicago filled with
Old School Presbyterian churches to exercise a moderating influence over the
rambunctious region. He had authored the oft-quoted statement that the Old
School Presbyterian Church and the Democratic Party were the two hoops that
bound the Union together–and he would devote every spare penny to see that the
Union was preserved. Indeed, he had sought to persuade Rice to come to Chicago
in 1848, but Rice’s eyes were set on the Ohio River–not on some minor town on
the northern fringes of the nation–so North Church called R. H. Richardson
(1848-56).[119] When McCormick had become convinced that Richardson
could not adequately promote his vision, he and several others had founded
South Church in 1854–but still Rice was unwilling to come. So in 1855 McCormick
and South Church called R. W. Henry,[120] whose strident anti-slavery views quickly proved
unsatisfactory for McCormick’s vision. Only after MacMaster and the North West
Seminary had settled on Chicago as the base for their operations did Rice
realize what McCormick had known for years: Chicago controlled the future of
the Northwest–and Chicago was already overrun by abolitionists. Therefore when
Richardson resigned from North Church in 1856, McCormick returned and offered
to provide over $2,000 per year towards Rice’s salary (along with subsidizing
Rice’s newspaper–at a total cost of $11,000 from 1858-61).[121]
Since the South Church also depended
upon McCormick’s largesse (he owned the property where the South Church met,
and his money provided for half of the pastor’s rent) he offered to continue
his provision for the church. But when the remaining elders (wealthy and
conservative business leaders) tried to get Henry to leave South Church, the
rest of the congregation came to his defense, and the elders themselves were
forced out of the church. When Henry started speaking more boldly against
slavery, “McCormick withdrew his aid to South Church; he pressed Henry for
payment of his debt, cut off his supply of free coal, and most serious of all,
declined to donate the lot to the church.”[122] At this the congregation abandoned the building. The Chicago
Press and Tribune complimented the congregation’s resolve to throw off
their dependence upon him and “denounced McCormick as the self-appointed
‘lay-bishop’ of Presbyterianism with 'an ambition to hold in fee simple a
Church and a pastor.' The newspaper called the former site of South Church 'a
good one for any clergyman who happens to be for sale.'”[123] The Presbyterian of the West was quick to
point out that Rice refused to intercede, allowing the South Church to be run
out of its building.[124] In his defense, McCormick argued that if the church
wished to use his money against him, then they were no longer entitled to it.
Monfort and MacMaster’s frustration
was growing, together with that of others in the northwest, because they
believed that the 1818 testimony of the church against slavery had become a
dead letter. But 1858 slowly passed, and little funding could be found for the
North West Seminary.[125] Finally it became clear that synodical control would
not work in the Northwest. Two or three synods, perhaps, could work together
effectively; but the nine synods of the northwest were too divided. In the fall
of 1858, therefore, Cincinnati Synod took the lead (supported by MacMaster and
the seminary board) in voting to hand over the seminary to the General
Assembly. This time, however, all parties were committed to avoiding the
debacle of 1853. For better or worse, the General Assembly’s decision would be
final.[126]
6.
The Theological Seminary of the Northwest and the General Assembly of 1859
MacMaster feared that the
slave-power would seek to control the Assembly, and wrest the seminary from the
anti-slavery party in the northwest. While MacMaster and his allies originally
chose Chicago as the best site for the seminary, Rice’s presence in Chicago
presented a problem. If the new seminary were in Chicago, the Assembly would
probably offer Rice a chair in the new seminary–and MacMaster had made clear to
Monfort that he would refuse to serve with Rice. After consulting with their
allies, MacMaster and Monfort turned to Indianapolis, and with the assistance
of New Albany graduates and supporters, put together an offer of $31,000
towards an endowment, together with land and seminary buildings worth $35,000.[127] A director of the seminary (probably ruling elder
Jesse L. Williams, an influential railroad man from Fort Wayne, Indiana, and a
very active supporter of the seminary) published a comparative view of the
fields of the various seminaries.
Spheres of Influence of Old School Seminaries, 1858-1859
Synods Pbies Ministers Churches Communicants Candidates Attendance
Princeton 6 38 793 751 87,929 169 181
Allegheny 4 20 333 541 49,943 80 129
Danville 6 30 330 515 25,391 61 47
Columbia 3 12 231 363 24,317 29 42
Union 2 8 197 310 24,847 32 17
North-Western 10 44 541 815 45,969 94 NA
Source: Presbyter 18.24 (Feb 24, 1859) 90.
(Attendance numbers are from my own research).
The
director reminded his readers that “the revival blessing of 1858 also calls the
Church, with adoring gratitude and self-sacrificing zeal, to enter upon this
work. Think, for a moment, of her sons that have been gathered into the fold,
and how many of them may set their face toward the ministry, and, it may be,
even now, are waiting to enter this Seminary.” The hopeful future of foreign
missions, the ever-spreading American population, and the painful fact of 250
vacant Presbyterian congregations in the northwest should persuade everyone of
the need for this seminary.[128] But the pages of the Presbyter revealed
that even MacMaster’s supporters were not entirely united. Some preferred a
location in Illinois–while others wondered if the checkered history of New
Albany Seminary indicated that divine providence opposed any northwestern
seminary.[129]
With General Assembly only a month
away, tempers began to fray. When Hill’s Presbyterian Herald urged both
sides to remember that they were brethren, Monfort’s Presbyter (formerly
called the Presbyterian of the West) reminded Hill that during the Cincinnati
Theological Seminary skirmish, Hill had attacked Rice and defended New Albany,
only to turn against it when Danville was founded. Monfort concluded that
“Until the editor of the Herald has brought forth fruits meet for
repentance, we respectfully suggest to him that it would be well for him to
hush.”[130] Somewhat more amused than angered, Hill wondered
whether this was “a specimen of Christian politeness such as is common in the
circles in which our neighbor mingles, but if so, we hope he does not teach it
to the young ladies under his charge [Monfort was president of the Glendale
Female Seminary in Ohio]. They might be indicted as common scolds, should they
imitate it.” Hill could not resist pointing out that
When we were upholding New
Albany Seminary, he, though a director of it, was turning the cold shoulder to
it, mainly because of Dr. MacMaster’s connection with it, and encouraging Dr.
Rice, whom he now so bitterly opposes, to go on with an opposition school He
not only refused to vote for Dr. MacMaster for Professor, and tried hard to
prevent us from doing so, but desired to publish an article against his
acceptance, which Dr. Rice says he refused to publish. Having been for New
Albany Seminary and against it, for Dr. MacMaster and against him, and now for
him again, we respectfully suggest to our neighbor that he lives in a glass
house, and ought not to throw stones at his neighbors for inconsistency.[131]
Hill
had enjoyed the battles of his youth, but now as the most senior editor of the
western papers, he urged his brethren to moderate their tone and listen to each
other more carefully.
The hour for moderation, however,
had passed. By May, when the General Assembly met in Indianapolis, Nathan Rice
had announced that Cyrus McCormick was willing to give $100,000 for the new
seminary if it were in Chicago. And since McCormick’s offer was strictly
verbal, everyone understood that it depended upon the character of the seminary
coinciding with McCormick’s conservative views.
On the floor of the Assembly, David
Stevenson (PTS 1851), pastor of Third Presbyterian in Indianapolis, laid forth
the claims of Indianapolis–joined by Samuel R. Wilson (PTS 1840), formerly
co-editor with Rice of the Presbyterian of the West and pastor of First
Presbyterian in Cincinnati (where his father, Joshua L. Wilson, had been
pastor). Ruling elder Ray Sheets of Indianapolis chimed in, gently suggesting
that since Indianapolis had a number of donors, it would provide a broader
foundation than the munificence of one man.[132]
Dr. Rice replied in “a good humored
speech of about an hour and a half,” reminding the Assembly that those who now
advocated Indianapolis had previously preferred Chicago.[133] If they had failed to provide the finances for New
Albany, how would that change by moving the seminary to Indianapolis? In a
pointed reference to MacMaster’s earlier debacle, “he advised his Indiana
brethren to lend their energies to put South Hanover College on its feet. It
(the College) had passed through troubles enough to kill any thing that wasn’t
Presbyterian (Merriment). But these good brethren have hung on to it, and kept
it from dying.” At this point elder Ray Sheets chimed in with a little
theological humor of his own: “We believe in the perseverance of the saints.”
But in this speech Rice demonstrated that he had finally converted to the
vision of Chicago as the center of the new West, and MacMaster and his allies
were placed in the unenviable position of arguing for a location that was
plainly second-best.
The Rev. David Stevenson, however,
argued that placing the seminary in Chicago would give in to the wiles of one
man. Voicing what many felt, he pointed out that Rice had first tried to unite
Pittsburgh and New Albany seminaries in Cincinnati when he was a pastor in
Cincinnati. Then he had argued in 1853 for a seminary in St. Louis, and had
moved to St. Louis just before that year’s Assembly. Now he argued for Chicago
because he lived there. The only constant in Rice’s convictions regarding the
seminary seemed to be that “it must be where Dr. Rice is.”[134] Rice’s former colleague in Cincinnati, the Rev. Dr.
Samuel R. Wilson thought Indianapolis a more central location. He, too, worried
that the Chicago offer was based on one pledge alone. While he accepted
McCormick’s good faith, he preferred broader support to the deep pockets of one
individual.[135]
Others, however, like ruling elder
John C. Grier of Peoria Presbytery, thought that Rice had demonstrated that
Chicago’s superiority. As the debate continued, the Rev. John Marshall Lowrie
(PTS 1843), pastor at Ft. Wayne, Indiana, called the whole matter a personal
quarrel. Dr. MacMaster immediately interrupted: “A personal quarrel between
whom?” “Between Dr. Rice and Dr. MacMaster,” Lowrie replied. MacMaster pressed
further, “Does the brother mean to say that I have ever–ever been a
party to any personal quarrel on this subject?” “Mr. Lowrie stated that he had
a general impression that there was a quarrel between Dr. M. and Dr. R, on this
subject, and he thought others had the same impression, but he knew nothing
about it personally. When Mr. Lowrie sat down, a dozen men rose to speak,” but
the Rev. David H. Cummins (WTS 1838), pastor at Mount Carmel, Tennessee,
“obtained the floor, and moved the previous question.” The motion was
sustained, and the vote was taken:
Indianapolis 71
Chicago 240
Non-liquet 2
Contrary
to the claims of the supporters of Indianapolis, the northwest preferred
Chicago. Among the eight northwestern synods who had previously had control of
the seminary, the vote stood at 50-33 in favor of Chicago.[136] The details of the seminary’s organization were
referred to the committee on seminaries, selected to represent the church as a
whole–exclusive of the disputing parties in the northwest.[137]
Predictably, MacMaster and Rice
headed the list of nominations for the professorship of theology. In fact, all
three surviving members of Rice’s Cincinnati Theological Seminary faculty were
nominated for professorships at the Northwestern Seminary. The Presbyterian
noted that lobbyists were even busier than usual in between sessions of the
Assembly, urging their cases both for the location and the faculty of the
seminary.[138]
The day’s business closed before the
election, and the correspondent of the Central Presbyterian hurried off
this perceptive note to his paper:
The truth is that underneath
all this question of location, the main difficulty is in the personal relations
of Drs. Rice and McMaster. There has been, as is well known, a painful
controversy between these brethren, which has become complicated with this
Seminary question to a lamentable extent. Parties have been formed as much in
view of these personal relations, and from sympathies for or against the
individuals concerned, as from any other cause. And unhappily, the decision of
the Assembly on one side or the other, which may have no real or intended
relation to this personal controversy will be regarded a triumph or a defeat of
the one or other party.[139]
Presbyterians
found personal controversy distasteful (as MacMaster and Rice would have
agreed). Parties formed around ideas or principles could be tolerated–but not
ones focused around personalities.[140]
The following day, just before the
election of professors, the Rev. Dr. Erasmus Darwin MacMaster moved to refer
the election of professors to the following General Assembly (1860). MacMaster
declared that:[141]
The various public and
official relations in which I have been made to stand to this Seminary for the
last few years, seemed to make it incumbent on me to represent the affair to
the General Assembly, so that it should be fully understood. On the other hand,
the personal relations I bear to the subject seemed to make it very difficult
for me to do this without violating the proprieties and decencies of life.
For ten long years his footsteps had been followed with
accusations to an extent and with a bitterness which he was sure was without a
parallel in the history of any member of this church. To these he had never
replied; but, being a very imperfect Christian, he did not claim this silence
as due to Christian grace. . . .
From the time of the establishment of the Seminary,
efforts had been made to injure it by allegations in regard to the opinions of
the Professors on the subject of slavery. Specific charges were made by
newspapers, and through other agencies, that Drs. McMaster and Thomas were
endeavoring to form a thoroughly Abolition Seminary in the Northwest, with the
view to educating men to become agitators on this subject--to train men to
divide and destroy the church in the Northwest.
Dr. McM then went into a very long history of the action
of the Synod of Missouri, in regard to this Seminary, and noticed in this
connection certain charges made by the St. Louis Presbyterian, 'edited,'
he said, 'by a person I prefer not to name.' . . .
He then read from articles written in September, 1853, in
defence of the Seminary, extracts designed to show that upon the directors of
the Danville Seminary, rested the charge of having excited this opposition.
It became apparent to the friends of New Albany that the
Seminary could not be sustained without the support of additional Synods, and
therefore the project of establishing the Seminary of the Northwest was drawn
up in August, 1856 at New Albany, signed by the two Professors, and a number of
the trustees, and sent to all the ministers of the eight Synods, and to many of
the prominent laymen in them. . .
[Continuing into the night session, he] inveighed
bitterly against what he termed the slave power in the church, and concluded by
saying that, if defeated now, he would go away reverencing the General
Assembly, but he would meet them next year--he would meet them at
Philippi--continuing to contend for the truth until the end. Here, upon his own
free soil, he would fight.[142]
MacMaster’s
speech lasted a full two and one half hours. The written report does not do
justice to the impression that the speech left upon its hearers. The whole
speech, including the last half hour, which contained his first public
denunciation of the slave power, and his bitter challenge to the General
Assembly, was met by silence. The Central Presbyterian noted that
MacMaster’s speech was
an outpouring of the
concentrated wrath of five or ten years, in a form so intense, and acrid, that
it astonished even those who had charged him with cherishing such feelings. . .
. I will only say that his deadliest enemy, if he has such a one, could not
have asked him to do more. It was simple ecclesiastical suicide, in its most
aggravated form. . . . Before the speech great sympathy was felt for him by
many, in view of his ability, age, &c., and a strong desire expressed to
put him in the new faculty.[143]
Discussions
at the General Assembly suggested that MacMaster may have lost as many as one
hundred votes through this speech. MacMaster had turned many against him
through his clandestine operations in the past; now he sealed his fate through
his open declaration of war on the Assembly.
When MacMaster finished, Nathan
Lewis Rice rose and briefly outlined the proofs of “the charges against Dr.
McMaster of a design to establish an institution for indoctrinating
Abolitionism, and for sending out Abolition agitators.” Dr. MacMaster’s letters
had suggested–and now his speech definitively proved that he wanted the North
West Seminary to combat the slave power.[144] Without any further discussion, MacMaster’s motion
was tabled, and the Assembly proceeded to the election of professors. Before
MacMaster’s speech, pundits around the church had predicted that the election
would be close. The final tally showed Rice with 214 votes, MacMaster with 45.
The whole faculty was connected either to Rice or to Kentucky, which boded well
for those who sought to prevent the division of the West–which in their minds
would presage a division of the church–and of the nation.[145] William McKendree Scott (1817-1861) was
born in Ohio, graduated from PTS in 1846, and after serving as professor at
Centre College, Kentucky, from 1847-54, and was called from Seventh
Presbyterian Church in Cincinnati. [Biblical Literature].
The Journal of Commerce, a
conservative political paper, applauded the Old School for its patient handling
of MacMaster and the radicals: “This body of christians have learned to agree
to differ in non-essentials, while in matters cardinal and essential they are
one, and apparently indivisible.”[146] On the other hand, many political and religious
papers had a field day with this speech. Southern papers used it to show that
the Old School was allowing abolitionist agitation in the Assembly, while
Northern papers reviled the Old School for failing to come to MacMaster’s
defense–although some took hope that perhaps the 45 who voted for MacMaster
demonstrated that abolitionist sentiment was growing in the Old School.
But no Old School paper was willing
to defend MacMaster’s speech. Even Monfort’s Presbyter temporarily
distanced itself from MacMaster. While sympathetic to MacMaster’s aims, Monfort
recognized ecclesiastical suicide when he saw it. Indeed, Monfort suggested
that the result was not a complete disaster. Referring to McCormick’s famous
“hoop” statement, Monfort conjectured that
Mr. McCormick's hundred
thousand dollars is a new hoop to keep the Union from falling to staves, as
well as to raise up ministers in our Church. Nevertheless, as his offer has
been made unconditionally to the GA, we may not travel out of the record for a
motive. . . . The location is good, the donation is liberal, and the control is
safe. . . . The necessity of patronage will forbid this to be a Northern
Seminary with Southern principles. Indeed Dr Rice found it necessary to take
high anti-slavery ground before the Assembly. He declared himself in favor of
the action on slavery by the Assembly of 1818, to the letter, and he said he
was opposed to the views of his pro-slavery brethren in the South. The Seminary
at Chicago could not be maintained under any other colors.[147]
The
last portion of MacMaster’s speech, in Monfort’s opinion, contained several
unwise and erroneous items. Indeed, he believed that the motive for the whole
speech was selfish. Knowing that Rice would be elected to one professorship,
MacMaster preferred to “make his speech, though he should lose every vote by so
doing,” which may have had the effect of preventing the election of other men
who might have agreed with him. Further, MacMaster wrongly blamed the slave
power for his overthrow, whereas the real opposition came from those troubled
by his alleged abolitionism–a misunderstanding he did nothing to correct. After
all, Southern men had been MacMaster’s chief defenders from the start. “There
is no evidence that Southern men in our Church are in any sense responsible for
the opposition made to Dr. MacMaster.” Indeed, Monfort suggested that a large
majority of southern men were prepared to vote for MacMaster until his violent
speech convinced them otherwise. Monfort assured his readers that MacMaster was
not a “victim of his views on slavery--these, as he read them to the Assembly,
have been widely published, and are confessedly consistent with the action of
our Church--but because in a tone of defiance and threatening he claimed that
the only question to be settled by the Assembly was, whether it shall sanction
the usurpation and domination of this pro-slavery power in the Church.”
The result was inevitable because MacMaster said that to vote against him was
to vote for the slave power--and to vote for him was to vote against it. Few
even of his supporters were willing to vote for him after that. Monfort
lamented that “the Church is to be deprived of the labors of a man as Professor
of Theology, who is eminently qualified, and who has been, and no doubt still
is, in this region, preferred to any other for this service.”[148]
Monfort’s willingness to criticize
his decapitated head called forth a quick answer from “headquarters” (as
Monfort put it). “Vindex,” writing with the sanction of MacMaster himself,
defended his fallen chief in every respect. McCormick did not sign a legal
contract until after Rice’s election. If Rice had not been elected, everyone
knew that McCormick would have been free to withdraw his offer. It was, in
short, a bribe–and what is more, a bribe that would give the slave power a
controlling interest in the seminary. Further, everyone knew that the Assembly
was trying to put both Rice and MacMaster on the faculty, and for MacMaster,
“it was infinitely more important to him to preserve his own integrity, to
maintain his principles, and to perform his duty, than that he should be put
into any place in that Seminary.” Finally, Vindex insisted that MacMaster’s
tone was measured and calm–not defiant and threatening.[149]
Monfort replied that if MacMaster
had been concerned with the financial arrangements, he should have said so
openly (here suggesting that even he had grown weary of MacMaster’s indirect
methods). There was no southern conspiracy against MacMaster. He had sunk
himself! Monfort concluded that MacMaster suffered from a “morbid state of
mind” which contributed to his constant paranoia.[150]
Still, Monfort refused to cooperate
with the new seminary, and prophesied that “4/5 of the Synod of Cincinnati,
9/10 of Indiana, 2/3 of Northern Indiana and Iowa, 1/4 of Illinois and Chicago,
and 1/10 of Wisconsin and Southern Iowa, will not support the Seminary at
Chicago as now organized.” Rice’s persistent opposition to the seven synods had
earned him their disdain, and his pro-slavery reputation was widespread. The
rest of the faculty had little support in the northwest: Willis Lord was an
associate with Rice at Cincinnati and waffled back and forth twice to
Congregationalism; William M. Scott regularly opposed MacMaster and had
recently voted against continuing the seminary at all; Leroy J. Halsey was less
objectionable–except for the fact that he was on the Rice/McCormick ticket. At
that, Monfort lapsed into a stony silence on the seminary question for several
months.[151]
In October Monfort broke his silence
only long enough to report the synods’ reception of the new seminary. His own
Synod of Cincinnati agreed to disagree regarding seminary selection, and
“pronounced our territory common ground from the Seminaries of the Assembly.”
Western and Danville both commanded greater support than Chicago, while Princeton
remained popular as well (an opinion well supported by the fact that Miami
University sent 21 students to Princeton from 1857-1866).[152] The Synod of Indiana was the only synod that formally
dissented from the formation of North West Theological Seminary and stated its
preference for other seminaries, but Northern Indiana voted 28-13 to withdraw
its exclusive attachment to the seminary. The Synod of Illinois recommended
both Chicago and Danville to its churches 29-20 (with the 20 signing a protest
against this), while the Synod of Southern Iowa seemed generally pleased with
the new seminary and the Synods of Chicago and Wisconsin were overwhelmingly in
favor of it. After all its complaining about being left out, the Synod of
Missouri, he noted, took no action whatsoever.[153]
Formal synodical action, however,
was not the only response. R. S. (probably a ruling elder) reported that while
the Synod of Southern Iowa took no action against the seminary, “hundreds of
our laity [and the synod contained fewer than 3,000 communicant members], and a
goodly number of the ministry, believe the Assembly inflicted a grievous wrong”
in its decision on the seminary. “Moreover, we believe that the Slave-Power is
now exerting an influence upon our beloved church, which, if not checked, must
be disastrous in the extreme.” Determined to join MacMaster in his stand
against the encroaching evil, R. S. declared that “it is the birth-right of a
Presbyterian to think for himself. Having these opinions, we dare maintain
them.”[154]
Elsewhere, the Central
Presbyterian concurred with Monfort that many voted for MacMaster out of
their respect for him and out of their indignation over Rice’s provocative
course of action–not because of any abolition sympathies.[155] The Philadelphia Presbyterian commented that
MacMaster’s speech “might readily have produced an explosion” even in less
excitable bodies, but as one Indianapolis resident said, he “had never before
seen so big a stone thrown into so large a body of water without making even a
ripple upon its surface.” The editors hoped that the West would unite and put
aside contention and strife.[156]
Charles Hodge reviewed MacMaster’s
speech that July, calling it a “manly avowal of opinions which he knew to be
unpopular, and which he must have been aware would place him out of sympathy
with the body which he addressed.”[157] Nonetheless, Hodge could not understand why MacMaster
had destroyed his chances of election, when no one called on him to speak–or
why he engaged in personal controversy on the floor of the Assembly. But after
examining MacMaster’s doctrine of slavery in the speech, Hodge declared that it
made a strange distinction between slavery and slaveholding that made “all
slaveholding, under all conceivable circumstances. . . a crime. There can,
according to his definition, no more be justifiable slaveholding, than there
can be justifiable murder.” Hodge objected that MacMaster defined slavery as “a
system which makes a man a chattel; a thing which denies to him the rights of a
husband and father; which debars him from instruction and means of
improvement.” But Hodge pointed out that in many nations slavery had not
included these things. “Slavery. . . is nothing but involuntary servitude‑that
is, the obligation to render service not conditioned on the will of the
servant.” Hodge insisted that unjust laws did not necessarily define
slavery–otherwise the scripture would be guilty of condoning injustice.[158] The irony, for Hodge, was that by defining slavery
according to the unjust laws of the South, MacMaster was attacking something
that no Presbyterian defended. If slavery, by definition, denied men the rights
of a husband and father, then no southern Presbyterian was pro-slavery, and if
the south ever reformed its slave laws, then MacMaster would have no grounds to
object to the continuation of slavery![159]
While MacMaster remained silent in
the face of all other criticisms, Hodge’s response goaded him to speak. His
reply to Hodge contained the most detailed public statement on slavery that he
ever made. MacMaster insisted again that he had no personal controversy with
“the person you name” (he would resolutely refuse to name Nathan Rice).
“Although it may have been your good fortune, that your controversies have been
with gentlemen, yet you no doubt are aware, that there are some men with whom
one chooses not too have a controversy of any kind whatever.” As to the matter
of slavery, MacMaster insisted that any distinction between slavery and
slaveholding is unsound. The “holding of slaves as slaves,” is always
wrong. Distinguishing between slaves and bond-servants, MacMaster admitted that
it may be necessary at times to hold slaves as bond-servants, but never as
slaves. MacMaster objected that Paley was an unsafe guide in defining slavery
as “nothing but involuntary servitude,” because neither Paley nor Hodge
considered the actual definitions of slavery under law. Giving several state
laws from the South, MacMaster insisted that slavery makes “the legal status of
men to be that of property; that is, of real estate, or of
chattels: which takes them out of the category of persons, having
the personal character and rights which God has conferred on and made
inseparable from humanity even in its lowest estate, and putting them into the
category of things, having no rights.” He desired to reveal how the
minions of the pro-slavery power were interfering with the Northwest–in spite
of the fact that northerners scrupulously avoided any such interference in the
South. “I admit that it is an ugly charge,” but since no other ground was given
except his views on slavery, what other reason could exist?[160]
With their champion disgraced, and
divided over whether to support the Northwestern Seminary, it seemed that
northwestern anti-slavery activism was finally defeated. But Monfort’s
prediction that Rice would be forced to emphasize his antislavery colors in
Chicago soon came true. Since the political and religious papers in Chicago had
immediately labeled him “proslavery,” he set out to prove them wrong.[161] That fall he published his lectures on slavery,
taking very similar ground to MacMaster. After all, the real difference between
the two had more to do with tone than with content. J. G. Monfort commented
that he was “pleased with the main sentiments of these lectures. . . as adapted
to do much good and but little harm.”[162]
Delighted New School papers quickly
declared him an abolitionist and hoped to see counterblasts from Old School
papers. The Presbyterian Herald dashed such fantasies. Hill commented
that he disagreed with certain items in Rice’s articles but insisted that wise
and good men who have confidence in each other’s piety and purity of intention
“can agree to disagree.”[163] Even throughout the tension-filled election year of
1860, the Old School press remained remarkably civil to one another (with the
occasional exception of the Presbyter) even while disagreeing, because
as Rice had put it, “sometimes we must endure certain evils, because the
alternative is worse.”[164]
Nonetheless, Rice’s support in the Presbyterian
Expositor for President Buchanan’s attempt to open the territories to
slavery called forth a patient rebuke from Monfort’s pen: “The Seminary and the
paper will stand we doubt not as monuments of [McCormick’s] beneficence, and in
the end do great good; but we have as little doubt that in the Seminary and in
the paper his wishes and aims on the question of slavery and its relation to
the church are doomed to disappointment. There is no amount of money devoted to
religious foundations, and no amount of talent appertaining to teachers or
editors placed upon them that can bring the Church in the North-West to yield a
jot or tittle of principle or policy on the vexed question.” Monfort was
willing to wait–because he saw that in the end, the North-West was really on his
side. All they had to do was patiently “resist the money power” and wait until
the press and the seminary sounded the right note. “The Old School Presbyterian
Church of the West and North-West will stand firm. She will help to save the
Union by giving to the South all that the Constitution guarantees, and she will
oppose slavery extension by all lawful means.”[165] Anti-slavery Old Schoolers were not abolitionists–but
they were determined free-soilers.[166]
Conclusion
Both Rice and MacMaster desired to
see slavery eradicated as quickly as possible from the United States. Both
rejected abolitionism and agreed that slaveholding was not necessarily sinful.
Both endorsed colonization. And both agreed that their understandings of
slavery and the best means for its eradication were mutually exclusive.
If MacMaster’s story is plainly a
tragedy–as he systematically destroyed three colleges and a seminary, before
ruining his own career–Rice’s story is no less tragic. In 1861, after the
outbreak of the Civil War, Rice resigned his pastorate, theological chair, and
editorship, and took a call to the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York
City–a more congenial location for a reputed southern sympathizer.[167] More pragmatic than the strictly principled
MacMaster, Rice sought to accomplish the impossible by means of the improbable.
Perhaps in retrospect it looks absurd to suppose that intelligent men such as
Rice and McCormick could have believed that a church, a seminary, and a weekly
religious newspaper could have altered the political course of a whole region;
but from the vantage point of 1859, the landscape looked very different.
Many–Rice and McCormick included–had envisioned the likelihood of disunion and
war, but these Old School Presbyterians were convinced that if God
desired the Union to be preserved, then he would doubtless accomplish it
through the spoken and written word–directed to the hearts of men and women
throughout the northwest.
J. G. Monfort continued editing the Presbyter,
and delighted in welcoming the Pittsburgh Presbyterian Banner and the
Philadelphia Presbyterian Standard into the rolls of the Old School
Republican newspapers in the early 1860s. He reveled in his newfound position
as a leader of the majority party in the General Assemblies after the 1861
secession of the Southern synods, and rejoiced in the discomfiture of Rice and
the old conservative bloc, that now found themselves scrambling to explain
their position in the light of new political realities.
And Erasmus Darwin MacMaster? He
remained in quiet seclusion for seven years, writing much (but publishing
little).[168] He attempted to publish a religious monthly in 1862,
but lack of subscribers prevented the first number from ever appearing. One
cannot help but sympathize with MacMaster’s frustration at the refusal of his
church to deal with the southerners’ flagrant disregard for the church’s
traditional teaching on slavery. He could not imagine that he himself might
have had anything to do with the demise of each school over which he presided.
It must have been the slave power–personified in their puppet, Nathan
Rice–which was forcing him into an ever smaller and smaller sphere of influence
until his glorious vision for the northwest was smashed to pieces.
After the departure of the
southerners in 1861, MacMasters supporters gained considerable political
advantage in the General Assembly, and in 1866 the General Assembly restored
Erasmus Darwin MacMaster to the chair that–in the eyes of many–should have been
his from the start. Monfort was exultant: “his retirement from active service,
under the circumstances, for more than seven years, was a festering wound in
the heart of the Church of the North-West, to which his election. . . by a vote
of 204 to 22 was an excellent oil.”[169] The seminary had been restored to the vision of the
founders. But vision alone could not give life–or money. Within six months
Erasmus Darwin MacMaster lay dead, and the “Republican” supporters of the North
West Theological Seminary could only raise a pittance towards the maintenance
of the Northwest Seminary.[170]
Cyrus McCormick’s reaper played an ironic role in the debacle. While McCormick’s money enabled conservative Old School Presbyterians to maintain a foothold in the northwest, his reaper was part of the very engine that drove the freesoil movement of the northwest. McCormick had recognized the importance of Chicago, as railroads and abolitionism relegated the once-central Ohio River to a cultural backwater. And while his incredible wealth gave him considerable power (of the first $1.2 million donated to the Northwest Theological Seminary, over $800,000 came from McCormick and his immediate family) McCormick did not, after all, get what he wanted: the seminary failed to keep the union together–and after the war his munificent gifts to Virginia’s Union Seminary and Washington College (the latter during the presidency of Robert E. Lee–much to the chagrin of northern patriots) could not knit northern and southern Presbyterians back together again. In the end, neither the Old School Presbyterian Church nor the Democratic Party were strong enough hoops to hold together the barrel of the Union.
[1]Editorial,
“The Two General Assemblies” CP 1.31 (August 2, 1856) 122. The Central
Presbyterian was the successor to the Watchman and Observer, as
Benjamin Gildersleeve handed over the editorial reins to Thomas V. Moore and
Moses D. Hoge, the pastors of the First and Second Presbyterian Churches in
Richmond, Virginia. Gildersleeve remained an associate editor.
[2]“Slavery
Agitation,” Presbyterian 27.8 (February 21, 1857) 30.
[3]“Is It
So?” Presbyterian 27.30 (July 25, 1857) 118. When the American
Presbyterian pointed out that the four presbyteries of Wooster,
Chillicothe, Marion and Richland were agitating on slavery, Engles replied that
they had been that way for twenty years, but that these four Ohio presbyteries
were more than balanced by the 13 Ohio presbyteries that were content with the
church’s conservative stance (Oct 17, 1857) 166.
[4]Editorial,
“Agitation at a Discount,” Presbyterian 27.34 (August 22, 1857) 134.
[5]J. D. M.,
“It Is Not So,” Presbyterian 27.34 (August 22, 1857) 134. (Possibly
James Dinsmore Mason of Davenport Iowa, a native of western Pennsylvania, a WTS
graduate of 1841)
[6]Presbyterian
(Nov 7, 1857) 178. Unfortunately, the Presbyterian kept its subscription
information tightly under wraps. It was widely known that it had the highest
circulation of any Old School newspaper, and most estimates place it around
7-10,000, but its geographical spread is unknown (other than the ubiquitous
complaints of other editors that people in every region of the church
subscribed to the Presbyterian rather than to the local paper).
[7]The
growth of a significant anti-slavery movement in the Old School in the 1840s
which became more vocal in the 1850s is consistent with John R. McKivigan’s
thesis that the diverse efforts of Christian abolitionists made significant
inroads into the evangelical denominations during those years. McKivigan, The
War against Proslavery Religion: Abolitionism and the Northern Churches,
1830-1865 (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1984).
[8]One of
the few broader studies that focuses on Presbyterianism in the northwest
(albeit New School Presbyterianism) is Victor B. Howard, Conscience and
Slavery: The Evangelistic Calvinist Domestic Mission, 1837-1861 (Kent,
OH: The Kent State University Press, 1990). David M. Potter has called
attention to Stephen Douglas’s conviction regarding the centrality of Chicago
and the West in 1853. David M. Potter, The Impending Crisis, 1848-1861
(New York: Harper & Row, 1976) 152-153.
[9]Rice had
made a name for himself as a controversialist, editor and popular preacher. He
had built up large congregations in Kentucky and Ohio and in 1848 was probably
the best-known and most widely read Old School Presbyterian minister in the
west.
[10]“The
Synod of Cincinnati” Protestant and Herald 4.6 (Nov 6, 1845). The
Monforts were staunch supporters of Hanover College and had been furious with
MacMaster for his attempted “sabotage” of their college. Now, only a year after
MacMaster left Indiana in disgrace, the Monforts will begin to rehabilitate him
as their anti-slavery champion. After several years as a pastor in eastern New
York, MacMaster had served as president of Hanover College (which he had been
accused of sabotaging), Madison University (which had failed), and Miami
University (which had dwindled during his administration). His botched attempt
to close down Hanover College and replace it with Madison University had earned
him the mistrust of many Indiana Presbyterians.
[11]Wilson–son
of Cincinnati patriarch Joshua L. Wilson–does not seem to have contributed a
great deal and resigned in 1848.
[12]Editorial,
“Slavery–Our Position,” PW 2:2 (March 4, 1847) 86.
[13]E. N.
Sawtell, “Letters Concerning Slavery at the South from the New York Observer”
PW 2.47-48 (August 26-September 2, 1847) 181, 185, 186.
[14]Le Roy
J. Halsey, A History of The McCormick Theological Seminary of the
Presbyterian Church (Chicago: Published by the Seminary, 1893) 32. New
Albany Theological Seminary had its origins in the theological department of
Hanover College–where MacMaster had presided a few years before. But while
Hanover College was under the general oversight of the Synod of Indiana, and
expected to attract students from that state, from 1838 the Seminary was under
the oversight of the three synods of Cincinnati, Indiana and Kentucky, and
hoped to draw students from the entire West. Therefore they sought a more
central location on the Ohio River. An offer of $15,000 from ruling elder Elias
Ayres (given in memory of his son who had died while preparing for the
ministry) and suitable buildings was sufficient to persuade the directors that
New Albany, across the Ohio from Louisville, was the best place.
[15]Halsey,
43.
[16]RJB,
“The New Seminary,” PW (Dec 13, 1849), followed by Rice’s
commentary. Breckinridge had spent the last dozen years in Baltimore and
Pittsburgh, but returned to his native Kentucky in 1847 as the state’s first
superintendent of Public Education.
[17]PH
18.9 (Nov 23, 1848).
[18]David
Monfort, PW (Nov 22, 1848). The Monforts were staunch supporters of
Hanover College and had been furious with MacMaster for his attempted
“sabotage” of their college. Soon, however, David’s nephew J. G. Monfort would
begin to rehabilitate him as their anti-slavery champion.
[19]Nathan
Lewis Rice, North Western Theological Seminary (np, nd [1857]) 3.
[Archives, Union Theological Seminary].
[20] The
following year, 1849, they had promise of enough funding from Kentucky to add
another professor. Daniel Stewart (1811-1897) of New York (PTS 1838), taught
biblical literature (1849-53), moving Wood over to church history. Stewart had
ministered in Amsterdam, NY, after James Wood, and then had followed him to New
Albany, taking a call to the 1st Presbyterian church of New Albany
in 1844. With New Yorkers Wood, Stewart and MacMaster on the faculty, the
balance between north and south was lost completely. So the seminary called
Philip Lindsley (1786-1855) out of retirement from his twenty-five year
presidency at the University of Nashville to teach pastoral theology
(1849-1855). Halsey, A History of The McCormick Theological Seminary,
53. Lindsley, the moderator of the General Assembly in 1834, had married Mary
Ann Ayres, the widow of the seminary’s chief patron, Elias Ayres, and since
they were both quite wealthy, he required no payment for his teaching. Lindsley
resigned in 1853 due to the uncertain future of the institution, but continued
to teach until his death in 1855. Also by 1849 New Albany developed a German
constituency. Several German students wished to train for the ministry in order
to pastor German Presbyterian congregations (the number of which was rapidly
growing in the West), so the seminary appointed John Lichtenstein as their
professor (previously a minister in the First New York Presbytery, he also
pastored the German Presbyterian congregation in New Albany). PH 19.47
(Aug 15, 1849), and 19.49 (Aug 29, 1849). This relationship seems to have
continued through 1853.
[21]PH 19.26
(March 21, 1849). The trustees of the fund were ministers William L.
Breckinridge, Edward P. Humphrey, and Leroy J. Halsey, and ruling elders Samuel
Casseday and William Richardson.
[22]N., “New
Albany Seminary” PH 18.12 (Dec 14, 1848).
[23]PH 20.6
(Oct 31, 1849). New Albany professor Philip Lindsley, a member of the Synod,
spoke vigorously against this, but most six of the eight ruling elders voted
with the Doak family (the leading educators in Tennessee).
[24]PH 18.12
(Dec 14, 1848). This is borne out by the database study which indicates that
Princeton graduated more western students than New Albany.
[25]Robert
J. Breckinridge, “Theological Seminaries: A Few Considerations in Regard to
Them. Addressed to the Rev. Dr. John McDowell, Rev. H. A. Boardman, M. Newkirk,
Esq., Alexander W. Mitchell, M.D., and James N. Dickson, Esq., a Committee of
the General Assembly, &c.,” BLRM 6.9 (September, 1840) 399.
[26]Breckinridge,
“Theological Seminaries,” 400-401.
[27]Breckinridge,
“Theological Seminaries,” 405.
[28]“Theological
Seminaries” PW 3.44 (Aug 3, 1848) 382. It is interesting that such
diverse characters as Robert J. Breckinridge and Gardiner Spring should have
concurred in their suspicion of seminaries. Spring was New England trained, and
had protested against the exclusion of the New School synods, whereas Breckinridge
was a Kentuckian who had led the charge against the New School.
[29]“Another
Western Theological Seminary” PH 19.5 (Oct 25, 1849).
[30]Editorial,
PW 5.5-9 (Nov 1, 8, 15, 22, 29, 1849); quote from Nov 1.
[31]PW 5.10
(Dec 6, 1849).
[32]Parvus,
“Cincinnati Theological Seminary” PH 19.6 (Nov 1, 1849); Observator, PW
5.14-15 (Jan 3, 10, 1850). For several months Rice and Hill (who had spent
several years as village pastors in neighboring towns in Kentucky) debated the
wisdom and propriety of this scheme. Hill printed a defense of New Albany
Seminary by two of Kentucky’s leading pastors, W. L. Breckinridge and E. P.
Humphrey. Rice replied to Breckinridge and Humphrey that the west could only
support one seminary–and that New Albany was shrinking and dying. The only way
to unite the west on one seminary was to begin again in a new location with new
blood. PW 5.24-25 (March 7, 14, 1850). “Cincinnati Theological
Seminary,” W&O 6.3 (August 29, 1850) 11. The Richmond Watchman
and Observer was noncommittal, though it approved of the pastoral tone of
the general plan of the seminary. In general, though, the lack of
ecclesiastical oversight, and the sense that Rice had acted too hastily
prevented most Old School Presbyterians from supporting the new seminary. SDS,
“General Assembly” W&O 6.32 (May 29, 1851), suggested that the
western brethren tended to fight and quarrel much quicker, but also made up
quicker; the problem, from his point of view was that so long as they fought,
they could not be friends. From his stand point, it appeared that as of 1851,
MacMaster had the larger support.
[33]Nathan
Lewis Rice, North Western Theological Seminary (np, nd [1857]) 5. [Archives,
Union Theological Seminary]. Rice admitted that Monfort wanted to see a larger
endowment and a more traditional seminary, but in the polemical context of
1857, wished to show that Monfort had not always supported MacMaster.
[34] PW
5.29 (April 11, 1850). The dissenters were Samuel R. Wilson–son of the recently
deceased Joshua L. Wilson and formerly Rice’s co-editor, and L. G. Gaines. They
would only approve if the other seminaries could be united in Cincinnati.
[35] “Theological
Seminary” PW 6.1 (Sept 26, 1850) 2.
[36] PW 7.3 (October
9, 1851).
[37] The faculty of the seminary
consisted of James Hoge, professor of Ecclesiastical History, Church Government
and Evidences, Nathan L. Rice, professor of Didactic and Polemic Theology and
Mental and Moral Science, Willis Lord, professor of Pulpit and Pastoral Instruction,
and James C. Moffat, professor of Biblical Literature and Criticism. (Hoge had
moved from Virginia to Ohio in 1814 out of his disgust for slavery, and Lord
would later be identified with the vigorously anti-slavery wing of the church,
so this should not be seen as a pro-slavery faculty).
[38] Halsey, A History of
The McCormick Theological Seminary, 265; and database. The Presbyterian
Herald wondered loudly how a Congregationalist could be expected to train
Presbyterian ministers, and Rice’s reply, that “circumstances may render
expedient, in particular instances, that which ought not to become general,”
was not comforting to those who believed that Rice was more concerned with
power than with principle. “Reply to Presbyterian Herald” PW 6.48
(August 21, 1851). The Congregationalist was Willis Lord, the third professor
of Cincinnati Seminary in 1851. Since no Presbyterian church was prepared to
call him, Lord accepted a call from the First Orthodox Congregational church in
Cincinnati. The seminary did not have enough funding to pay full-time
professors, and Rice thought that it would be best for seminary classes to be
taught by full-time pastors. The Massachusetts-born, Princeton-educated Lord
(1809-1888) had served two Congregational churches before transferring to the
Old School Presbytery of Philadelphia to pastor the Pennsylvania Square
Presbyterian Church (1840-51). The irony about the debate over whether he was
sufficiently Presbyterian is found in the fact that at the time he was serving
as the stated clerk of the General Assembly (1846-50). Nonetheless, the
cooperation between the Congregationalists and Presbyterians in Cincinnati was
brief. Six weeks after Rice announced Lord’s call to the First Congregational
Church, the Presbyterian of the West noted that Lord had resigned his
pastorate under pressure, since the Congregational Church was unwilling to
allow him to remain a member of the Presbytery of Cincinnati. PW 7.1 (September 25, 1851). Two months later
he was called to the Seventh Presbyterian Church of Cincinnati, ending the
controversy about his Congregational connection, but leaving lingering doubts
about the principles upon which the seminary would operate. PW 7.9
(November 20, 1851).
[39] PW 7.31 (May 27,
1852).
[40] “Theological Seminaries” PW
8.3 (October 7, 1852).
[41] Kentucky, “Seminary—the
Olive Branch” PW 8.10 (November 25, 1852).
[42] “Theological Seminary in
the West” PW 8.16 (January 6, 1853) 62.
[43]McCormick
had attended Rice’s church at various times in 1845-47, while McCormick was
expecting to establish his headquarters in Cincinnati. But by 1847 McCormick
became convinced that the rivers no longer held the future of the northwest,
and moved his reaper manufacturing center to the fledgling Chicago. William T.
Hutchinson, Cyrus Hall McCormick (New York: The Century Co., 1930)
I:241-253. McCormick wrote to Rice: “We do think the cause for which you have
been so successfully laboring would be promoted by the change. We believe our
whole church throughout the country is now sensible of the great importance of
securing its proper influence upon the vast interests extending throughout the
great N. Western country of which Chicago must be the principal City and
commercial emporium.” McCormick to Rice Dec 3, 1854, quoted in Hutchinson, Cyrus
Hall McCormick II:10. Apparently McCormick had also written in 1852 to urge
Rice to come to Chicago.
[44] “The Theological Seminary
and St Louis” PW 8.27 (March 24, 1853). James Smith replied on April 14
that the Synod of Illinois had not endorsed any particular location, but noted
that Peoria was the favorite among Illinois Presbyterians.
[45] Some thought that he left
for more money—but John D. Thorpe, the publisher of the Presbyterian of the
West (and a ruling elder in Central Presbyterian Church, Cincinnati),
pointed out that $2,500 and the use of a manse in St. Louis was far below his
Cincinnati salary; see PW 8.34 (May 19, 1853), 8.37 (June 9, 1853).
[46]“A
Theological Seminary for the West” W&O 8.34 (March 31, 1853) 134.
[47]“General
Assembly,” Presbyteran 23.23 (June 4, 1853) 90.
[48]The
irony is that Danville is thirty miles closer to Columbia in a straight line
than Nashville, but in terms of the regional connections of the Old School,
Tennessee was much closer to South Carolina than Kentucky. Many northwesterners
still thought of Kentucky as part of the northwest. As evidence of this, no one
appears to have pointed out Breckinridge’s geographical error.
[49]“Proceedings
of the General Assembly,” W&O 8.43 (June 2, 1853) 170. The relation
of East and West can be seen in Kensey Johns’ (the Chancellor of Delaware)
intimation that the West had “monopolised the time of the house” through this
debate–even though Rev. P. D. Young of southern Illinois (Kaskaskia Presbytery)
pointed out that the great majority of that time had been used by one man (R.
J. Breckinridge)–much to the dismay of those who wanted a truly western seminary
[“Proceedings of the General Assembly,” W&O 8.44 (June 9, 1853)
173]. Cf. “General Assembly,” BRPR 25:3 (July, 1853) 505-513.
[50]“Proceedings
of the General Assembly,” W&O 8.43 (June 2, 1853) 170.
[51] “Address of the Directors
of New Albany Seminary” PW 8.41 (July 7, 1853). This was echoed in even
stronger language by A Member of Cincinnati Synod, “Theological Seminary” PW
13.1 (September 22, 1853).
[52] “New Albany Theological
Seminary” PW 8.40 (June 30, 1853).
[53] A Member of Cincinnati
Synod, “Theological Seminary” PW 13.1 (September 22, 1853).
[54]The
Danville curriculum attempted a novel experiment in theological education.
Rather than divide the students into classes, each professor taught his whole
department in a three year cycle (the only exception being language study). In
1857, after the experiment had been in place for four years, R. J. Breckinridge
described the curriculum for the Central Presbyterian: in his didactic
and polemic theology course the whole student body studied the knowledge of God
1) objectively considered, 2) subjectively considered, and 3) relatively
considered (polemics). Breckinridge argued that any one of these foci could
provide a useful starting point for the student. Edward P. Humphrey taught
ecclesiastical history in sequence: 1) the Old Testament Church–typology and the
various covenants, 2) the apostolic and ancient church, and 3) the medieval and
modern church. Stuart Robinson had just been called as the third professor, so
he had not fully developed the field of Church Government and Practical
Theology, but Breckinridge summarized Robinson’s view as seeing the whole in
terms of “objective facts regarding the church and subjective life of the
church.” [“Danville Seminary” CP 2.18 (May 2, 1857) 70]. But outside of
Kentucky, this method found few supporters [Q, “The Danville Pedagogick” PW
(March 15, 1854) 101].
[55]“The
Danville and New Albany Theological Seminaries,” W&O 9.13 (Nov 3,
1853) 49.
[56]John C.
Young, “The Danville and New Albany Theological Seminaries” W&O 9.17
(Dec 1, 1853) 66.
[57]At the Assembly of 1854, MacMaster arose and renewed his claims that Robert J. Breckinridge (or others from the Synod of Kentucky) had falsified documents and manipulated the whole creation of Danville Seminary. Breckinridge replied with humor that “if the Assembly were tired of their bargain, they would not find him hanging on to their skirts.” In a self-deprecating gesture, but one with a message for MacMaster, who claimed to speak for New Albany, Breckinridge declared that “when he spoke in the name of the Synod of Kentucky, or an ecclesiastical body, he spoke much more guardedly than he did when he spoke in the name of that old Dr. Breckinridge who lived within him, and gave him a great deal of trouble.” Further, he said that it appeared as though New Albany wanted to agitate on the subject of slavery. Finally, he could not see how MacMaster could oppose moving the seminary: “He wished he had time, just as a matter of amusement, to argue a point. Suppose it had occurred to him to be President of a College at South Hanover, Indiana, and suppose he had wished to change it to Madison, Indiana, and call it Madison University.” At this, MacMaster arose and indignantly protested, “I never proposed to remove a College from South Hanover.” Granting that this was technically true, Breckinridge stated it more bluntly: “Suppose then it had occurred to him to kill the College at South Hanover, and erect a new one at Madison–suppose the Synod of Indiana were to take great offence at this, and suppose his Madison University was to be broken up, and the charter given back to South Hanover–now does all this row and trouble mean nothing? Was that Institution, through all these changes, the same College? Then New Albany Seminary would be the same Seminary after the proposed changes.” Legally speaking, New Albany Seminary no longer existed. Seven synods had handed it over to the Assembly, and only three now sought to carry it on. Nonetheless, Breckinridge did not wish to interfere with New Albany–so long as New Albany would stop trying to interfere with Danville.
[58]During
the same time period another six graduates each from Miami and Hanover attended
Princeton though only two from Centre. These colleges had sent 5, 16, and 22
students respectively to Princeton from 1847-1853. It is worth pointing out
that Hanover students only started coming to Princeton in droves shortly after
MacMaster was elected professor at New Albany in 1848. Even Halsey, who is
generally sympathetic to MacMaster, admits that his presence at New Albany led
to the decline of the seminary–despite his fine teaching (A History of The
McCormick Theological Seminary, 49). From 1857-1866 Miami and Hanover
returned to the Princeton fold, sending 21 and 31 students respectively, as the
northwest became increasingly uncomfortable with Kentucky). After the war the
stream from Hanover to Princeton dried up, as no Hanover graduate enrolled in
1866, 1867 or 1868 (after averaging 4-5 per year during the war). See appendix
three. Meanwhile Danville had 36 students in its first year, and Western more
than doubled its attendance in five years. In its first decade (1853-1863)
Danville had 136 students. Of the 100 whose place of origin is known, 38 came
from the southwest (24 from Kentucky) and 18 from north of the Ohio River (13
from Ohio). An additional 20 came from states normally associated with the
southern seminaries (eight from Virginia and six from North Carolina), and 18
from northeastern states (the other six were foreign born). Of the 128 whose
college is known, 36 came from northwestern colleges (13 from Hanover, eight
from Miami, and seven from Jefferson), 63 from southwestern colleges (50 from
Centre), 11 from the southeast (six from Hamden-Sydney) and 14 from the
northeast (eight from the College of New Jersey), while four were educated in
Europe.
[59]“The
Banner–Dr. Thornwell and the Seminary,” Southern Presbyterian 11.18
(February 13, 1858).
[60]“The
Banner–Dr. Thornwell and the Seminary,” Southern Presbyterian 11.18
(February 13, 1858). The True Witness of New Orleans concurred with
Cunningham. Southern Presbyterian 11.21 (March 6, 1858).
[61]From the
St. Louis Presbyterian, reprinted in the Presbyterian 24.46
(November 18, 1854) 182.
[62] “The Critic vs. New
Albany” PW 13.50 (August 30, 1854) 198.
[63]Editorial,
“Our Theological Seminaries,” Southern Presbyterian 7.41 (July 27,
1854) 162.
[64]A native
of Pennsylvania, Hugh Stewart Fullerton (1804-1863) had studied privately with
Dr. Samuel Crothers of Greenfield, Ohio, a leading abolitionist member of the
Chillicothe Presbytery, and was licensed in 1830 by that presbytery. He served
at Salem church from 1838 until his death in 1863.
[65]“Letter
from H. S. Fullerton” PW 8.21 (February 10, 1853) 82-3. Using Uncle
Tom’s Cabin to make a connection between slavery and the Roman Catholic
Church was not a one-way street. It was twice placed on the Index. Simeon
Brown, who took over for Rice briefly in 1853 said in “Uncle Tom's Cabin” PW
13.3 (October 6, 1853), that “the poor old man, whom they call the Pope, has
given a second kick at Mrs. Stowe's world famous book. Twice now, has it gone
into the solemnly prohibited list, and this last time as 'damnably pernicious.'
We thought it was a capital thing, when we first read it. . . . But we are now
satisfied. If the Devil were in the book, the Pope would never have put the
book in the Index. He never treats in that way his most valuable and powerful
ally. We take his acts, therefore, in this matter, as a demonstration that
Uncle Tom is a genuine fruit of Liberty and the Bible.” [The numbering of the
newspaper changed frequently. Rice’s volume numbers recorded the years as a
weekly paper, since 1845, whereas Brown chose to add four more years, to
reflect the bimonthly PW 1841-1845.] The Virginia-based Watchman and
Observer ran a very popular series on “Uncle Tom Logic” by Theophilus (the
Rev. George Junkin, president of Washington College in Lexington, Virginia),
which criticized Stowe on many levels, not least for giving her
African-American characters the sensibilities of the most highly educated
whites. Junkin (who would return to his native Pennsylvania in 1861 after being
dismissed for refusing to fly the Confederate flag) did admit “the argument of
these volumes to be good and logical, and from premises too, fair and just, to this end; viz: that many slave
laws require to be amended, for the prevention of two great evils: the separation
of husband and wife (except for crime) and of young children from their
mothers. Public sentiment in these two points, is greatly ahead of the law in
most states. . . Let the marital relation be recognised and regulated
everywhere by just and Christian laws; and let children under a certain age be
always an appendage of the mother and not separable from her.” Theophilus,
“Uncle Tom Logic No. VIII. Gratuitous Assumptions” W&O 9.34 (March
30, 1854) 133.
[66]“Divisions
on the Slavery Question” PW (March 22, 1855).
[67]“Dr
Breckinridge's Letter,” PW (September 6, 1855). Other responses to the
caning of Sumner include Nathan L. Rice, in the St. Louis Presbyterian
of June 19, 1856, who thought that both sides revealed the folly that had
possessed Washington, and called for the election of wise rulers.
[68]Editorial,
“Signs of the Times” PW (June 5, 1856) 150 and L, “The Slavery
Question,” PW (June 5, 1856) 151. If the northwest includes all of Ohio,
then the author would be Henry G. Comingo of First Presbyterian, Steubenville
(410 communicant members), but if Ohio is excluded, then the author is likely
Samuel Newell of Paris, Illinois (257 communicant members). Possibly, since
Steubenville was in the Pittsburgh orbit (which was no longer considered part
of the northwest, Nathaniel West, Jr., of Central Presbyterian, Cincinnati, is
intended (393 communicant members). The universality of his claims will be shown
false in what follows.
[69]Editorials,
PW (July 3, 1856), (October 2, 1856).
[70]PW
(Nov 6, 1856). Old School newspapers across the country concurred with Monfort
in this matter.
[71]PW
16.14(December 25, 1856).
[72]“Our
Church and Slavery” PW (Nov 6, 1856) 26.
[73]“Presbyterian
Church and Slavery,” PW 16.19 (January 29, 1857).
[74]Veritas,
“The Truth of the Question” PW 16.22 (February 19, 1857).
[75]H. S.
Fullerton, “Our Church and Slavery” PW 16.43 (July 16, 1857) 170.
[76]Fullerton,
“Our Church and Slavery, No II” PW 16.44 (July 23, 1857).
[77]PW
16.43 (July 16, 1857) 170.
[78]Clericus,
“Church and Slavery” PW 16.44 (July 23, 1857).
[79]“Brother
Fullerton’s Second Article,” PW 16.44 (July 23, 1857).
[80]“What
the Presbyterian Thinks” PW (October 29, 1857).
[81]A Member
of the Assembly of 1818, “Southern Presbyterian Review” PW 18.7
(November 4, 1858) 25.
[82]“Letter
from Rev. J. S. Fullerton of Mt Vernon Iowa” Presbyter 18.27 (March 24,
1859).
[83]Quoted
in “Two Views” Presbyter (May 19, 1859). In response Monfort cited
Cortland Van Rensselaer’s recent articles in the Presbyterian Magazine,
along with Nathan L. Rice and R. J. Breckinridge, all of whom were
conservatives who affirmed that the Assembly had in fact reaffirmed 1818 in
1846. McInnis replied with “No Law to Repeal” True Witness 6.30 (October
15, 1859).
[84]N. L.
Rice, “Anti-Slavery Lectures” from the St. Louis Presbyterian, W&O
10.12 (October 26, 1854). With Rice as the editor of the St. Louis
Presbyterian, the paper began to draw on a wider geographical area,
including much of Illinois.
[85]See
chapter seven. Even with the railroads and steamships, travel from St. Louis to
New York City still took around a week. (See “Notes of an Excursion to St.
Louis,” Presbyterian Magazine 1.7 (July, 1851). The Assembly took only
the last two weeks of May that year, but Rice was delayed by his assignment in
Rhode Island until July.
[86]St.
Louis Presbyterian (September 25, 1856)
[87]“The
Presbyterian Press” St. Louis Presbyterian 13.16 (October 16, 1856).
[88]St.
Louis Presbyterian 13.20 (November 13, 1856). For more on the election of
1856, see Tyler Anbinder, Nativism and Slavery: The Northern Know Nothings
and the Politics of the 1850s (New York: Oxford University Press,
1992) chapter 9.
[89]E. D.
MacMaster, A Theological Seminary for the North-West (n.p., n.d.) [Union
Theological Seminary Archives]. The reference to the size of the northwest in
relation to Scotland indicates an awareness of the magnitude of the task–and a
memory of the days when the Presbyterian Church of Scotland was the one and
only church.
[90]CP
1.42 (October 19, 1856); PH 26.10 (Nov 6, 1856). The timing could not
have been worse. Besides the divisive issue of slavery, the Panic of 1857
rendered fund-raising nearly impossible.
[91]“The
Seminary Movement” St. Louis Presbyterian (Oct 23, 1856).
[92]PW
16.27 (Feb 5, 1857).
[93]PH
26.13 (Nov 27, 1856). Together with other votes that Iowa gave, this suggests
that Iowa had fairly close ties with Missouri, and hints at a conception of the
west that is more oriented toward the Mississippi River than either Chicago or
the Ohio River.
[94]“Slavery”
St. Louis Presbyterian (January 22, 1857).
[95]“Slavery”
St. Louis Presbyterian (January 22, 1857). This essay was reprinted the
following week, with several hundred extra copies printed for wide distribution
throughout the church. His editorial skirmishing with Monfort continued nearly
every week for the next two months. Rice suggested on March 5 that he had the
documents to prove his case. William Hill, editor of the Presbyterian Herald
urged the two editors to print each other’s responses or else their readers
would only hear half the story. PH 26.20 (Jan 15, 1857). Neither side
fully complied with this request, and one has to read both papers to find out
what the debate was really about.
[96]St.
Louis Presbyterian 14.9 (August 27, 1857).
[97]“Theological
Seminary of the North West” Presbyterian Magazine 7.6 (June, 1857)
262-3. Monfort, as usual, was the one encouraging the new deliverance on
slavery.
[98]A Ruling
Elder to Cortland Van Rensselaer, “Theological Seminary of the North West” PW 16.45
(July 30, 1857) 177.
[99]“The
Slavery Agitation in the Presbyterian Church” PH (August 6, 1857).
[100]“Predictions”
PH (August 6, 1857).
[101]“Presbyterian
Theological Seminary of the North West: Meeting of the Board of Directors” PH
27.12 (Sept 17, 1857).
[102]“Presbyterian
Theological Seminary of the North West: Meeting of the Board of Directors” PH
27.12 (Sept 17, 1857).
[103]“North
West Theological Seminary” PH 27.14 (October 1, 1857).
[104]PH
27.15 (October 8, 1857).
[105]Hutchinson
suggests that McCormick had been attempting to connect the northwest with the
south ever since his arrival in Chicago. William T. Hutchinson, Cyrus Hall
McCormick (New York: The Century Co., 1930) I:259. The following year,
1858, the United States Supreme Court ruled against McCormick in a patent
infringement lawsuit. The judge who delivered the opinion was Robert Grier,
also an Old School Presbyterian ruling elder. (448)
[106]E.
D. MacMaster, “A Card” PW 17.5 (Oct 22, 1857).
[107]Nathan
L. Rice, North Western Theological Seminary (np, nd [1857]) 6.
[Archives, Union Theological Seminary].
[108]Ibid.,
7.
[109]Ibid.,
10.
[110]Spring
was the brother of the Rev. Gardiner Spring of the Brick Church, New York City.
Hutchinson, II:10.
[111]Ibid.,
11.
[112]Ibid.,
12-14. Erasmus Darwin MacMaster to Charles A. Spring, May 18th, 1857.
[113]Ibid.,
16-17. Erasmus Darwin MacMaster to Charles A. Spring, July14, 1857.
[114]Ibid.,
21.
[115]Ibid.,
24.
[116]Ibid.,
25.
[117]“The
Seminary of the Northwest” Presbyterian Magazine 8.1 (January, 1858) 42.
[118]Presbyterian
Magazine 8.2 (February, 1858); see also Presbyterian Expositor 1.2
(January, 1858) 94-95.
[119]Richardson
was a native of Kentucky and a Princeton Seminary graduate (‘48), but was not a
very strong presence in Chicago.
[120]Henry
never attended an Old School seminary.
[121]“The
Seminary Matter” Presbyterian Expositor 1.1 (Dec, 1857) 44.
[122]Marilee
Munger Scroggs, A Light in the City: The Fourth Presbyterian Church of
Chicago (Published by the Fourth Presbyterian Church of Chicago, 1990) 11.
[123]Ibid.,
11, citing Hutchinson's McCormick p13. Scroggs points out, however, that
McCormick came to the rescue of the congregation when creditors threatened to
foreclose in 1865: “he was a very generous man, especially in pursuit of what
he considered to be righteous--even godly--causes. He believed that his wealth
was particularly valuable because it could be used to help others; but he
adamantly resisted allowing his money to be used for purposes he could not support.
. . . McCormick pursued his goals single-mindedly, and at this period of his
life a primary goal was the preservation of the Union. If he could prevent it,
the slavery question would not split the nation.”
[124]Letter
from the Hon. John Wilson, PW 17.16 (January 7, 1858). Wilson was a
member of South Church, and was formerly Commissioner of the General Land
Office under President Pierce.
[125]The
frustration boiled over in a particularly nasty attack on Rice’s replacement in
St. Louis, James A. Paige. Paige had referred to Monfort’s “schismatic faction
which lately failed to establish a sectional Seminary at Chicago,” to which
Monfort replied by calling Paige, “a quondam Ohioan, in whose brief editorial
career the acute inflamation of ecclesiastical acclimation has reached the
point, as the doctors say, when it must necessarily soon terminate in
resolution, suppuration or mortification.” Paige replied with mockery: “Horror!
ourself the sole subject of a long article, and that by a Doctor of Divinity in
his wrath!. . . We were born in Massachusetts, raised in Indiana and once
resided in Ohio. But does he reproach us for having lived there?. . . Or does
he mean that Ohio is so intensely abolitionist hat, to have once breathed its
air, a man must become as fanatical and hostile to everything Southern as
himself?” Monfort had spoken of Paige’s editorial as “born of the viper. We
greatly regret that Mr. Paige fell into a fit of puerile pugnacity.” To which
Paige replied: “And so do we, considering the object.” Paige, “Odium
Theologicum” St. Louis Presbyterian (June 24, 1858) 196.
[126]Monfort’s
tone was resigned but hopeful in the PW 18.3, 5 (October 7, 21, 1858);
Rice was confident that the northwest would finally get a seminary that would
not bow to sectional jealousies, but would be faithful in building up the whole
church. “Northwestern Theological Seminary” Presbyterian Expositor 1.12
(November 1858) 663.
[127]“Location
of the Seminary” from the Indianapolis Daily Journal, Presbyter 18.23
(Feb 17, 1859). Other leaders of the Indianapolis movement included ministers
Holliday and David Stevenson, and elders Ray Sheets and McIntire of
Indianapolis and Jesse L. Williams and Judge Hanna of Ft Wayne. The various
offers are described in “General Assembly” CP 4.23 (June 4, 1859) 89.
[128]A
Director, “Theological Seminary of the North West” Presbyter 18.24 (Feb
24, 1859) 90. “Candidates” refers to those under care of presbyteries, and does
not reflect seminary attendance. It includes many who were still in college.
[129]Presbyter
(February-April, 1859).
[130]“The
Seminary War” Presbyter 18.30 (April 14, 1859).
[131]“The
Presbyter and the Seminary War” PH 28.43 (April 21, 1859).
[132]“General
Assembly,” Presbyterian 29.23 (June 4, 1859) 92.
[133]“North
West Theological Seminary” CP 4.30 (July 23, 1859) 117.
[134]“General
Assembly,” Presbyterian 29.23 (June 4, 1859) 89.
[135]“General
Assembly,” Presbyterian 29.23 (June 4, 1859) 89.
[136]“North
West Theological Seminary,” CP 4.30 (July 23, 1859) 117. The official
vote was 253-71 (due to the practice of allowing absent members to record their
votes, so long as the outcome was not altered).
[137]“General
Assembly” CP 4.23 (June 4, 1859) 90. (Only two of the thirteen men came
from the northwestern synods).
[138]“General
Assembly,” Presbyterian 29.23 (June 4, 1859) 94.
[139]“Editorial
Correspondence” CP 4.23 (June 4, 1859) 90.
[140]This
anti-party mentality mirrored that of antebellum political culture. See Rogan
Kersh, Dreams of a More Perfect Union (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
2001).
[141]Note
that the reporter frequently lapses into the third person. “General Assembly” CP
4.24 (June 11, 1859) 93. The reporter for the Presbyterian claimed that
MacMaster read the speech. “General Assembly,” Presbyterian 29.23
(June 4, 1859) 94.
[142]The
speech was later printed as The Presbyterian theological seminary of the
north‑west: speech in the general assembly of the Presbyterian Church,
May 30th, 1859 (Cincinnati: Gazette Co. Steam Print, 1859), which compared
with the above report appears to be a faithful transcription. Hodge later
reviewed it in the Princeton Review, to which MacMaster replied in the Presbyter.
[143]CP
4.25 (June 18, 1859) 98.
[144]“General
Assembly” CP 4.24 (June 11, 1859) 93.
[145]Willis Lord (1809-1888) was born in Connecticut, briefly attended PTS in 1833, and had previously served as a colleague of Rice’s at Cincinnati Seminary. He was called from the Second Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn. [Ecclesiastical History].
Leroy Jones Halsey (1812-1896) was born in Virginia, graduated from PTS in 1840, and was called from Chestnut Street Church in Louisville, Kentucky. [Pastoral Theology].
[146]“Old
School General Assembly” from the Journal of Commerce, printed in the CP
4.24 (June 11, 1859) 93.
[147]Presbyter
18.38 (June 9, 1859).
[148]“Dr
MacMaster's Speech” Presbyter 18.39 (June 16, 1859).
[149]Vindex,
“The Presbyter on Dr MacMaster's Speech” Presbyter 18.41 (June 30,
1859).
[150]“Vindex”
Presbyter 18.41 (June 30, 1859).
[151]“The
North-West Seminary” Presbyter 18.42 (July 7, 1859).
[152]“Synod
at Hillsborough” Presbyter 19.3 (Oct 6, 1859) 10.
[153]Presbyter
19.7 (Nov 3, 1859).
[154]R.
S., “Synod of Southern Iowa” Presbyter 19.9 (Nov 17, 1859).
[155]“North
West Theological Seminary” CP 4.30 (July 23, 1859) 117; “Dr.
MacMaster’s Speech” Presbyter 18.39 (June 16, 1859).
[156]Cited
in “The Assembly and the Seminary” Presbyter 18.40 (June 23, 1859).
[157]Charles
Hodge, “General Assembly” BRPR 31.3 (July, 1859) 590.
[158]Charles
Hodge, “General Assembly” BRPR 31.3 (July, 1859) 591.
[159]Charles
Hodge, “General Assembly” BRPR 31.3 (July, 1859) 592.
[160]EDM,
“Reply to the Criticism of the Princeton Review on Dr MacM's Speech” Presbyter
18.51 (September 8, 1859). MacMaster had originally submitted it to the Princeton
Review, but Hodge declined to publish it on the grounds that the Review
was not the place for such exchanges. Monfort added an editorial note that
complained that MacMaster was giving up the distinction between slavery and
slaveholding–which Monfort still found essential. MacMaster’s failure to
distinguish between “real estate” and “chattels” is somewhat strange for one
who claimed to have thoroughly studied the southern slave codes.
[161]Whitmarsh,
“Dr. Rice on Slavery,” Presbyter 19.19 (January 26, 1860).
[162]“Dr
Rice's Lectures on Slavery,” Presbyter 19.27 (March 22, 1860) 106.
[163]“Dr
Rice on Slavery” PH 29.35 (March 1, 1860).
[164]PH
29.37 (March 15, 1860).
[165]“Presbyterian
Expositor,” Presbyter 19.17 (Jan 12, 1860).
[166]While as late as 1855 the Presbyterian Banner had insisted that since the Constitution left slavery to the states, it refrain from agitating on slavery, [Editorial, “American Slavery,” PB 4.1 (Sept 29, 1855)], by 1860 David McKinney had finally had enough of the southern proslavery rhetoric. When the Central Presbyterian declared that the church did not have the right to interfere with slavery because slavery was a civil relation, McKinney could not help but ask what they meant by “civil relation.” He retorted that
if slavery is the carrying out of that law by the master--ruling his servant; giving him no right in nor control over his person, time, or the fruits of his toil; selling from him his children; into distant and perpetual bondage; denying him the sacredness of marriage; separating him from the woman whom he claims as his wife, by selling the one or the other to a far-off master; preventing him from learning to read, and so shutting him out from a perusal of God's Word and from all the joy and edification which comes from the glorious arts of writing and printing; and keeping him from worship, or restricting his worship according to the master's whim and pleasure--if this is slavery, then we say again, the Church has a right to interfere with slavery. Not only has she the right, but she is bound to interfere with such iniquity and oppression.
The Central Presbyterian had objected that McKinney’s
view would turn “the Church into an umpire to decide on the expediency or
legitimacy not only of slavery, but of all other civil institutions. It was bad
enough when the ecclesiastical was subordinate to the civil. But
it is downright Popery in its most objectionable form, when it is reversed as
the Banner would reverse it, by giving the Church the right to interfere
with a civil institution.” But now McKinney replied that if “man by his
institutions, should annul God's law,” then it was incumbent upon the church to
say something. McKinney, “What Does it Mean?” Presbyterian Banner 8.38
(June 9, 1860).
[167]Rice’s
health was broken and his doctors assured him that the triple load would soon
kill him. In 1869, Rice returned to Missouri to preside over Westminster
College–the literary and theological institution of the independent Synod of
Missouri (from 1870-1874 the only purely Old School church in the United
States). When the Missouri Synod finally entered the Southern Presbyterian
Church, he returned to the northern Assembly, spending his final years teaching
theology at Danville Theological Seminary (1874-77). When Rice left Chicago,
Cyrus McCormick sold his interest in both of the city’s Democratic political papers,
declined to continue supporting the Presbyterian Expositor, and spent
most of the war living in New York, attending Fifth Avenue Church as well. A.
H., “Letter from Illinois,” Presbyterian 31.17 (April 27, 1861) 66. As
for their friends and colleagues in Chicago, both Willis Lord and Charles
Spring voted for the Spring Resolutions at the 1861 General Assembly. They were
conservative Republicans, as were most of McCormick’s friends, lawyers, and
office employees (while McCormick did not apply a political test to his
business relations, he did surround himself with Presbyterians (Hutchinson,
II:25, 39). The Rev. Fielding N. Ewing, a close friend of McCormick’s, appears
to have been one of the few Democrats around McCormick, revealed by Ewing’s
support for Vallandigham (28).
[168]One
of the most significant exceptions was E. D. MacMaster, “The Princeton Review
on the State of the Country,” Presbyter 20.21 (February 14, 1861) 81.
[169]“Rev.
Dr. E. D. MacMaster” Presbyter (December 19, 1866); cf. “Rev. Dr.
E. D. MacMaster” Presbyter (June 20, 1866).
[170]
After a long, ugly attempt by MacMaster’s friends to wrest McCormick’s money
for MacMaster’s purposes, the General Assembly returned the seminary to the
control of Rice’s old friends–just in time for the Old School/New School
reunion of 1869. For the Seminary controversy, see also Hutchinson, II:
chapters 6-7. Hutchinson notes that McCormick admired MacMaster’s integrity and
contributed towards MacMaster’s monument at Xenia, Ohio. (II:217).