THE founders of the Puritan commonwealths of New England were the only class among the early settlers of America who were politically self-conscious. The type of society which sprang up in the middle and southern colonies was almost wholly the product of physical environment and of tradition. The Puritans, to be sure, brought with them the common law and the institutions of local government to which they had been accustomed at home. They were subject to the influences of frontier life and of comparative isolation upon a remote continent. But in addition to that they were the advocates of a definite religious system, which they came to the new world to put into practice. That this was their purpose they never lost an opportunity to declare. So important did this system seem to them that they made all interests, social and political, contribute to its maintenance and advancement. About it centred thought and effort; from it proceeded theory and policy. Relations with the home government, intercourse with the neighboring colonies, conduct towards immigrants, the bestowment and withdrawal of citizenship, the political and social life of town and commonwealth in all its phases, were ultimately determined by their bearing on the supreme question the

maintenance of the Puritan system of belief. In the carrying out of this policy the clergy took a leading part, both as writers and as counsellors. Their influence upon society during the first generation after the settlement of New England it is difficult to overestimate. It was during that time that the first steps were taken towards the development of American democracy in its earliest phase. Among the laymen who co-operated with the Puritan clergy there appeared considerable statesmanlike talent. The magistrates of New England, especially those of Massachusetts, showed much skill in handling the practical problems of the state. In this work the clergy shared, exhibiting in some cases conspicuous ability. Though the stage on which they played their parts was small, the task they had set themselves was a delicate one and on its successful performance hung, in their opinion, the interests of Christendom.

     But the Puritan clergy were more than practical politicians; they were in many cases political writers and thinkers as well, the first generation of such who have lived on American soil. We shall not find that they produced treatises on political science; but they did write many elaborate works on church government. During the present century few books on that subject have been written in the United States, and when such do appear they are almost without interest to the student of politics. But it was not so in the seventeenth century, either here or in Europe. Then questions of faith and of ecclesiastical organization were central and paramount. The mediæval bonds within which the state had been confined were broken, but they had not entirely fallen away. Political and religious beliefs were bound up together. State and church were believed by all except a few to be organically connected. Demand for political reorganization was then the outgrowth of religious rather than of industrial need. Out of religious struggles political tendencies were being evolved. To works on religious polemics we must go to find the beginnings of American political literature. These together with the important public documents of the time are the storehouses of the ideas which guided the Puritans in their work.

     But the New England Puritans did not invent the political

theories to which they gave expression, any more than they did the system of theology which they defended. They were not original in either case. They were simply a part of a great movement, the wing of an army. The essentials of their creed, the political ideas which they hoped to realize, they brought with them across the ocean. Therefore it will not suffice to study them in their isolation. They must be viewed in connection with that whole phase of historic development to which they belong. An effort must be made to acquaint oneself with the stock of political ideas they brought with them from the mother country; the changes to which these were subjected in New England must be examined; and lastly, the reflex influence, if any, which the colonists were able to exert upon their friends in England, must be noted.

     Calvin’s Institutes was the chief religious and political textbook of the English Puritans. By Calvin they were led back to the Bible, and from his standpoint they viewed the history of the early church. As a religious sect they followed their leader very closely; and when circumstances made them a political party, the courses of policy which they followed were wholly consistent with the principles to be found in the works of the Genevan reformer. Calvin was lawyer and theologian combined. His system of thought was developed and stated with the logical precision characteristic of his nation. From the Latin Fathers he drew the doctrine of the sovereignty of God and he followed it relentlessly to its conclusion. The Bible, containing the law of God, was to be accepted as an authority from the utterances of which there was no appeal. To the commands of Christ and the apostles, therein set forth, the strictest obedience must be given.¹ At the same time full validity was claimed for precedents drawn from the Mosaic system. Calvin was at war with tradition, and therefore in a way was a rationalist in spite of himself. He could not tolerate institutional Christianity. He would banish everything which thrust itself between the soul of

the individual worshipper and God. According to his conception the church was a community of believers, by which the commands of God were obeyed in the preaching of the word and the administering of the sacraments, and to which no persons should find admission until their piety had been subjected to rigorous tests.¹ The life of each member was constantly exposed to the scrutiny and criticism of others. The strictest discipline too was enforced. All were compelled to prove, so far as by human evidence it was possible, that they were the elect of God.² Calvin and his followers tried to leaven society with these doctrines, and to make it conform as closely as possible to their ideal.

     The organization of such a church could hardly, fail in theory to be democratic. Calvin taught that Christ was the true sovereign of the church, but that under him, the clergy was an official class, a ministry, whose authority came from the church itself.³ To the church Christ committed the power of the keys. Its members, united by covenant, chose the ministry and inflicted excommunication. But discipline and the orthodox principles of the faith must be maintained. Calvin had an autocrat’s aversion to disorder and anarchy. Under his system, freedom of thought and practice was strictly limited. Therefore it was necessary to bestow large power upon the clergy. In this way a strong aristocratic tendency was introduced, which might, if the progress of the system were resisted, become predominant.

     The political questions which most interested the reformers turned upon the relation between church and state. The mediæval theory respecting that subject was by them subjected to revision. Incidentally to that arose the discussion of the origin of the state, of forms of government and of the possibility of resistance to established authority. Calvin’s views concerning the state were in harmony with his theory of church government. He taught that both state and church were of divine origin. Like the mediæval theologians, he compared the one to the body, the other to the soul of man. This implied that, though the two have different functions, an organic connection

exists between them. It is the work of the church to create a perfect Christian society, and the state must furnish the necessary external conditions.¹

     The former [the church] in some measure begins the heavenly kingdom in us even now upon earth . . .; while to the latter [the state] it is assigned, so long as we live among men, to foster and maintain the external worship of God, to defend sound doctrine and the condition of the church, to adapt our conduct to human society, to form our manners to civil justice, to conciliate us to each other, to cherish common peace and tranquillity.

     To Calvin’s mind, then, the sphere of the church was infinitely superior to that of the state. The issues, toward the attainment of which he labored, were of a higher and more permanent character. But they could not be reached without the assistance of the state. Hence Calvin defended governments against the assaults of Antinomians, declaring that lawful magistrates were divinely commissioned, that their work was a part of the plan of Providence, and that to resist them was to attack the sovereignty of God. His correspondence with the Huguenot leaders in France shows that, when the religious war broke out there, he strongly opposed resistance to the government,² though it was controlled by the Guise faction. In the Institutes he had said

     Let no man here deceive himself, since he cannot resist the magistrates without resisting God. . . . But if we have respect to the word of God, it will lead us further, and make us subject not only to the authority of those princes who honestly and faithfully perform their duty toward us, but to all princes, by whatever means they have so become, although there is nothing they less perform than the duty of princes. . . . All alike possess that sacred majesty with which he [Christ] has invested lawful power.³

     In these passages Calvin returned fully to the doctrine of the New Testament. But he, like the apostles, set a limit to the duty of obedience. It must not extend to those things which

are incompatible with obedience to God.¹ Speaking of the obligation of the Christian to obey laws which impose ceremonies of purely human origin he says: “The restraint thus laid on the conscience is unlawful. Our consciences have not to do with men, but with God only.” As a result of this principle he claims that human laws, being means to an end, do not properly bind the conscience. The realm of conscience lies wholly out of reach of any except divine legislation. It is necessary to obey just human laws; but those which impose rites that form no part of the true worship of God carry no obligation with them. In this spirit he interpreted the famous passage of Paul, Romans xiii. Again he says:

     We are subject to the men who rule over us, but subject only in the Lord. If they command anything against him, let us not pay the least regard to it, nor be moved by all the dignity which they possess as magistrates a dignity to which no injury is done when it is subordinated to the special and truly supreme power of God.²

In passages such as these Calvin probably contemplated only passive resistance, but in the minds of men smarting under persecution the idea would naturally be extended much further. The qualifications by which the reformer sought to limit the principle would be speedily swept away.

     Although Calvin affirmed that an intimate connection existed between church and state, he was neither a papist nor an Erastian. He was opposed to both Hildebrand and Zwingli. The work of the church was, he thought, of a nature so exalted that the state could not perform it;³ neither should the clergy abandon their high functions to undertake the duties of magistrates. Still, though each institution kept within its own sphere, the two must not be divorced. Religion, he taught, is the basis of public morality. “No polity can be successfully established unless piety be its first care.” Hence the state needs the support of the church, for from the teachings of the latter comes the moral health without which successful government is impossible. In the name of public order and for the security of property he

would have the state punish idolatry, blasphemy and a long series of offences against religion. He began by affirming that the functions of state and church were radically different; but before the discussion closed he taught that it was the duty of the magistrate to enforce obedience to both tables of the law. The logical result of the first position is universal toleration; the second principle, if carried into practice, leads to the establishment of a state church with the punishment of non-conformity. How the two doctrines were to be reconciled, Calvin did not attempt to show. In the sixteenth century their reconciliation was impossible; and Calvin, though he had taken one step forward, still fully shared in the persecuting spirit of his time. The idea of moral and scientific development was foreign to his mind. The system of doctrine which he formulated soon after his conversion remained essentially unchanged throughout his life.¹ Equally fixed and unchangeable appeared the world to his mind. Though he was starting a movement which was to extend over two continents and accomplish results of the greatest importance, he thought it possible to confine the thought of the world within the limits of one system, and by a long course of severe training to banish dissent.

     Among the forms of government Calvin preferred aristocracy,² or better still a combination of that with democracy. He was by nature an aristocrat, and on all occasions showed his jealousy of purely democratic rule.³ When it became his duty to prepare a civil constitution for Geneva, he gave the chief power to the Council of Syndics, which consisted of twenty-four members, only four of whom were chosen by direct vote of the citizens. In addition he contrived a most artificial scheme for excluding the people from all direct share in the government. To this, however, he was forced by the necessities of the situation. Of monarchy, Calvin repeatedly expressed an unfavorable opinion. He thought it very liable to degenerate into tyranny.

Kings were much more likely to cultivate the worst than the best qualities. Davids were much less numerous among them than Sauls and Rehoboams. There was no place in Calvin’s system for the recognition of monarchy by divine right. That theory was totally inconsistent with his views. In his opinion, monarchy should guarantee popular liberty, and magistrates should be appointed to check the excesses of the king.

     Such in outline was Calvin’s system of belief, so far as it had a political bearing. Within it several divergent tendencies can be seen. Viewed from one standpoint, his doctrine implied the separation of church from state; yet over against this stood the necessity of their indissoluble union. Neither could survive without the support of the other. The one idea seems to open the way toward toleration, but it is speedily closed again by the necessity of suppressing heresy and all deviation from a strict moral and religious code. The church becomes supreme over the state and the papal system is re-established, though modified in form. The tendency toward rationalism is checked by the demand that allegiance be sworn to the text of Scripture, as interpreted by unchanging canons of criticism. Finally, the tendency toward democracy in ecclesiastical and civil government is counterbalanced by the necessity for the maintenance of order and authority. Owing partly to its inherent character and partly to the resistance it met with from Rome, Calvinism became a much stronger political force than Lutheranism. It entered as a powerful leaven into the thought of the time; everywhere it was arrayed against absolutism and on the side of limited or popular government.

     When Calvin undertook to establish a model Christian commonwealth at Geneva,¹ he was forced by the difficulties of the task to abandon in practice those parts of his theory which tended most toward freedom of development. So great was the resistance offered to his plans by the pleasure-loving populace of the city, that it was safe to bestow political power only on the few who could be trusted. The same was true in the church. The clergy, who were in sympathy with the reformers

and who, with the presbyters, formed the Consistory, were subject in the exercise of their powers to practically no restraint from the congregations. In fact, Calvin himself attended and controlled most of their deliberations. He drew up both the civil and the religious code, and procured their acceptance by the city. After they went into operation he devoted himself to the work of enforcing obedience. Offences moral and civil, private and public, were classed together and punished with the greatest severity. The functions of church and state were wholly confounded. Heretics were condemned and handed over to the magistrates for execution. All the institutions of society—art, education, law, industry, family life—were as far as possible made to bend to ecclesiastical interests. The result was that instead of toleration, the most extreme intolerance prevailed; instead of the separation of church from state being realized, the church became supreme and a theocracy was established, at the head of which, as its human representative, stood Calvin himself. Though he had been trained to the civil law, he carried into execution a system which, in spirit and often in the very letter, was a reproduction of the Mosaic code.

     Calvin’s work at Geneva was an experiment. It was the first attempt to establish an ideal Christian commonwealth, a state based upon the literal interpretation and application of God’s word. Though it was only partially successful, it commanded the attention of the Protestant world. Calvinists everywhere in France, Holland and the British Isles viewed it with admiration. Before the close of the sixteenth century Calvin’s system of thought and policy gained a controlling influence over European Protestantism. What use was made of its underlying ideas by those who led the reform party among English-speaking peoples? In what combinations do the different tendencies appear among them?¹

     John Knox taught the doctrine of resistance to tyrants in

the most emphatic manner. His instructor, John Muir, of the University of St. Andrews, held that kings derived their power from the people, could be controlled by them, and, if tyrannical, might be deposed.¹ Knox accepted this doctrine and included under the term tyrant all magistrates who attempted to suppress the Calvinistic system of worship. Manifest idolators, i.e. Catholics, and wicked persons no oath or promise could bind a people to obey. By those who had elected them they should be deposed and punished.² Thus Knox wrote in 1556. In 1558, commenting on the letter which two years before he had written to the Regent Mary, he says

     I answer with the prophet Isaiah, that all is not reputed before God sedition and conjuration which the foolish multitude so estimateth: neither yet is every tumult and breach of public order contrary to God’s commandments.

     I fear not to affirm that it had been the duty of the nobility, judges, rulers and people of England to have resisted and gainstanded Mary, their queen, with all the sort of her idolatrous priests, together with all such as shall have assisted her, when that she and they openly began to suppress Christ’s gospel . . . [In such a case] no privilege granted against the ordinances and statutes of God is to be observed, although all councils and men on earth have appointed the same.

     George Buchanan, afterwards the tutor of James VI, was a fellow-pupil with Knox at St. Andrews. He became the leading political theorist among the Scotch Presbyterians. But as he had imbibed freely of the new learning, many of his forms of thought were drawn from the political philosophers of antiquity.

In his work De jute regni and Scotos¹ (1580) he set forth in the form of a dialogue his theory of the origin and character of monarchical government. He was concerned chiefly with Scotland, but it was also his express desire to give his argument a wide application. Like Aristotle, he found the origin of states to be in the social nature of man. The establishment of governments for these states was effected by means of compact. Kings were thus created by the people, and laws provided to guide and restrain them in their rule. From this the conclusion was drawn that the monarchical office exists for the public good, and its power is in no sense absolute. Even so-called hereditary monarchs, like those of Scotland, are bound by agreements made long ago with the people to obey the laws. Such compact is renewed whenever the coronation oath is taken. Kings and magistrates who govern according to law are to be obeyed, but the rule of a tyrant, who extorts obedience by force, is to be thrown off by the people at the first opportunity. If necessary, such rulers must be put to death. It was argued that there was nothing in the Bible inconsistent with this doctrine. Numerous examples were cited from ancient history and Scotch annals in support of it. Though the Scots had so often dethroned their kings, it did not prove, the author claimed, that they were seditious or given to rebellion.

     These opinions suited well the spirit of the Scotch nobility. Under their influence, and without such provocation as the Calvinists of France and the Netherlands suffered, occurred the uprisings against the Regent Mary and her successors which resulted in the establishment of Presbyterianism. The doctrines reappear in the later struggle between the English crown and the Scotch church. They underlie the successive covenants which were agreed to by the Scotch nation and its English allies. The possibility of resistance to magistrates which Calvin had suggested, had become a reality. Amid persecution and violent party strife, theory and fact had reacted upon each other until both had developed in ways never contemplated

by the early reformers. Still the Protestant theory which they formulated contained the germs of these later results. Knox and his followers always justified their policy by referring to the supreme obligation which lay upon their consciences, viz., obedience to the command of God.

     The Presbyterians of Scotland and England were content with the establishment of an aristocratic system in church and state. The object of their efforts in Scotland was to transfer the control of civil and ecclesiastical affairs from the monarch to the estates. The same was true in England. Buchanan gave expression to the modern democratic theory of government. In later years Rutherford and others stated it much more definitely. But these authors understood by “the people” only the nobles, the ministers and the burgesses. It remained for later thinkers to extend the conception of the politically active nation until it should include all citizens. In ecclesiastical affairs also the Presbyterians were equally averse to a democratic form of government. Their system was a rigid aristocracy. It gave to the presbyteries, synods and assemblies well-nigh absolute control over the doctrine and discipline of the church. It was a reproduction, so far as circumstances would permit, of the system which Calvin had established at Geneva.

     In the matter of toleration, also, the Scotch adopted the same phase of the Calvinistic polity. Knox and his disciples, from Cartwright to Prynne,¹ believed in the protection of the church by the state, in the establishment of Presbyterianism as a state religion, and in the punishment of heretics² by the civil power. Their writings could be quoted at almost any length to prove this. All that Calvin had said about the union of church and state and the defence of the true faith by the secular arm, they made their own. They were able to carry it into practice in Scotland. During and after the civil war the same was

attempted in England, but without success. The nation emphatically refused to substitute the rule of presbyters for that of its bishops.¹

     But Calvinism contained, as we have seen, another tendency, and this in due time appeared among its English adherents. After 1570 Elizabeth, aided by Whitgift, undertook to suppress non-conformity in England. The Court of High Commission was organized, and strict inquiry was made into the practices of the clergy with the view of bringing “prophesyings” and all other deviations from the established order to an end. The effort was successful; but before opposition ceased Browne and Barrow had uttered their protests, and the former had proclaimed the doctrine of the total separation of church from state. The magistrates, said he, “have no ecclesiastical authority at all, but only as other Christians, if so be they be Christians.” They should “rule the commonwealth in all outward justice,” but let the church rule in spiritual matters. Barrow and his followers acknowledged the authority of the Queen in civil affairs, but in ecclesiastical would be subject only to the word of God. The prince, as a member of the church, must submit to spiritual censure, like any other persons. But they adhered to the Presbyterian opinion that the magistrate should compel attendance upon public worship. Browne affirmed that it was conscience, and not the power of man, which led to the growth of Christ’s kingdom. No effort therefore should be made “to compel religion, to plant churches by power, to force a submission to ecclesiastical government by laws and penalties”; but the church should be ruled “in a spiritual wise,” by “a lively law preached and not by a civil law written.” Thus by Browne’s writings religious toleration was first effectively proclaimed in England. With it went also separation from the Church of England and refusal to commune with it, so long as the episcopal office, vestments and ceremonial,

the Book of Common Prayer and other badges of popery were retained. Above all it was necessary that the membership of the church should be purged and that those should be excluded who did not show personal piety. The Calvinistic conception of the church in its strictest and simplest form was brought again to the front. The independent local body was made the seat of power, and the machinery of government provided for it was the simplest possible. “The church,” said Browne, “is a company or number of Christians or believers, which by a willing covenant made with their God are under the government of God and Christ.”¹ The covenant with God should be supplemented by a covenant between the members and by the use of the sacraments. “The church government is the lordship of Christ, . . . whereby his people obey to his will and have mutual uses of their graces and callings to further their godliness and welfare.” This implied a democratic form of church government. That all officers must be chosen by the church was taught by both Browne and Barrow, but the latter assigned large powers to the clergy and elders. So great in the eyes of these early Separatists appeared the corruption and intolerance of the establishment that they were thrown back upon the individual whom it neglected. Their attention was fixed upon his dangers and sufferings, and therefore upon his value and the necessity that his Christian life be nourished and kept pure. He should be considered apart from all the accessories of social position and solely with reference to his piety. If found worthy of church membership, he became thereby “a king, a priest and a prophet under Christ, to uphold and further the kingdom of God and break and destroy the kingdom of Antichrist and of Satan.”

     This theory of the organization of the individual church, supplemented by the possible introduction of synods, was adopted by the Independents, who appear early in the reign of James I. It was maintained by Smith, Ainsworth and Robinson, who fled to Holland, and by Jacobs, who remained in England. Some of these advocated total separation, others would continue fellowship with adherents of the Anglican church who still lived a

genuine Christian life. Smith became the founder of the Baptist sect, which at once adopted the Independent form of church government. Some of the early Baptists proclaimed the doctrine of universal toleration.¹ To this Robinson inclined, though he did not adopt it. The prevalent theory among the Separatists resident in Holland was that the state for its own sake must see that a pure worship was maintained, that all attended public religious exercises and that gross offences against religion were punished.²

     Browne had proclaimed in an imperfect form the democratic theory of government.³ He said that magistrates received their authority “by the consent or choice of the people,” though birth and succession were also acknowledged as sources. The object of magistracy he declared to be the execution of laws made by public agreement, and the maintenance of the right, welfare and honor of the commonwealth. Barrow, Penry and their associates attached to their idea of allegiance the reservation that laws conflicting with the word of God were not binding. Penry, in his examination before the High Commission, frankly avowed the principle of contract as that on which the monarchy was based, and claimed that the Queen was bound by it to grant religious liberty to her subjects.⁴ In the reign of James I the Separatists were charged with holding democratic views and with hostility to the English government. Both charges they expressly repudiated. Ainsworth said that they believed not in democracy, and thought it not necessary, even though they had it in the church, to introduce it in the state

also. Robinson declared that they honored the Kingdom of England “above all the states in the world,” and “would thankfully embrace the meanest corner of it, at the extremest conditions of any people in the kingdom.” It was the church alone which they accounted Babylon, and from which they separated.

     So the matter stood when the Puritan migration to America began. The first to go were the members of the Separatist wing of the Puritans. Let us note how religious views and conditions reacted upon their political life.

     The church at Leyden, when it opened negotiations with the Virginia company respecting a place of settlement, added to its religious functions the character of a business corporation. It sent agents to England to represent its interests there. Robinson himself was commissioned by it to negotiate with the Dutch West India company. The reports of these agents were received and acted on by the church, the same body, organized in the same way, as that which met for worship on the Sabbath. When they had resolved to migrate to New England, this congregation formed a joint stock company with the merchant adventurers at London. To this organization for religious and mercantile objects, political functions were added when the compact was signed in the cabin of the Mayflower. Then that part of the church of Leyden which migrated to America became a state, which, though it recognized the supremacy of the King, was for all immediate purposes independent. That state was formed precisely upon the model of the church;, it was the politically active congregation. Both were expressly based on compact, or mutual consent; both were pure democracies. The same individuals were leaders in both. Still, religious objects lay at the foundation of the enterprise. The Pilgrims came to New England not primarily to establish a democratic state, but to put into practical operation a democratic ecclesiastical polity. But the latter purpose so dominated their effort as, under the natural conditions which surrounded them, to bring everything else into harmony with itself. For several years community of property was maintained at New Plymouth. Then the control of industrial interests was allowed to pass into the hands of

individuals, though the General Court still retained an indefinite right of supervision. But so long as Plymouth colony remained independent, it was one of the chief objects of the government to keep the forms of worship pure. This necessitated a certain deviation from the principles of democracy. Though no law was passed which excluded householders who were not church members from the franchise, still only those could become householders who obtained the approval of the governor and his council. In spite of this, however, the tendency and spirit of the colony were so strongly democratic that, as the religious motive lost force, the restrictions it imposed on political equality and freedom necessarily disappeared, and approximation was made toward a perfect democracy. Alliance with Massachusetts checked, but could not stop development in this direction.¹

     The settlers of Massachusetts left England just as the Puritans were becoming a political party. As soon as they arrived at Salem, they adopted the Independent form of church government. The members of the congregation signed a covenant and, under the power thus assumed, elected their officers. The same course was followed in the formation of all the other churches. The congregation at New Plymouth was at once recognized as a lawful church. Though the Puritans of Massachusetts still claimed to hold communion with the Church of England, connection between the two bodies practically ceased. The ministers who were driven from England by the measures of Laud became Independent as soon as they reached America. They were men whose characters and attainments alone would have given them great influence; but the fact that they and the magistrates were fully agreed that the main object of the colony should be to uphold the Puritan faith and to form a society in harmony therewith, greatly increased their power. The Puritan. clergy believed that their form of church government was of divine origin. As soon as they had settled in America they began to expound it in sermon and treatise. Cotton, Hooker,

Richard Mather, Eliot and Davenport led in this discussion which lasted for half a century. All the ministers took some share in it. Careful expositions of their polity were composed under the authority of the clergy as a whole and sent to England. In these apologies and treatises the process of forming the individual church was described in the greatest detail. Of this the covenant was the central idea.¹ They described and analyzed the obligations arising from it with the greatest scholastic ingenuity. The election of ministers and elders by the congregation, and the powers of each, were dwelt upon at equal length. Finally the theory of censure and excommunication, the primitive power of the church, was elaborated. In their views concerning church government, the New England Puritans occupied an intermediate position between the Presbyterians and the extreme Separatists. They never tired of repeating the idea of Robinson, that in the visible church there is an aristocratic and a democratic element, viz., the officers and the congregation. In the decision of any question both these elements should have a voice. The elders were given large discretionary and administrative powers to be used for the discipline and guidance of the whole. Soon it was found that some sort of co-operation between the churches was necessary. Plans for federal union were discussed until they took shape in the calling of occasional synods, which adopted a creed and platform of discipline, and expressed the consensus of the churches upon important theological questions. Though the influence of the

clergy was great, this was in its essence a federal-republican system of church government. The elements of it were derived both from the Mosaic and the apostolic systems. Writers drew freely upon both for precedents. But the spirit shown in the administration of the system was more Jewish than Christian.¹ The men who devised and upheld this system of church government were also the political leaders of New England. Their theories about divine sovereignty and ecclesiastical rule naturally gave color to their views about politics. Had it been otherwise, they would not have been Calvinists. Calvin aimed to subdue the whole man to God. In the old world, because of the inertia of established institutions, it had not been possible for Calvinists to establish their ideal state. In America such obstacles did not exist, and political institutions quickly adapted themselves to the ideas of the men for whom they were formed. Soon after the emigrants left England for Massachusetts, White, the Puritan minister of Dorchester, said in his Planters’ Plea, that under the new conditions in America both religious and political differences might arise. One of those new conditions was religious liberty. In the mind of the Puritan that involved the creation of a democracy, though it might be imperfect in form. In an anonymous but very important publication,² issued in 1629, it was said that a form of government different from that of Virginia would be established.

     The political theory which first came to the front in Massachusetts and which dominated its policy for half a century was moderately aristocratic. When in 1634 Lords Say, Brooke and others proposed to settle in New England, if a nobility could be established there, it was admitted in the reply that an aristocracy was both natural and Scriptural. Cotton, in a personal letter accompanying the reply, said: “Democracy I

do not conceive that ever God did ordain as a fit government, either for church or commonwealth.”¹ The proposal was rejected, not from fear of a nobility, but because one of its conditions was that persons who were not church members should be admitted to citizenship. Winthrop wrote to Hooker in 1638 that it was unsafe to give political power to the people, because “the best part is always the least, and of that best part the wiser part is always the lesser.”² Again, in the heat of the struggle over the right of the magistrate to negative the resolutions of the deputies (1644), Winthrop declared strongly against democracy. He said that there was no warrant for it in Scripture, and that among most nations it was “accounted the meanest and the worst of all forms of government.” It was “branded with reproachful epithets . . .; and historians do record that it hath been always of least continuance and full of troubles.” Still Winthrop believed that power must be limited by constitutions or political covenants, similar to those existing between God and man.³ He claimed that the government of Massachusetts was not arbitrary and that no government should be so.⁴ He believed that the freemen should be the source of political power and should make their influence felt by means of elections and representatives. But he also argued that large administrative power and a share in legislation should be given to the magistrates, to be used for the promotion of religion and. the public good. Liberty, he believed, was based on authority, and involved only the permission to do that “which is good, just and honest.”⁵ The above statements must be understood as directed against extreme democracy, the admission of all adult males to equal political rights, irrespective of property or creed. Such a policy would probably have resulted in the overthrow of many of the Puritan institutions. Hence

Winthrop opposed it. But so strong was the current about him, that, in spite of his aristocratic preferences, he was forced to be a republican in practical life.

     The leaders among the clergy thoroughly agreed with the views of the governor, though their opinions were influenced more than his by the Mosaic traditions. An authoritative statement of their views was made in the Model of Church and Civil Power,¹ written probably by Richard Mather and sent, with the approval of the other ministers, to the Salem church during the dispute with Roger Williams. “In a free state,” they say, meaning Massachusetts, “no magistrate hath power over the bodies, goods, lands, liberties of a free people, but by their free consent.” After making this thoroughly democratic assertion, they go on to state what they consider to be the absolute limit to the power both of the magistrate and the people. “And as all free men are only stewards of God, they may not give the magistrate power over these things as they please, but as God pleases. Therefore the magistrate’s power is limited by the only perfect rule of the word of God.” By the same rule, in their opinion, was the legislative power of the representatives of the people limited. It was necessary to go back of the simple will of the legislator to find the reason of laws. A right reason, or full justification of them, could be found only when they expressed the will of God. Here we have again the Calvinistic idea of the Biblical commonwealth, or of democracy regulated and modified by the necessity of upholding a divinely ordered ecclesiastical system. The legal precedents of such a state would not be drawn exclusively from England, but also from Geneva and the ancient polity of the Jews. It was held that such laws from the Mosaic code as were found useful, were obligatory in New England and should be put in force.² The leaders of Massachusetts, for the sake of their religion, established and defended an aristocratic system

of government in church and state, but the substratum of their thought was democratic.

     The Massachusetts theory of the relation between church and state was thoroughly Calvinistic. In the document referred to above, as well as in all their other writings, it was stated substantially as follows. State and church are distinct in the sense that they work for different objects, and are controlled by different persons. The end of the state is to preserve “external and temporal peace,” and that of the church to “maintain internal and spiritual peace.” The work of both is to be done “in all godliness and honesty.” Both are to be guided by the rules of the Word. The church is to promote holiness and thus to be the bulwark of the state. The state in return is to give “free passage” to the gospel. This it must do by divinely ordered laws concerning religion. It must punish sedition, contempt of authority in the church, heresy, blasphemy, slander, etc., though in most cases not until the offender had been “dealt with in a church way.” The magistrate should also compel all to hear the Word, encourage people to join the church and disperse all irregular assemblies, because they “destroy the peace of the churches” and dissolve the continuity of the state. They may also compel those who hear the Word to support its ministers, and establish and control schools for furnishing the church with educated pastors. It is their duty also to reform the corrupted worship of God, and to defend with the sword the pure worship. Still, they have no authority to interfere in the election of church officers, to perform any ecclesiastical functions or to establish anything but a pure form of worship. Finally, all freemen should be church members, and magistrates should be chosen exclusively from them.

     Such was the statement in theoretical form of what in Massachusetts was fully carried into practice. We find, as in Geneva, a merely formal distinction between the functions of the church and those of the state, which amid the stress of circumstances is quickly lost sight of, and in its place appears an identification of the two. In Massachusetts the ecclesiastical did not so completely

overmaster the political as at Geneva, but it was chiefly because the resistance to the policy of the clergy was not so great. As it was, however, until about 1660 the theocratic element distinctly predominated. Every public question had its religious bearing, and in most cases that aspect attracted the chief attention. When any such case came before the magistrates or the General Court, the advice of the clergy was sought and almost invariably followed. The magistrates, with an occasional exception, were orthodox, and the ministers could count upon a majority among the deputies. The clergy, in an extra-legal capacity, acted as a board of referees on important questions of legislation, judicature and practical policy. They were consulted about relations with the Indians and with the mother country. Their advice was sought on the question of the distribution of power between the magistrates and the deputies. They prepared elaborate statements respecting the form of the Massachusetts government and the relations of its several parts. To the clergymen was assigned the task of preparing the first draft of laws for the colony. Sermons, whether delivered before the General Court or elsewhere; might at any time have a political bearing and convey direct political instruction. Like the ecclesiastics of the middle age, the ministers of New England were statesmen and political leaders. No affair of government was indifferent to them. With the magistrates, they constituted for half a century the governing class in Massachusetts the oligarchy which shaped its policy and growth. They upheld the church and commonwealth against threats of attacks by the home governments, the efforts of Gorges and Mason, the complaints and agitations of schismatics. They formed the New England Confederacy, and brought the settlements of New Hampshire beneath their control. They established a system of common and higher education and the other social institutions which contributed to that self-denying and heroic, but cheerless, Puritan life. As at Geneva the result was a narrow, forced and one-sided development. But there were other tendencies even in the system itself which were destined to develop until they

swept away the oligarchy and the type of society which it had established.¹

     Transfer the idea of compact from ecclesiastical to political relations, and we have the underlying thought which is to be found in all the references made to government by the Puritan divines. The analogy between the gathering of a church and the formation of a corporation or state was a favorite one with them. In 1639 the clergy said: “Every city is united by some covenant among themselves; the citizens are received into jus civitatis, or right of city privileges by some oath.”² So it is in the church. Again they argue that all voluntary relations, as those between husband and wife, master and servant, prince and subject, are based on covenant or agreement. By this the proportion of burdens or advantages which each party shall receive is determined. In this way churches must be formed. The same argument was used by Increase Mather.³ Hooker developed the thought most clearly and returned to it again and again.⁴

     Amongst such [he says] who by no impression of nature, no rule of providence, no appointment of God or man, have power each. over other, there must of necessity be a mutual agreement, . . . before by any rule of God they have any right or power, or can exercise either, each toward the other. This appears in all covenants betwixt prince and people, husband and wife, master and servants, and most palpable is the expression of this in all confederations and corporations.

Obedience, he holds, is not obligatory in any of these relations until after full agreement. He also points out the close analogy between the activity of the individual in the church and in the commonwealth. We shall meet Hooker and his views again.

     Rev. John Eliot, the apostle to the Indians, undoubtedly spoke the whole mind of the Puritan ministry when he said, in the opening sentences of his Christian Commonwealth:¹

     It is the commandment of the Lord that a people should enter into covenant with the Lord and become his people, even in their civil society, as well as in their church society. Whereby they submit themselves to be ruled by the Lord in all things, receiving from him both the platform of their government and all their laws.

After giving the substance of the church covenant, he continues:

     So now they do outwardly and solemnly, with the rest of God’s people, join together so to do in their civil polity, receiving from the Lord both the platform of their civil government, as it is set down in the Holy Scriptures, and also all their laws, which they resolve through his grace to fetch out of the word of God.

Here the divine origin of both state and church is affirmed, with the conclusion, to which the Puritans had closely approximated in practice, that the two should agree in form. The treatise was chiefly occupied with sketching the outline of an ideal commonwealth suggested by the political organization provided by Moses for the Israelites, while in the desert. The plan was wholly democratic and provided for the choice of magistrates by local groups, as well as by a series of groups increasing in size until they comprised the whole nation. It

was the work of a Puritan idealist whose thoughts ran wholly within Old Testament grooves. Eliot had previously tried to carry his scheme into practice among the converted Indians. When Charles II ascended the English throne, the Massachusetts government suppressed the book, lest it might give offence to the supporters of restored monarchy, and Eliot acknowledged his error in writing it. Still its underlying thought is suggestive.¹

     The democratic tendency which showed itself in some of these utterances appears in conflict with the clergy and magistrates of Massachusetts on various occasions from its settlement to the forfeiture of the charter in 1684. In 1631, the second year of Winthrop’s governorship, the freemen of Watertown refused to pay the sum of £8 levied upon them for the fortification of Newtown, because the court of assistants was only an administrative body, and therefore had no right to levy taxes.² When they were shown that the assistants were chosen by the freemen, and that their power therefore was of a parliamentary nature, the men from Watertown acknowledged their error. But the next year it was enacted that the governor and deputy governor should be chosen by the whole body of freemen, and not, as hitherto, by the assistants.³ Each town was also empowered to choose two men to attend the next court of assistants “about the raising of a public stock, so that what they should agree upon should bind all.”⁴ In 1634 two deputies from each town appeared before the magistrates and demanded the establishment of representative government. Winthrop proposed as a compromise that a committee of deputies from the towns should be appointed yearly to revise the laws and present grievances to the assistants, but not to make new laws. This by no means satisfied the popular demand, and at the next session of the court the representative system was introduced.⁵ The sentiment expressed by Cotton in a sermon preached before this

court, that a magistrate should not be deprived of his office without just cause and trial any more than a person should lose his freehold without due process of law, provoked criticism and was reserved, we are told, for further consideration. In 1636, because of a dispute over the advisability of allowing the Newtown congregation to migrate to Connecticut, the deputies were given powers in legislation equal to those of the assistants.

     The next manifestation of the democratic spirit was the demand for a code of laws. This was persistently urged, until in 1641, after the work of the Long Parliament in England had made it safe, the Body of Liberties was published and went into force. It is significant that all feudal privileges were prohibited by this code, and that in all matters except religion the equality of citizens before the law was recognized.¹ The principles of Magna Charta, as interpreted by English Puritans, were fully incorporated into the legal system of Massachusetts.

     In 1644 the deputies were organized into a separate house. They were now in a position which enabled them vigorously to support the popular course. The impulse toward democracy came not only from the freemen, but from those who, because of religious opinions, had been excluded from active citizenship. The clergy saw that one result of the movement would be the abolition of the religious restriction on the franchise, and united with the magistrates to oppose it. The popular party actually proposed that an agreement be made with the other confederated colonies to extend the privileges of freemen to such as were not church members.² But this proposal was dropped as premature. The whole energy of the party was devoted instead to an effort to procure an abolition of the negative voice of the assistants in legislation, and to limit the discretion of the magistrate in matters of judicature and administration. Hathorne of Salem, the leader of the popular party among the deputies, proposed that fixed penalties be attached by statute to crimes. Through fear of hostilities with the French and Indians the assistants had chosen a special council of war. The legality of

this act was disputed, because it had been done without the consent of the General Court. Hathorne even threatened that the administrative orders of the magistrates would not be obeyed. The object of this policy was to subject the magistrate wholly to the will of one assembly elected by universal suffrage. A heated controversy lasted for months, but the power of the clergy and assistants was too strong to be broken. Though they were upholding Puritan exclusiveness, they were at the same time defending the cause of constitutional republicanism against extreme democracy. They were successful, and prolonged the control of the clerical party for a generation. But so deep became the feeling of opposition to its rule that when, after the Restoration, the Crown interfered in earnest, the Puritan leaders found themselves unsupported by public opinion, and were forced to yield. All freeholders were admitted to full citizenship and the old ecclesiastical policy was abandoned. Thus the aristocratic tendency in New England Puritanism received its deathblow. The way was cleared for the more perfect growth of democratic ideas and institutions.