the hidden balance: religion and the social theories of charles chauncy and jonathan mayhew

The hidden balance

The hidden balanceReligion and the social theories

of Charles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew

JOHN CORRIGANUniversity of Virginia

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The hidden balanceBibliography: p.

1. Sociology, Christian - Massachusetts - History ofdoctrines - 18th century. 2. Chauncy, Charles, 1705-1787.

3. Mayhew, Jonathan, 1720-1766. 4. Puritans -Massachusetts - History - 18th century. 5. Massachusetts -

Church history. I. Title.BT738.C694 1987 261'.092'2 86-33386

ISBN-13 978-0-521-32777-0 hardbackISBN-10 0-521-32777-6 hardback

ISBN-13 978-0-521 -02671 -0 paperbackISBN-10 0-521-02671-7 paperback

For My Father and My Mother

Contents

Preface page ixAcknowledgments xiii

Introduction i

1 The hidden whole 9

2 Religion: a balance of public and private, reason

and the affections 20

3 Government: liberty balanced with deference 59

4 Society: a balance of stasis and movement 86

Conclusion: the hidden balance 108

Appendix: status of members of First Church and West Church 114

Notes 126Bibliography 151Index 159

Preface

In 1781, the Tory Peter Oliver indicted the clergy of Massachusetts onthe charge of bad manners:

The clergy of this Province were, in general, a Set of very weakMen; & it could not be expected that they should be otherwise, asmany of them were just relieved, many from the Burthen of theSatchel; and others from hard Labor; & by a Transition from thoseOccupations to mounting a Desk, from whence they could over-look a principal Part of their Congregations, they, by that meanacquired a supreme Self Importance; which was too apparent intheir manners.1

Oliver named Charles Chauncy (1705-87), pastor of First Church inBoston, and Jonathan May hew (1720-66), former pastor of Boston'sWest Church, as two of the worst offenders. Chauncy "was of a veryresentfull, unforgiving Temper; & when he was in the Excess of hisPassion, a Bystander would naturally judge that he had been educated inthe Purlieus of Bedlam." Mayhew "had too great a Share of Pride for anhumble Disciple of so divine a Master, & looked with too contemptuousan Eye on all around him." Such impropriety, claimed Oliver, spilledover into matters of religion: Chauncy made statements that "borderedtoo near upon Blasphemy," and Mayhew, "in his extempore Pulpit Effu-sions," proposed ideas "so unharmonious and discordant, that they al-ways grated upon the Ears of his Auditors."2

But even more serious than the charge of bad manners, or of theologi-cal incompetence, and most disconcerting to Oliver, was the perceptionthat the two ministers "distinguished theirselves in encouraging Sedi-tions and Riots, until those lesser Offences were absorbed in Rebellion."3

Pride, blasphemy and sedition, the three bones of Oliver's criticism of

x PREFACE

Chauncy and Mayhew, are the themes that have guided subsequent in-vestigations into the lives of the two men. In the nearly century and a halfof scholarly interest in Chauncy and Mayhew, three main schools ofinterpretation have evolved. One group of scholars has focused primarilyon the political writings of Chauncy and Mayhew, and has argued thatcertain sermons of the two men were major contributions toward theformation of the rhetoric of the American Revolution. As Alice Baldwinargued, Chauncy and Mayhew took the ideas of English Whig writers"out of the field of abstraction" and connected them with "the protectionof home, church and country."4

Other scholars have opposed this interpretation, claiming that Chaun-cy and Mayhew were more interested in preserving the status quo than infomenting rebellion. The most ambitious statement of this position hascome from Alan Heimert, who argues that Chauncy and Mayhew wereessentially "individualists" who adhered to "a profoundly elitist and con-servative ideology" and were committed to a social system based oninequality. According to Heimert, Chauncy and Mayhew preached apolitical theory "deliberately contrived as justification for restraining thepeople. "5

A third group of scholars has been concerned with the theologicalideas of Chauncy and Mayhew, pointing out that the two ministers wereleaders in the move toward "rational religion" in America in the eigh-teenth century. Most scholars in this group agree with Joseph Haroutu-nian that Chauncy and Mayhew were not pietists but were moralists,who emphasized the "head" rather than the "heart" in religion.6

Work from all three of these groups has suffered from a shortcoming:Scholars have concentrated either on the sociopolitical theories of thetwo men or on their theological ideas. No serious effort has been made toconsider both aspects of the thinking of Chauncy and Mayhew as interre-lated parts of a single vision. Moreover, historians and biographers havemade little effort to relate the overall thinking of Chauncy and Mayhewto the complexities of social and political life in Boston in the mid eigh-teenth century. Surely, scholars have pointed to biographical details aswell as to specific historical events as crucial influences in the shaping ofChauncy's and Mayhew's ideas. However, no attempt has been made toanalyze the sociopolitical context in such a way as to shed light on thecharacter and direction of each man's thinking as a whole.7

Finally, it seems to me that the best approach to studying Chauncy andMayhew is to consider the intellectual achievements of these men side byside. Historians traditionally have linked Chauncy and Mayhew becauseof the agreement in the thinking of the two men on specific points oftheology or politics or social theory. Such agreement, however, itself

PREFACE xi

bespeaks a shared intellectual and social background that in a more pro-found way connected the lives of these two men.

Chauncy wrote that he and Mayhew were "intimate companions."8

Such companionship began as a shared interest in the ideas of Newtonand his interpreters. In their studies at Harvard, Chauncy (B.A. 1721,M.A. 1724) and Mayhew (B.A. 1744, M.A. 1747) encountered the philo-sophical and scientific empiricisms of the emergent Enlightenment, andbecame hooked, not upon strict empiricism, but upon the project ofreconciling the theories of Enlightenment writers with the Puritan worldof ideas. Chauncy studied with Thomas Robie, a scientifically mindedtutor who was elected a fellow of the Royal Society in 1725. Perry Millerremarked that it was Robie who began in the colonies "the study ofmodern science, in anything like the professional sense." Having madeuse of a telescope that Harvard had recently acquired, Robie in 1719published a scientific report on astronomical phenomena that playeddown the theological significance of astronomical events and emphasizedinstead natural explanations.9

Over the years, as Chauncy's theological writing grew more preciseand subtle, this scientific perspective ripened in his mind. The marriageof Chauncy's stepdaughter Rebecca Townsend to Hollis Professor JohnWinthrop in 1746 created for Chauncy further opportunity to cultivatehis scientific learning. One direct result of Winthrop's influence uponChauncy was Earthquakes a Token of the Righteous Anger of God (1755), asermon that essentially upheld Winthrop's argument for the natural causesof earthquakes while still connecting such causes to the hand of God.

Mayhew also was influenced by Winthrop, both as a student at Har-vard and through a lifelong friendship with the professor. Though May-hew was familiar with Locke and Newton, he was particularly interestedin works that blended arguments for Newtonian order with the perspec-tive of religious faith. Such works included Samuel Parker's ADemonstration of the Divine Authority of the Law of Nature, John Ray's TheWisdom of God Manifested in the Works of Creation, and John Woodward'sNatural History of the Earth. In one of Mayhew's commonplace books arelong passages copied from Thomas Burnet's Sacred Theory of the Earth, aswell as excerpts from Boyle and from the dean of English "supernaturalrationalism," Archbishop John Tillotson.10

Reading of this sort was no doubt encouraged by Edward Wig-glesworth, a Harvard professor with heretical leanings, from whomMayhew and Chauncy acquired their graduate training. Wigglesworth,who, above all, had a reputation for intellectual honesty and fairness, wasdrawn to the religious rationalism of Tillotson, Samuel Clarke, andDaniel Whitby, and his influence upon the direction of both Chauncy's

xii PREFACE

and Mayhew's thought is apparent. Long after Wigglesworth's passingChauncy remembered "the extraordinary talent of reasoning" possessedby this "truly great and excellent man," who was "one of the mostcandid men you ever saw; far removed from bigotry, no ways rigid inhis attachment to any scheme, yet steady to his own principles."11

The connections between Chauncy and Mayhew, which began as asimilarity of educational background and theological outlook, developedrapidly after Mayhew's graduation from Harvard and his call to WestChurch in 1747. It is likely that Chauncy engineered his friend's can-didacy for the prestigious post, which paid a salary higher than that ofany other Boston church. Since Chauncy's own First Church congrega-tion included many of the wealthiest members of Boston society, May-hew's appointment to West Church ensured that the two men wouldnow move together in the social circles of the Boston elite. Such com-mon experience no doubt contributed substantially to the similarities intheir developing views on religion and society. It also apparently helpedto connect them in the minds of their eventual detractors and supporters.When one was accused of heresy, the other was usually named acoconspirator, and when one was honored, it was usually not long be-fore the other was given similar recognition. Such was the case not onlyin Boston, but in England as well: Chauncy was awarded an honoraryDoctor of Divinity degree by the faculty of Edinburgh University in1742, and Mayhew, though he had only just begun to publish his theo-logical views, was awarded the same degree by Aberdeen in 1750. Theonly other Congregational ministers in the Boston area who held suchdegrees were Joseph Sewall and, not surprisingly, Edward Wiggles-worth.

All of these factors that connect Chauncy and Mayhew - education,professional status, public perception, and their personal friendship - donot of themselves justify the plan for this study. However, when Chaun-cy's and Mayhew's ideas are examined and seen to be so much alike inpoints of detail as well as in overall character, then such factors becomesignificant, linking the two men together in ways that are more thanmerely coincidental.

Chauncy and Mayhew were neither strict conservatives, as Heimerthas claimed, nor as radical thinkers in politics and religion as Baldwinand Haroutunian have claimed. Chauncy and Mayhew occupy a pivotalplace in American intellectual life not because they proposed a sterilerationalism born of reaction to the Great Awakening, but because theyaffirmed the mystery and sacrality of the cosmos in new ways. Theyemphasized the complexity of social life and the necessity for both headand heart in religion, at a time when most of their contemporaries had allbut abandoned the responsibility for such an endeavor.12

Acknowledgments

Reader beware! I have not aimed in this book at uncovering the "origins"- social or intellectual — of the American Revolution. This is a bookabout religion in its broadest sense, about the expression of a perceived"order of things" that referenced eighteenth-century colonial thinkingabout God, the cosmos, sin, society, government, and, ironically, theunexplainable.

If I have been at all successful in opening a window into the thought ofCharles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew, it is in part because I havedrawn considerable benefit and advantage from the written works ofnumerous other historians, and from the criticisms of teachers andfriends. Among previous studies of Chauncy and Mayhew, three booksthat have been of particular help are the biographies by Charles W. Akers(Mayhew), Edward M. Griffin (Chauncy), and Charles H. Lippy(Chauncy). To my "doctor-father," Jerald C. Brauer, I am indebted forhis encouragement at the beginning of this project, his guidancethroughout, and his keen editor's eye at the end, and for the continuingsupport and prodding that only an unusually gifted teacher can provide. Ithank Martin E. Marty, Edward M. Cook, Jr., John M. Kloos, andJames F. Childress for their reading of the manuscript and for thethoughtful suggestions they made. Myrtis Meyer and the late Victor W.Turner, who helped me to clarify my thinking on several points ofanalysis, have saved me from some of my more obvious and embarrass-ing mistakes.

To the staffs of the following libraries I am particularly grateful: HenryE. Huntington Library, San Marino, Calif; Houghton Library, Harvard;Mugar Library, Boston University; Newberry Library, Chicago; NewYork Public Library; Regenstein Library, University of Chicago; Alder-man Library, University of Virginia.

xiv ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am grateful to Jane Van Tassel for her fine editing of the manuscript.Gail Moore, Dan Smith and Chris Cherry typed the manuscript withcare and cheer.

My best critic, Sheila Curran, many times has rescued this prose fromopacity and its author from the frustrations, large and small, that comewith writing a book.

JCCharlottesvMe, Virginia

Introduction

In the middle of the eighteenth century, Americans reinvented the porch.Sometime between 1745 and 1755, they focused their attention on thedoorways of their homes and businesses and began to ornament andenlarge them.1 Doorways were framed with delicate woodworking andelaborate, time-consuming carpentry. Doorway facades became worksof art. Low-relief columns, pilasters, moldings, festoons, and richly or-namented transoms appeared over and around the threshold. Classicalcolumns, extended roofs, wooden railings of every sort, and smoothstone steps were added to building entrances. Colonial builders, in fact,spent a disproportionate amount of time crafting the doorway. Architec-ture critic Joseph Jackson, commenting on the sudden and intense inter-est in doorways in New England, wrote: "Here again, proportion seemsto have been forgotten, for many of the doorways and doors are excel-lent in themselves, but they are appended to houses that are unfitted forthem by design and general character."2

Colonists were suddenly fascinated with the threshold of a building.The porch that drew attention to this threshold was not inside the house,nor could it properly be said to stand outside the house. It was, in a sense,"in-between."3 Moreover, it may have been precisely the expression ofthis in-betweenness that appealed to colonial builders of this period, forthe world in which they lived at mid century was itself a world inbetween. In religious, political, and socioeconomic aspects of coloniallife, new ideas and events were challenging the old ways and traditions.For many Americans, traditional ways of understanding their place in thecosmos were no longer satisfying. Moreover, new understandings thatwere emerging were sometimes too radical a replacement.

Gordon Wood has described America at mid century as "a society inconflict with itself."4 Michael Kammen has stressed "the bifarious nature

2 THE HIDDEN BALANCE

of colonial society" and pointed to the many "contradictory tendencies"in colonial America.5 In this society, which was "so contradictory in itsnature that it left contemporaries puzzled and later historians divided,"some persons were caught in the middle, trying both to retain the oldand to accept the new.6 Like the porch that is neither inside nor outsidethe house, these persons were neither strict traditionalists nor boldprophets. They were, simply, in between.

In religion, the Great Awakening suddenly burst over the lives ofAmericans and demonstrated the power of religious enthusiasm. Begin-ning in the middle colonies under the leadership of TheodoreFrelinghuysen in the 1720s, the revival arrived in earnest with the preach-ing of George Whitefield and the theology of Jonathan Edwards in thelate 173 os and early 1740s. In place of the carefully developed Puritansermon that moved from a text to its explanation to an application,revivalist preachers addressed their crowds in desperately emotional lan-guage. In place of the Puritan "lesson," evangelists such as Whitefield,Gilbert Tennent, and James Davenport stressed, in clear and simpleterms, the sinful condition of humanity and the necessity for regenera-tion and, especially, the importance of a person's "inner experience."

With the new emphasis on a sudden conversion experience as theprimary point of reference for one's salvation, the concepts of a holycommonwealth and covenantal community were diminished in impor-tance.7 But these concepts were not entirely overthrown by the newemphasis on the individual. Indeed, in many ways the revival was in-tensely communitarian. Jonathan Edwards, the most articulate spokes-man for the revival, wrote at length about the new order that wouldblossom as more people were converted.

It will be a time of excellent order in the church of Christ. Thetrue government and discipline of the church will then be settledand put into practice. All the world shall then be as one church, oneorderly, regular, beautiful society. And as the body shall be one, sothe members shall be in beautiful proportion to each other.8

But neither Edwards nor his revivalist brethren were able to explainthe practical manner in which the new order of the regenerate was tofunction. They instead proposed that Christian virtue, faithfully prac-ticed by converted individuals, would almost mystically lead to a socialorder that was family-like in character. In short, supporters of the re-vival, in their thinking about the relationship between the individual andthe Christian society, found themselves stressing both the essential pri-macy of individual experience and the indistinguishability of the individ-ual from the social body.

Like the revivalists, the opponents of the Awakening were caught

INTRODUCTION 3

between two seemingly irreconcilable understandings about the place ofthe individual in society. But they differed considerably from the revival-ists in that they adopted reason as a key component of their religion.Works of Enlightenment writers had been standard fare at Harvard fromthe early eighteenth century, and some colonial ministers had been lean-ing toward "rational religion" for almost as long. In the years leading upto the Awakening the notion of the perfectibility of the individual -through the cultivation of implanted faculties (chiefly reason) - began tomake its way into colonial theological discourse. By the 1740-50s someof the nonrevivalist clergy were consequently stressing the legitimacyand authority of personal experience, though, obviously, for somewhatdifferent reasons than their revivalist opponents.

But it became clear during the Great Awakening that the opponents ofthe revival were also the effective heirs of what remained of the seven-teenth-century Puritan vision of the holy commonwealth. In particular,they held to the idea that an elite, educated clergy was responsible forpresenting to church congregations a clear understanding of the gospel,and for explaining how the moral individual ought to conduct himself orherself in social life. They were particularly concerned with the moralaction of the individual in society as a key ingredient for salvation. Liber-als such as Charles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew, then, were left toexplain, first, how reason was related to the affections, and, secondly,how "private judgment" was to coexist with a society guided by eliteauthority.

In mid-eighteenth-century political ideology, a body of ideas that haddeveloped around the concepts of liberty and authority evidenced antag-onisms similar to those found in religion between personal piety andmorality. Even before the Awakening, colonists were beginning to per-ceive in English radical Whig theories of government an appropriatecommentary on their own predicament in America. Especially in thewake of Locke's treatises on social contract and natural rights, a keencritical interest arose about the nature of the relationship between theruler and the ruled. In their own letters and essays, Americans citedShaftesbury and Locke, Bolingbroke, Montesquieu, and Beccaria. Andperhaps most widely read of all were the libertarian, less dense, morereadable writings of John Trenchard and Thomas Gordon, who togetheredited the Independent Whig, a London weekly in the early eighteenthcentury, and later penned Cato's Letters, a work deeply critical of Englishpolitics and society.

Broadly considered, the political commentary to which colonists wereattracted belonged to the Opposition tradition, or English country ideol-ogy.9 At its center was a loyalty to and trust in the English constitution,but this was offset by a deep pessimism about the possibilities for trans-


lating English constitutional principles into actual social policies. The"country" intellectuals - those persons alienated from the center of En-glish political power - believed that the system of checks and balances inparliament between Crown, peers, and Commons had been corruptedby propertied interests and that parliament no longer functioned home-ostatically to guard against tyranny. Generally speaking, Whigs believedthat the Crown - by devious plottings, bargainings and conspiracies -had undermined the free and open debate that was considered essential tothe spirit of the constitution.

Influenced by Opposition writers who stressed the importance of indi-vidual liberty, but still conditioned in their thinking to a deferentialresponse to status and power, colonists faced difficult decisions in theface of tax and trade controversies with England.10 From the late 1750sthrough the early 1770s, Americans found themselves stuck between twohorns of a political dilemma, between the perceived necessity for socialauthority and the desire for individual liberty. More specifically, Ameri-cans proclaimed their allegiance to the principles of the English constitu-tion, but rejected certain of the policies of an English government thatclaimed to be founded on constitutional principles.11

Ultimately, ideological as well as socioeconomic concerns wouldprovide logic and spark for the American Revolution. But in the 1760s aclear sense of direction, and even a solid grasp of the problem, waslacking for most Americans. Indeed, John Shy has suggested that a ma-jority of the colonial population remained confused and indecisive aboutgovernmental powers and limits until the war actually entered theirtowns, or their homes.12

Conflicts that complicated thinking about liberty and authority, andabout the individual and society, emerged in connection with so-cioeconomic aspects of colonial life as well. One issue that proved partic-ularly problematic was the matter of the nature of the relation betweensocial status and vertical mobility. Social status in the colonies was estab-lished on a variety of contributing factors, but public officeholding andproperty ownership were especially important considerations. The linkbetweeen status and property brought with it a set of problems that werenot easily settled.

Jackson Turner Main has written: "Among all the factors which cre-ated social distinctions, property was the most important."13 Since therewere times between 1750 and 1770 when economic conditions in thecolonies provided opportunity for making a quick profit and acquiringvaluable property, many persons in the mid eighteenth century did,indeed, raise their status considerably. Main points out that of the sixtyrichest men on the 1771 Massachusetts tax roll, between 40 and 50 per-

INTRODUCTION 5

cent were nouveaux riches and one-third were self-made men.14 It is clear,however, that in a system that correlated wealth with high social status,this high rate of entry into the elite tended to bring into question thelegitimacy and substantiality of the status order of society. Most histo-rians point out that Americans at mid century had internalized a deferen-tial attitude toward property.15 But deference was based on the assump-tion of a static social order, whereas mobility, of course, demonstratedmotion in the system. The latter fact was impressed upon Bostonians, inparticular, in the turbulent years between 1750 and 1770, when fortuneswere made and lost often in a matter of only a few years.

Edward Pessen has commented: "Social mobility involves two ele-ments: motion and position. Werner Heisenberg suggested in studyingthe electron that perfect knowledge of one is irreconcilable with exactknowledge of the other."16 In colonial Boston, rich and poor alike werefaced with the problem of conceptualizing how persons could be of acertain fixed status level (position), but nevertheless be moving fromlevel to level at the same time (motion). That is, they believed that therewas an established social order made up of distinct superiors and in-feriors, but that there was a general equality of opportunity for advance-ment as well, and that persons were advancing (or, in some cases,plummeting). Reconciling these beliefs was tricky business, especiallyfor the nouveaux riches. It was hard to justify one's social superiority andat the same time affirm that a kind of general equality had made thatsuperiority possible in the first place.

These tensions in three areas of colonial life in this period - in religion,political ideology, and the socioeconomic order - were, generally, quitesimilar in nature, and can be organized by theme into three categories.First, the period is characterized by the challenge of new ideas to tradi-tional ways of life. The most important traditions were (1) in religion,the role and authority of an elite clergy; (2) in politics, the practice ofdeference; and (3) in the social order, acceptance of a fixed hierarchy ofclasses. New ideas and forces took the forms of rationalism/affectionalreligion, egalitarianism, and mobility, respectively. Secondly, the natureof the conflicts in all cases began with an upgraded view of the place andfunction of the individual in relation to society. Private judgment, self-government, and personal economic advancement challenged the socialinstitutions of church and government and the socioeconomic order as awhole. Thirdly, in all three areas, concern for virtue or "merit" formed apredominant theme. Outside of the Awakening, a major concern of thereligious literature centered on the theme of the ability or inability ofpersons to reach perfection by virtue faithfully practiced. Political discus-sion was organized around the matter of the connection of merit with


political office. In the economy of colonial America, hard work andperseverance were explicitly connected with movement into the higherranks of society.

In summary, colonial life at this time might be pictured in general as acontest between (i) new ideas about and evidences of personal virtue andeffort and (2) traditional social institutions grounded in an essentiallyelitist view of society, skeptical of human capability. In the years be-tween the Awakening and the Revolution, Chauncy and Mayhew strug-gled to fashion elements drawn from each side of the conflict intocoherent statements about God, man, and the world. Such statementswere often imaginative and bold.

Though conservative in many of their ideas, neither Chauncy norMayhew was a narrowminded conformist. Events of their personal lives,as well as their writings, suggest a streak of experimentalism mixed inwith their generally more sober casts of character. Chauncy, for exam-ple, was fined and demoted in rank at Harvard for card playing and otheroffenses, and later, at the ripe age of eighty-one, he proposed marriage toa widow of forty, to whom he had been "paying his addresses."17

Chauncy's friends were amused and delighted, but the woman refusedhim.

Though from a family "respectable in all its stages," Mayhew likewiseran aground in college: As an undergraduate, he was regularly fined for avariety of offenses, including illegal drinking. In 1744 he was degraded inclass rank for the tone of disrespect he took in defending the actions ofsome of his fellow seniors: "In a very imprudent manner [he] made animpertinent recrimination upon some of the immediate Governors of theHouse they all being present."18

Of course, by the 1750s both Chauncy and Mayhew had earned them-selves reputations as theological heretics in England and America. May-hew preached supernatural rationalism and individualism, and to theseChauncy added universalism. Both men were accused of Arminianism,Arianism, blasphemy, and a host of other offenses, both real and imag-ined. In addition to their theological boldness, the two pastors emergedas political figures in Boston in the years leading up to the AmericanRevolution. Robert Treat Paine, a signer of the Declaration of Indepen-dence, called Mayhew "the father of civil and religious liberty in Mas-sachusetts and America."19John Adams, who wrote that twelve volumescould be written on Mayhew's "transcendent genius," gave the follow-ing advice: "If the orators on the fourth of July really wish to investigatethe principles and feelings which produced the Revolution, they ought tostudy . . . Dr. Mayhew's sermon on passive obedience and non-resistance."20

Charles Chauncy was equally well known in Boston as a "fomenter of

INTRODUCTION 7

prejudice" against the Crown. Adams considered him, along with May-hew, to be one of the "illustrious agents" of the Revolution.21 An adver-tisement in the Boston Evening Post (September 19, 1774) addressed to"The Officers and Soldiers of His Majesty's Troops in Boston" includedChauncy in the company of prominent Boston rebels.

It being more than probable that the King's standard will soon beerected, from rebellion breaking out in this province, it is properthat you soldiers should be acquainted with the authors' thereof andof all the Misfortunes brought upon the province, the following is alist of them, viz. Mess Samuel Adams, James Bowdoin, Dr.Thomas Young, Dr. Benjamin Church, Capt. John Bradford,Josiah Quincy, Major Nathaniel Barber, William Mollineaux, JohnHancock, Wm. Cooper, Dr. Chauncy, Dr. Cooper, ThomasCushing, Joseph Greenleaf, and William Downing - the friends ofyour King and Country, and of America, hope and expect it fromyou soldiers, the instant rebellion happens, that you will put theabove persons immediately to the sword, destroy their houses,plunder their effects; it is just that they should be the first victims tothe mischiefs they have br't upon us.

A letter to Gr. Brit. & AmericaN.B. Don't forget those trumpeters of sedition, the printers Edesand Gill, and Thomas.Chauncy and Mayhew were neither radically progressive nor strictly

conservative. Like the society around them that was in between, so alsowas their thinking in between. Their understanding of the cosmos wasbased on two key principles: wholeness and balance. Such an under-standing was drawn in part from their experience of the forces that mademid-eighteenth-century America a society in transition. But such anunderstanding was rooted as well in the fact that Chauncy and Mayhewwere religious thinkers and pastors, actively engaged in the project ofarticulating to their congregations a coherent religious vision of the cos-mos. Their writings accord an important place to human intuition, tothat part of a person's makeup that, as Henri Bergson claimed, "mayenable us to grasp what it is that intelligence fails to give us, and indicatethe means for supplementing it."22 A fundamental component of thereligious worldview, intuition plays a key role in the integration ofideas.23

Chauncy and Mayhew endeavored to provide to their congregations acoherent picture of the cosmos, to present, as clearly as possible, anunderstanding of the divine creation, of the nature and function of so-ciety as part of that creation, and of the role of the individual as a spiritual


and social creature. Their thinking about society did not exist apart fromtheir thinking about the cosmos as a whole. Their social theory was notsimply an expression of the desire to protect class interests, nor was itstrictly devotion to abstract Enlightenment principles of government andsocial order. It was but one aspect of a religious standpoint which theywere busy fashioning in the aftermath of the Great Awakening, andwhich they shaped by drawing on the theories of their Puritan forebears,on Enlightenment ideas, and on their own social experiences in colonialBoston.

Chapter 1

The hidden whole

In spite of the fact that life at mid century was filled with divisions anddichotomies, Charles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew believed that theharmony of all reality was the enduring plan of God, and they preachedthis message continuously from their pulpits. In a discourse occasionedby the earthquakes of 1755, Mayhew thus offered to his congregation thefollowing dictum: "There is a harmony and uniformity of design visiblein the works of nature and providence, which shows that all originallyproceeds from, and is governed by, ONE."1 In Two Sermons on the Nature,Extent and Perfection of Divine Goodness (1763), he likewise applauded "thestructure, the admirable order and adjustment of the various parts,nothing superfluous, nothing wanting, from whence results the harmo-ny and beauty of the whole. "2 In another sermon, taking up the matterof the destruction of the world as predicted in The Revelation to John,Mayhew held that the interdependencies among all that exists dictatedthat the destruction of the earth would be accompanied by the destruc-tion of all else: "It appears to me most probable that the apostle intendsthis whole system, inclusive of the sun and the planetary regions, as wellas this habitable world, with all its furniture," to be destroyed.3

In many sermons written in the 1750s and 1760s, Mayhew expressedhimself on the coherence and uniformity of nature. All creation wasunder "the Law of Nature, which cannot be repealed by God himself."4

There were no "accidents" in nature: God had created the cosmos ac-cording to definite rules of order and design.5 In this design, wroteMayhew, "there is a subordination one thing to another; and a vastapparent variety among them; but there is also a connection and depen-dence of one with and upon, another; and all tend to the same point atlast."6

Events occurred in the world for a reason, in accordance with natural

io THE HIDDEN BALANCE

laws: "Things come to pass according to the established course of nature,and the settled order of things."7 Even "storms, tempests, drought,pestilence, earthquakes, and some other phenomena in the naturalworld" are actually for the good. They "proceed from such general lawsof nature, as are upon the whole most wise, good, excellent, and whichcould not, probably, be broken in upon, or suspended in their opera-tions, without great detriment, perhaps destruction of the world."8

Human apprehension of this great harmonious design (alongside reve-lation) points to the presence of a wise governing spirit behind it: "Thelight of nature shows the world to be under a moral government andGovernor."9 This "supreme governor of the world" is the first causebehind all the "secondary causes" that are observable in nature.10 May-hew held that humans, animals, the earth, the stars, "all of these subordi-nate agents, in all their operations, are under the controul and dominionof the Almighty."11 The universe is a cohesive whole, but only one forcecan move the natural world:

There are no powers in what we call natural, secondary causes, butwhat one, to say the least, originally derived from the first; and noreal agency in any that are wholly material. Activity or agency,properly speaking, belongs only to the mind or spirit; and all thosepowers and operations which in common language are ascribed tonatural bodies, are really effects and operations of the supremeoriginal cause.12

Mayhew thus asks this rhetorical question about the sun and themoon: "Who makes them know their proper places and distances, so asnot to jostle and wrack world on world? Whose hand constantly main-tains their order?"13 Of course it is God who has made the heavenlybodies "know their proper places." What is important for Mayhew isthat God, as first cause behind the operations of the natural world, hasarranged all things so that they do not come into conflict with each other,so that planets do not "wrack world on world" and the lives of men andwomen are not left to chance. Mayhew told a Thanksgiving Day meet-ing that "this world is under the government, not of blind chance, orfate, or men, or good, or evil spirits; but that of the eternal, infinite, andomnipresent Spirit, to whom it owes its existence."14

All that happens in this world is according to the plan of God, and forhis pleasure:

It is God's world; He upholds, he rules, he controuls it, and insome way or another, perhaps inconceivable by us, actually ordersand determines the events of it; and that with such precision thatneither a "sparrow falls to the ground, nor a lot is cast into the lap"without him. All subordinate beings and agents, who are con-

THE HIDDEN WHOLE n

cerned in bringing about any events, any changes or revolutions inthis lower world, whether prosperous or adverse to us, are hisagents, his instruments, all "fulfilling his pleasure." He is thereforeto be acknowledged as the supreme, infinite cause of all theseevents.15

For Mayhew, "God governs the world."16 Nothing happens that isnot "ordered" by him.17 Because of the "universal government andprovidence of God," no "events come to pass contrary to, or beside hisdesign, or without, and independently of him."18 Addressing his con-gregation after the great Boston fire of 1760, Mayhew claimed that theterrible losses were not arbitrary, but part of God's plan: "God is theauthor of all these calamities and sufferings, which at any time befall acity, or a community. They are not to be looked upon as the effect ofchance, or accident; which are but empty names; but as proceeding ulti-mately from him, the supreme governor of the world."19 The fire wasnot to be understood as a random tragedy, but as a result of the activewill of God. Mayhew pointed out that "the Scriptures do not speak ofGod as an unconcerned, or inactive spectatore, of any events; but as theauthor of them."20

In a discourse on a day of thanksgiving for the success of militaryoperations in Canada, Mayhew similarly pointed out that success, liketragedy, always comes from God, that there is "no success in war, butwhat is ultimately to be resolved in the holy will, the active influence, orprovidential government of God."21 Good or bad, "all things andevents," wrote Mayhew,

whether natural or preternatural, are under one supreme, uniformDIRECTION unless there is either no God, or more than one. Theconsequence of which is, that even natural effects and events, are tobe traced up to this supreme, original cause of all things, whosecounsel and providence govern the world.22

The origin of all events in God's will, the purposefulness of nature,and the harmony and coherence of the universe are themes that in oneform or another emerge in nearly all of Mayhew's writings. Mayhewwas confident that there was an order and direction to creation, overseenby the "great Author, Upholder and Governor of the Universe," who"moves and directs this amazing and stupendous whole."23

But this confidence was not always based on simple observation. Justas the people of Boston must have wished for some visible proof that thegreat fire of 1760 was a part of God's plan and not a purposeless accident,so too did Mayhew sometimes allow that creation's design was invisibleto human eyes. In fact, while affirming the plan and order of the uni-verse, Mayhew generally conceded that such order is not fully com-prehensible, but is hidden from human understanding. Mayhew thus


states that God's works are so "marvellous" that "we cannot penetrateinto, or fully comprehend, them, by reason of the narrowness of ourfaculties. . . . And it is but a little way that we can see into the nature andcauses and reasons of things."24 In The Expected Dissolution of All Things(1755) Mayhew claimed that, in fact, human perception of God's designwas an absurd expectation: "It were infinitely absurd to imagine, thatcreatures of such very limited capacities as mankind, should be able tofully comprehend the immense designs and works of an infinite being."25

But invisibility of parts of the divine plan did in no way detract fromit. Mayhew's faith in the coherence of reality remained firm, and heargued in various discourses that just as natural science is often slow towork out the mechanics of motion or a general theory of earthquakes, sotoo are men and women at first often unable to see clearly the "cosmic"order as it unfolds in their lives. Mayhew wrote in 1755:

There is indeed such a thing as natural philosophy, which is ofgood use both to the purposes of life and godliness; and which,therefore, well deserves to be cultivated. However, the whole ofwhat goes by that name, seems to be no more than the observing offacts, their succession and order; and reducing them to a settledcourse and series of events, called the laws of nature, from theirsteadiness and constancy. . . . But after all the improvements thathave been made herein, how many things are there in the naturalworld, which never have been, and perhaps never will be reducedto any such general analogy, or the common laws of nature. Howmany phaenomina are there, which we may call the irregulars, theanomalies, and heteroclites in the grammar . . . ?26

Mayhew asked if the "laws" of earthquakes, comets, tempests andother such natural phenomena were "ever plainly discovered? I mean sothat they could be methodically calculated, foretold and accounted for"like tides and eclipses.27 Though no one has yet discovered such laws,wrote Mayhew, there can be no question that such laws exist, orderingthese events just as the time of an eclipse can be calculated according tocertain rules. The "irregulars" and "anomalies" are only events for whichthe governing laws have not yet been discovered, not events that have noorder or reason. Undiscovered, the laws governing unusual circum-stances in nature nevertheless exist in the harmonious system of thingsthat is the universe. Mayhew concluded: "For there is doubtless an regu-lar an order and connection of these facts and effects, in nature, whetheractually seen or known by us or not. . . . But this connection and orderis, as yet, too recondite and hidden for human penetration."28

Even if the whole spectrum of immediate causes of natural events wereto be determined, there would still remain, argued Mayhew, the matter

THE HIDDEN WHOLE 13

of "general" laws, which, though uniform and coherent, may themselvesbe ultimately impenetrable. If all the works of God "could be brought toa common analogy, and methodically arranged under certain knownlaws . . . our knowledge would still be very imperfect. . . . For it is to beremembered, that these general laws, by which we think to account forall other things, are themselves mysterious and inexplicable."29 An ex-ample of such a general law is the law of gravity. Though its effects areeverywhere observable and predictable, "who, I say, can, without theutmost vanity and presumption pretend to a thorough understanding ofthis law? especially after a NEWTON has confessed his ignorance of it."30

Mayhew enlarged the lesson with a further example: "We can no morepenetrate into the true reason why a spark of fire, rather than a drop ofwater, should cause an explosion when dropped on powder; than we cantell why a stone, left to itself in the air should fall, rather than ascend. "31

In matters such as this, as in so many aspects of life, the "real cause" is"quite hidden from mortal sight."32

The impenetrability of general laws, and the fact that certain secondaryor tertiary laws have not yet been discovered, makes no difference inunderstanding the cosmos as a perfectly ordered system. The manner inwhich certain events come about, or various phenomena combine toproduce a certain effect, or the circumstances of nations are altered in thecourse of history, whether fully understood or not, reflects for Mayhewboth the harmony and the wonder of creation: "The whole world is onegreat wonder and mystery."33

The world is both "one" and "mysterious." One can be assured thatwhat is not readily understandable is as much a part of the divine plan asthose things that are plain to human sight, because all things are con-nected as if in a "golden chain." The "circumstances and events" of life"must be ascribed at last to that divine providence which superintendsand overrules all things. It is, in short, like the fabulous golden chain ofthe poets, hung down from heaven to earth; the upper end whereof is farabove mortal reach and sight, and there fastened to the throne of God."34

It should not be supposed that the golden chain that connects every-thing in creation represents only the interdependencies of phenomena inthe natural, material world. For Mayhew, all aspects of creation fit to-gether, and he is quick to point out that moral and civil government areas much a part of the ordered whole as the seasons, earthquakes, orgravity. Indeed, the interplay of natural, moral, and civil government ispart of the divine plan. In another earthquake-inspired writing publishedin 1760, Mayhew observed:

If we may judge by analogy, or reason, from what has heretoforebeen, to what shall be hereafter, we may probably conclude, that


these great commotions in the natural world will usher in somegreat revolutions in the moral world, and in the state of thosenations and countries where they happened. There usually hasbeen, and probably will be, a kind of agreement, or some corre-spondence, between the natural, the civil, and the moral world; Sothat events in the former may, it is humbly conceived, without anytincture of superstition or enthusiasm, be considered as prog-nostications and forerunners of some commotions, equally uncom-mon and surprising in the latter.35

All three worlds - natural, moral, and civil - are under the sameprovidential government of God. Therefore, they share a sort of com-mon denominator of order, and share as well the "hiddenness" of certainaspects of their operations. In a discourse in 1759 Mayhew suggested that"the moral perfections which we usually ascribe to God, seem to have aconnexion with those natural ones, which must necessarily belong to theoriginal cause of all things."36 In his notes for another sermon he likewiseaffirmed that "even civil government is the appointment of God andProvidence," and "human government . . . is plainly . . . a part orbranch of his more general government over the world."37

All parts of God's government move in unison, in the same direction,toward the same ends: "As the natural and moral world are under oneand the same common direction or government, so God's end in allthings, however various and diverse, is really one and uniform."38 But,again, this uniformity of direction may be unclear to human witnesses.In a passage wherein the natural and moral worlds are compared, May-hew admitted that "we cannot see into all the connections and dependen-cies of things and events in the moral world, so as to give a clear accountand solution of them. Difficulties and objections will remain . . . afterpuzzled theology has done its best."39

In short, the order of the natural, moral, and civil worlds - the cosmosas a whole for Mayhew - is assuredly unchangeable and uniform. Eventsoccur according to principles that God has established to order them.Nevertheless, sometimes persons cannot see God's order in events orcircumstances of their lives. For Mayhew, this means only that the orderis "hidden" in such cases. The human view, being narrow, cannot appre-ciate the complexities and dependencies of God's design. No matter howrandom an event might appear - fire loss, earthquake, or even startlingmilitary victory - its place in the cosmic scheme of things can never bedenied. In some cases, the purpose of such an event may never be satis-factorily determined, but in other cases, a conscientious application of areasonable method of investigation, guided by Enlightenment faith inthe unity of creation, may provide clues about the operations of natural,moral, and civil government.

THE HIDDEN WHOLE 15

Charles Chauncy, like Jonathan Mayhew, was no stranger to the cir-cles in which Enlightenment ideas about order - heavenly and civil -were becoming popular. Like Mayhew, Chauncy believed in the "orderof nature,"40 and his writings are filled with references to the unity anduniformity that are to be observed in nature, to "the harmonies andfitnesses we see in the works of nature. "41 Beginning with his responsesto the Great Awakening, Seasonable Thoughts on the State of Religion inNew England (1743) and Enthusiasm Describ'd and Caution 'd Against (1742),Chauncy set his arguments ever more solidly in a framework that as-sumed a coherence and uniformity in creation. As his thinking matured,his expression of this belief in "harmonies and fitnesses" became moreexplicit. By the time of Twelve Sermons (1765), his major statement onfaith and justification, he was commonly referring to a "harmonious,wisely subordinated order" that was "unitedly operating."42

This "universal system of things"43 that Chauncy admired was, in-deed, universal for him. Just as the events of the natural world - tides,earthquakes, the motion of the planets in the solar system - were gov-erned by certain fixed principles, so was human life ordered. Persons"are brought into existence according to a settled uniform course of nature"and "their existence is upheld by stated laws."44 A crucial aspect of thoselaws was the "connections" they made between phenomena in the uni-verse. All events contributed toward some plan, some single direction inwhich creation was moving. Chauncy could thus confidently refer to"the connection of the universe in its various parts, their mutual depen-dence on, and subordination to, each other."45

This notion of the arrangement of the parts of the universe into anorder characterized by mutual dependence was the fundamental elementof Chauncy's cosmology, just as it was of Mayhew's. Both men believedthat there was a wholeness to creation, made possible by the perfectinterrelation of all the component parts, as Chauncy noted: "This systemcould, in no other way, have been constituted so full and coherent awhole" Even phenomena seemingly opposed to one another ought, fi-nally, to be "all considered as parts of some GREAT WHOLE, severallyconcurring to make one universal, gloriously connected system. "46 Andin this system, the visible, human world was itself only a small part ofthe grand design of creation: "This world of ours ought to be consideredas only a part of some great whole. "47

Just as the human world was only a part of the interconnected whole ofthe universe, so was the natural world but one aspect of the whole. Themoral world and the civil world were aspects of creation that fittedtogether with the natural world, under the same laws, in a system ofdependencies that ensured order and common direction. There is "ananalogy between the bodily, and mental faculty, of seeing," Chauncywrote in 1765. In a later work he made the same explicit connection that


his friend at West Church had made: "The analogy here, it may beworthy of notice, is very exact between the natural and the moralworld."48

Just as God had provided for order in the natural world, so had hefashioned the moral world and the civil world49 as perfect systems. Re-ligion, the guardian of morals, was a coherent body of truths. In AnUnbridled Tongue (1741), Chauncy declared that "there is a glorious har-mony between all the truths, and all the duties of religion. "50 Twenty-five years later, he was just as certain in this belief: "Perfect harmonysubsists between all divinely revealed truths."51 There was a perfect rela-tion between faith and grace, Chauncy wrote, "a most beautiful andharmonious agreement in their respective operations," and there was aperfect relation between faith and works, which, as Chauncy pointedout, was not "a meer Arbitrary thing, but plainly founded in the Wisdomof the divine Government. "52

All things were founded in "the providential government of God."Chauncy stressed that God was "infinite in the perfections of his na-ture"53 and concluded that God's creation was thus also perfect. But, likeMayhew, Chauncy also held that God did not simply allow creation tounfold in a mechanical or impersonal manner, but that God had, some-how, an active role in events as well. In Marvellous Things (1745) Chaun-cy argued that God "presides over the Kingdoms of this lower world,governing all their Affairs," and that in certain situations "He will ordersuch a concurrence of Circumstances" as to bring about certain events inthe course of history.54 Indeed, in Trust in God (1770) Chauncy wrote:

No devices of men, whether high or low, can take effect in contra-diction of his alwise pleasure. . . . In short, all the wisdom and thepower of heaven and earth, of all angels and all men, are under thegovernment of God. . . . Yea, he could invert the course of nature,stop the sun in its course, commission the stars to sight, and inter-pose by stupendous signs in heaven, and wonders on earth. . . . Hecan with infinite ease, in opposition to earth and hell, defend andsave those that make him their strength and hope.55

Divine interposition such as this in no way constituted an intrusioninto the perfect order of creation, however. When God acts, "He does itordinarily by the intervention of second Causes."56 To say that God couldstop the sun in its course does not mean that God might subvert cosmicorder. The perfect order of creation will endure behind all of the eventsand circumstances of life. When Chauncy writes that God might inter-vene in nature, he means that God's hand is active on the level of "secondcauses": "All nature is at his command, all second causes whether physi-cal or moral."57 When Chauncy refers to God's actions, to "the govern-

THE HIDDEN WHOLE 17

ing wisdom of that providence which extends over all human affairs," heis referring to the way in which God "brings creatures into existence, andmakes them happy, by the intervention of second causes, operating under hisdirection and influence, in a stated, regular, uniform manner."58

In Earthquakes a Token Chauncy made his strongest statement on themanner in which God intervenes through secondary causes while still inno way betraying the laws of nature and the order of creation. For themost part, "the great God makes use of second Causes in the production ofearthquakes; exerting his power, not immediately, but by concurring withthese Causes."59 God draws upon the interdependencies in creation toachieve his ends. An earthquake arises from a combination of secondcauses set in motion — according to certain regular laws - by the will ofGod, the "first cause": "We have no reason to think, but that it takes risefrom sufficient second Causes, in common with other phaenomena ofnature: Only these causes must always be considered as having the firstCause of all things for their director and Governor."60 In short, the activewill of God is always in harmony with the uniformity of the universe,because it was God who created the universe.

'Twas he who first established the laws of nature, giving to allsecond causes their respective powers of operation, and assigningthem to their several spheres of acting - Tis he who upholds themin all being and operation; for by him do all things consist - Tis hewho concurs with them in their influence. . . . Tis he who directsand governs all their motions and springs of action.61

But Chauncy, for all of his determination to explain the relation of firstcause to second causes, and to reconcile faith in the uniformity of cre-ation with seemingly arbitrary natural catastrophes, concluded, as didMayhew, that the connections between phenomena are often hiddenfrom human understanding.

Like Mayhew, Chauncy declared that the "irregularities" of the uni-verse - those phenomena that did not seem to fit with the cosmic order -were not irregularities at all. Certain things merely appeared irregular tothe narrow, imperfect human mind. Chauncy explained that "we are tooshort-sighted to trace any irregularities, in the present state, through alltheir connections, either here or hereafter; and therefore cannot pretendto affirm, with any degree of probability, that they may not finally turnout as proof of the wisdom of creation "rather than an objection againstit."62

Chauncy affirmed that the multitude of connections in nature "soclearly point out design, notwithstanding the obscurity in certain in-stances," that we should assume that harmonies exist even behind theobscurities of creation. Chauncy stated that "these harmonies and fit-


nesses have never yet been certainly and precisely made out in all in-stances. In some, far from being made particularly and distinctly toappear, they are attended with difficulty; yea, with seeming incon-gruity."63 Nevertheless, all of creation is in harmony, even if none butGod can appreciate it. Parts of creation may seem incongruous at timesbecause of "the imperfections of our faculties, and incapacity therefrom,to view the works of God as connected with and dependent on, eachother, in the divine plan of operation. No eye but God's can take in thewhole scheme of creation and providence. "64

God can "take in connections and dependencies, vastly transcendingthe most enlarged conceptions of such imperfect creatures as we are. "65

The universe is perfectly ordered and coherent, even if that coherence canonly be appreciated by "God, whose understanding is infinite, and whoperfectly sees all possible connections of ideas."66

Finally, Chauncy advised his congregation to rest in the assurance thatGod had created an orderly universe, even if that was not always clearfrom everyday experience. Where "irregularities" seemed to suggest auniverse based on chance, where worldly events undermined faith in thewisdom of creation - and perhaps, therefore, of creation's author -persons should move beyond rational analysis of the natural world to acontemplation of God's perfection. Chauncy exhorted his congregation:"Seriously carry your thoughts beyond all second Causes, and fix your eyeon God as the supreme author. "67 The lesson of Trust in God was that theseeming purposelessness of an event should not affect one's trust in God:"Let us make God the ultimate object of our dependence; looking aboveall second causes."68 In short, Chauncy proposed that the perfection ofGod ought never to be brought into question by human inability to seeconnections in creation. In times of confusion it is best to "keep moreclosely to the Scripture, and pay less regard to metaphysical niceties."69

Charles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew believed that there was acoherence and purpose to creation. This belief provided a framework fortheir statements about God, nature, morals, government, and social or-der. The two pastors consistently emphasized that a divine plan assuredthe interdependence and cooperation offerees and events in the universe,even if that plan was not always clear to human understanding. Mostimportant, each of the infinitely numerous parts of the universe was"connected" to every other part, and together these parts formed a per-fect whole. Sometimes the connections were obscure, and in such casesChauncy and Mayhew urged their congregations to look beyond the"second causes" to the wisdom of God as revealed in scripture. Both menassumed that a consideration of God's attributes would help overcomethe confusion one might feel when faced with the experience of seemingincompatibilities in nature.

THE HIDDEN WHOLE 19

Sometimes, however, the connections could be made more clearly.Indeed, sometimes better articulation was necessary: The natures of therelationships between good and evil, between faith and works, betweenindividual initiative and ministerial authority, and between reason andthe affections were matters of critical importance in the years after theAwakening. Coherent statements on such matters were necessary, at thevery least, as a response to certain extremist viewpoints, such as those ofthe itinerant evangelist James Davenport. In instructing the congrega-tions of First Church and West Church on these issues, Chauncy andMayhew settled on a form of theological statement that sought to bringtogether seemingly opposite elements in dialectical tension. In his way,each pastor safeguarded the concept of wholeness that lay at the core ofhis religious ideas, but clarified its meaning to allow for a more fruitfulapplication to the theological issues of the day. "Unity" was the funda-mental principle of the cosmic order, and dialectic, or "balance," was theprocess by which diverse phenomena were coherently interrelated in thewhole.

Chapter 2

Religion: a balance of public and private,reason and the affections

Charles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew saw coherence and order in the"great whole" of the cosmos, and such vision guided their thinking whenthey set out to fashion statements on points of religious doctrine. Bybuilding on the notion of wholeness, by conceiving of it as the dialecticalrelation of seeming opposites, both men were able to apply it effectivelyin treating certain theological problems. This approach eventually pro-duced a complex and sophisticated body of ideas, and it was Chauncy'sand Mayhew's inventive use of language that helped to transmit theseideas to the congregations of their Boston churches. George Lakoff andMark Johnson have recently argued that "our ordinary conceptual sys-tem, in which we both think and act, is fundamentally metaphorical innature."1 Chauncy and Mayhew sought to show how events and forcesin the universe "mutually confirmed" each other, and, by capitalizing ontheir feeling for metaphor and analogy, they injected nuances into thetheological vocabulary of the day in order to make their point.

It was Mayhew's ability to demonstrate the mutual dependence ofseemingly contradictory concepts that Harrison Gray (a West Churchmember) may have had in mind when he called Mayhew "such a Bril-liant Genius" and, in describing young Jonathan's Harvard years, statedthat he was "esteemed by the Governors of the College as the phenix ofthe Age. "2 Mayhew himself considered the ability to balance ideas, andto avoid extremes, as being among the most admirable qualities a personcould have. In his funeral sermon for Stephen Sewall, Mayhew ap-plauded the latter's conduct as a Harvard faculty member with the fol-lowing words:

It was in this capacity that his admirable spirit of government be-came manifest to all. It was in this capacity that his exquisite pru-

RELIGION 21

dence and discretion became more apparent, by his manner of con-ducting towards the youth of that society in the happiest mediumbetween too much austerity and rigor on one hand, and remissnessor familiarity on the other.3

The seeds of Mayhew's notion that extremes were to be avoided andthat mediums were to be embraced were nurtured at Harvard. In one ofhis commonplace books, Mayhew entered a note, drawn from Pascal'sPensees, that explicitly connected the middle rank of the human body inthe hierarchy of being with the limitation of human knowledge to "themiddle of things." Speaking of human understanding, Mayhew wrote:

His understanding holds the same rank in the order of beings, as hisBody in the material system: And all the Knowledge he can reach,is only to discern somewhat of the middle of things, under aneternal Despair of comprehending either their Beginning or theirEnd. . . . This middle state and condition is common to all ourFaculties. Our Senses can bear no extremes. Too much noise or toomuch light are equally fatal; and make us either deaf or blind: Toogreat Distance or too great nearness do alike hinder a Prospect andetc. - This is our real Estate; and tis this which fixeth and confinesall our Attainments within certain limits we can never pass.4

At Harvard, Mayhew concentrated his notetaking on passages thatoffered general conclusions rather than complex proofs. As Charles W.Akers writes, Jonathan "copied passages that appealed to him because oftheir metaphorical qualities and common sense rationality."5 Mayhew,indeed, also tended to copy or to paraphrase passages from Europeanwriters that relied upon analogies or hypothetical examples to make theirpoints. Mayhew's interest in such writings is, moreover, evidenced aswell by his distaste for "metaphysical proofs," if, again, his choices innotetaking are used as a guide. From Pascal he drew the followingthought.

The Metaphysical Proofs of God are so very intricate, and so farremoved from the common reasonings of Men, that they strikewith little force; or, at best, the impression continues but for a shortSpace. . . . Again all of the arguments of this abstracted kind areable to lead us no farther than to a Speculative knowledge of God:and to know him only thus, is in effect not to know him at all.6

Suspicion of metaphysical proofs, coupled with the sense of humaninability to comprehend anything outside of the "middle state" of thingsadded up to the necessity for open-mindedness. For Mayhew, extremepoints of view were to be avoided, because they closed the mind to


further learning. From "Dr. Watts Supplement to his Logic"7 Mayhewcopied advice against dogmatism in one's thinking: "Maintain a constantWatch at all Times against a Dogmatical Spirit. A dogmatical Spirit hasmany Inconveniences in it: as it shuts the Ear against all further reasoningupon that Subject, and shuts the Mind from all further Improvements ofKnowledge."8

Advice such as this was well taken by the Harvard student and itsimpression evidenced by Mayhew's similar statement concerning impar-tiality in Seven Sermons (1749). Openness to all arguments relevant to aparticular matter was crucial, and one ought especially take care to con-sider both sides of an issue. Mayhew wrote: "Free examination, weigh-ing arguments for, and against, with impartiality, is the way to find thetruth."9 Mayhew offered guidelines for "a man's judging for himselfwith freedom."10 For an individual to make a sound decision, wroteMayhew, it is imperative "that he suspends his judgement entirely con-cerning the truth or falsehood of all doctrines; and the fitness or unfitnessof all actions; till such time as he sees some reason to determine hisjudgement one way rather than the other."11 Most important, the mindmust be allowed to rest "in aequilibrio," drawn neither one way nor theother, so that bias does not affect judgment: "He that desires to come tothe knowledge of truth, puts himself in a state of indijferency with regardto the point to be judged of, so that his mind, being as it were, inaequilibrio, his judgement may be determined solely by reason and argu-ment."12 With an open mind, one is then ready to consider the pros andcons of the matter in question, "weighing arguments and evidences thatoffer themselves to us."13 Finally, then, one gives assent to truth in"proportion" to "the nature and degree of the apparent evidence."14

Such an unbiased method of reasoning, Mayhew believed, wouldavoid the danger of the taking of an extreme position in one's judgment.Indeed, the purpose of putting the mind "in aequilibrio" was to ensurethat a moderate judgment, one that did not attempt to overstep thebounds of the human "middle state," would be made. Comparing ex-tremes on either side of the human middle to "scylla" and "carybdis,"Mayhew affirmed that the middle way was the "safe way": "For themoral world, as well as the natural, has its rocks and whirlpools', its scyllaand carybdis, and a thousand enchanting sirens. To know the middle andsafe way, will not secure us, unless we keep to it, and avoid the danger oneither hand."15

Judgment "in aequilibrio" that kept to the middle way led for May-hew to the recognition of "mediums." An unbiased decision almostalways consisted in the discernment of a ground upon which extremesdissolved into each other, into a "medium" that included aspects of eachside of an argument or a situation. In Sermons on the Following Subjects

RELIGION 23

(1755), Mayhew's lengthy statement on Christian piety, the model ofChristian behavior is characterized as a medium between overzealousscrupulosity and thoughtless action: "But surely, if there is any suchthing as religion, there is a medium betwixt a superstitious, sullen, oraffected gravity at the public worship, and that tho'tless levity ofbehaviour. . . ."16

Charles Chauncy, like Mayhew, upheld the necessity for an "undog-matical spirit." As Edward M. Griffin comments in his biography ofChauncy, Edward Wigglesworth, Chauncy's teacher at Harvard, pro-vided for the young Chauncy the model of an open mind. It was Wig-glesworth's method of presenting both sides of an issue that impressedChauncy, and it was this lack of rigidity in Wigglesworth that Chauncypraised decades later:

He is highly deserving of being remembered with honor, not onlyon account of his character as a man of learning, piety, and useful-ness in his day, strength of mind, largeness of understanding, andan extraordinary talent of reasoning with clearness and the mostnervous cogency, but on account also of his catholic spirit andconduct, notwithstanding great temptations to the contrary. Hewas one of the most candid men you ever saw; far removed frombigotry, no ways rigid in his attachment to any scheme, yet steadyto his own principles, but at the same time charitable to others,though they widely differed from him. He was, in one word, atruly great and excellent man.17

Even when he had reasoned to a certain theological position, Chauncytook care in expressing his opinion, waiting for the appropriate time andplace so as not to appear "extreme." Characteristic of this caution wasChauncy's decision to postpone publication of several provocativetreatises he had worked on in the decade of the 1750s. The Benevolenceof the Deity (1784), Five Dissertations on the Scripture Account of the Fall(1785), and The Mystery Hid from Ages and Generations, Made Manifestby the Gospel Revelation: or, The Salvation of All Men (1784) were, as Grif-fin notes, "substantially worked out before 1760," and The Benevolenceof the Deity, in all likelihood, as early as 1756, but Chauncy delayedtheir publication for at least twenty-five years, because he was concernedthat they would make him appear too revolutionary in his religiousideas.18 Indeed, ideas contained in these treatises were a departure fromprevious Puritan theology. Nevertheless, they should be understood notas amendments to or a revision of Chauncy's theology in the 1740s to1760s but rather as an integral part of his thinking in those years, as abalance or complement to more conservative arguments in his publishedwork. Although they were not published until the 1780s, these treatises


were part of a vision that was already in place by the mid 1750s, andought to be seen in connection with those writings of Chauncy's thatbear a publication date in the earlier period.

The concern for avoiding extremes that was characteristic of thethought of Chauncy and Mayhew was in accord with Puritan tradition,and particularly with the overall Puritan conception of religion itself as amiddle ground, or balance, of personal and collective experience. AsPerry Miller demonstrated in The New England Mind: The SeventeenthCentury, the discourses on logic fashioned by the sixteenth-centuryDutch philosopher Petrus Ramus deeply influenced the Puritan concep-tion of the world. According to Ramist logic, the cosmos was structuredin dichotomous relationships: Some of those relationships were "ad-verses," or total opposites, such as hot and cold, while others were "rela-tives" or things symbiotically related. "Relatives," said Ramus, weretwo elements that were the mutual cause and effect of each other. Truereligion, reasoned the earliest New Englanders, consisted generally oftwo relatives, the individual element and the collective element, whichhung together out of their own mutual need.19

The common impression of the typical English Puritan as an intro-spective, diary-writing, morally conscientious individualist is probablyaccurate. It is also incomplete. To concern for the fate of his or her soulmust be added the Puritan's sense of connectedness to others of the elect.No less a Puritan leader than William Perkins insisted that the "calling"through which one strove for sanctification was unmistakably social incharacter. Indeed, he declared: "And that common saying, Every man forhimself, and God for us all, is wicked, and is directly against the end ofevery calling or honest kind of life. "20

William Ames, addressing the topic of "human society" in The Marrowof Sacred Divinity, taught that the "solitary life" was an offense against thewill of God:

Within this society men are to serve each other in the mutual dutiesof justice and love so that they may exercise and show forth thereligion which they profess in the worship of God.

The solitary life which some hermits have chosen as angelic andothers embrace for different reasons is so far from perfection that itis wholly contrary to the law and will of God, unless dictated bysome extraordinary reason (which can avail only for a time).

Human society provides the foundation to all the offices of jus-tice and love commanded in the second table of the law. Transgres-sions which lead directly to the disturbance, confusion, and over-throw of this society are more grievous sins than breaches of theindividual commandments.21

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Thomas Goodwin used the term "diffusive" to describe the social orien-tation of the regenerate individual. The path by which such a "newcreature" comes nearest to God,

as the heathen Cicero said, is nothing more than doing good toothers. Yea, we find in Scripture the new creature compared untoall things that are diffusive of themselves, as partaking with them inthis, which is the common property. Thus, it is compared to fire;one coal that hath fire in it enkindles another.22

The New England Puritans were as concerned about the social body asEnglishmen such as Perkins and Ames. The religious vision of WilliamBradford's Of Plymouth Plantation is unmistakably social, and JohnWinthrop's speech aboard the Arbella in 1630 stressed that "wee must beknitt together in this worke as one man. "23

The "social" sense that such Puritans as Perkins, Ames and Winthropdemonstrated has been noted by historians of English and AmericanPuritanism. For Alan Simpson, the essence of Puritanism was "an expe-rience of conversion which separates the Puritan from the mass of man-kind," but, nevertheless, regeneration and sanctification for the Puritan"were to be sought within tribal community."24 M. M. Knappen, in hisclassic study of Tudor Puritanism argued that personal piety was thedistinguishing mark of Puritanism. But, noted Knappen, "almost equal-ly important in the Puritan's makeup was the fine balance he maintainedbetween individualism and the needs of the social order."25 Perry Miller,writing about Puritanism in seventeenth-century America, plainly statedthe connection between the individual and society: "For the Puritanmind, it was not possible to segregate a man's spiritual life from hiscommunal life." Miller continued:

There was, it is true, a strong element of individualism in thePuritan creed; every man had to work out his own salvation, eachsoul had to face his maker alone. But at the same time, the Puritanphilosophy demanded that in society all men, at least all regeneratemen, be marshalled into one united array.26

Mayhew and Chauncy upheld the principle of balance that was presentin earlier Puritanism, but the two men did not inherit the vision directly- that is, in an unbroken line of descent - from their intellectual fore-bears. It was necessary for Mayhew and Chauncy to "remember" fortheir generation that which one or two earlier generations had forgotten,namely, that religion was indeed a balance of individual and social ele-ments. The "forgetting" of this early Puritan balance had come about intwo ways: (1) It was the result of the transformation of the piety of theseventeenth century New England holy commonwealths (a transforma-


tion that led to social, "moralistic" religion) and (2) it took place as a partof the Great Awakening.

As the New England towns grew, their founders discovered that re-ligious piety was not as visible in their children as they had expected it tobe. The second and third generations of New Englanders simply did notgive the evidence of regeneration, as their parents had, that would allowthem to take up their places as citizens with full civil rights in the holycommonwealth. The Halfway Covenant (1662) and Stoddardeanism -compromise solutions designed to draw those unsure of their conversionmore fully into church life - exemplify the Puritan realization that theconnection between the "inner life" of the individual and his social lifewas changing. What Perry Miller called a period of religious "declen-sion" in the latter part of the seventeenth and the early eighteenth centurywas, in fact, a rearrangement of the relationship of the regenerate indi-vidual to colonial society.

Though the spiritual life of New Englanders became less visible - thatis, more private or personal - it did not decline in quality. Norman Pettithas argued that Stoddardeanism in fact established conditions more con-ducive to spiritual growth than the circumstances of life in earlier NewEngland society. By doing away with the necessity for public "proofs"of conversion, Stoddard reestablished the sanctity of the inner life: "Thisreturn to the sanctity of the inner life, immune from the probings ofothers, gave rise to a genuine sense of spiritual release."27 The inner lifemay have become less visible, but it remained a strong undercurrent inPuritan New England.

This is not to say that social life - less connected to personal religiousexperience - then degenerated into immorality. On the contrary, Pu-ritans analyzed it and monitored it more closely than ever. Though thetheocratic designs of the first settlers were now outdated, there neverthe-less remained a strong impulse for morality. In the late seventeenth andearly eighteenth century we find what Miller calls "the socialization ofpiety," with Cotton Mather's Essays To Do Good (1710) as the primeexample of the literature that characterized this stage of New EnglandPuritanism. Rather than describing the trials and victories of the soul, asSibbes, Goodwin, and Cotton had done, Mather focused instead onsocial life, and encouraged the performance of certain good works -caring for widows, helping the poor — as the essential concern of thespiritual life. The primary concern of the church was to guide the indi-vidual along a path of "right" actions toward salvation. Regenerationwas important, but everyday morality was more important.28 One way,then, in which the Puritan balance came undone was in the rise of "moralreligion," which stressed social over individual aspects of religion.

Another more sudden deterioration of balance in religion came with

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the revival of religion in the 1740s. Profound religious conversions werethe hallmark of this revival. Ministers preached for conversions. Individ-uals sought their own conversions. Solemn church meetings were trans-formed into demonstrations of weeping, singing, clapping, and shout-ing. One's personal experience, rather than correct social behavior,became almost overnight the most important element of the Christianlife. As Richard L. Bushman writes: "The truly revolutionary aspect ofthe Awakening was the dilution of the divine sanction in traditionalinstitutions and the investiture of authority in some inward experience.Thereby the church lost power, and individuals gained it."29

Jonathan Edwards, recounting the first sign of the Awakening in NewEngland in 1734, sensed from the beginning that "inward experience"posed a direct challenge to the "do-good" religion of that time.

In the fall of that year I proposed it to the young people, that theyshould agree among themselves to spend the evenings after lecturesin social religion, and to that end divide themselves into companiesto meet in various parts of the town.

And then it was, in the latter part of December that the Spirit ofGod began to extraordinarily set in, and wonderfully to workamongst us; and there were, very suddenly, one after another, fiveor six persons, who were to all appearances savingly converted,and some of them wrought upon in a very remarkable manner.

[Persons] now seemed to follow their worldly business, more asa part of their duty, than from any disposition they had to it; thetemptation now seemed to lie on that hand, to neglect worldlyaffairs too much, and to spend too much time in the immediateexercise of religion . . . reading and praying and such like religiousexercises.30

Edwards nevertheless believed that the revival of religion in North-ampton, and in the colonies in general in the Whitefield years of 1740-1,was a blessing, not a curse. More than any other minister at the time,Edwards took the responsibility for defending the revival against theaccusations of Charles Chauncy and the Old Light (antirevival) clergy.Chauncy caricatured the revival as an excessive, self-indulgent display ofemotionalism and self-righteousness that would, if left unchecked, end inthe overthrow of the established clergy and the creation of ecclesiasticalanarchy. Indeed, Chauncy and his party did have legitimate reason toworry. The physical and emotional displays at revival meetings werenew to the New England churches. In contrast to the traditionally com-posed and ordered demeanor of church meetings, these displays couldeasily have been interpreted as signals of the coming anarchy.31

In published accounts of revivals, in letters describing them, and in


essays debating their worth, the usual behavior of the participants isoften elaborately and nearly always colorfully described. Thomas Par-sons, describing a revival meeting in Lyme, Connecticut, wrote of"bodily agitations" of the participants and noted that "persons may bethrown into Hysterisms, Faintings, Out-Cries, etc." George Griswoldlikewise noted that "outcries, faintings and fits were oft at meetings."Gilbert Tennent commented that "some have been carried out of theassembly (being overcome) as if dead." Jonathan Edwards mentioned the"tears, trembling, groans, loud out-cries, agonies of the body, or thefailing of bodily strength." And Charles Chauncy disapproved of the"violent effects on the bodies of men; causing them to shriek out, falldown, and swoon away; and in brief, to have on them all the symptomof bodily distress and agony." And in a particularly poetic momentChauncy referred to the "bodily agitations, Convulsions, Tremblings,Swoonings, . . . Groanings, Quakings, Foamings, and Faintings."32

But even more than these physical expressions of the "affections," thewritings and sermons of revivalist preachers evidence the new concernfor the individual that emerged with the revival. The emphases thatrevivalists laid upon the conversion experience and as well upon theinternal assurance of one's own salvation were a radical departure fromthe social, outwardly oriented religion of the preceding decades.

Jonathan Edwards occupied himself throughout the decade of the1740s with psychological and historical analyses of the revival. In ATreatise Concerning Religious Affections (1746) he set forth his conclusion inclear terms: "Upon the whole, I think it clearly and abundantly evident,that true religion lies very much in the affections." Edwards repeatedlystressed the importance of "internal evidence" of the gospel, as opposedto its intellectual persuasiveness. That is, Edwards claimed that an indi-vidual could fully perceive the "truth" of the gospel only after he had firstgained a "spiritual understanding" of the glory of God.

The sense of the spiritual excellence and beauty of divine things,also tends directly to convince the mind of the truth of the gospel.Very many of the most important things declared in the gospel arehid from the eyes of men, the truth of which in effect consists inthis excellency, or so immediately depends upon it, and resultsfrom it, that in this excellency being seen, the truth of those thingsis seen.33

Edwards thus broke decisively with his immediate theological roots inNew England, by focusing essentially upon the personal relationshipbetween the individual and the Deity, and by arguing for the indispen-sability of a "spiritual understanding" through that relationship. For Ed-wards, the regenerate Christian life was no longer characterized essen-

RELIGION 29

tially by correct moral action - though that was still important - but wasunderstood instead to consist above all in a stirring of the religious affec-tions to "spiritual conviction" within the individual.

The itinerant evangelist George Whitefield, whose trip through thecolonies in 1740-1 marked the high point of the revival, stressed, likeEdwards, the "experimental knowledge" of God as indispensable toone's salvation: "None ever were, or ever will be received up into glory,but by an experimental application of his [Christ's] merits to their heart."Whitefield also self-consciously broke with the theological opinions ofearly eighteenth-century "moralists":

The sum of the matter is this: Christianity includes morality, asgrace does reason, but if we are only mere Moralists, if we are notinwardly wrought upon, and changed by the powerful operationsof the Holy Spirit, and our moral actions proceed from a principleof a new nature . . . then we shall be found [unworthy] at the greatday.34

Inwardness was what suddenly counted in salvation. Preaching fromthis point of view, Jonathan Parsons demonstrated an argumentativestrategy common to almost all who encouraged the Awakening when heasked of critics of the Awakening: "I would put another Question to suchPersons which may be as necessary to be resolved this Day as the former,and that is whether they ever experimentally knew what a Work of savingGrace upon the soul was\"35 For Parsons and most of the Calvinist clergy,there was little point in engaging in discussion with opponents of therevival on the matter of "externals" until those opponents acknowledgedthe importance of the internal. Moreover, among those who encouragedthe revival, the investigation of "inwardness" and the "religious affec-tions" was carried on with the same intensity with which colonial clergyhad calculated the variety of ways in which one could "do good." Ed-wards, of course, was the most perceptive and eloquent among thosewho attempted to explore the psychology of religious experience. But hewas by no means alone. Jonathan Dickinson, in The Witness of the Spirit(1740), went so far as to set forth a six-point program designed to elicitone's "inner" experience of the Spirit. In language similar to that ofmodern self-help books, Dickinson described the path to "the witness ofthe Spirit."

1. Take it for granted that the witness of the Spirit is Attainable.Others have attained it, and why not may you, as well as others?

2. The diligent Hand maketh Rich. If you are doubtful and Remiss,you must expect to be dark and doubtful about your state. Butup and be doing; and you may hope that the Lord will be withyou.


3. Be constant in self-examination.4. Be very watchful. Watch over your Hearts, your Thoughts, and

Affections.5. Labor to evidence the Truth of Grace in your Hearts, by the

present exercise of it.6. Finally acknowledge the Evidences of your gracious State so far

as you see them.36

In the 174OS-5OS, then, part of the clergy sided with the revival em-phasis upon private "inner" experience, and another part of the clergyclung to the principles of social "moralistic" religion. Trying carefully toavoid an "extreme," Mayhew and Chauncy attempted to draw backtogether the individual and social aspects of religion. They accomplishedthis, first, by shaping a religious individualism that blended reason withthe affections, and secondly, by balancing that individualism with anemphasis on the social elements in religion (morality and public, institu-tionalized means of grace).

It is clear that Chauncy and Mayhew did not object to the revivalists'claims for the importance of the affections. As early as his Harvard days,and perhaps earlier, Mayhew had given the affections a central positionin his understanding of religion. One of his notes on Pascal reads: "TheHeart has its Arguments and motives, with which the Reason is notacquainted. We feel this in a thousand Instances. It is the Heart and notthe Reason which has properly the perception of God. God, sensible tothe Heart, is the most compendious Description of true and perfectfaith. "37

About the time that he was taking this line from Pascal, he was writingto his brother about the revival. Having gone to York, Maine, "to get aright Understanding of Affairs there with Respect to Religion," he en-thusiastically described what he saw:

The Spirit seems to set the Word home in a very extraordinaryManner. . . . When I have seen and heard them blessing and prais-ing the adored Jesus, I have frequently thought of the childrencrying out Hosanna to the Son of David, Hosanna in the Highest!. . . May our souls be more & more inflamed with the Love ofChrist, and grow warmer and warmer in our devotions to him, tillwe arrive at the Regions of Immortal Glory, where we shall neverknow any coldness of Affection, and where Hosannas shall neverlanguish on our Tongues.38

Mayhew's approval of the revival is clear beyond doubt from suchlanguage, and from his summary statement: "With my whole Soul blessGod for it, that here is a Revival of Religion. "39

RELIGION 31

The positive impression the revival made upon Mayhew as a youngman is detectable in all of Mayhew's later thinking. In The Duty ofReligious Thankfulness Explainyd and Inculcated (1758) Mayhew wrote:"For it may be asked, if a man is wholly sensible of the worth of thoseblessings which he enjoys . . . and therefore is rationally convinced thatthey flow from the divine grace and bounty, is he not truly thankful toGod for them?"40

The answer, he declared, was no, becauseno opinion, no judgement which the mind, or rational faculty,forms concerning the goodness and mercy of God, however trueand just, is itself religious thankfulness. That consists, as beforeobserved, in certain operations of the heart, corresponding to theserational and just conceptions of the head, or intellectual faculty; indevout and warm affections, ascending to God like incense fromthe altar.41

Mayhew was emphatic that the affections were the "proper seat" ofreligious thankfulness:

Religious thankfulness is distinguished, not only from the meresensation of joy on account of the blessings received; but also froma mere speculative notion in the head, and all the operations of thatwhich is peculiarly and strictly called, the intellectual or rationalfaculty in man; the heart or affections, as distinguished therefrom,being the proper seat of it.42

Just as Mayhew made no objection to a place for the "heart" in re-ligion, he saw nothing wrong with passion in a more general sense. InChristian Sobriety he argued that "anger, or wrath, is a passion that isnatural to mankind and born with us as our other passions are. "43 Whatwas "natural" was for Mayhew what was good and useful, and it was onthese grounds that he likewise upheld the place of the passion of "mirth"as a "natural, comely, and useful passion."44 Passions were from God,and God had provided for their balanced exercise: "The infinitely wiseand beneficent Author of nature, and of all the social passions, affections,and instincts in mankind, has, by his express laws and institutions, madeprovision for the regular, virtuous and honorable gratification ofthem."45

Chauncy, like Mayhew, upheld the place of the affections in religiouslife. Though Chauncy was the most outspoken critic of the revival, atbattle with Jonathan Edwards over the merits of the revival throughoutthe 1740s, he in no way rejected the importance of the affections in thereligious life. In Seasonable Thoughts, a criticism of the revival, Chauncyupheld the place of the passions: "There is, no doubt, a good Use to be


made of the Passions - they were not in vain planted in our Nature - butbecause widely adapted to serve many purposes, in the religious as well asthe natural life."46 In Ministers Cautioned against the Occasions of Contempt(1744) the message was the same: The affections "have their Use inReligion, and it may serve a great many good purposes to excite andwarm them."47

Chauncy and Mayhew did not unqualifiedly support the place of theaffections in religion, however. They insisted that the affections be bal-anced with a more sober sort of "private" religion, one that allowed aplace for reason. They were concerned, of course, that an emphasis upononly the affections might lead to an extreme, especially in the hands ofsuch overstoked preachers as James Davenport and Gilbert Tennent.48 Inexplaining this, Chauncy used the exact metaphor that Edwards - him-self a more sober defender of the revival than Davenport or Tennent -had used to describe the relationship between the affections and under-standing. Edwards, credited by Edwin Gaustad and other scholars withhaving considered religion as an "organic whole,"49 wrote: "Holy affec-tions are not heat without light; but evermore arise from some informa-tion of the understanding, some spiritual instruction the mind receives,some light or actual knowledge."50 Chauncy used the same example inarguing that a balance was necessary:

To be sure the Understanding ought not to be neglected. Light andHeat should always go together, and keep pace with each other.Nor unless there is a due Proportion of the former, will it turn toany good Account if there be ever so much of the latter: Nay, Heatin the Affections, without light in the Mind, will serve rather tomake men wild, than religious.51

When the balance was upset, when passion and understanding nolonger "kept pace with each other," disorder resulted. This was the cruxof Chauncy's criticism of the revival: The affections had become impor-tant out of all proportion to understanding, with the result that personswere acting, as Chauncy accused the revivalist James Davenport of act-ing, "under no influence than that of an over-heated imagination."52

Mayhew generally used the term "restrained" to describe the role ofreason in overseeing the affections, but he most commonly intended bythat term to refer to a balance that was necessary between reason andpassion. Indeed, reason and passion cooperated with each other in foster-ing love of God, preventing, by their mutual presence, gravitation to anextreme either of enthusiasm or mere speculation. "Love of God," May-hew wrote,

is indeed a passion, but a passion excited by reason presenting theproper object of it to the mind. Nor ought we be so solicitous

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about avoiding one extreme, as to fall into the contrary. We oughtnot to run so far from enthusiasm, as to lose sight of real devotion;we ought not to be so fond of a rational religion, as to suppose thatreligion consists wholly in cold, dry speculation, without havingany concern with the affections.53

Where "rational conceptions" were combined with passion of the heart,faith was present:

Right conceptions, I mean rational and truly scriptural ones, ofGod's adorable attributes, are the foundation of all true religion.And these conceptions, if, instead of floating in the brain, they sinkinto the heart, and are formed into a fixed principle there, calledFAITH in the language of scripture; are really the substance ofreligion.54

Stress of the rational alongside the affections - the so-called super-natural rationalism of Mayhew and Chauncy - was drawn from thetheological works the two men most often cite, namely, the writings ofTillotson, Locke, and Clarke.55 This supernatural rationalism includedsome of the moralistic emphasis of New Englanders such as CottonMather, but went beyond Mather in its claim for the capability of theindividual, guided by reason, to make "private judgments" about thetruth of religious ideas.

John Tillotson (1630-94), Archbishop of Canterbury, was one of themost renowned preachers of his day, and his fame was partially a productof his ability to communicate new and difficult ideas in straightforwardprose. In terms of its effects upon later English and American theolo-gians, Tillotson's thinking may be distilled into a system of short propo-sitions. First, religion is to be judged valuable because it establishes thelegitimate grounds for morality. Secondly, the fact that there is a Godwho demands virtuous action on the part of persons, is given in naturalreligion. Thirdly, natural religion has not, however, functioned effec-tively, and to it must be added revelation. Tillotson described the rela-tionship between natural and revealed religion as follows: "Natural re-ligion is the foundation of all revealed religion, and revelation is designedsimply to establish its duties."56 Fourthly, Christ, the Son of God, hasprovided the example of virtuous living that Christians ought to follow.In The Example of Jesus in Doing Good, Tillotson declared that "religion,indeed, did always consist in an imitation of God, and in our resemblanceof those excellences which shine forth in the best and most perfect Being;but we imitate him now with much greater ease and advantage, sinceGod was pleased to become man on purpose to shew us how many menmay become like to God. "57 In general, Tillotson underlined the rational,commonsensical character of Christianity, and played down the impor-


tance of the inwardness of religion, of the experience of a divinepresence.

John Locke (163 2-1704) set forth specific philosophical arguments onthe topic of natural religion, and thus provided a good portion of theintellectual backbone for the sermons of preachers such as Tillotson. InAn Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690) Locke asserted that allknowledge comes from experience, and none of it is innate in the world.The mind is like "white paper, devoid of all characters."58 Men thus haveno innate idea of God, but can, through reason, reach the conclusion thatGod exists. Natural religion thus existed for Locke, but he made a dis-tinction in his analysis of sensual knowledge and reason that left open thedoor for revelation. According to Locke, there is some knowledge that is"above reason." Not to be confused with propositions that are "contraryto reason," this knowledge does not provide the senses with sufficientdata to make possible a judgment of its truth or probability. Locke goeson to the matter of revelation specifically:

There being many things wherein we have very imperfect notionsor none at all; and other things of whose past, present, or futureexistence by the natural use of our faculties we can have no knowl-edge at all; these, as being beyond the knowledge of our naturalfaculties and above reason are, when revealed the proper matter offaith. Thus, that part of the angels rebelled against, and thereby losttheir first happy state; and that the dead shall rise and live again:these and the like being beyond the discovery of reason, are purelymatters of faith with which reason has directly nothing to do.59

Locke thus attempted to infuse into his rational empiricism an elementof supernaturalism. But, like Tillotson, he guarded the authority of thatrevelation by insisting that it was only through the evidence of miraclesthat a revelation could be considered divine. In his Discourse on Miracles(1706) he wrote that a miracle "is a sensible operation, which being abovethe comprehension of the spectatore and in his opinion contrary to theestablished course of nature, is taken by him to be divine. "60 The purposeof the miracle is "to witness his mission from God who delivers therevelation," and nothing else.

In terms more precise than Tillotson, and perhaps less appealing thanTillotson's grand sermons because of that, Locke set out the terms onwhich natural religion could be defended in the philosophical discourseof the day. Anthony Collins and the Irishman John Toland were twowriters who drew directly upon Locke to defend natural religion.61 Sam-uel Clarke (1675-1729) was an Anglican theologian and philosopher whoadvanced the case for supernatural rationalism as much as Locke orTillotson, but from an entirely different angle. Clarke rejected the em-

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pirical philosophy of Locke and stressed instead the fundamental role ofinnate ideas.

Clarke argued for the autonomy of morality, and for the discernment,through reason, of the relations or "fitnesses" which exist betweenthings, and which constitute that morality. But, argued Clarke, humanlusts and passions often prevent the discernment of "fitnesses," and thuspersons might not recognize the obligation they are under, as rationalcreatures, to act in accordance with the rational, moral order of thecosmos. Thus, a system of rewards and punishments has been estab-lished by God, who has revealed them in the Christian religion. Thisrevelation appeals to persons because of its plain rationality and its ob-vious excellence in bringing about happiness through virtuous living.62

In America, supernatural rationalism developed from the propositionsthat Tillotson, Locke, and Clarke were setting forth in the late seven-teenth and early eighteenth century. After the charter of 1691 had madeMassachusetts a royal colony - an act that, among other things, removedthe church-membership qualification that had been required of voters -New Englanders were drawn into more active participation in Englishpolitical and intellectual life. Perry Miller pointed out that "the magicword in the new mode was 'Reason.' As soon as the charter broughtBoston closer to the orbit of London, New England heard that reasonhad become, as never before, the passport to respectability. . . . Sin is,suddenly, violence against the principles of reason. "63

In the hands of such early-eighteenth-century interpreters as CottonMather, Benjamin Colman (God Deals with Us as Rational Creatures[1723]), and Jonathan's father, Experience Mayhew (A Discourse ShewingThat God Deals with Us as Rational Creatures [1720]), these English ideasdid not lead to an individualistic religion, but to social religion. It wasassumed that conversation, argument, and, most important, classroomstudy of the rules of logic, etc. - all of which were distinctly socialenterprises - provided the best nurture for reason. Reason and judgmentwere shaped by learning, and as the clergy as a whole were the bestequipped to teach, the status of the minister as a learned spiritual guiderose, religion became increasingly social, and the cultivation of reasonwas advanced. Mather's Manuductio ad Ministerium: Directions for a Candi-date for the Ministry (1726) reflects the attitude that the cultivation ofreason and discernment was a matter of careful conversation and study:

Rules of Behaviour . . . are best learnt by a Wise Observation ofwhat you see passes in the conversation of Politer People. . . . TheTruth is; the most exact and constant Rules of Behaviour, will befound Rules of Christianity: For which Cause it pleased our Glori-ous Redeemer more than once to give them. Every Christian as far


as he keeps to his own Rules will be so far a gentleman. And for thisCause, I again advise you to a Careful Study of them.64

Toward the middle of the eighteenth century, faith in reason wasenlarged, while at the same time it was loosened somewhat from itssocial context. American writers began to suggest that the kernel ofreason implanted in each person might best develop in an environmentthat encouraged private, personal intellectual exploration as much as itdid the mastery of "rules" and a specific curriculum. It is possible that thesame impulses toward individualism that came to expression in theAwakening's stress upon "inferiority" and the affections influenced cer-tain of the mid-eighteenth-century clergy toward this point of view. Inany event, it is clear that in the wake of the revival, reverence for reasoncame to be more closely linked with faith in individual self-improve-ment. Jonathan Mayhew, Charles Chauncy, and their close friend atnearby Hingham, the Reverend Ebenezer Gay, were three of the leadingproponents of this view. Mayhew's The Right and Duty of Private Judge-ment (1749) suggested the direction of this movement with the assertion:"Now if it be of any importance for us to be happy to ourselves, it is ofimportance to us to judge for ourselves also; for this is absolutely neces-sary in order to our finding the path that leads to happiness. "65 Chauncy,whose sermons were laced with references to "self-improvement," like-wise stressed that the cultivation of reason was a form of personal im-provement that led to personal rewards:

This method of man's attaining to the perfection he was made for,affords not only the most natural occasion for the various exerciseof his implanted powers, but constantly presents the most reason-able call for his exercise. . . . For these improvements, in all theirdegrees, in the present view of them, are at once the result of thedue use of implanted powers and the reward of the use of them. 66

Ebenezer Gay, well known for his 1759 Dudleian lecture - an argu-ment for the compatibility of reason and religion titled Natural ReligionAs Distinguish }d from Revealed - drew directly on Clarke for a considera-bly bolder statement:

Man is not merely so much lumpish Matter, or a mechanical Engine,that moves only by the Direction of an impelling Force, but he hatha Principle of Action within himself, and is an Agent in the Strictand Proper Sense of the Word. The special Endowment of hisNature, which constitutes him such, is the Power of Self-Deter-mination, or Freedom of Choice; his being possessed of which is asself-evident, as the Explanation of the Manner of its operating isdifficult.67

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The religious individualism of Chauncy and Mayhew was a balance offaith in rationalist self-improvement and affectional "inner" experience.But Chauncy and Mayhew did not stress only the individual aspects ofreligion. In the wider context of their thought, their individualism wasitself balanced by an emphasis upon the social elements in religion. Thissocial emphasis was characterized by a devotion to ecclesiastical institu-tions - a devotion that Mayhew and Chauncy had inherited from CottonMather and other New England clerical forefathers. Moreover, the au-thority of the minister was, for them, the key to the survival of eccle-siastical institutions. As Bushman writes, the opponents of the revival,

bound to conventional law and authority, still believed that eccle-siastical institutions were the "plain, revealed Will of Christ." Ar-guing that "the Validity of Administration depends not upon theFaith and Holiness of the Minister . . . but on a man's havingChrist's Commission" received in a proper ordination, they fore-saw chaos if men judged the validity of authority for themselves.68

The charge of "unfitness" that some revivalist preachers leveledagainst ministers who did not evidence an emotional conversion seemedto Chauncy to be potentially destructive of the entire religious order ofNew England. Such loss, Chauncy declared, could not possibly be di-vinely ordained: "The divine, ever-blessed SPIRIT is consistent with him-self. He cannot be supposed to be the author of any private revelationsthat are contradictory to the public standing ones, which he has preservedin the world to this day."69

It was this matter of the relation of private to public that brought intofocus for Chauncy all of the other problems of religion in the mid eigh-teenth century. For Chauncy, public worship was essential to the Chris-tian life, and participation in the Lord's Supper as a "means of grace" wasespecially important. In 1739 Chauncy vigorously warned against ne-glecting the institutionalized means of grace:

For there is Danger in neglecting the Sacrament, as well as in coming toit in an unprepared Manner; and the Danger of a total Neglect is cer-tainly much greater, than a meer Defect in the Measure of Preparation,'Tis a fault to come to the Sacrament, unless we are in some goodmeasure prepared: 'Tis a Fault likewise, and a greater fault, totallyto abstain.70

Pleading that his reason for the frequent use of the "means of grace" beconsidered, Chauncy concluded his sermon with the words: "O be per-suaded by the Arguments wherein you have been compelled! And let itby your speedy Care to come to the Sacrament. "71

Like Mayhew, Chauncy believed that the presentation of "reason and

38 THE H I D D E N BALANCE

argument" was the duty of a minister. The "only compulsion" a ministerwas allowed in guiding his congregation to holiness was "sound Reason-ing, good Argument."72 Rationality was the bridge between privatejudgment and ministerial authority. Chauncy first emphasized humanrationality: "As Men are rational, free agents, they can't be religious but bythtfree Consent of their Wills, and this can be gain'd in no Way, but Reasonand Persuasion. "73 Added to this was an instruction to ministers in how to"compel" but yet not undermine free consent. Ministers should "applyto their Reason and Conscience; inform their Understanding; convincetheir Judgements; make Use of those Persuasions, lay before them thoseMotives and Arguments, which will leave them inexcusable, if they arenot wri't upon."74

Straightforward advice such as this masks the complexity of the issue,however. Chauncy often attributed substantially more authority to aminister than such a statement would suggest. He likewise at times sopointedly emphasized the freedom of individuals that pressure of anysort on the direction of one's spiritual life might be consideredinterference.

For Chauncy, the minister held an office that clearly separated himfrom other persons: "There should be officers in the church, an order ofmen to whom it should belong as their proper, stated work, to exhort andteach, that cannot be the business of others."75 Moreover, a minister"ought certainly to be a Man above the common level for naturalCapacities."76 Chauncy pointed out that Paul, in his instructions toTitus, "is very particular in minding him of the necessary Qualifications forthe sacred Office, that he might put none into it, who were not fit for soimportant a Trust."77 So rigid were the qualifications, and so importantwas the office, that one ought to censor the attempts o£"private Christiansin quitting their own proper station, to act in that which belongs toanother. Such a practice as this naturally tends to destroy that order, Godhas constituted in the church."78 Even in the "body mystical" it waswrong for all except the distinguished few to serve in the ministerialoffice: "There is in the body of CHRIST, the Church, a distinction ofmembers. Some intended for one use, others for another; and that itwould bring confusion into the body mystical, for one member to beemployed in that service which is adapted to another, and is its properbusiness."79

The duty of ministers was to impress upon their congregations thetruth of certain doctrines. It was assumed that the minister could detectthe truth, and in this rested his authority. His extensive "naturalcapacities," and his special qualifications - which probably ought toinclude a Harvard diploma80 - gave him that authority. His learning anddiscernment enabled him to see the truth of scripture. He was paid asalary to transmit it.

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But there was a legitimacy to private judgment that challenged theauthority of the clergy. Chauncy believed that humans were "endowedwith rational and moral powers."81 Of the ability to tell good from evil,Chauncy wrote: "What a noble implantation is this power of our na-ture?"82 But Chauncy was particularly interested in what he called thepower of "self-determination," which "gives rise to our volitions, andsubsequent actions, and is, in true propriety, the cause of them."83 In-deed, this power occupied a preeminent place among all of the endowedpowers: "The plain truth is, such a power in men as will make themcauses, of their volitions, and the effects consequent upon them, is thegrand supporting pillar of the world, considered as moral. Take thisaway and it at once falls into defolation and ruin. "84

Persons are capable of functioning as moral agents only by virtue oftheir ability to be the causes of their own actions: "Had not this powerbeen implanted in us, we should have been passive instruments, notmoral agents."85 Indeed, unless self-determination "be first supposed, totalk of moral agency is a contradiction to common sense, and in itself agross absurdity."86 But yet, the way in which this power operates so thatpersons are "free agents" is itself not understood: "The power in ournature that constitutes us free agents is an amazing contrivance of infinitewisdom. The modus of its existence is too great a deep for us tofathom. "8?

Chauncy was certain, however, that free will was critical to humanhappiness. Individual choice plays a fundamental role in human happi-ness because God does not "open or enlarge our implanted faculties, orfill them with the good that is suited to them, but with the consequenceof ourselves."88 Chauncy explained further that this principle of activeparticipation in choosing good and experiencing happiness was a "gene-ral principle." According to Chauncy, "the good we are originallyformed for is put very much into our own power, in so much that we aremore or less happy, in consequence of our own conduct. This is one of thegeneral laws, according to which the Deity operates in the communicationof good."89 It was only a step further for Chauncy to make self-improve-ment a general law:

A greater part of mankind do not arrive to that extent, either ofperfection or happiness, their original capacities would have allowedof, and they might have attained to, had they more wisely fallen inwith the tendency of that general law, which makes their perfectionand happiness so much dependent on themselves.90

By carefully cultivating one's implanted powers, one both fulfills one'smoral obligation and advances toward perfection and happiness. Chaun-cy explained that "this method of man's attaining to the perfection hewas made for, affords not only the most natural occasion for the various


exercise of his implanted powers, but constantly presents the most rea-sonable call for this exercise."91 Persons were ultimately capable of "res-embling the Deity in knowledge, holiness, and happiness" by "the rightuse of their implanted powers."92 Indeed, by diligently cultivating one'spotential, it was possible to advance to ever more blissful existence. If"self-improvement" was for Chauncy a "general principle," then "adv-ancement" or "progress" on a cosmic scale was a corollary conceptequally important:

It is in consequence of this progressive capacity, that we supposeand I do think, upon just and solid grounds, that all intelligentmoral beings, in all worlds, are continually going on, while theysuitably employ and improve their original faculties, from onedegree of attainment to another; and hereupon from one degree ofhappiness to another, without end.93

The doctrine of self-improvement did not mix easily with Chauncy'sideas about the authority and leadership of the clergy. Indeed, Chauncyhimself warned that ministers were fallible and that their teachingsshould not be accepted uncritically. "To be sure," wrote Chauncy in1766, ministers "should not deliver their interpretations of scripture as'infallible' instructors, and give them out as oracles not to be disputed, orexamined, or implicitly believed. They should rather own themselvesfallible men, of'like passions with others,' and in danger of mistakes anderrors."94

Ministerial authority bordering on infallibility would, of course, ren-der insignificant the individual's active role in reaching perfection, byundercutting his free will and moral agency. Chauncy therefore affirmedthat "the best qualified ministers are but Men; men of like Passions withyourselves: And of this they too often give Proof by the Errors they runinto, in Principle as well as Practice. They may not therefore be de-pended on, as though you could not be misguided by them."95

Authority ultimately rested in scripture, not in the interpretationsministers put upon it. In spite of the abilities of ministers, their superiorqualifications, their learning, and their discernment, Chauncy stated thatone "must not believe upon their Authority. No, but you must bringwhat they say, with an unprejudiced Mind, to the HOLY BIBLE; closingwith it, or rejecting it, as you find it upon trial to agree or disagree withthat one only Test of all religious Truth. "96

In establishing these grounds for proof of a doctrine, Chauncy differedwith Mayhew. Where Mayhew appealed to reason as the test of truth,Chauncy appealed to scripture. But in spite of this difference, Chauncyhad much in common with Mayhew if the function of such an appeal isconsidered. Mayhew's confidence in the possibility of the cooperation of

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private judgment and ministerial authority under the canopy of reasonwas equaled by Chauncy's certainty that a reciprocal relationship be-tween ministerial authority and the legitimacy of self-improvementwould be evidenced by appeal to scripture. In this sense, Mayhew'sappeal to reason was identical to Chauncy's advice to consider scripturewith an "unprejudiced Mind." Of course Chauncy realized that a passagecould be found in scripture to support almost any doctrine. But hebelieved that an unbiased reading of scripture would vindicate both minis-ter and lay person because scripture validated both personal judgmentand ministerial authority, and scripture was always consistent.97 It isappropriate in this instance, then, to assume that "scripture," like reason,referred to a process. It was in a sense a mnemonic for the dialecticalrelationship between two seemingly opposite elements, rather than apractical solution to a specific problem.

Dialectic, or, as Kenneth Burke writes, "the discovery of truth by thegive and take of converse and redefinition," was something Chauncyunderstood.98 In one of his earliest sermons, published in 1731, he de-clared that the continual movement back and forth between prosperityand adversity actually brought out the best in persons: "It is therefore aWise disposal of Providence, that our present State is variable, that we aresometimes in one condition and sometimes in another; sometimes inAdversity and Prosperity. Such a mixt, inconstant State is best suited tothe present Frame of our Minds."99 Underlying this assertion was anexplanation that clearly evidenced Chauncy's dislike of extremes and hisbelief in the necessity to consider both sides of every matter:

If, on the one hand, we were bless'd with a constant Run of Pros-perity; for a long time together enjoying our Health and Friendsand all the Comforts and good things of Life: ten to one but that itwould be the Means of our being ruined forever. We could not bearsuch an uninterrupted Series of Worldly Happiness; we should be aptto grow proud and insolent. . . . And on the other hand, if wewere frown'd upon in Providence, and kept under poor, difficult,and afflictive Circumstances; and this was to be our condition in-variable; it would sink our Spirits.100

Chauncy's choice of texts upon which to make this point is also in-structive. Preaching on James 4:14, wherein human life is compared to"even a vapour" that passes away, Chauncy declared that this was "a trueand lively representation of the State of Man's Life upon Earth!"101 ForChauncy, a "vapour" suggested life "constantly passing under innumer-able changes," uncertain in its length and "unsettled" in its character:"The Metaphor in the Text, signifies to us, the inconstant, unsettled State ofthe present Life."102 A "vapour," observed Chauncy, "sometimes con-


tinues a longer, and sometimes a shorter Time," and "one while it extendsitself far and wide, anon it dwindles away into nothing."103 It was avariable, unclassifiable phenomenon, and was therefore like life: "And itis in a sort necessary, the present State of Man's Life should be thusvariable."***

Just as the course of a life on earth was for Chauncy an "unsettled"condition, so was human life in any one moment a dialectic betweenbody and soul. Like Mayhew, Chauncy thought in terms of "system."Religion was a system, regeneration was a system, the affections andunderstanding formed a system, and society was perhaps the most com-plex system of all. In his sermon at Mayhew's funeral, Chauncy ex-plained how each person was a "system":

The human system is a most curious piece of divine workmanship.It consists of two essentially different parts, a "body" that is won-derfully put together, and rendered capable, by means of its variouspurposes, and a "soul" that is furnished with powers of a morenoble and excellent nature, such as thinking, reasoning, reflecting,and perceiving both pleasure and pain, with admirable variety, inkind and degree, almost without end. Between these two, thoughquite different from each other, there is "so intimate relation as toconstitute one person, or living agent, and such is their mutualdependence, that the 'mind' perceives for the whole body, cares forall its members, and directs all its motions: And, on the other hand,the 'corporeal organs' convey to the mind the knowledge of exter-nal objects, and are the fit instruments of its active powers." This isour frame, and thus we live in the world. In consequence of thesewonderfully formed "bodies" and "souls" and the close union thereis between them, we become capable of all those employments andenjoyments, whether bodily or mental, secular or religious, where-in consists the benefit of life.105

Like Chauncy, Mayhew believed that both the passions and specula-tive knowledge were fundamental to religion, and that individual judg-ment in religious matters should be balanced with public worship and thespiritual guidance of a minister. "Religious thankfulness" was a matterinvolving the heart, but true religion involved public worship as well:"Though the heart is what is primarily and chiefly regarded, our grati-tude ought, in some cases at least, to be expressed in outward exercises ofpiety; in extolling the name of God and singing his praises; and this in apublic, social manner."106 It was important for Christians to gather to"hear the word": "It is manifestly the duty of all Christians in common tohear the word; particularly, to hear it in the public assembly of the Saints,upon the stated times for such religious exercises."107 Indeed, participa-

RELIGION 43

tion in religious rituals in general was a part of the Christian duty,because

Christian obedience respects the morals of the gospel, and positiveinstitutions of it. A true disciple of Christ esteems himself bound toconform to the instituted worship, and the ritual or ceremonial part ofChrist's religion, as well as that part of it which we distinguishtherefrom by the name of moral.108

Mayhew pointed out that everyone, especially "dumb" persons,needed instruction from the pulpit, from the minister who was a "spiri-tual guide."109 It was the duty of this guide to explain and apply scrip-ture, and Mayhew left aside all modesty in describing the character ofsuch a person: "A man of superior knowledge and integrity may be ofgreat advantage in a Christian society, by helping his brethren and neigh-bors to a right understanding of the scriptures."110

While he was affirming the importance of conformity to church tradi-tions, and emphasizing the key role of the minister as an authoritativeteacher, he was at the same time upholding the "right and duty of privatejudgement." "Our intellectual faculties were given to us to improve,"wrote Mayhew, and that improvement included, perhaps more thananything else, making private judgments in religious matters: "It is theduty of Christians to assert their right of private judgement in religiousmatters."111 Those who would seek to limit the exercise of private judg-ment were "encroachers upon liberty":

All who in any way discourage freedom of inquiry and judgementin religious matters, are, so far as they are guilty of this, en-croachers upon the natural rights of mankind . . . because it is thenatural right and priviledge of every man to make the best use hecan of his faculties.112

Mayhew, of course, sensed an antagonism between private judgmentand ministerial authority, but denied that the two actually need conflict:"A man's being authorized (if you please, a divinely authorized) instruc-tor in religious matters, is no ways inconsistent with the right of privatejudgement in others."113 Indeed, the two actually cooperated. To theobjection that "freedom of inquiry will naturally bring our spiritual guidesinto contempt, and weaken their authority," Mayhew answered: "Tothis I reply that it cannot possibly be of any disadvantage to the sober andrational part of the clergy, but has a tendency to make them moreesteemed."114

Just as congregations ought to seek a medium in their behavior, so alsoought preachers take care to avoid extremes in their profession. A minis-ter had a certain amount of authority in spiritual matters, but discern-


ment of the degree of that authority was a delicate matter. The duty ofthe office demanded that a minister urge upon his congregation a certainview of the Christian life, based on scripture. The minister did not,however, have the authority to command his congregation to accept thatview unquestioningly. The correct ground of authority was for Mayhewa "medium." In Christian Sobriety (1763), Mayhew addressed this prob-lem in considering the meaning of the word "exhortation" in ministerialduties:

The manner of address expressed by the word exhortation, is amedium betwixt commanding and simply desiring a thing: theformer of which supposeth such an authority as no minister of thegospel has, and the latter of which supplies nothing more than whata child might do as well as an apostle.115

Private judgment and ministerial authority supported and strength-ened each other. Ministerial authority is strengthened because privatejudgment will reject nonrational doctrines, and thereby weed out thosewho teach them. Christians should "not blindly follow their spiritualguides in anything."116 "We are," declared Mahyew, "in reason obligedto examine all that they say, and to either receive or reject it, as evidenceof its truth does or does not appear."117 The minister, by the same token,informs persons with "reason and argument" so that their judgments aremore likely to be correct. In this way, the church contributes to theauthority of private judgment.

The key to this reciprocal relationship lies in Mayhew's invocation ofreason as the criterion of truth in such matters. A religious doctrine willbe accepted or rejected by individuals and ministers alike on the basis ofits rationality. Kenneth Burke, who has proposed that we understandlanguage as a dialectical structure, has pointed out that we ought, inparticular, "to consider all rationalism as essentially dialectical."118 "Rat-ionalism" is "stress upon method." "Reason" and "rationality" are termsthat refer to a dialectical process. By way of example, Burke observes:

And so the three great exponents of modern rationalism, Descartes,Spinoza, and Leibniz, offered, respectively, a Discourse on Method,an Ethics presented more geometrico after the analogy of Euclideandemonstration, and "the idea of a universal logic and language"which should be to philosophy what calculus was to physics. Andwhereas these early rationalists said that the world is rational, Hegelwent as much farther in that direction as is possible by saying thatthe world is Reason.119

Mayhew, in addressing one of the most urgent problems of the day,explained that "rationality" was the basis on which ministers and con-

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gregations could agree about religious doctrines. The meaning conveyedby such an appeal to rationality, however, was this: Church authorityand private judgment were dialectically related, each conditioning andsupporting the other. "Rational" identified the relationship between twoelements, the method but not the ends of the action. An appeal to "rat-ionality" is in this instance a way of pointing to the dialectic betweenprivate judgment and ministerial authority.

In explaining other matters of religious doctrine Chauncy and May-hew also relied upon the principle of dialectic, or balance. This principleappears clearly in Mayhew's discussion of the relationship between faithand works.

Using the terms "saved by grace" and "obedience to the gospel" toidentify faith and works, respectively, Mayhew argued that no antago-nism whatsoever existed between these principles. In fact, there was noreason why both understandings of the way to salvation might not betrue: "For if there be no real repugnancy between these principles, theymay both be equally true, nor can the falsehood of one be inferred fromthe truth of the other."120

Mayhew set out to show how grace and works cooperated in a per-son's salvation. Unwilling to make justification contingent upon humanmerit, but equally unwilling to omit obedience to the gospel from theformula for salvation, Mayhew stressed that both obedience and God'sgrace were necessary: "My business is to show that there is no inconsis-tency betwixt these doctrines, that tho' we are saved by grace, yet we aresaved in the way of obedience."121

As Conrad Wright has pointed out, Mayhew retained the traditionalCalvinist expression that justification is by faith, so that "in words, atleast, the Arminians were loyal to the principles of the Reformation."122

But Mayhew widened the meaning of "justification by faith" to includeacts of repentance and obedience that an individual performed as faithgrew. According to Mayhew, the "doctrine of the gospel undoubtedlyis, that we are justified by faith; but it is a great mistake to infer fromhence, that we are accepted to the divine favour, and entitled to eternallife, without unfeigned repentance, and new obedience."123 Such an un-derstanding qualified Mayhew for inclusion in that group of ministerswho, as Wright notes, "broke down the sharp contrast which the Calvi-nists had long made and which the Hopkinsians stressed particularly,between works, which are abominable, and faith, which is gracious."124

Mayhew did more than simply break down the contrast between graceand obedience: He brought them together in a mutually dependent rela-tionship so that, as he put it, "the necessity of the former arises only fromthe necessity of the latter."125

Indeed, Mayhew realized that he could not retain the traditional vo-


cabulary of "faith and works" in discussing this matter and expect toclearly transmit to his congregation his intent. He therefore introducedseveral expressions into his explanation that softened the contrast be-tween faith and works. While always insisting on the necessity for faith,Mayhew substituted the expression "to become the object of God's love"for the works side of the equation. To become the objects of God's love,we must, said Mayhew, "forsake our sins and obey the gospel."126 May-hew then reconnected justification by faith with the new language forworks: "Whatsoever is necessary, in order to our being at peace withGod, and becoming the objects of his peculiar love and complacency, isnecessary in order to our justification."127 The new, subtler terminologyallowed more easily for an appreciation of the bond between faith andworks. In a statement that concisely reflects the fundamental principle ofhis thought as a whole, Mayhew explicitly restated it:

The ideas are coincident and mutually imply each other; so thatwhatever is justified, is at peace with God, and the object of hiscomplacency; and whosoever is thus at peace with God is justifiedof him. Now these ideas (or these things) being thus coincident,thus inseparable, and thus mutually inferring and implying eachother, it is a contradiction to suppose that any-thing should berequisite in order to one, which is not equally requisite in order tothe other.128

Having redefined works to demonstrate the symbiosis between worksand faith, Mayhew then argued that faith should be likewise understoodin a more "comprehensive" sense as "uprightness of heart." To have"uprightness of heart" did not mean that one was suddenly perfected,forever justified. It meant, rather, freedom from habitual sinning. In thisway Mayhew legislated out the understanding that faith was the final,ultimate means of justification. According to Mayhew, one shouldunderstand

Faith, in that comprehensive way in which the word is often usedin scripture; i.e., as including uprightness of heart towards God,which every man is either possessed of, or not. So that every maneither wholly keeps, or wholly breaks the covenant of grace. Thisuprightness, or sincerity towards God, is opposed to perfection onthe one hand, and both to refined hypocrisy, and presumptuous on theother. It is the medium betwixt them. No sincere Christian is per-fect; no one is an habitual transgressor at any one point.129

Similarly, in the matter of the relation of faith to works, Chauncysought to invalidate the common distinction. Chauncy began by draw-

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ing a clear line between salvation by faith ("gospel") and salvation by themerits of one's endeavors ("law"). He wrote: "The obtainment of life bylaw, and the obtainment of it by grace, are absolutely incompatible witheach other."130 Chauncy then began to shift his ground to frame anargument exactly opposed to this. If scripture says that salvation is to behad by obedience to the law, but also says that it may be had by faith,that is clearly a contradiction, because "two opposite and inconsistentdispensations would be in force at the same time."131 Such a conflictclearly could not be the intent of scripture:

The plain truth is, sinners for whom a Savior has been provided,and a method contrived and revealed conformably to which theyare within the possibility of obtaining life, can't be supposed to beunder a dispensation of meer law, or in such circumstances as "theymust die if they sin," and can't live but by "their perfect righteous-ness" in obedience to the law. This would be to suppose it bothpossible, and impossible, for them to be saved. It would be to placethem under dispensations quite opposite to, yea, absolutely subver-sive of each other.132

The way to make sense of this, according to Chauncy, was to under-stand that the intent of scripture is not always clearly expressed in thelanguage of scripture: "It is an undisputed maxim, that in explaining thescripture, regard is always to be had to the MEANING of words, and nottheir meer sound."133 If one looks beyond the simple vocabulary ofjustification, it will be obvious that faith and works are not in conflict atall, but that each supports the other: "The plain truth is, 'law' and 'gos-pel' mutually illustrate each other."134

To prove this point Chauncy considered the New Testament writingsof Paul and James on justification. Noting that Paul seemed to emphasizefaith and James to emphasize works, Chauncy observed that "this seem-ing contradiction has strangely puzzled expositors."135 But an expositorneed only look beyond words to the ideas that they truly express torealize that there is not "any contradiction between them here, unless weattend only to the sound of their words, and not the ideas conveyed bythem."136 Displaying his faith in the wholeness of creation, Chauncydeclared that "it does not appear to me to require any great degree ofattention, to perceive that these apostles were perfectly of the same mind,and spoke precisely the same thing, however it may look at the firstglance."137

Chauncy argued that by emphasizing human endeavor, James wasmerely explaining that faith must not be a "dead faith," but must bringwith it good works. The starting point for any teaching on justificationwas, for James, faith. The language about works in James was, argued


Chauncy, only a further description of the nature of that faith, as one thatengendered good works. "This explanation of the apostle James," of-fered Chauncy, "makes out a connection, and a consistency, in his wholediscourse, upon this head of faith and justification."138 For Chauncythere was no question that scripture was consistent. It was only a matterof discerning the "connection" that was not clear from the "words." Thedoctrine of justification according to James was identical to that set forthby Paul:

Far from contradicting what he [Paul] says, he really means thesame thing; Nor can his words be understood, so as to oppose theapostle Paul, unless they are interpreted in a sense that will destroythe coherency of his discourse and make him a loose, weak, andunconnected writer; which would be far from reflecting honor onhim.139

For Chauncy, it was another case of seemingly opposite elementsbeing proven to be utterly consistent: "There is no contradiction, not theleast inconsistency, between the apostles, Paul and James, wherein theymay seem to oppose each other, with respect to the affair ofjustification."140

Having made a connection between faith and works in his discussionof Paul and James, Chauncy returned to his more general treatment ofthe matter and concluded: "Instead of denying faith to be a work, I avowit to be one."141 To downplay the polarity of meaning which, tradi-tionally, the words "faith" and "works" implied, Chauncy offered a newterm, "duty," which expressed the close relationship between the two.Faith was a duty, and was therefore a work as well:

Whenever we believe, if therein we have our eye to God (as wemust have, or our faith will be of no value) we pay religious honorto him, by doing a duty he has required of us; by thus doing a duty,we do that which is a work, and may, with as much propriety, beso called, as any other act of obedience that we perform.142

Faith and works were never exactly the same for Chauncy. Thougheach could be called a duty and for that reason was very much like theother, an element of tension nevertheless remained in their relationship.They did not connote exactly the same idea, but they "mutually illus-trated each other," each functioning to help disclose the meaning of theother.

Twenty-five years before this statement on faith and works, Chauncyhad reasoned to the same conclusion by different means. In The NewCreature (1741), Chauncy concerned himself with the effect of graceon the individual, and the difficulty he encountered in explaining this

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phenomenon centered on the question of the immediacy of the results ofthe bestowal of grace. It is illustrative of Chauncy's way of thinkingabout such matters in 1741, as well as in the decades that followed, thathe chose a "metaphorical" text to explain the effects of grace: "In thetext, 'tis spoken of under the metaphor of a new creature."143

The first part of the sermon Chauncy devoted to a lengthy descriptionof the extent of change wrought in an individual by grace. He empha-sized repeatedly that the change was complete. He who receives gracehas "a great change wrought in him; And this so great that he is a quitedifferent sort of man; so unlike to what he was, that he is not unfitly stil'da new creature."144 Chauncy wrote that this change "'tis indeed a universalchange. Their whole inner man is altered. . . . There is a change in theiraffections. And 'tis an entire one."145 There is "a thorow change affectedin the purposes of their heart."146 Chauncy emphasized that the wholeperson was transformed:

Such a change now as this, so great and universal, extending to thewhole inner man, is effected in men when they are made trueChristians: And is it any wonder, on this account, they are spokenof, in the text, as new creatures. . . . And the change in their lives isas great as the change in their hearts. Their manner of behaviour isso unlike what it was, so new and different, that they don't appearthe same persons, and one would scarce take them to be thesame. 147

Chauncy stressed that these transformed persons "will not now, uponany terms, commit those follies they were once free to indulge them-selves in," and he added that it was a change "not only from sin, but toholiness. Those who are created anew not only amend their ways and theirdoings; but obey the voice of the LORD. They not only deny ungodlinessand worldly lusts; but live soberly, righteously and godly in the world. "148

Most important, this change was not a change of degree, from one levelto one slightly higher, but a total, qualitative change:

It does not mean a meer change in the outward behaviour; muchless a change from these or those particular sins, arising only from achange in age or condition in life; it does not hereby mean going overfrom one opinion to another. . . . I say, the scripture, by the newcreature does not mean such things as these. It hereby means thatglorious change whereby men are turned from darkness to light149

In the second part of the sermon, having explained that the change inthe "new creature" was complete, from sinfulness to godliness and light,Chauncy began to argue instead for a much more moderate understand-ing of the effects of grace. He suggested that "Grace imitateth nature, in


beginning usually, with small degrees, and growing up to maturity byleisurely proceeding."150 Chauncy explicitly warned that one must not"over-value" one's "first grace and knowledge."151 The new creature,changed by grace from darkness to light, was now spoken of with con-siderably less enthusiasm: "Look about you, and observe, whether thosethat are men of knowledge, did obtain it by infusion in a moment? Orwhether they did not obtain it by diligent study, by slow degrees?"152

Having accentuated in the first part of the sermon the extent of change inthe new creature, he now downgraded it: "And Think not the measure ofyour first endowments to be greater than it is; but remember that you areyet in your infancy, and must expect growth and ripeness as a consequenceof time and diligence."153

Certainly, Chauncy's purpose here was to distinguish his positionfrom that of the revival preachers, most of whom considered conversionthe ultimate Christian experience. In 1741 the revival was peaking, andthe excesses Chauncy described in Seasonable Thoughts (1743), and es-pecially the accusations against "unconverted" ministers, were becomingapparent. Chauncy found himself in the position of having to acknowl-edge the transforming effects of grace while at the same time denyingthat the final measurement of a Christian life was conversion. Though heaccepted conversion as an "entire, universal" change in a person, he stillinsisted that a Christian advanced only "by degrees" toward perfection.For persons accustomed to the cleaner "either/or" conversion-centeredtheology of the revival, such a position was not easy to understand.Chauncy's choice of a text upon which to preach his understanding of theregenerate life was appropriate to his task. The metaphor of "new crea-ture" was an image that connected the newness that came with conver-sion to the creatureliness of the human condition which yet remained,and which necessitated further striving.

In The Out-pouring of the Holy Ghost (1742) Chauncy argued again forthe importance of improvement after conversion. In the year since he hadpreached on the "new creature" he had perhaps realized that even this"metaphor" did not fully express his understanding of the regenerate life.He thus reemphasized that even after the infusion of grace, "men re-mained men," conditioned as always by the circumstances of their exis-tence and the nature of the powers with which they were endowed.

This much we know in general, that in new making men, the DivineSPIRIT acts in, and upon them, in a way suited to their nature asMen, in a way that agrees with their character as moral agents. He somanages the matter, as that they are changed into new men, in amanner perfectly harmonizing with their several powers.154

Chauncy was certain that the infusion of divine grace, though itbrought about a new person, did not negate the necessity of striving

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toward moral perfection. Exactly how this process worked, how grace"made men new" but yet harmonized perfectly with their nature aspersons so as not to undermine the necessity for their conscious judg-ments as "moral agents," could not be known. Persons were both com-pletely changed and yet unchanged. Somehow it happened, but thedetails of this process were a mystery:

But to say precisely how the HOLY GHOST enlightens the mind, andthen captivates the will, and then preserves the affections and passionsin due harmony, and conducts the life in the way of holiness; thesethings, I say, are difficulties in the dispensation of grace: And asthey are such, the less we puzzle ourselves or others about them,the better.155

It should be pointed out that Mayhew was, like Chauncy, aware of therange and purposes of rhetorical devices in argument, and especially oftheir uses in scripture. He wrote about "allegory" and "double meaning"in the psalms.156 Confronted with a scriptural passage that seemed "con-tradictory," he claimed that it "must not be understood literally, butfiguratively."157 In his sermon on Luke 13:24 ("Strive to enter in at thestrait gate") he set out to show "to what our Saviour alludes in the text,and why he uses this metaphor."158 Unable to give more than a verygeneral explanation of the passage, Mayhew emphasized the role of met-aphors in scripture to suggest its meaning, pointing out that "Our Sav-iour, who certainly knew everything relating to this affair, enjoins us to'strive.' . . . And there are divers metaphors used in scripture, relative tothis matter, which naturally suggest the same thing to us: Particularlythose of'wrestling,' 'running,' and 'fighting.'"159

For Mayhew, life was sometimes more than metaphor and dialectic: Itwas drama.160 In one argument he refers to "the great drama of theworld," and in another to "this great theatre of the universe."161 Dramawas, however, always balanced by "systematic" order, and Mayhew invarious writings refers in particular to the "system of religion."162 In aworld of differences, Mayhew sensed coherence.

It should not be supposed, however, that Mayhew sought only tomediate contrary ideas into tame compromise (though occasionally thismay have happened). Mayhew occasionally argues that there is "no me-dium" in a particular problem or situation. His purpose in so doing is tomake clear that no matter how close two ideas may come to each otherthey will retain their own separate identities and properties.163 Mayhew'sdiscussion of good and evil more clearly illustrates this symbioticalcharacter of his thought.

In Seven Sermons, Mayhew organized his thought into three parts, andexplained these in the beginning of the volume as follows:


I. That there is a natural difference between truth and falsehood,right and wrong.

II. That men are naturally endowed with faculties proper to thediscerning of those differences.

III. and lastly, That men are under the obligation to exert thesefaculties; and to judge for themselves in matters of a religiousconcern.164

At the foundation of his argument, then, was the proposition thatright and wrong, good and evil, were utterly distinct. Moreover, May-hew insisted that this distinction was a crucial foreword to any discussionof morality. Good and evil were as different as black and white, and thisdifference formed the only basis upon which any consideration of rightand wrong in human action could be made.

But in spite of the fact that all persons were endowed with faculties todetect this difference, they do not always appear to do so. May hewtherefore asked why, if right and wrong were so clearly opposed to oneanother, do people sometimes choose to do wrong. He replied that theanswer lay in considering "the difficulty there is, in some cases, to deter-mine the boundaries of right and wrong."165 He pointed to "the varietyof opinions that have prevailed in the world concerning questions ofright, especially in political affairs; and the different, yea, contrary laws,enacted by wise men in different ages, and countries, and all equallyunder the notion of their being right and equitable."166 In order to dem-onstrate the complexity of the issue, Mayhew borrowed a metaphoricalstatement of the problem from Samuel Clarke, explaining how "ext-remes" sometimes "run one into the other," while all the while remain-ing utterly different from each other.

But (to use the words of a learned writer) as in painting, two verydifferent colours, by diluting each other very slowly and gradually,may, from the highest intenseness, in either extreme, terminate inthe midst insensibly; and so run one into the other, that it shall notbe possible even for a skillful eye to determine exactly where oneends and the other begins and yet the colours differ as much as canbe, not in degree only, but intirely in kind, as red and blue, or whiteand black, so though perhaps it may be difficult in some nice andperplext cases (which yet are very far from occurring frequently) todefine exactly the bounds of right and wrong, just and unjust, andthere may be some latitude in the judgement of different Men, andthe laws of divers nations; yet right and wrong are neverthelesstotally and essentially different; even altogether as much as whiteand black, light and darkness.167

On this basis, Mayhew concluded that certain actual questions of mor-als are "so intricate and complicated, that it is difficult, or even imposs-

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ible, to determine them."168 But for humankind, whose cosmic domainwas "the middle of things," this should not be surprising; and it shouldlikewise be understood that just as good and evil, right and wrong, areoften not clearly separated in the human mind, so too is their appearanceon a larger scale often a kind of "mixture." In a thanksgiving sermon forthe military victories in Canada in 1759, Mayhew observed: "But alas!there is never any great good in this present evil world without somemixture of evil, at least of what seems to us to be so."169

Chauncy agreed with Mayhew that in some instances good and evilcannot be clearly discerned by the human mind, but Chauncy added thatthese cases in which good and evil seemed to be mixed might be supportfor the view that good and evil are only "appearances" of opposition in auniverse that is in fact utterly coherent. Chauncy's understanding of thematter thus differed from his friend's in that where Mayhew emphasizedthe difference between good and evil and accepted the fact of their "mix-ture" in appearance, Chauncy chose to stress that good and evil oftenappeared to be distinct but were in fact not. For example, in The Benev-olence of the Deity Chauncy denied that good and evil were "two indepen-dent opposite principles in the universe; the one good, from whom isderived everything that is good; the other evil, from whom is derivedeverything that is evil, whether natural or moral." Chauncy argued thatbelief in opposite principles of good and evil "is an opinion so far frombeing founded on solid proof, that it cannot be supported by solidargument."170

The appearance of evil in the cosmos was only a problem of humaninability to see all of the connections: "Shall it then be counted an objec-tion of any weight against the goodness of God's works that we are notable, in every instance, to see wherein they are connected with good?"171

Chauncy argued that the appearance of evil only "surpasses our abilityparticularly to trace the ways wherein it may tend to good.1*172 God'sworks were perfectly connected, so that "the defect lies, not in the tend-ency of God's works, but in our incapacity to connect them together,and view them in reference they have to each other."173 Above all,Chauncy believed that there was a coherence and consistency in theuniverse, and a "meer" appearance of evil ought to be questioned:

What I mean is, that no appearance in nature, capable of beingalleged, ought to be looked upon as conclusively arguing an incon-sistency with goodness MEERLY or ONLY because we may not be ableparticularly and fully to point out their consistency with each other.I say meerly or only for this reason, because there is an evidentdifference between our not particularly discerning wherein the con-sistency of two things lies, and clearly perceiving that there is a realinconsistency between them.174


Though Chauncy and Mayhew sought to explain how the principle ofbalance operated in a coherent universe - how faith and works, reasonand the affections, ministerial authority and private judgment were dia-lectically related pairs - it should not be supposed that they were the onlypersons to describe the necessity for balance. Even some persons associ-ated with the revival organized at least some of their ideas according tothe principle of balance. Though excitement over inwardness and per-sonal spiritual growth was blossoming throughout the colonies, con-gregations still looked to their pastors for guidance in their day-to-daylives. Moralism was not always replaced by individualism. Sometimes itwas tempered and informed by it. Ebenezer Frothingham, who becamein the years following the Great Awakening a leading separatist in NewEngland, spoke for the revival clergy as a whole when he tied the person-al knowledge of God to the law of God: "The Life of Religion consists inthe Knowledge of God, as he reveals himself by his Spirit in his Work,and Conformity to God in the inward Man, which necessarily producesan external conformity to the Holy Laws of God."175

The life of the regenerate individual in society was still a serious mat-ter, and one addressed repeatedly by Edwards, Whitefield, and others.Drawing on the same scriptural passage as had Perkins a century and ahalf earlier, Whitefield made clear his corporate-mindedness:

Society then, we see is absolutely necessary in respect to our per-sonal and bodily wants. If we carry our view farther and considermankind as divided into different cities, countries and nations, thenecessity of it will appear more evident. For how can communitiesbe kept up, or commerce carried on, without society? Certainlynone at all, since providence seems wisely to have assigned a partic-ular product to almost each particular country, on purpose, as itwere, to oblige us to be social, and hath admirably mingled theparts of the whole body of mankind together, "that the eye cannotsay to the hand, I have no need of thee; nor again, the hand to thefoot, I have no need of thee."176

Edwards, in The History of the Work of Redemption, evidenced that hewas by no means concerned solely with the individual spirit. For Ed-wards the kingdom of heaven on earth was to be a markedly socialphenomenon.

Then all the world shall be united in one amiable society. All na-tions, in all parts of the world, on every side of the globe, shall thenbe knit together in sweet harmony. All parts of God's church shallassist and promote the spiritual good of one another. A com-munication shall then be upheld between all parts of the world tothat end; and the art of navigation, which is now applied so much

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to favour men's covetousness and pride, and is used so much bywicked, debauched men, shall then be consecrated to God, andapplied to holy uses.177

In An Humble Attempt to Promote Explicit Agreement and Visible Union ofGod's People (Boston, 1747) Edwards again suggested that a harmoniousChristian society was a much-desired result of religion:

How conducent, how beautiful and of good tendency would it be, formultitudes of Christians in various parts of the world, by explicitagreement, to unite in such prayer as is proposed to us. Union is oneof the most amiable things that pertains to human society; yea, it isone of the most beautiful and happy things on earth, which indeedmakes earth most like heaven.178

Along the same lines, Gilbert Tennent, best known for his inflamma-tory On the Danger of an Unconvert'd Ministry, in which he proposed thatthe authority of an unconverted minister was invalid, declared in 1743that "Love is the Sinew of Society." Five years later Tennent affirmedthat capital punishment was necessary as a defense of social union, lest"all order and government must cease, and the wildest anarchy ensue."Tennent declared: "Union is the Glory of Society, its Safety, and itsStrength! . . . without which it soon crumbles into a Chaos of Ruin,dissipates and expires!"179

Tennent's apparent willingness to defend society for the good of so-ciety per se suggests the problem that most Calvinists in the mid eigh-teenth century had to face. The Awakening had arrived suddenly uponthem, bringing back with it the current of "experimental" religion thathad faded gradually into the background of Puritan theological discourseover the course of the preceding century. Confronted with the phenome-non of sudden, emotional conversion experiences, they struggled toplace "experimental" religion back into Christian life. But the balancethat the early seventeenth-century Puritans had struck between individu-alism and communality had been the result of years of gradual transfor-mation and development. As William Haller pointed out, the systemwhereby the individual and society were brought together in Puritanismhad evolved slowly through several generations of Reformation preach-ing and scholarship. He argued that Puritanism, as a religious and socialphenomenon, was less a "revolution" than a "gradual transformation":

We do not detract from the honor due them when we suggestthat perhaps they were less the authors than the symptoms of adisturbance that at its own pace under the impulsion of more pa-tient men, aided by circumstance, was slowly but surely breakingup the ancient pattern of English life. The force of revolutionary

$6 THE HIDDEN BALANCE

movements most truly shows itself in the gradual transformationof the imaginative ideals, of the habits of thought and expression,of the moral outlook and modes of expression of whole classes ofpeople. Puritanism was such a movement.180

The balance that Puritans believed they had attained between the individ-ual and society came about in stages as they responded to changinghistorical circumstances by refining their theories.

New Englanders did not have the luxury of time to fashion newtheories. Faithful in their commitment to the importance of the socialorder, as Puritans, for the most part, had always been, but forced toreestablish in a drastic way the importance of the individual within thatsocial order, New England pastors were confounded. They affirmed theimportance of both the individual and society, but they had great diffi-culty connecting the two in a way that would not give priority to either.Perhaps the most effective attempts were those that understood moral"external" behavior as proceeding from regenerate "internal" status. Butmost often, any commentary beyond that evolved rapidly into a near-mystical explanation of how regenerate Christians "naturally" performmorally in specific social situations. Edwards's Nature of True Virtueexemplifies this pattern of thought. In this highly sophisticated and oftenconfusing work, Edwards proposed that there was a moral order, basedon "Beauty," as evident in the universe as there were physical "laws ofnature." Because of the "consent of things to other things," the personwho had experimental knowledge of God's glory, and thus was in inti-mate contact with "Beauty," was inclined to consent to "Beauty" in therest of his experience, be it personal or social.181

Aside from the matter of its adequacy, such a theory was no doubtcommunicated only with considerable effort. Not surprisingly, preach-ers thus generally chose not to tackle the problem directly, but usedmetaphorical expressions to describe the role of the regenerate individualin society. Typical is Whitefield's reliance on the phrase "loose from theworld" to describe the manner in which individual pursuit of salvationhad to be balanced with social life.

No, the religion of Jesus is a social religion. But though JesusChrist does not call us to go out of this world, shut up our shops,and leave our children to be provided for by miracles; yet this mustbe said to the honour of Christianity, if we are really converted, weshall be loose from the world.182

In general, social theories that New Lights proposed in the severaldecades after the Awakening might themselves be considered "loose" asfar as concerned their ability to make sense of colonial social relations.This is not to say that there was no social theory, but rather that it was by

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necessity expressed through metaphor and association of ideas, ratherthan in a straightforward and systematic way. Richard L. Bushman,calling the 1750s and 1760s "a period of experimentation in social theo-ry," comments that

the theories born in this era were projections of personal methodsfor dealing with life and without strict correspondence to partylines. . . . Important centers of feeling and thought can be identi-fied, but few pronouncements on social theory were pure expres-sions of a single conception.183

Realization of the profound social disruptions that the Awakeningbrought generated a new respect for the complexity and the fragility ofthe social order, and most persons felt qualified to suggest only in thevaguest terms how it functioned. Most New Lights would have agreedwith Samuel Davies when he wrote in 1761: "Civil society is so compli-cated a system, and includes so many remote, as well as intimate connec-tions, References, and Dependencies, that the least Irregularity or Defect,in the minutest Spring, may disorder and weaken the wholemachine."184

Though many of the ideas of Chauncy and Mayhew (and other leadingliberals) were the product of the gradual shift toward rationality withinNew England Puritanism, this shift was still in its early stages at the timeof the Great Awakening in the 1740s. Accordingly, in responding to thereligious and social crises that came with the Awakening, Chauncy andMayhew were forced to articulate a theological standpoint that was notas precise as some persons may have wished. It may be that liberalthinking as a whole missed a step or two in its evolution toward anarticulate, systematic statement of the relationship between the personaland social components of human life. Alan Heimert has criticized liberalsrepeatedly for their "evasiveness" and imprecision, complaining that"curiously enough, American rationalism seems not to have been givento logical or semantic precision."185 But, like the revivalists, liberals wereforced to confront issues that appeared suddenly in the course of theAwakening. In responding to those issues, neither evangelicals nor ra-tionalists had the time to bring together the loose ends of their theories insuch a way as to give "logical or semantic precision" to their statements.In the thinking of both Calvinists and liberals in mid-century America,there is thus a tension between the individual and society. Individualism,be it rooted in rationalism or experimental piety, or both, collided withthe necessity for social order. Liberals, though accused of evasiveness andimprecision, managed to construct a theory of social order that tookseriously both the individual and the collective. The tension remained,but the theory was coherent.

For Chauncy and Mayhew, a "medium" or a "middle way" was the


correct path between two "extremes." This middle way correspondedwith a sense of the dialectical, even symbiotic, workings of the universeand, as Mayhew wrote, included "a firm belief of God's being and per-fections, his moral government and universal providence, agreeably tothe light of nature, or natural reason, and to the express doctrine of holyscripture; for these do not contradict, but mutually confirm and illustrateeach other."186

Religion in mid-eighteenth-century America was in a state of flux.Reason, the affections, morality, authority, the individual, the collective:All of these terms describe phenomena that crashed together in the after-math of the Awakening. Indeed, religion in the American colonies, andespecially in New England, in the period between the Great Awakeningand the Revolution, is best characterized as being in a state of in-be-tweenness. Like the porch that is both inside and outside the house, thereligious predicament of Americans was one of suspension between verydifferent sets of ideas.

This "bifarious nature" of American life in the mid eighteenth centurywas by no means limited to religion. Political thought, as well, was in astate of flux, straining under the pressure of two seemingly contradictorytheories. Like religion, colonial thinking about government was in gen-eral characterized by an uncertainty about the relation of the individual tothe collective. Problems in political thought thus dovetailed with those inreligion, and compounded the quality of in-betweenness in the life ofAmericans.

Chapter 3

Government: liberty balanced withdeference

In religion, the mid-eighteenth-century New England mind focused onpersonal religious experience/private judgment as related to morality/church leadership. In colonial political thought, the relation of liberty toauthority was seen as the critical issue. The Independent Reflector ad-dressed the matter thus in 1753:

For by admitting the Rationality of Man, you necessarily supposehim a free Agent. And as no political Institutions can deprive himof his Reason, they cannot by any Means destroy his native Priv-ilege of acting freely. It may perhaps be asked, how Mankind inthis View, can possibly be bound by the Laws of Society?1

Indeed, it might be asked how Americans, overwhelmed by a mass ofunsorted political ideas, might even have begun to answer the questionposed by the Reflector. Pulled one way in their thinking by a deepeningmistrust of power, and pulled another way by their longstanding habit ofdeference to the "better Sort," colonists generally shifted uneasily fromone position to the other.

Typical is the case of the Independent Reflector. The essay for the weekof January 25, 1753, declared: "It is impossible for a Man devoid ofMerit, to be elevated to an eminent Post; or, for superior Worth tolanguish in Obscurity and Indigence." Commenting in particular onBritish politics, the Reflector continued:

It affects me with singular Pleasure, to reflect, by Way of Illation,that all our Officers are Men of Skill and Capacity, and that none ofthem have been guilty of this political Simony, of purchasing theirPosts; because that would suppose our Superiors to have actedcontrary to Law; which would be the height of Absurdity, and amost ill-mannerly Reflection.2

59


But such trust in one's social "superiors" was undermined by the essayof September 20, 1753, entitled "The Vanity of Birth and Titles; with theAbsurdity of Claiming Respect without Merit." Here, the Reflector main-tained that "Honours are seldom dispensed according to Merit. Some-times the Caprice of a Prince raises a Man to the highest Offices in theState." Noting that "the Way of Eminence is not always open to personalWorth," the Reflector outright challenged the status of "Birth" and"Station": "Again, were Men only respected in proportion to the realDignity of their Characters, greater would be the number of those whohad Merit. But when every worthless Wretch is reverenc'd on account ofhis Birth or Station, what Wonder is it, to find real Desert so great aRarity."3

As Richard L. Bushman has argued, the Great Awakening and thesocial dislocations associated with it contributed significantly to the reap-praisal of traditional forms of authority in the colonies.4 But even beforethe Awakening, Americans had gradually been reorienting themselvestoward the idea of civil authority, and a part of that was owing to theirreadings of English Whig political writers. The message of these writers,and the premise fundamental to all Whig political thought, was that"power encroaches." An example of such writing is Cato's Letters, acollection of letters from the pens of John Trenchard and Thomas Gor-don.5 Published in The London Journal between 1720 and 1723, "Cato"continually warned of the aggressive and greedy tendencies in the natureof power. A letter entitled "Cautions against the Natural Encroachmentsof Power" stated that "it is natural for Power to be striving to enlargeitself, and to be encroaching on those who have none." Cato warned that"human Society had often no enemies so great as their own Magistrates;who, where ever they were trusted with too much power, always abusedit." Another letter, affirming that "it is the Nature of Power to be everencroaching," gave the following bleak history lesson: "We know, byInfinite Examples and Experience, that Men possessed of Power, ratherthan part with it, will do anything, even the worst and the blackest, tokeep it."6

In American hands, this notion of power was expressed in even moregraphic terms. In 1735, in his defense of Peter Zenger against the chargeof libel, Andrew Hamilton addressed the New York court as follows:

Power may be justly compared to a great river, while kept withinits bounds, is both beautiful and useful; but when it overflows itsbanks, it is then too impetuous to be stemmed, it bears down allbefore it and brings destruction and desolation wherever it comes.If then this is the nature of power, let us at least do our duty, andlike wise men (who value freedom) use our utmost care to support

GOVERNMENT 61

liberty, the only bulwark against lawless power, which in all ageshas sacrificed to its wild lust and boundless ambition the blood ofthe best men that ever lived.7

As Caroline Robbins, J. G. A. Pocock, Bernard Bailyn, and othershave shown, a critical attitude toward power was woven throughoutinto Whig designs for government.8 Popular works such as Cato's Letterspointed out the dangers of the abuses of power, both theoretical andactual, and functioned as gadflies, of sorts, in alerting Britons on bothsides of the Atlantic to the corrupted state of the English government.But a large body of Whig writings was devoted to constructive commen-tary - "the science of politics," as some were starting to call it - thatanalyzed English society and politics and proposed the means wherebythe rights guaranteed in the constitution would be protected from atyrant's absolutist wishes. These theories illustrate the extent to whichmistrust of power permeated Whig thought, and fill out the nuances ofthe political vision that colonists were absorbing.

In 1766 Jonathan Mayhew wrote that he had been "initiated, in youth,into the doctrines of civil liberty, as they were taught by such men . . . asSidney and Milton, Locke and Hoadly."9 To these may be added RobertMolesworth, Henry St. John Viscount Bolingbroke, Henry Neville,James Harrington, and Trenchard and Gordon as the primary Whiginfluences on colonial political thinking.10 Influenced by these writers,Mayhew became outspoken in his condemnation of unbridled power andin his criticism of the machinery of English government. Mayhew point-ed out that power, by its encroaching nature, tended to an extremesituation in which individual rights and liberties were destroyed. In asermon preached just after the repeal of the Stamp Act, Mayhew stated:

Power is of a grasping, encroaching nature, in all beings, except inHim, to whom it emphatically "belongeth"; . . . Power aims atextending itself, and operating according to mere will, where-everit meets with no ballance, check, controul, or opposition of anykind. For which reason it will always be necessary, as was saidbefore, for those who would preserve and perpetuate their liberties,to guard them with a wakeful attention; and in all righteous, just,and prudent ways, to oppose the first encroachments on them.11

As Bernard Bailyn has demonstrated, fear of an English program toestablish an American bishopric was closely related to the fear of politicaltyranny.12 Many colonists, including Mayhew, vowed resistance to "anyillegal encroachments or usurpations, whether as to things spiritual ortemporal."13 In Popish Idolatry, Mayhew emphasized in particular theneed to guard against religious "slavery" with


a defense of our laws, liberties, and civil rights as men, in opposi-tion to the proud claims and encroachments of ecclesiastical per-sons, who under the pretext of religion and saving men's souls,would engross all power and property to themselves, and reduce usto the most abject slavery.14

Because power encroached, it was necessary that persons be vigilant indefending their rights. In The Snare Broken Mayhew declared: "History,one may presume to say, affords no example of any nation, country, orpeople long free, who did not take some care of themselves: and endeav-our to guard and secure their own liberties."15 In his Discourse on Un-limited Submission Mayhew had already supplied the historical example,pointing out that resistance to Charles I was "a most righteous andglorious stand, made in defence of the natural and legal rights of thepeople, against the unnatural and illegal encroachments of arbitrarypower."16 In 1766, he was applying the lesson to the colonies: "To go onthen, the colonies are better than ever apprized of their own weight andconsequence, when united in a legal opposition to any unconstitutional,hard and grievous treatment."17

The outline of this argument Mayhew had set forth a year earlier, inthe summer of 1765. Mayhew first distinguished among six kinds ofliberty. The first five he listed as follows:

1. Philosophical liberty2. Gracious liberty, given in regeneration3. What is commonly called religious liberty, or that natural right

which every man has to worship God as he pleases, provided hisprinciples and practices are not prejudicial to others

4. liberty, or freedom from the ceremonial law, which law is con-sidered in Scripture as a yoke and burthen to those who wereunder it.

5. that liberty which every man has, in what is commonly called astate of nature, or antecedent to the consideration of his being amember of civil society; consisting in a right to act as he pleases,in opposition to being bound by any human laws; always pro-vided, that he violates no laws of God, nature, or right reason,which no man is at liberty to do.18

Civil liberty, the sixth kind, Mayhew explained in greater detail. May-hew claimed that natural liberty was antagonistic to civil liberty: "Theywho continue in that, which is usually termed a state of nature, can withno propriety be said to enjoy civil liberty."19 The reason for this is thatwithout the "restraint of laws," the exercise of natural liberty leads toextremes of self-interest, "one extreme leading to another," down to the

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final result of "slavery itself," a condition "seemingly the most oppositethereto."20 Mayhew claimed that "people do not enjoy civil liberty,where each individual does what is right in his own eyes, without anyregard to others. This is a state of anarchy and confusion."21

It was thus necessary that persons give up some of their natural rights,so that a balance could be established between "the liberty which everyman has" and civil liberty: "Men, for the sake of the common good, andmutual security, give up part of their natural liberty."22 This statement isextremely important for understanding Mayhew's political vision. May-hew despised Hobbes and Filmer as "betrayers of the rights and libertiesof their country," and explicitly acknowledged his debt to Locke, so it isreasonable to assume that he drew on Locke for his ideas about libertyand especially the social contract.23 The theory of social contract, asproposed by Locke, rested on the premise that persons forgo their natu-ral rights so that the good of society as a whole may be legislated. Lockeadded, however, that the purpose of this was, in fact, to ensure that eachperson's own property was safeguarded and preserved:

But though men when they enter in society give up the equality,liberty and executive power they had in the state of Nature into thehands of society, to be so far disposed of by the legislative as thegood of society shall require, yet it being only with an intention inevery one to better preserve himself, his liberty and property . . ,24

Locke thus left the door open for an understanding of government inwhich self-interest could still play a part. Mayhew's statement suggestsjust such an understanding. Mayhew was careful to add "and mutualsecurity" to the first part of the statement, thereby implying that such areason for giving up one's natural liberty was at least a shade differentfrom the other reason, "for the sake of the common good." In the secondpart of the statement, Mayhew wrote that it was only necessary that onegive up "part" of one's natural liberty, a proposition significantly differ-ent from Locke's idea of political society as one in which "every one ofthe members hath quitted the natural power."25 For Locke, a person didnot give up just a "part" of his natural liberty, but all of it. Mayhew's useof "part" and his inclusion of the phrase "and mutual security" indicatethat he left a place for individual interest in his theory of government.Indeed, in The Snare Broken this side of the theory was boldly stated:"Self-preservation being a great and primary law of nature, and to beconsidered as antecedent to all civil laws and institutions, which aresubordinate and subservient to the other."26

Though Charles Chauncy was not as outspoken as his friend at WestChurch, he was certainly a forward-looking thinker. Alice Baldwin re-ferred to Chauncy as "the friend of Samuel and John Adams and of other


Revolutionary leaders, one of the most ardent and influential in theAmerican cause,"27 and Martha L. Counts considers Chauncy's 1747election sermon on the ruler as the protector of civil rights to be theclearest statement of such a theme in eighteenth-century Mas-sachusetts.28 Indeed, Civil Magistrates Must Be Just (1747) was criticized soheavily by the General Court that there was some question over whetherits publication would be permitted.29

Chauncy's sermon began - as did many seventeenth- and eighteenth-century political writings - with a discussion of anarchy in the "state ofnature." Chauncy argued that laws were necessary to control inevitableconflicts of interest: "Was there no civil rule among men, but that everyone might do which was right in his own eyes, without restraint fromhuman laws, there would not be safety anywhere on the earth."30 Thegrave danger to individuals and to their property in a state of nature wasunderscored by Chauncy's claim that such conflicts originated in sin:"Government is rendered a matter of necessity by the introduction of sininto the world."31 Because of sin, "mutual defence" was necessary, andthis involved giving up a portion of one's liberties and then centralizingpower as much as was necessary to protect the liberties that remained:

The present circumstances of the human race are therefore such, bymeans of sin, that 'tis necessary they should, for their mutual de-fence and safety, combine together in distinct societies, lodging asmuch power in the hands of a few, as may be sufficient to restrainthe irregularities of the rest, and keep them within the bounds of ajust decorunie32

Accordingly, government was for Chauncy more than "a mere humaninstitution. "33 Because it is an aspect of God's order for the universe,"order and rule in society, or, what means the same thing, civil govern-ment," are of divine origin.34 Chauncy was careful to point out,however, that civil government was not to be understood simplistically,as absolute authority founded upon real differences among men. Civilgovernment reflects the principles of balance and wholeness upon whichthe cosmos itself is ordered, that is, "it originates in the reason of things,their mutual relations to and dependencies on each other, as if he [God]uttered his voice from the excellent glory, and in this way, primarily, hedeclares his will respecting a civil subordination among men. "35 "Mutualdependency" was the key to Chauncy's vision of government. Althoughgovernment demanded a degree of subordination to "superiors," it alsoallowed for the exercise of a certain amount of self-interest (e.g. privateownership of property), and it made possible the promotion of a com-mon good. Chauncy wrote that the end of civil government was "thegeneral good of mankind; . . . to guard men's lives; to secure their rights;

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to defend their properties and liberties; to make their way to justice easy;. . . and, in general, to promote public welfare. "36 Government operatedfor "the general welfare and prosperity of the people."37 Rulers were tohave a "regard to the community, to which they are related; whose welfareis so dependent hereon."38 They must "be instrumental in doing goodservice to the public. "39 In short, government could require deference tosuperiors, but it must balance this with respect for the good of society asa whole, and the recognition of individual liberties and property. Only inthis way - through a balance between power and purposes - could theencroachment of power be resisted.

Fear of the encroachment of power and trust in the capability of a "bal-anced" government to care for the common good as well as to allow forindividual interest form the core of what Pocock calls the "Country"vision of English politics. Writers of this school - which includedSidney, Hoadly, Locke, and Bolingbroke, among others - were the chiefinfluences upon the formation of American theories of government inthe eighteenth century. The political ideas of Mayhew and Chauncy, ifthey are to be fully appreciated, must be considered against this back-ground of thought provided by the Country writers. With "all powercorrupts" as its motto, the Country ideology consisted essentially in thedefense of independent property against the power of the court. Pococksummarizes the main points:

Society is made up of court and country; government, of court andParliament; Parliament, of court and country members. The courtis the administration. The country consists of men of independentproperty. . . . The business of Parliament is to preserve the inde-pendence of property, on which is founded all human liberty. . . .The business of administration is to govern, and this is a legitimateactivity; but to govern is to wield power, and power has a naturaltendency to encroach. It is more important to supervise govern-ment than support it.40

Supervision of the government, for James Harrington (1611-77) andfor all Whigs who came after him, meant, at the very least, balancingpower with property. In The Commonwealth ofOceana (1656) Harringtonproposed that there were three kinds of government: rule by the one, thefew, or the many. When these forms of government "rule with a view tothe commonweal," they are, respectively, kingship, aristocracy, and pol-ity. When they "look to the advantage of one section only," they arecalled tyranny, oligarchy, and democracy.41 Harrington was concerned,essentially, with explaining how the form of government was related toproperty ownership in a society. Specifically, he argued that the distribu-


tion of property ownership - whether it be land, money, or goods - wasrelated to the form of government, and that changes in ownership weredirectly related to changes in form of government, whether those in-volved, for example, a change from kingship to tyranny or from king-ship to polity or aristocracy.

In a stable government, wrote Harrington, the distribution of proper-ty ownership correlated with the location of political power. Thus, "ifone man be sole landlord of a territory, or overbalance the people, forexample, three parts in four," that man has the power to dominate and isthe king. If the few, "or a nobility, or a nobility with the clergy belandlords, or overbalance the people to the like proportion," the govern-ment is an aristocracy. And if "the whole people be landlords, or hold theland so divided among them that no man, or number of men, within thefew or the aristocracy overbalance them," such an arrangement is called apolity, or commonwealth.

If a change in the distribution of property was not accompanied by acorresponding adjustment in the form of political rule, instability wouldcome about. In such a case, the old rule must eventually be overthrownby those who own the greatest share of property.42

Finally, stressed Harrington, it was critical that the ruling element holda preponderance of the property for a balance to be maintained. If theking should hold only half the property, and the people the other half,such a distribution was not sufficiently decisive for stable government.As each side attempted to overpower the other, the government wouldbecome "a very shambles."43

As Pocock has shown, Harrington's equation for political stability -that political power must rest with the preponderance of property inorder that a "balance" be sustained - set the terms on which all laterWhig thought would revolve.44 Henry Neville (1620-94) began with theHarringtonian maxim of the relation of property to power, and inter-preted it to explain the specific shortcomings of English government inthe period before the Glorious Revolution. In Plato Redivivus (1681) Ne-ville proposed that troubles England was experiencing were directly re-lated to the decline and disappearance of the large estates. The king andhis court, though possessed of the political power in England, no longerowned a preponderance of the property, and were therefore not indepen-dent. That is, the people no longer depended upon the court as servantsmust depend upon their masters for food and other necessities. Nevillewrote:

I will not trouble myself nor you, to search into the particularcauses of this change, which has been made in the possessions herein England; but it is visible that the fortieth part of the lands which

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were in the beginning in the hands of the Peers and Church, is notthere now; besides that not only all Villanage is long since abol-ished, but the other Tenures are so altered and qualified, that theysignify nothing towards making the Yeomantry depend on theLords. The consequence is, that the natural part of our Governmentwhich is Power, is by means of Property in the hands of the People,whilest the artificial part, or the Parchment, in which the Form ofGovernment is written, remains the same.45

Neville appealed to the "ancient" English constitution under which thecivil rights of Englishmen were affirmed. He suggested that legislationbe enacted that would protect those rights from the encroaching powerof the court and ensure that the interests of the people were properlyrepresented.46

Harrington and Neville provided for their time a sense of how powerand property were related in government, and what the proper form ofgovernment ought to be, given a particular distribution of property. If itis true, as Pocock suggests, that "the central idea of the Harringtonianbalance is that power must not be so distributed that it encroaches on theindependence of property," then it should be clear as well that mistrust ofpower lay at the center of the thinking of Harrington and Neville.47

Neville suggested that measures could be taken to restore the libertiesassociated with the English constitution, but that this would involvevoluntary concessions of power from the court.48 John Milton (1609-78)and Algernon Sidney (1622-83) harbored a considerably deeper mistrustof power than either Harrington or Neville, and were accordingly ex-ceedingly pessimistic about the possibilities of the court voluntarily sur-rendering any power to the propertied majority of the "country." Miltonand Sidney, in addressing specifically the matter of what constitutedcorrect, ethical action when the liberties of the common folk were threat-ened by a ruler, began by analyzing the relationship between the rulerand the ruled. Along with John Locke (1632-1704), they began by reject-ing the notion of the divine right of kings, and argued instead for aconception of government by convention, or "social contract."49 Also,Milton and Sidney concluded that when monarchy became tyranny,rebellion, including execution of the tyrant, was the patriot's duty.

In The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates (1649), written shortly after theexecution of Charles I, Milton set forth his theory that the people owednothing to the king, but, in fact, that the king was only the repository ofthe power entrusted to him by the people.

The power of kings and magistrates is nothing else but what is theonly derivative, transferred and committed to them in trust fromthe people to the common good of them all, in whom yet power


remains fundamentally, and cannot be taken from them without aviolation of their natural birthright.50

It followed from this tenet that "since the king or magistrate holds hisauthority of the people, both originally and naturally for their good inthe first place, and not his own, then may the people, as oft as they shalljudge it for their best, either choose him or reject him, retain him ordepose him."51 The king who misuses the trust of the people ought to beconsidered a rebel against the laws of the country and executed as such.Quoting Seneca, Milton wrote: "There can be slain / No Sacrifice to Godmore acceptable / Than an unjust and wicked King."52

Sidney's Discourses on Government (1698) combined notions of contrac-tual government and the corrupting nature of power to argue for thenecessity of forcefully removing a tyrant. Writing about the king, Sidneydeclared that "the power with which he was entrusted" was rooted "inthe laws of the land and the customs of England," which predated theMagna Carta.53 Because of these "ancient laws" Englishmen may be sure"that no man has a power over us, which is not given or regulated bythem; nor that anything but a new law made by our selves can exemptour kings from the obligation of performing their oaths taken."54

But, noted Sidney, rulers nevertheless attempt to escape their obliga-tions, and, greedy for power beyond that which the law confers, seek toconsolidate their position by corrupting public servants with the promiseof riches. Discussing the power of kings, Sidney observed:

Men are naturally propense to corruption; and if he whose will andinterest it is to corrupt them, be furnished with the means, he willnever fail to do it. Power, honours, riches and the pleasures thatattend them, are the baits by which men are drawn to prefer apersonal interest before the public good; and the number of thosewho covet them is so great, that he who abounds in them will beable to gain so many to his service as shall be sufficient to subduethe rest.55

Like Neville, Sidney believed that "the antient nobility of England,"which by virtue of its property had previously balanced the interests ofthe court, finally had "neither the interests nor the estates" to oppose theCrown. Therefore,

they who by corrupting, changing, enervating and annihilating thenobility, which was the principle support of the antient regularmonarchy, have driven those who are truly noblemen into thesame interest and name with the commons . . . are to answer forthe consequences; and if they perish, their destruction is fromthemselves.56

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Sidney, who was executed in 1683 for alleged complicity in the RyeHouse Plot, was revered in England and America as a martyr to the causeof liberty. His deep mistrust of power led him, ultimately, to encourageviolent rebellion against it.

Eighteenth-century radical Whigs enlarged in their writings on themajor themes of the seventeenth-century Whigs.57 Robert Molesworth,in An Account of Denmark (1694), attempted to show how constitutional-ism in Denmark had been replaced by an absolute monarchy. The workwas intended to be a "case study," of sorts, of the progress of illnesseswithin a society that eventually lead to a loss of liberty. Linking libertywith health, Molesworth prefaced An Account as follows:

Health and Liberty are without dispute the greatest natural blessingsmankind is capable of enjoying. . . . Want of Liberty is a Disease inany Society or Body Politick, like want of Health in a particularPerson; and as the best way to understand the nature of any Dis-temper aright, is to consider it in several patients, since the samedisease may proceed from different causes, so the Disorders inSociety are best perceived by Observing the Nature and Effects ofthem in our severall Neighbors.58

Molesworth demonstrated how the loss of balance in government ledto the establishment of an absolutist monarchy in Denmark in 1660. TheDanish nobles exploited their privilege and strayed from a concern forthe common good that was expected of them. The clergy and the com-mon folk then allied with the monarchy against the nobles, offering theking a hereditary (rather than elective) title. When the king consequentlyoverpowered the nobles, and thus removed the only remaining elementin Denmark that could balance his power, absolutism began.

Molesworth derived many lessons from the history of Denmark, in-cluding the long-term dangers to liberty of a poor educational system,but for his readers in England and America the importance of An Accountlay overwhelmingly in its example of how balanced government was theonly hope against the loss of liberty that an absolutist rule engendered.As Molesworth wrote, "The doctrine of a blind Obedience . . . is theDestruction of the Liberty . . . of any Nation. "59

Molesworth's Principles of a Real Whig (1711) set forth more sys-tematically the credo of a "Real Whig." First, he was committed to amixed constitution of the three estates making up the legislature, withthe executive power in the hands of the monarch. Secondly, a RealWhig, or "commonwealthman," held to the necessity for the frequentrenewal of parliament - every three years or even every year was betterthan every seven years - so as to keep it independent of the court, whichexerted its influence on members by bestowing offices and pensions.


Thirdly, and especially, in the light of Molesworth's analysis of theDanish downfall from constitutionalism, the real Whig was opposed to astanding army under the control of the Crown. A trained militia waspreferable.60

The Anglican bishop Benjamin Hoadly (1675-1761) helped to popu-larize the notion of government by consent, and, like Milton and Sidney,stressed the right and necessity of deposing a ruler who departed fromthe limits of the constitution. In The Original and Institution of CivilGovernment Discuss'd (1710) Hoadly provided an argument based uponbiblical evidence that the "patriarchal scheme of government" - the no-tion that the titles of rulers were sacred because of their connection toAdam and his successors - was faulty and a "pernicious influence . . .upon the present State of the World, and of this Kingdom, in particular,to which we belong."61

Hoadly attempted to prove, in fact, that the origin of civil governmentwas to be located in the concept of consent. Drawing on appropriatepassages from the Old Testament, Hoadly invested government by con-sent with an almost sacred character by suggesting its ancient origins andits legitimation by "the voice of God." Rejecting the notion that Godwould invest the monarch with "such unlimited power, as destroy thevery Ends of all Civil Government," Hoadly wrote:

If some Persons take the Liberty of making a long possession, tho'obtained by force, or Fraud, to be the Voice of God; one wouldthink it need not be scandalous for others to make the voluntaryagreement of a Community of Men, for their common good, theVoice of God, who approves and confirms everything that is justand reasonable.62

Hoadly summarized the contractual scheme of government as follows:The Beginning and Original of any Society of lesser importanceamongst Men, is often a Voluntary Compact, and Agreement: bywhich Voluntary Compact and Agreement some Powers are frequentlydevolv'd upon the particular Persons in this Society, for the answer-ing the Ends of it. But still this Compact and Agreement, designedonly for the answering the Ends proposed, is Superior to the Will ofthose Persons; and is the Rule and Direction of their Actions: Bywhich Rule the whole Society still have a right to judge the be-haviour of those Persons; and to take care that the Ends of theirentring into that Society be answer'd.63

In the writings of Bolingbroke, especially in the essays in The Crafts-man in the 1720s and 1730s, the concerns of the whole line of Oppositionwriters, from Harrington through Trenchard and Gordon, are brought

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together. Pocock, calling Bolingbroke "the last and most spectacular ofthe neo-Harringtonians," comments that "in his writings of the Crafts-man period . . . may be found a full-dress interpretation of English poli-tics and history."64 The essays of this period were published in 1748 inLondon under the title A Collection of Political Tracts by the Author of theDissertation upon Parties and, indeed, serve as a review of the precedingseventy-five years of Opposition thinking.65

In "On Bribery and Corruption" Bolingbroke stated the virtues ofbalanced government:

Our Constitution, as now established, is founded on a most excel-lent Model. We have all the advantages of a brisk Execution fromthe monarchical Part. From the aristocratical, all the conveniences,which are to be found in that Form of Government; and the Mis-chiefs which usually attend it, where it is absolute and unconfined,are in a great Measure blunted by the Power of the Commons. Thisis the Democratical Part of our Constitution. Their share in theBalance is vastly great, as it must be in all good establishments; andthus we partake of all the Benefits and Securities to Liberty, whichresult from these different Kinds of Government.66

But Bolingbroke was keenly aware of the tendency of the governmentto drift from the spirit of the constitution. Even the best design forbalance in government was liable to prove inadequate against theschemes of those who would corrupt it. In "On the Power of the Princeand the Freedom of the People," Bolingbroke paraphrased Machiavellion the matter:

It is the Nature of all Government to deteriorate. As it grows older,it gradually deviates and flies farther from its first Intention, whichis singly the Advantage of Society; till at last it attains such a Degreeof Corruption, that its Order becomes entirely inverted; and thatInstitution, by which the Prince was first only the Servant of thePublick, obliges the Publick to be Slaves to the Prince.67

The particulars by which such a process of corruption came aboutwere explained in "The Freeholder's Catechism." In discussing the checkupon the power of the king that the House of Commons provides, it isobserved that even that part of the government might be corrupted, andthe question is then asked: "Q. How is a Bastard House of CommonsProduced?"

A. When the People by Terror, Corruption, or other Indirect Means,chuse such as they otherwise would not chuse; when such as arefairly chosen are not returned; when such as are returned are turned


out by partial Votes in controverted Elections, and others not fairlychosen set in their Places.Q. How may a House of Commons become Dependent?A. When the Freedom of voting is destroyed by Threatenings, Prom-ises, Punishments, and Rewards; by the open Force of the Govern-ment, or the Insults of the Populace; but above all by private Influ-ence; for they, who armed with the Power of the Crown, havemany ways of gratifying such as are subservient to their Designs,and many Ways of oppressing such as oppose them, both withinthe Bounds of the Law.68

In the writings of Bolingbroke the Opposition story of government,from beginning to end, found expression: Government was founded on acontract between ruler and ruled. The best government was a balancedgovernment. Even balanced government degenerated into tyranny ofone sort or another. The means by which this occurred was "corrup-tion," the purchase of influence by the Crown. Bolingbroke, like Moles-worth, preferred to see a return "to the primitive Purity of the Constitu-tion" through the adoption of specific measures that would limit theencroachment of power in parliament. Specifically, Bolingbroke favoredtriennial parliaments and "instruction" to representatives by their votingconstituencies. But Bolingbroke left open the possibility of outright re-sistance to the Crown: "We know that we are to defend the Crown withour Lives and our Fortunes, as long as the Crown protects us, and keepsstrictly to the Bounds, within which we have confined it. We likewiseknow that we are to do it no longer."69

But just as there is to be found in Bolingbroke a culmination of theideas associated with the Real Whig mistrust of power, there is also to befound an altogether different body of ideas, commonly held throughoutthe Anglo-American world in the early eighteenth century, that centeredon the notion of trust in one's "superiors." In this view, rulers wereunderstood to be superior to the ruled not because of the power vested inthem by the collective, but because of real differences that set them abovethe rest of humanity. Accordingly Bolingbroke claimed that the socialworld consisted of ranks of people arranged into various "stations" withattendant duties and obligations. Thus, social order was characterized by"the multitudes designed to obey, and . . . the few designed to govern."Leaders, "men of more genius than the common herd," emerged to runthe government because, according to the principle of the Great Chain ofBeing, "some men are designed to take care of that government." Thesepersons "are they who engross almost the whole reason of the species;who are born to instruct, to guide and to preserve; who are designed tobe the tutors and the guardians of mankind." These persons "were born

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for something better," and must accept their obligation to fill positionsof authority. Just as the lower ranks of society must not step out of theirplaces and attempt to leave their subordinate ranks in society, so must theeducated and well born not shirk their duties to lead, for "the wholeorder and system . . . would be disordered and spoiled if any alterationwas made in either. "70

Though colonists held a keenly critical view of power and believedthat checks upon power were absolutely necessary to ensure liberty,they, like Bolingbroke, could not give up their reverence for the "bettersort." They therefore often rather uncritically entrusted the civil govern-ment into the hands of "superiors." Of course, this is not to say that aperson of good family or of property automatically became a town se-lectman. But colonists so consistently chose the wealthy for their leadersthat historians have commonly used the word "deference" to describe thecharacter of colonial political society.

The English historian J. R. Pole comments that the colonial periodwas pervaded by a belief in and a sense of the propriety of the socialorder guided and strengthened by principles of dignity on the onehand, and deference on the other. It was, to use the term coined byWalter Bagehot in his account of Victorian England, a deferentialsociety.71

John B. Kirby points out that the colonists' view of politics includedthe "belief that those who held the largest 'stake in society' should bedeferred to by the rest of the population because of their obvious vir-tues."72 For one reason or another, colonists often overlooked the warn-ings of Harrington, Molesworth, and others that the collective, proper-ty-based power of the common folk not be given over to the"aristocracy," or those persons, much fewer in number, who also collec-tively held a large portion of the wealth. Elective representation was noremedy for this tendency. As Richard Buel, Jr., argues, deference incolonial politics is evidenced in part by the fact that a delegate of thepeople was "representative" more in theory than in actual practice:

Far from being the humble servant of his constituents, eighteenthcentury thinkers tended to regard the representative as a quasi-magistrate to whose commands constituents owed presumptiveobedience. Though rhetorically representation involved a delega-tion by the people of their powers to the representative, once therepresentatives had made laws for the people, the people were ex-pected to obey the decisions of their "delegates." Right down untilthe crisis of independence the New England clergy proceeded topreach obedience to one's political superiors, and representatives


were as much within the category of "political superiors" as weregovernors and councilors.73

Clearly, Bolingbroke's views on society were in sharp contrast to hispronouncements on egalitarian social relations, as Isaac Kramnick ob-serves: "A world with social relations determined by contract had noplace for assigned rank; a view of the world that valued individualismand social mobility achieved by acquisition did not accord withBolingbroke's emphasis on the static and functional ordering of men insociety. "74

Americans, like Bolingbroke, held to two seemingly irreconcilablepositions. On the one hand, as Bailyn stresses, "the colonists had nodoubt about what power was, and about its central, dynamic role in anypolitical system. . . . Tower' to them meant the domination of somemen over others, the human control of human life: ultimately, force,compulsion."75 According to Bailyn, when colonists talked aboutpower, they talked about the reasons to mistrust it: "Most commonly thediscussion of power centered on its essential characteristic of aggressive-ness: its endless propulsive tendency to expand itself beyond legitimateboundaries. . . . This central thought . . . explained more . . . to themthan any other single consideration."76

But on the other hand, we find in the writings of colonists, as inBolingbroke's works, strong belief in fixed social rank alongside mis-trust of power. Chauncy, for all of his theorizing about personal libertiesand the common good, was convinced as well that persons were "vari-ously endowed with capacities, some superior, some inferior," andclaimed that "nor could they otherwise have been fitted to fill the placeassigned to them in the chain of being."77

Jonathan Mayhew was such an admirer of Hoadly that he plagiarizedportions of Hoadly's The Measures of Submission to the Civil MagistrateConsidered (1705) to build his own argument for disobeying a tyrant in ADiscourse Concerning Unlimited Submission (1750).78 And although May-hew has frequently been cast as an "apostle of liberty" in the colonies, henevertheless accepted a hierarchical notion of society: "Consider man-kind in general, the main body of the species as they rise. They havealways been, now are, and always must be, poor and low in theworld."79

The political theories of Charles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew aresimilar to those of Bolingbroke in that they combine two seeminglyopposite sets of ideas, namely, the defense of the tradition of deference toone's superiors and insistence upon individual liberty. In Civil MagistratesMust Be Just (1747) Chauncy brought these themes together in a wayconsistent with his understanding of how God acted in history. It is clear

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that Chauncy believed that God acted through "secondary causes":Earthquakes, for example, were brought about by secondary causes that"concurred" with God's will.80 For the bones of this idea Chauncy wasindebted to Newton, and especially to Robert Boyle, who had acceptedmuch of the scientific method based on an atomistic understanding of thecosmos, but yet had not given up belief in final causes, or Divine Provi-dence.81 Chauncy's conception of evil took shape within a frameworkthat connected divine will with "efficient causes" (to use the popularterminology), but in a way oftentimes hidden from human understand-ing. Chauncy argued that certain events, though seemingly evil, couldactually be for good: The effect of the efficient cause may be the damagedone by an earthquake, but the result will be beneficial, because God hasordered the universe for good. Conrad Wright thus described Chauncy'sscheme as one in which "natural evils are the effect of established laws,whose purpose and tendency are beneficial."82 Such a scheme of second-ary cause and divine will was, then, essentially of a dialectical nature, onein which cosmic order emerged in the meeting between worldly evil andeternal good, and one which would be echoed in the next century inHegel's explicitly dialectical understanding of history as the meetingbetween spirit and concrete events.83

In explaining his political theory, then, Chauncy used the same sort ofreasoning in claiming that "it must be remembered here, a distinctionmust always be made between government in its general notion, andparticular form and Manner ofadministration."84 Just as there was a differ-ence between efficient and material causes in nature, there was forChauncy a critical difference between the idea of government and itsadministration: "'Tis easy to distinguish between government in its ab-stracted notion, and the faithful advantageous administration of it. "85

The significance of such a theory lay in its capacity to allow for a distinc-tion of ends of government, but yet to claim that government was a"whole" always consistent in its ends.

Chauncy thus argued that God had ordained superiority in some per-sons so as to ensure the protection of individuals and their separateinterests. However, "it cannot be affirmed, that this or that particularform of government is made necessary by the will of God and reason ofthings."86 The people in general shall determine which mode of govern-ment will best allow for the public good: "The mode of civil rule may inconsistency with the public good, admit of variety, and it has, in fact,been various in different nations: Nor has it always continued the same,in the same nation."87 The peculiar circumstances of each communitymust be considered in deciding what "mode" of government will bemost appropriate: "As long as the general ends of society are providedfor and secured, the determination may be various, according to the


circumstances, policies, tempers, and interests of differentcommunities. "88

Just as the choice of mode of government was left up to the people,"the same may be said of the manner of vesting particular persons withcivil power. "89 Chauncy explained that persons are entrusted with powerso that they can promote the common good: "The design of that powersome are entrusted with . . . is for the general good." The rights of thepeople in general, not just the concerns of some propertied individuals,were important, so that rulers "must take all proper care to preserveentire the civil rights of a people." The authority of government, ul-timately, was ordained by God: "For Kings, and princes and nobles, and allthe judges of the earth, are here represented as reigning and ruling by God:Yea, they are stiled the ministers of God; and the powers that be aredeclared to be ordained of God."90 But, as the purpose of government wasto promote the common good, as well as to protect individual property,it was clear to Chauncy that the manner in which a ruler was vested withcivil power should make clear the limits of his God-given authority.Most important, it should set forth the boundaries of his authority insuch a way as to prevent him from taking advantage of the people ingeneral in order to advance the interests of his own circle.

Chauncy affirmed that

whatever power they are vested with, 'tis delegated them accordingto some civil constitution. And this, so long as it remains theconstitution, they are bound in justice to conform themselves to:To be sure, they ought not to act in violation of any of its main andessential rights.91

Chauncy used the example of the British constitution, with its balance ofpower among three interest groups in society, to clarify this point:

The constitution is branched into several parts, and the power orig-inally lodged in it, is divided, in certain measures, to each part, inorder to preserve, a balance in the whole. Rulers, in this case, ineither branch of the government, are bounded by the constitution,and obliged to keep within the proper limits assigned them; neverclashing in the exercise of power, never encroaching upon therights of each other. . . . As in the British constitution, whichdevolves the power of the state, in certain proportions, on Kings,Lords, and Commons, they have neither of them a right to invade theprovince of others, but are required, by the rule of righteousness,to keep severally within their own boundaries, acting in unionamong themselves, and consistency with the constitution.92

It was understood that the king, the Lords, and the Commons eachhad their own interests, but it was assumed that they would act "in

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union" with each other while still remaining within their own bounds. Insuch a way, no single interest would take precedence over the publicgood, because "a balance in the whole" would be maintained. Struc-turally, this explanation of constitutional government coincided withChauncy's theory of government on a more general level, as a meetingbetween the "abstract notion" that property was to be protected and the"manner of administration" that would promote the common good.These ends, as Chauncy described them, were essentially different but,like the three estates, were expected to cooperate in bringing about a"whole" government.

Mayhew, like Chauncy, upheld the tradition of respect for one's "su-periors." While a student at Harvard, Mayhew copied into his notes thefollowing observation drawn from a book in a series entitled Lady'sLibrary: "It is impossible for any Company of People to Subsist anywhile together, without a Subordination of one to the other." Theremust be "some kind of Superiority" in order for people to "governthemselves."93 Two decades later, just before the passage of the SugarAct, Mayhew made a point of passing on the same advice to a newgeneration of students: "But I must not omit to remind you of the honorand obedience which you owe to your civil superiours."94

But Mayhew did not believe that subordination was the sole organiz-ing principle of political order. In Mayhew's theory of government,private interest was held in tension with the common good. Concern forthe security of individual property was balanced by recognition of theimportance and necessity of the public welfare. In Mayhew's interpreta-tion of Locke's social-contract theory, this tension is evident. In May-hew's notes for a sermon preached in March 1759, the "mutual subser-vience" of the principles of private interest and common good are againevident, this time in a comparison he made between the government ofthe kingdom of God and civil government.

Mayhew began by defining the end of civil government, stressing the"private property" side of the theory: "It will not, I conclude, be deniedby any, that the primary and principal End of civil Society, of all govern-ment merely human, is the Security of Men's lives and properties, andtheir mutual Benefit, considered as inhabitants of this Earth. "95 May-hew's stress on "mutual" again suggests a reciprocal concern amongindividuals, rather than an abstract "common good." The government ofthe kingdom of God, on the other hand, aims at "spiritual and eternalgood" and is concerned with "morals" and "virtue."96

Having made this distinction, Mayhew stressed repeatedly, in severaldifferent ways, that the two governments fit perfectly together. Distin-guishing each from its dangerous extreme, he noted the harmony be-tween them: "And the true kingdom of Christ, and civil government, asdistinguished from mere tyranny and usurpation, are all the time in


perfect Harmony."97 Again, qualifying his statement by ruling out ex-tremes, Mayhew pressed the point of the "mutual subservience" of the"worldly and temporal" government and the "moral and eternal"government:

It is to be further observed here, that the kingdom of Christ andcivil government, as distinguished from the abuses and perversionsthereof, do not only not counteract one another, but are subser-vient to the true interests of each other, mutually affording Aid andAssistance to the accomplishment of their respective Ends; one theworldly and temporal, the other the moral, spiritual, and eternalgood of Mankind.98

Mayhew argued that the kingdom of Christ "coincides with thedesign" of civil government.99 The ends of Christ's laws "perfectly coin-cide" with the ends of civil laws, although "the means by which theseends are pursued and attained are also different."100 Again, Mayhewclaimed that the two modes of government "do not by any means ob-struct or oppose each other, but are mutually subservient to each other inattaining their respective ends."101 It is therefore a fact, though it mayseem a "paradox," that civil government, whose ends are worldly andtemporal, engenders morality in people:

The most fundamental Principles of all civil government, tho' youwill at first think this a Paradox, are right and moral in their nature;yea, which may seem a greater Paradox still, the laws of civilsociety in general are such, as tend to . . . actually produce in somemeasure this moral Effect.102

Mayhew concluded that "almost all civil governments" therefore actu-ally encourage "Virtuous Practice, as a means of strengthening the Bodyof Society."

As Mayhew preached in another sermon, the civil ruler, as the embod-iment of the twofold purpose of government, was thus, when one con-sidered the "virtue" and "public good" end of government, similar to aminister: "All civil rulers, as such, are the ordinance and ministers of God;and they are all, by the nature of their office . . . bound to consult thepublic welfare."103

The civil ruler was also similar to God in that both were "parents."Just as God was the head of a "family of children," so also was the civilruler a parent.104 In Two Sermons on the Nature of the Divine Goodness,Mayhew explained the role of the parent in detail, and in his analogy ofthat role to the civil ruler, Mayhew emphasized that certain individuals insociety must sometimes be punished by the ruler so that the general goodmay be preserved. Though Mayhew's example explicitly pitted personal

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interest against the common good, his analysis of justice in society madeit utterly "co-incident" with goodness.

Mayhew began by explaining "that in a wise and good earthly parent,there is really no such distinction . . . betwixt goodness and justice, noteven in punishing; but the former includes the latter."105 A parent mustsometimes discipline a child, but this is always "with a view to thebenefit of his other children, or those of the household. . . . In this case,inflicting adequate punishment, or such as is adapted to the good endsproposed, is plainly goodness."106 Mayhew added that in such a casepunishment "is so far from being either opposite to, or any thing reallydistinct from kindness or goodness, that the parent would be less kindand good than he is, if he did not punish."107 Mayhew concluded thediscussion of the parental action by stating that "in a good parent . . .there is no such quality as justice, really distinct from goodness; not evenin punishing: For it is goodness itself that gives the blow."108

This role of the parent is analogous to the role of the civil ruler: "Thesame is the case in civil government."109 With the good of his subjectsalways in mind, the ruler does not "inflict any punishments, but what heconsiders needful for the support of the government; - if not for theparticular good of those that suffer, as in capital cases, yet for the good ofthe people in general."110 The "particular good" must sometimes sufferfor the general good, but such a situation is in no way a conflict ofprinciples in government, because "the justice in the sovereign is no realquality in him, distinct from goodness. It is goodness, or a regard to thecommon good, that takes off the head of the traitor."111 The reconcilia-tion of seemingly opposite ends was intelligible because such ends werethe product of principles that were compatible. As Mayhew explained inapplying them further to God, "Goodness and justice in him, therefore,are not to be considered as opposites: They may, in all cases withoutexception, be coincident."112 Goodness and justice, like virtue andworldly concerns, and like common good and private interest, weredialectically related in Mayhew's theory of government.

Given this rather abstract understanding of the nature and function ofgovernment - and in spite of the fact that the two men were consideredby their contemporaries to be leaders of revolutionary politics - it is notsurprising that Chauncy and Mayhew sometimes lacked the confidencenecessary to apply those principles fully to the problems of everyday life.Mayhew informed his audience on one occasion that the application ofpolitical theory could be a "thorny" matter: "I will not meddle with thethorny question whether, or how far, it might be justifiable for privatemen, at certain extraordinary conjectures, to take the administration ofgovernment into their own hands."113


But it is clear that Mayhew upheld the right to remove a tyrant. Hedeclared, first of all, that "civil liberty also supposeth, that those laws, bywhich a nation is governed, are made by common consent andchoice."114 He then proposed further that civil liberty was contingentupon the free selection of a ruler and the delegation of the powers of thestate to that person by the people: "People may enjoy civil liberty,though governed by a single person, provided it is by their own choice,and they delegate the powers of government to him."115 This was legiti-mated by a claim of historical origins, "authority's being originally atrust, committed by the people, to those who are vested with it."116

A ruler has no authority except that which is entrusted to him by thepeople, and if he betrays the common good, he can be removed fromoffice. In Unlimited Submission Mayhew asked: "What unprejudiced mancan think, that God made ALL to be thus subservient to the lawlesspleasure and phrenzy of ONE?"117 He stated the principle in less rhetoricalfashion in his notes, writing that people reserve "to themselves a right tojudge, whether he [the ruler] discharges his trust well or ill, to discardhim, and appoint another in his stead."118 Resistance to civil authoritywas thus, in theory, legitimate, but Mayhew stopped short of givingmore specific guidelines for civil disobedience, noting only that toomuch disobedience (like too much authority, one supposes) was an ex-treme that brought the worst consequences:

But then, if unlimited and passive obedience to the higher powers, inall possible cases, be not a duty, it will be asked, "How far are weobliged to submit? If we may innocently disobey and resist in somecases, why not in all? Where shall we stop? What is the measure ofour duty?" This doctrine tends to the total dissolution of civil gov-ernment; and to introduce such scenes of wild anarchy and confu-sion, as are more fatal to society than the worst of tyranny.119

Chauncy was likewise nervous about government becoming unbal-anced in the direction of either tyranny or anarchy. When a governmentwent out of balance, the people were justified, in the interest of thecommon good, in removing the ruler. Chauncy wrote that rulers who"abuse their power; applying it to the purposes of tyranny and oppres-sion, rather than to serve the good ends of government, it ought to betaken out of their hands."120 However, a government could becomeunbalanced in the other direction: "A people's liberties may be in dangerfrom others, besides those in the highest rank of government."121 Anar-chy as well as tyranny was a danger:

The men who strike with the popular cry of liberty and privele&ge,working themselves, by an artful application to the fears and jeal-

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ousies of the people, into their good opinion of them as lovers oftheir country, if not the only stanch friends to its interest, may, allthe while, be only aiming at power to carry everything accordingto their own sovereign pleasure: And they are, in most cases, themost dangerous enemies to the community.122

All of this made the choice of leaders, at least in a New England townor community, a tricky matter. Because of the tradition of deference,political office was still generally tied to wealth. Political power andwealth, as Bailyn notes, "had a natural affinity for each other":

Americans of 1760 continued to assume, as had their predecessors ageneration before, that a healthy society was a hierarchical society,in which it was natural for some to be rich and some poor, somehonored and some obscure, some powerful and some weak. And itwas believed that superiority was unitary, that the attributes of thefavored - wealth, wisdom, power - had a natural affinity to eachother, and hence that political leadership would naturally rest in thehands of the social leaders.123

Indeed, as late as the 1780s, John Adams observed that wealth, evenmore than birth, bestowed status:

Nay, farther, it will not be denied, that among the wisest peoplethat live, there is a degree of admiration, abstracted from all depen-dence, obligation, expectation, or even acquaintance, which ac-companies splendid wealth, insures some respect and bestows someinfluence. . . .

Fortune, it is true, has more influence than birth. A rich man ofordinary family and common decorum of conduct may have fargreater weight than any family member commonly confers with-out it.124

Edward M. Cook's analysis bears out further the connection betweenwealth and political office. Taking the towns of Bolton, Connecticut,and Murray field, Massachusetts, as explicit examples of seating pro-cedures in town meetings of the eighteenth century, Cook concludes thatwealth, age, and public service were the three most important criteriaused in determining whether an individual sat in the front, the middle, orthe back of the meeting house.125

Though Chauncy and Mayhew believed that some distinctions of "in-ferior/superior" could be made among citizens, both men rejected wealthas the sole criterion for political officeholding. Beyond this, however,neither man was able to explain exactly which qualities and charactertraits ought to be present in a ruler. Chauncy wrote: "Meerly their being


men of birth and fortune, is not a sufficient recommendation."126 Anovereagerness for "honor or profit" was likewise a sign of unfitness. Menof small accomplishment were "unmeet to be exalted to places of impor-tant trust." The most important factor in choosing a leader was "suita-bility": "The main thing to be lookt at in the choice of persons for thisservice, is their suitableness to it."127 For Chauncy, this most likelymeant someone like Edward Wigglesworth, who was "in no ways rigidin his attachment to any scheme, yet steady to his own principles."128

Mayhew understood that it was one thing to write about the necessityfor avoiding extremes, for preserving the coincidence of seemingly op-posite principles: The writer was able, by his single-minded study, toprovide some degree of coherence to his theory. The politician,however, required a different sort of skill. In his notes on Pascal, May-hew included a section on the difference between a person who is "dis-posed for a deep and vigourous penetration into the Consequence ofprinciples" and a person who has a great "capacity" for principles because"his mind rather feels them than sees them."129 Those who hold publicoffice are of the latter sort, and have little use for "the way of Defini-tions." Rather, Mayhew wrote, "Politick Heads . . . judge of things byWay of Intuition."130 Indeed, it may only have been by "intuition" thatanyone, political officeholder or private citizen, was able to make deci-sions in such a complex political society as the one Mayhew described.

In government, what was dangerous was what was "extreme," andthat which was beneficial was that which "coincided." True religionbalanced private judgment and ministerial authority, and a legitimategovernment balanced private interest with the common good, deferencewith equality. Such a government was a moral government. A ruler waslike a minister in that he promoted and protected the national morality.Morality was, in essence, itself a balance of self-love and benevolence.

Chauncy wrote of "the existence of an infinitely perfect principle ofbenevolence," and described it as "that quality, in the human mind,without which we could not be the objects of one another's esteem."131

Chauncy claimed that benevolence "'tis natural to us, one of the princi-ples implanted in our original frame, and what we all partake of."132

Mayhew agreed that "the benevolent uses and ends of almost all parts ofthe visible creation: are very obvious," and argued that the practice ofmoral virtue coincided with God's benevolent design: "We are underobligation to practice what is usually called moral virtue; for by this weimitate God: and fall in with his benevolent design."133 Benevolence is a"simple, uniform principle" that "Naturally and necessarily leads to this;i.e., to the practice of every virtue without exception."134

But benevolence as the principle upon which "the good order andhappiness of the world depends"135 was of little use without its comple-

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ment, wisdom, to guide it. In explaining that benevolence must be bal-anced with wisdom, Mayhew asked: "How often do very kind parentsdestroy their children, even by their kindness itself, for want of reasonand discretion proportioned thereto."136 Benevolence out of proportionto wisdom could cause "prodigious mischiefs" in nations and empires,and in the universe as a whole as well:

From hence we may in some measure conjecture, if we are notafraid even to think what might be the consequence even of bound-less power, tho' accompanied with universal benevolence, but noadequate wisdom, exerting itself at once thro'out the universe. Thevery tho't is sufficient to fill One with dread and terror!137

For benevolence to be more than a "blind impulse or instinct . . . sup-poses, that benevolence is always under the direction of reason," whichdirects it into "the channels in which it is to flow."138 Mayhew stated that

simple benevolence not directed by knowledge, would be only aloving, kind, sort of phrenzy or distraction, which it is probable mightdo as much hurt as good. . . . But he that is wise as well asbenevolent, will observe those methods of acting, which are themost conducive to happiness.139

Chauncy agreed that benevolence "though infinite in its source, orprinciple, must yet be limited, restrained, and governed in all its man-ifestations, by wisdom, equity, and justice, or it may, in the final resultof its operations, do more hurt than good."140 If left unbalanced, benev-olence would tend toward an extreme that would "counteract" its nature:"Benevolence, though of infinite propelling force, if not guided in its opera-tions by wisdom and intelligence, instead of producing nothing but good,might, by blindly counteracting itself, produce upon the whole, as the final resultof its exertions, infinite confusion and disorder."141

Benevolence governed by wisdom was essentially equivalent to a mix-ture of benevolence and self-love. Mayhew took up the matter directly inasking, "What is intended by our loving our neighbour as ourselves?'Mayhew first suggested that "it may be reasonably questioned whether itis possible for mankind in this world, or perhaps in any other, to be sobenevolent, as not to have a peculiar feeling for themselves."142 Thinkingsuch benevolence to be unlikely, Mayhew suggested that the preceptmay require that persons simply "have a real concern, in some degree, forthe welfare of others." Mayhew dismissed this understanding as well:"But this interpretation seems to be as much too low and jejune, as theabove mentioned was too sublime and elevated."143 A third, and accept-able, interpretation explicitly balanced benevolence with self-love:


It seems necessary therefore, that we pitch upon some third way ofinterpreting the matter before us. And perhaps the sense of it maybe this - that we should not barely love our neighbour, but that ourlove to him bear some certain proportions to our self-love; that we lovehim to such a degree, as shall prevent us from doing any injury tohim for the sake of private interest; that in all our intercourse withhim, we should do to him, as we would that he should to do us.144

True benevolence balanced private interest with concern for the com-mon good. This "balanced" sort of benevolence was what Mayhewreferred to as a "mutual benevolence," and its action in society wascompared to the "mutual gravitation" of planets that keeps them fromgetting either too close to or too far from each other: "The constitutionof the world is such, that plenty, peace, and happiness can prevail nofarther than a foundation is laid for them in mutual benevolence . . . justas the regular motions and harmony of the heavenly bodies depend upontheir mutual gravitation towards each other."145

Chauncy, like Mayhew, pointed out that "we suppose social as well asprivate affection to have been 'implanted'" in persons.146 There are, heexplained, "two grand principles in human nature, self-love and benev-olence, the former determining us to private, the latter to public good."147

The proper application of benevolence resulted in actions that "fitted"private good to public good: "It is easy to understand the meaning offitness, when predicated of benevolent actions, and how it is eternallyreasonable, from the fitness of the thing itself, for a being so constituted, toseek the welfare of others as his own."148 Self-love, the advancement ofone's own happiness, was a principle that cooperated with benevolencein bringing about good. True benevolence was not a "blind" kindness,but a foundation for "mutual" trust. Public happiness was not an abstrac-tion, but the concrete result of the cooperation of private and publicinterest. By "tempering our other qualities," benevolence "constitutes usworthy objects of each other's love, and lays the foundation for thatmutual trust between man and man, without which there could be nosuch thing as public happiness."149

In the mid eighteenth century, an atmosphere of tension was present inpolitical thought as well as in religion. Chauncy and Mayhew, in re-sponding to this tension, outlined a theory of government that blendedself-interest with the common good and deference with equality. Just asthe Great Awakening had forced them (as it had the revivalists them-selves) to respond hurriedly to new currents of religious life and thought,so too did the tax and trade controversies with England that began at midcentury provoke them into statements about government. These state-ments were often rather rough-hewn. Indeed, in specifying only "suita-

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bleness" or "intuition" as qualities required of an officeholder, Mayhewand Chauncy were hardly performing a practical service to their fellowAmericans. However, when their writings on government are takentogether and viewed against the background of English thought and theconditions of political life in America, it is clear that the ideas found inthose writings were closely organized around the principles of balance,wholeness, and mutuality. The political ideas of these two Boston liber-als sometimes lacked precision, but, like their religious ideas, they weresystematic and coherent.

In addition to religion and government, a third area of colonial experi-ence, that of socioeconomic organization - particularly the matter ofrank and status - evidenced further qualities that fueled the overall limi-nal quality of American life. Again the problem centered on the relationof the individual to the collective, on the matter of reconciling the fact ofindividual social advancement with the vision of the social whole as afixed order of ranks. The socioeconomic problem thus coincided neatlywith the nature of the dichotomies in religion and in political thought,and it confirmed the sense that life hovered between seemingly oppositeelements.

Chapter 4

Society: a balance of stasis and movement

Political deference to individuals with property, as a practical policy, wasthe corollary of a more general principle of colonial society, namely, thatsociety was divided into fixed, clearly recognizable ranks or orders. Thedivision of society into three broad groups - the "better sort," the"middling sort," and the "lower sort" - was partly the result of theopportunity for the accumulation of land and profits in a newly settledpart of the world, and partly, as Clinton Rossiter has pointed out, theproduct of "the inheritance from England and Europe of a tradition ofsocial stratification."1 This consciousness of class distinctions is graph-ically illustrated in an excerpt from the autobiography of DevereuxJarratt:

We were accustomed to look upon what were called gentle folks, asbeings of a superior order. For my part I was quite shy of them, andkept off at a humble distance. A periwig in those days was a distin-guishing badge of gentle folk and when I saw a man riding theroad, near our house, with a wig on, it would so alarm my fearsand give me such a disagreeable feeling that I would dare say that Iwould run off, as for my life. Such ideas as between the differencebetween gentle and simple were, I believe, universal among all myrank and age.2

The fact that there was general agreement among colonists of a hier-archy of social rank is interestingly illustrated, again, in an incident re-corded in the diary of Samuel Sewall, in the early eighteenth century. Ithappened that a certain church meeting was poorly attended becausemost of the congregation believed it be a gathering only for "gentle-men. " The mistake was traced to a slip by a Mr. Pemberton in wording theinvitation to the meeting. Sewall related that the meeting was "very thin,

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Several came not because Mr. Pemberton said Gentlemen of the churchand Congregation; [the absent ones] affirmed they were not Gentlemenand therefore they were not warned to come."3

Another story, from Virginia, suggests that class consciousness wasimportant to colonial social relations in more subtle ways. In this case, aman of the "lower sort" was actually fined for arranging a race betweenhis horse and that of a man of higher status:

James Bollocke, a Taylor, haveing made a race for his mare to runnwth a horse belonging to Mr. Mathew Slader for twoe thousandpounds of tobacco and caske, it being contrary to Law for a La-bourer to make a race, being a sport only for Gentlemen, is finedfor the same one hundred pounds of tobacco and caske.4

Even the Quakers in Pennsylvania, among whom one might or-dinarily expect a more egalitarian view of society, declared in their an-nual meeting in 1722 in Philadelphia that the differences not be obscured"betwixt those different Ranks and Degrees of men." In 1768, JohnSmith, a retired Quaker merchant, gave the same opinion, declaring that"in the different classes of mankind . . . the higher sorts" were "intitled toproportionable respect and rank." Smith declared: "I am not of levellingprinciples."5

Of course, just as wealth bestowed virtue and delivered political officeto some persons, it guaranteed for everyone who possessed it member-ship in the "better sort." Jackson Turner Main writes: "Among all thefactors that created social distinctions, property was the most important,and when the men of the revolutionary era referred to classes, they mostcommonly meant the unequal distribution of wealth." Main quotes aMaryland farmer on the matter: "Where wealth is hereditary, power ishereditary; for wealth is power - Titles are of very little or no consequence- the rich are nobility, and the poor, plebeians."6

John Day, the Nova Scotia merchant, essentially agreed with theviewpoint of the Mary lander. In Remarks on American Affairs (1774) heobserved that at the top of the social hierarchy could be found fourseparate orders, and he connected wealth explicitly with the highest ofthese.

The first order of men I shall treat of, are those who possess thegreatest share of property, unconnected with commerce. This classis principally composed of such who live by the interest of theirmoney . . . and others, who have already made, or are making,their fortunes by Land-jobbing. . . . The next order, in point ofconsequence are the commercial men, who vary their claims anddesires as it serves their immediate interests.7


Mayhew and Chauncy often wrote in defense of social deference andof the static character of social order, arguing that society was dividedinto "spheres" or "stations," the boundaries of which were not to becrossed. Bracketing individual advance as "uncommon," Mayhew up-held the necessity for a lower class:

But leave uncommon, extraordinary examples of both prosperityand adversity, out of the question for the present; and considermankind in general, the main body of the species as they rise. Theyalways have been, now are, and always must be, poor and low inthe world; obliged to toil hard, to rise early, and set up late, inorder to get a livelihood for themselves and families, eating thebread of carefulness.8

For Mayhew, God "preserves the respective orders distinct, from ageto age. "9 For this reason it was best that persons accept their "station" or"rank" in life: "Let us be faithful and diligent in discharging the duties ofour several stations in life."10 The good of society was dependent uponpersons filling their place in the hierarchy of stations. An industriousperson was still confined to a rank or station in the social order. Such aperson "cannot be a mischievous member of society: Nay, he cannot butbe serviceable, and a real ornament to it in his station, whether high orlow."11

Diligence was recommended for persons of all stations, but in certaincontexts Mayhew and Chauncy disconnected "diligence" from the ideaof advancement. In The Snare Broken (1766), a sermon occasioned by therepeal of the Stamp Act, Mayhew expressed his approval of oppositionto England, but nevertheless urged his congregation to turn their di-ligence back into its proper channels:

Let us apply ourselves with diligence, and in the fear of God, to theduties of our respective stations. There has been a general dissipa-tion among us for a long time; a great neglect and stagnation ofbusiness. Even the poor, and labouring part of the community,whom I am very much from despising, have had so much to sayabout government alnd politics, in the late times of danger, tumultand confusion, that many of them seemed to forget, they had any-thing to do. Methinks it would now be expedient for them andperhaps for most of us, to do something more, and talk somethingless; everyone "studying to be quiet and to do his own business";Letting things return peacefully into their old channels, and naturalcourses, after so long an interruption. My immediate aim is what Inow say, being only to recommend industry, good order, andharmony.12

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One ought to prosper in one's own station. Each employment had itspeculiar duties, and, declared Mayhew "those persons who faithfully andworthily discharge them, are worthy of honor in their respective sta-tions."13 Chauncy, who was provoked into a defense of the social orderby the seeming "anarchy" of the Awakening, further emphasized thewrongness of "entring into other Men's Labours." Chauncy condemnedthose "who keep not within their own Bounds, but go over into otherMen's Labours: They herein intermeddle in what does not belong tothem, and are properly Busie-Bodies."14 "Busie-Bodies" were those guiltyof "acting in the proper Sphere of others."15 Concerned, in particular, overthe Awakening practices of itineracy, lay preaching, and female preach-ing, Chauncy concluded in Seasonable Thoughts: "Good Order is theStrength and Beauty of the World. - The Prosperity both of the Churchand State depends very much on it. And can there be order, where Mentransgress the Limits of their Station, and intermeddle in the Business ofOthers?"16 Chauncy emphasized that it was important to "check theundue influence of appetites and passions; and to keep them within theirproper sphere," and similar reasoning dictated that society was endan-gered by the practice of "private Christians in quitting their own properstation, to act in that which belongs to another. Such a practice as thisnaturally tends to destroy that order, God has constituted in the church,and may be followed with mischiefs greater than we may be aware of. "17

Prosperity "both of Church and State" was thus contingent not uponadvance through diligence but upon the diligent performance of theduties of one's own station. It was best, wrote Chauncy, "for everyone tobe faithful, in doing what is proper to him in his own Place."18 Personsdiffered in their God-given capacities: "Some he endows with greater,some with smaller capacities."19 They likewise differed in the level oftheir station in society. They ought therefore to act their proper part intheir social relations. Chauncy wrote: "In Respect of Men, they willbehave towards them, if they are Superiors, with a modest Deference andRespect; if they are Inferiors, with Kindness and Condescension; and ifthey are Equals, with a friendly, affable freedom."20

Mayhew in like manner declared that "a DISRESPECTFUL or contemptuousbehaviour towards your superiors, whether in age or in office," was "anheinous offense against the laws of God and against society."21 In anothersermon, Mayhew tested his congregation with the following questions:"Do you honor your superiors? Are you condescending to yourinferiors?"22

Mayhew argued that persons ought not to affect the dignity of a rankabove their own by dressing in a manner above their station. Mayhewpointed out that "not only the custom of all civilized nations in all ages,but the holy scriptures themselves, warrant some distinction of dress in


persons, answerable to the differences in their stations and circumstancesin life. "23 But many young people, "instead of being content with suchclothing as is suitable to their degree and circumstances, to their own orto their parents worldly estate, aspire after what is far beyond either. "24

Therefore, their clothing is "wholly disproportionate to their rank andcircumstances." Such affectation upsets the explicit separation of one partof society from another, and in so doing upsets "the natural order ofthings":

By this means those good ends which might otherwise be answeredin society, by the distinction of dress, are in a great measure de-feated; for this confounds all ranks, destroys due subordination,and even inverts the natural order of things, by settling poor peopleof low degree above the rich, and those that are on high.25

Chauncy likewise offered in defense of class distinctions a scripturalargument. Arguing against communism in primitive Christianity,Chauncy stated: "It may be further worthy of notice, the new testamentwriters are so far from reducing Christians to a level, by putting themupon having all things in common, that they obviously suppose thereactually was, and would be, a difference between them in outward cir-cumstances."26 Chauncy turned the tables on those who would use scrip-ture to defend the idea of a society without social distinctions:

Hence they often speak of the members of this, and the otherChristian church under the characters of rich and poor; whichwould have been altogether improper, if Christianity had destroyedthis distinction, by obliging all that were believers to have all thingsin common. And not only do the apostolic writers speak of richand poor in the church, but graft many of their instructions uponthis difference there was in the worldly circumstances of its mem-bers. The rich, particularly, are applied to as such, and minded ofthe duty they are applied to in this capacity.27

Social status in America was, however, less fixed than such statementsby Chauncy, Mayhew, and others might suggest. Movement in and outof the upper class was eminently possible according to the rise and fall ofone's fortunes. For example, Main, after studying the 1771 Mas-sachusetts tax roll, concluded that the highest level of Boston society wasfilled with families who had climbed there over a relatively short periodof time.28 It was not uncommon for persons to rise from their positionamong the "middling sort" (or even, though rarely, the "lower sort")into the highest social stratum. Equality of opportunity made verticalmobility an integral part of the social system in the colonies in the eigh-teenth century. Writing about the colonial "middling sort," Clinton

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Rossiter states: "Up from this class had climbed hundreds of the proudestfamilies of the aristocracy, and up to it climbed, especially in prosperoustimes, thousands upon thousands of servants, laborers, and other un-propertied men."29

Chauncy and Mayhew believed that perfectibility in nature camethrough the cultivation of one's potential, and that advancement in one'sworldly circumstances was possible in the same way. Idleness was seenas an unnatural state of being. Mayhew warned his congregation of "thefatal consequences of sloth," and, addressing himself to the young peoplein the congregation, he affirmed: "Another sin against which you are tobe particularly warned, is idleness, the neglect of business, or the tnis-spenceof time; all of which come nearly to the same thing. Time is indeedprecious, if eternity itself is of any importance."30 Chauncy concurredthat the "neglect of business" would lead to "an indolent inactive way oflife. "31 Such misspent time and inactivity led, for Chauncy, to disorderor subversion: "Whenever persons are idle, they are disorderly: For an idleLife is, in the whole of it, a Disorder. It subverts the Order God hasestablished for the Support of Mankind. "32 Mayhew added that idlenessled to criminality:

It is morally impossible for any person to neglect the proper dutiesof life, or to live long in idleness, without falling into such practicesas are positively criminal: For the idle person is not only peculiarlyexposed to the snares and seductions of the "wicked One," butdoes, as it were, tempt the devil to tempt him.33

Chauncy argued that work was one of the "established Laws of Na-ture," and reasoned further that "Industrious Labour is therefore the Lawof Christianity."34 It was thus necessary that individuals strive diligentlyto reach goals. In Striving to Enter In at the Strait Gate (1761), Mayhewexplained the meaning of "striving," in a general way, as "opposed toindifference, negligence, and sloth; and implies an intense application ofthe mind and faculties, in order to effect what we have in view."35 In theworld of goods, diligent striving brought wealth. Mayhew pointed outto his congregation that diligence could "secure and advance yourwealth":

It should be observed that many of those virtues which belong tothe head of Christian sobriety, have, in their very nature, a directtendency to promote your interests and happiness. For example,diligence in your worldly callings, temperance in meat and drink,and a virtuous moderation in other respects, have a plain, directtendency to secure and advance your wealth, health, and ease; andto prolong your lives. In conformity thereto, Solomon says of


wisdom that "length of days is in her right hand, and in her left,riches and honor."36

Chauncy made the same assumption: "And so necessary an expedient isDiligence in order to Wealth, that if men are idle, they will unavoidablybe poor."37

Moreover, the practice of virtue tended toward the accumulation ofwealth, no matter what one's capacity. In discussing happiness, Mayhewwrote:

If you place it in worldly riches, religion and virtue are very friend-ly to it in this view: Whereas there are many vices that tend directlyto poverty: much more so than any one virtue that can be named.These things are not only certain, but obvious; they lie level to allcapacities. And is it not a great recommendation of religion to yourjudgement, your reason, that it is the most sure and effectual meansavailable, some extraordinary cases being excepted, to promoteyour temporal felicity in all these respects?38

Accumulation of wealth by diligence and industry, even by personswho began with little property, was a fact of colonial life clear to Chaun-cy and Mayhew. Chauncy wrote: "Men, it is true, may come to thepossession of Wealth by Inheritance. But Wealth, even in this case, wasoriginally the purchase of Labour; and it is only in this Way that it can beimproved to Advantage."39 Persons could improve their wealth by di-ligence, but persons of low rank could, as well, acquire wealth by di-ligence. Even the poor, wrote Chauncy, could "rise and prosper":

But however it may be as to Men of Substance, those, who havetheir Fortunes to make, must certainly take Pains. They may aswell expect to be learned without study, as to be rich withoutDiligence. If a man's circumstances are low, he can rise and prosperin no other Way, but that of Industry.40

Like Mayhew, Chauncy quoted Proverbs in support of such a claim: "Tothis purpose are those Proverbs of Solomon, Ch. 10. v. 4. 'He becomethpoor that dealeth with a slack Hand: But the hand of the diligent makethrich. . .'"41

Mayhew, like Chauncy, also believed that hard work enabled one toaccumulate property, but in Sermons on the Following Subjects (1755) headded that "to heap up uncertain riches" was not always the way tohappiness. Certainly, there were "those, whose circumstances placethem above the necessity of labouring for their daily bread. "42 But suchpersons, after having labored all their lives to accumulate wealth,43

should realize that riches might "suddenly 'take to themselves wings and

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flee away.' "44 Raised in the relative poverty of Martha's Vineyard, May-hew had attended Harvard as a charity case, but by investing his WestChurch income in trade, he had accumulated an estate valued at eighthundred pounds by the time of his death in 1766. Certainly, May hewderived satisfaction from his financial improvement, but it is clear that heconsidered his position as a leading Boston minister to be more signifi-cant in terms of social status.45 It is therefore not surprising that in hisadvice to the young men of his congregation he recommended that theyseek the prestige of profession: "There are many honourable offices, inthe exercise of, or at least in the preparation for which, young men maybe worthily engaged." In particular, Mayhew recommended "Law,Physic, and Divinity," or "those three which are commonly called thelearned professions in the exercise of which, or in acquiring the needfulqualifications for them, young men may be laudably employed. "46 Ad-vancement, then, might come about by one's prospering in business, orby one's practicing an honorable profession.

Movement in the social system was not easily reconciled with ideasabout fixed rank. As Rossiter points out, for Quaker merchants in Phila-delphia, mobility engendered "that peculiar trait of our peculiar aristoc-racy: consisting entirely of the children and grandchildren of self-mademen, the upper class looked upon recently self-made men with a con-tempt that would have done credit to a Spanish grandee. "47

Frederick Tolles, also writing about Philadelphia Quakers, suggests inmore general terms the nature of the problem:

The hierarchical theory of society assumed that the class structurewas static, whereas, on the contrary, as we shall see, the society ofcolonial Philadelphia was highly fluid. It was not uncommon for aQuaker merchant, but one generation from the artisan or shop-keeper, to fancy himself. . . a gentleman.48

It was extremely difficult to reconcile a static social order with the ob-vious fact of fluidity in society. As Main suggests, "Colonial society wasat once equal and unequal." It was equal "in that the opportunity to risewas open to all except slaves," and unequal "because there were greateconomic differences - rich and poor, exploiters and exploited."49

Though inequalities of wealth were everywhere apparent, especially inthe urban areas, and though this buttressed the notion that class structurewas static, the obvious rise of persons into the "better sort" could nev-ertheless not be denied. Had royal blood been the basis of inclusion intothe better sort, as in England, accumulation of wealth by certain colo-nists would not have affected the notion that class structure was static.However, as wealth was so closely tied to status in America, to positionin society, accumulation of wealth brought with it mobility into the


upper class. Thus, in spite of colonial belief in a fixed ordering of classesin society, it could not be denied that there was movement, fluidity, aswell. This confusing mixture of ideas and events made clear statementsabout the nature of society extremely difficult for many Americans. Nomatter how much movement was visible between classes, colonists wereutterly unwilling to give up the notion that society was a static hierarchyof positions. Throughout the colonial period, reference to "superiors"and "inferiors" was a perfectly common and accepted way of describingsocial categories. As Main concludes, "The historian who tries to dis-cover the revolutionary American's ideas about class is confronted with aset of irreconcilable beliefs."50

In Boston in the mid eighteenth century, the problem of reconcilingbelief in social hierarchy with the fact of vertical mobility was especiallyacute. Boston of course had its gentry, established families with hugeproperty accumulations: Amorys, Boylstons, Faneuils, Hancocks,Hutchinsons, Olivers, Waldos, and others. But beyond the circle of thisentrenched aristocracy, Boston experienced a remarkable degree ofmovement in the social order.

In the decades leading up to the American Revolution, the economy ofthe city of Boston was characterized by what G. B. Warden calls "varia-ble instability": an economic profile characterized by frequent ups anddowns. Analyzing data drawn from tax, probate, market, and popula-tion research, Warden concludes that economic conditions were indeedfar from what one might expect to find in support of belief in a staticsocial order.

There is little of the continuity, permanence, and stability that oneusually associates with entrenched wealth, or with a Europeanizedpeasant society. Instead, the general picture appears to be one ofrapid turnover and sudden ups and downs on the ladder of wealth.Instead of being a petrified pyramid, the distribution of wealth inrecorded probate inventories at ten-year intervals resembled a frag-ile house of cards, falling and being reshuffled every generation. . .

The changes from decade to decade seriously challenge the no-tions that rich and poor were static, permanent categories or condi-tions in the communities.51

Though Warden may overstate his case for instability - available evi-dence suggests that a visible portion of the upper class survived theeconomic crises of the mid eighteenth century52 - it is clear that a succes-sion of socioeconomic catastrophes in Boston at mid century seriouslychallenged the notion of a fixed class structure. From 1720 to 1770 aseries of events alternately boosted and undermined the economy. Asmallpox epidemic in 1730, following one only nine years earlier, killed

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an eighth of the city's 16,000 inhabitants. Passage of the Molasses Act in1733 and the growth of ports such as Salem, Newburyport, and Mar-blehead combined to undermine the shipbuilding and distilling busi-nesses in Boston so thoroughly that by 1750 approximately 90 percent ofthe shipbuilding business and 66 percent of the distilling business werelost.53

King George's War, and especially the organization of the Louisburgexpedition, imposed a further burden on the townspeople of Boston.Heavy taxes were levied, prices were raised, loss of life left a thousandwidows in the city, and the provincial treasury was drained.54 The failureof the Land Bank in the early 1740s contributed further to the financialchaos. By the late 1740s inflation had become a serious problem. Thevalue of the local currency fell from 48 percent of sterling in 1720 to 8percent in 1750. Prices rose faster than laborers' wages, and the tradedeficit with England rose sharply.55

A few Bostonians had made money on wartime contracts during the1740s, but the effect on the overall economy of the city was negligible.The Seven Years' War (1754-61) brought broader and deeper positiveresults. War contracts, as well as the influx of money that came with thepresence of British troops, brought about a sharp upturn in the city'seconomy in the 1750s. Probate wealth doubled from the decade of theforties to the decade of the fifties, and the exchange rate, local currency tosterling, began to improve for the first time in thirty years.56

Instability returned to the city in 1760, however, in the form of a firethat destroyed 350 homes and shops and caused an estimated 53,000pounds' damage. The early 1760s were further plagued by another small-pox epidemic and a minor credit crisis. After 1765, a series of events,beginning with the Stamp Act crisis and continuing through the occupa-tion of the city of Boston by the British, likewise contributed towardfluidity in Boston society.57

The possibilities for vertical mobility in the colonies in general, plusthe peculiar circumstances of economic instability in Boston itself in themiddle of the eighteenth century, shaped a viewpoint toward socialstructure in that city that was essentially in conflict with the older notionof a static hierarchy. There was still ample evidence for a fixed classstructure in Boston at this time, but it was becoming increasingly morenecessary to account for both stasis and movement in society. For ar-rivistes, the problem was particularly urgent. Families with new moneyclaimed the status of the "better sort," of superiority to those still at-tempting to climb from the lower ranks, while conveniently overlookingthe fact of their own recent rise from "inferiority." But of course theycould not wholly reject their own past: For them America was a land ofupward mobility just as much as it was a society divided into better and


worse strata. Rossiter summarized the dichotomy as "the general accep-tance of the doctrine of class, a stultifying belief tempered considerablyby the equally accepted doctrine that the individual should rise or fall byhis own virtues and capacities."58

The problem of conceptualizing socioeconomic organization was,then, similar to the nature of the problems in religion and politicalthought, and contributed in a fundamental way to the sense of in-be-tweenness in American life. When Charles Chauncy and Jonathan May-hew wrote about religion and government, they were guided by theperception of dichotomies, of tension. Indeed, they may have felt thetension even more keenly than some of their contemporaries. As minis-ters, they were particularly cognizant of the troubles in colonial religion,and as political thinkers who had familiarized themselves with the ideasof English Whigs, they were aware of the conflicts of ideas in theoriesabout government. But equally important, because Chauncy and May-hew were the pastors of First Church and West Church, respectively,they were in a position to observe firsthand the processes that fueledconfusion about social organization.59

The churches in which each of these congregations gathered werethemselves impressive structures, situated on Boston streets alongsideother large and expensive buildings. The church in which CharlesChauncy was ordained, and in which he served for sixty years until hisdeath in 1787, was made of brick. It had been built in 1713 to replace itswooden predecessor which had been consumed by a fire "generally saidand concluded to be occasioned by one Mary Morse, being in drink."60

In Chauncy's lifetime, this new brick building in Cornhill Square wouldbecome known throughout Boston as Old Brick, and Chauncy himselfwould eventually end up sharing that name. A poem about the Bostonclergy of 1770, composed by John Fenno, keeper of the granary, madethe common reference to Chauncy: "And Charles Old Brick, if well orsick / will cry for liberty."61

According to the Burgis map of 1728, First Church stood at the headof King Street, facing east.62 Persons exiting the ordination of Chauncy,upon walking down the front steps of the church, would find themselvesin the center of Boston, amidst elegant buildings. The Town Houseacross the street housed the town and provincial governments, thecourts, and the merchants' exchange. Behind the Town House, KingStreet ran east past Merchants Row, past the old and famous Bunch-of-Grapes tavern, and out onto the Long Wharf, crowded with warehousesand docks.63 The Antiguan sea captain James Birket described the neigh-borhood in 1750:

From the State house Soward fine Open Capacious Streight Streetsfrom the Gover House to the Stateho is one of the finest I saw in

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America called Cornhill. Also King street which Extends from theStatehouse to the head of the Long wharf is A curious fine OpenGenteel Street At the uper end of which, Near the end of theStatehouse (which the walk in, in Bad weather) ther Merchantsmeet every day about Eleven o'Clock & Continue until near Onebefore the retir to dinner: Amongst whom you will find very goodentertainment, And their houses furnished in an Elegant mannertheir dress very genteel & In my Opinion both men and Women aretoo Expensive in that respect.64

First Church, with its clock that chimed the hours, thus stood in theheart of the governmental and commercial center of the city, and itscongregation included a share of the officers and merchants who livedand worked around it.

In January 1737, ten years after Chauncy's installation at First Church,seventeen persons, from six worshiping bodies, elected William Hooperto the pastoral office of the West Church and voted him a weekly salaryof eight pounds, larger than that of any other congregational minister intown.65 The construction of the church building itself, where Mayhewwould preach from 1744 to 1766, was already under way at the urgingsof merchants Harrison Gray and Hugh Hall, and was completed inMay.66 Dr. Alexander Hamilton described the building as follows:

This meeting house is a handsome, new, wooden building with ahuge spire or steeple att the north end of it. The pulpit is large andneat with a large sounding board supported att each side withpilasters of the Dorick order, fluted, and behind it there is a higharched door over which hangs a green curtain. The pulpit cushionis of green velvet, and all the windows in the meeting are mountedwith green curtains.67

Hamilton also noted that "we heard a very good discourse and saw agenteel congregation. The ladys were most of them in high dress."68

West Church was located on the northeast corner of Cambridge andLynde streets in the West End. In the Bonner map of 1722, West End islittle more than fields and ropewalks, but in the next twenty years thispart of town was laid out in streets and "large and substantial residences"were built, along with public gardens and a bathhouse.69 Akers thinksthat the neighborhood of West Church became a haven after 1720 forpersons with the financial means to leave the North End. In any event,West Church had its share of distinguished members. Indeed, during the1887 commemorative services at West Church, George E. Ellis, presi-dent of the Massachusetts Historical Society, declared that the congrega-tion of Jonathan Mayhew's West Church "was second to none in thecharacters and distinctions of its members."70


Charles Akers agrees with Ellis that "West Church was known as asociety of prosperous and enterprising persons," and adds that the con-gregation was composed of "ambitious and often self-made men."71

Indeed, both First Church and West Church included a large number ofpersons of high status. The congregations of these two churches wereunusually rich,72 and some of the members -John Gill, Richard Salter,John Salter, and Samuel Doggett, among others - had moved upwardthrough the social order into the top level of society in the space oftwenty or thirty years.73 Many others were on the brink of real wealth,ready to move. It is likely that confusion over how society was struc-tured, how mobility was related to status in society, thus was particular-ly keen in the congregations that Chauncy and Mayhew pastored, andexercised an important influence on the thinking of the two men. Just asearly-twentieth-century Social Gospel exponent Walter Rauschenbuschpointed to his eleven-year ministry to a congregation in New York Cityas crucial to the development of his ideas about religion and society, soalso ought we to consider the characteristics of the congregations of FirstChurch and West Church to be a key formative context for the thoughtof Chauncy and Mayhew.74

There are, then, concentric circles of background against which thesocial theories of Chauncy and Mayhew must be appraised. In three keycontexts that shaped the thought of these men, the tradition of deferenceand the appearance of clearly distinguished social ranks came up againstthe fact of economic advancement. These three concentric contexts are:(i) colonial socioeconomic life as a whole; (2) the economic situation ofBoston in the mid eighteenth century; (3) the social profile of the con-gregations of First Church and West Church. To these, of course, oughtto be added the relevant portions of the personal background of the twomen, such as the fact of Mayhew's own economic advancement andChauncy's distinguished New England lineage (which included the sec-ond president of Harvard College).75 All of these social contexts pro-vided Chauncy and Mayhew with impressions that helped to shape theirideas. In organizing those impressions into coherent statements about theworkings of society, however, the two men adopted a popular constructof European thought, the concept of the Great Chain of Being.

According to this theory a hierarchy of life forms existed in the uni-verse. Millions upon millions of species, though clearly distinct fromeach other, and just as clearly ranked in relation to each other, werenevertheless connected in a single, unbroken chain of being. There was aclear distinction of species, one from another, the highest from thelowest, but there was just as clearly a connection of each species withevery other, in a chain without "void" or "chasm" that linked the highestexistences with the lowest. The universe was thus understood to be

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divided into levels of being with permanently fixed boundaries, but wasunderstood as well to demonstrate a perfect unity, a perfect wholeness,because each level was still somehow able to bond with those above andbelow it. In this way, the notion of the great chain of being suggestedhow unity and diversity coexisted as principles of the cosmic order.76

As Arthur Lovejoy has pointed out, Bolingbroke - whose ideas aboutgovernment and society were known in America - was, with Leibnizand Pope, in the forefront of thinkers who believed in the notion of theGreat Chain of Being.77 The influence of this theory is unmistakable inthe thinking of Chauncy and Mayhew. Writing about the capacity forhappiness, the favorite eighteenth-century measurement of cosmic place,Mayhew declared: "Of those creatures that are capable of enjoyment orpleasure, some are doubtless capable of it in far higher degrees than oth-ers."78 Similarly, but more enthusiastically, Chauncy proposed the vi-sion of "beings gradually rising, in the scale of existence, to an inconceiv-able height in their capacities for the enjoyment of happiness."79

Chauncy elaborated:

There are other systems of beings to whom God has made man-ifestations of his goodness. If we may depend upon the bible, as asacred book, there are certainly other beings, capable of happiness,and in actual possession of it, besides those which dwell on thisearth. Nay, more than this, their capacities for happiness are muchlarger.80

Common sense reinforced the scriptural argument for the existence ofother inhabited worlds: "There are so many globes visible to our sight,equally capable, with this globe we live upon, of containing inhabitants,furnished with sentiments of happiness, and means of obtaining it, that itis, without all doubt, the truth of fact, that they are filled with suchinhabitants."81

Comments such as these were grounded, for both men, in a clear senseof a hierarchically ordered cosmos, one in which, as Mayhew wrote,there were "men of high degree, and of low . . . angelical hosts andhierarchy."82 Each species had its place, and, as Chauncy explained, eachexperienced a level of happiness consistent with that place, so that "somuch happiness is alotted to them, as is proper to creatures in their state,and filling up such a place in the scale of beings."83

Full comprehension of the highest levels of being, according to May-hew, was beyond human capacity. God loves such beings, but humansshould not expect to do the same: "The reason why we are not com-manded to extend our love to the angels, and all the glorious inhabitantsof the other world, is not because they are a different order of beings; butbecause they are out of reach of our abilities."84 Chauncy reasoned that

ioo THE HIDDEN BALANCE

this world beyond human capacities was itself divided into various lev-els, or "orders": "As, among the inhabitants of the upper world thereseems to be a difference of order as well as species; which the scriptureintimates, by speaking of them in the various stile of thrones, dominions,principalities, powers, archangels, and angels."85 The world below hu-manity was likewise divided into fish, fowl, insects, and "other animalsso low in the descending scale of subordination. "86

The place of humanity, then, as Mayhew pointed out, was somewherein the scale of beings between angels and insects:

Now if we consider ourselves as MEN, we are a distinguished orderof creatures, and under great obligations to our Creator. Howeverinferior we may be to many creatures in other parts of the universe;(inferior indeed!) yet there is no presumption, no vanity in saying,that we are much superior to any of the other inhabitants of thisworld.87

Chauncy once referred to "we men, the highest order of beings in thislower world," but, like Mayhew, Chauncy believed that humans in factstraddled the line between the upper world and the lower world.88 Thepeculiarity of human existence was its character as part animal and partrational: "What I speak of as thus peculiar, and worthy of notice, is ourcompound make; in consequence of which we are partly animal, and partlyrational, being allied to the highest, and lowest orders of beings in theuniverse."89 Humans thus could sense something of the upper world butcould not fully comprehend it. They had a partial membership in thelower world, but were yet superior to it.

Like other species, the human species was a distinct order of creation,but that distinction was so infinitely small that it was almost unrecogniz-able. In the language of the day, there was no "chasm" between thehuman level and the next higher or lower level. Homo sapiens was one ofmillions of species each of which differed minutely from those above andbelow it, and this variety, this unfathomable diversity, was, arguedChauncy, the very reason why creation formed a well-adjusted, con-nected whole: "The creation is filled up, by that admirable nice and curi-ous variety in the classes of creatures, whereby they are fitted to beproper links in the chain of existence; all concurring as so many well-adjusted parts, to constitute one whole without void or chasm."90 Accord-ing to Chauncy, the various species in the universe "are so many welladjusted parts in the chain of existence: And perhaps this system could, inno other way, have been constituted so full and coherent a whole. "91 Dif-ferences of endowed capacities among species ensured that no level in thechain of being was left empty. Creatures "are variously endowed withcapacities, some superior, others inferior; Nor could they otherwise havebeen fitted to fill the place assigned to them in the chain of being."92

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The same reasoning that posited a chasmless chain of beings in creationsuggested that gradations were to be found even within species. Therewas little theological discussion of differences in the endowed capacitiesof horses, or of beetles, but there was considerable attention given to thedifferences among humans. Chauncy stated this aspect of the theory asfollows:

Possibly, the gradations in beings, by means of which all the spacesare filled up, could not have been so accurately compleat, unlessthere had been a difference between the individuals in each species aswell as between the species themselves. Some disparity betweenmen compared with one another, and the creatures in every otherclass considered, in the like comparative view, might be necessaryto link together the several species, so as to make one coherent chain,without any void or chasm.93

The plain sense of such an arrangement was clear to Mayhew, whoasked: "Why not the lowest individual of the lowest species, was notmade the highest of the highest; and vice-versa, the highest not thelowest?" The answer was so obvious, declared Mayhew, that the ques-tion itself was absurd: "All such queries, I say, carry their own futilityand self-repugnance in their very face. They imply a plain contradiction,as much as it would be to ask, Why Noah's dove was not originally madethe ocean, the moon or a comet?"94

For Chauncy, men were variously endowed in their capacities by theCreator, and were thus an aspect of the order of creation: "If ourcapacities had been precisely the same, that subordination in the humanspecies, those superiorities and inferiorities, could not have taken place."95

Mayhew simply stated: "For it amounts to no more than this, that somemen are superior to others."96

If they had been spoken before the late seventeenth century, suchstatements by Chauncy and Mayhew could have stood without furtherqualification as expressions of the hierarchical order explicit in the con-cept of a chain of being. But in the decades after about 1670, Enlighten-ment thinkers had begun reinterpreting the idea of the Great Chain ofBeing to allow for some measure of movement among the various ordersof being. As the notion of perfectibility of nature gained popularity, andas scientists began seriously to consider the process of evolution in biolo-gy, some philosophes endeavored to soften the rigid, static design of thechain of being. These attempts took two forms. First, the notion of"seeds" was introduced to account for advancement up the scale of crea-tures. It was argued that living things had been created in immatureform, and that in development over time, they would reach their fullpotential. Second, and closely allied to this idea, was the belief that


individual souls migrated through a succession of organic bodies on theirway to perfection.

Both ideas were popularized by Leibniz, who wrote: "Every birth ofan animal is only a transformation of an animal already alive. "97 Just asworms become flies and caterpillars become butterflies, so also do hu-man souls "advance and ripen continually, like the world itself, of whichthey are but images." These souls began in seeds and moved in time fromone body to another: "I should suppose that souls which will some daybecome human have, like those of other species, been in seeds, and in theancestors, up to Adam, and have consequently existed since the begin-ning of things, always in a sort of organized body."98

This growing interest in advancement through the chain of being,what Arthur O. Lovejoy called the "temporalizing of the chain ofbeing," was extremely difficult to reconcile with the older notion of asystem of clearly fixed ranks.99 The notions of "seeds" and of the trans-migration of souls provided, for a limited time, a way of combiningstasis with mobility in the chain of being. The idea of transmigration,especially, was appealing because it challenged the theory of the chain ofbeing at its weakest point: the doctrine of infinitely minute differencesbetween species, a concept essentially beyond comprehension. In theory,a clear line existed between species. In practice, such a line could never bedrawn. It was imagined that disembodied souls passed from one speciesto another, through boundaries that were themselves incomprehensible,and thereby arrived at a new level of maturity. Filled with metaphors,this idea of the chain of being became itself in the eighteenth century ametaphor for the dialectical relationship of stasis and movement in thecosmos.

Mayhew and Chauncy accepted the notion of movement in the GreatChain of Being. Mayhew defended the idea of the transmigration ofsouls by pointing out that lower creatures, or "brutes," may not "enjoy ashare of pleasure superior to their pains," but that such a sorry conditionmay not actually be "an end of all."100 Mayhew claimed that "everyliving, sensitive creature is endowed with some principle distinct frommatter; call it soul, spirit, or what you please, it is of no consequence."This principle "may survive the body, be continued after the dissolutionof the present organs of sensation, and live in another body." Mayhewpointed out that, indeed, there was nothing irrational in such an idea,and, in fact, "the transformations, or transmigrations that are actuallyobserved in some living creatures, render it credible in itself, and, in adegree, probable."101

Chauncy, emphasizing the extremely close connection of one level ofknowledge to another, argued that intelligence itself was progressive innature:

SOCIETY 103

One degree of knowledge is so connected with another, and sonaturally prepares the way for it, as that it may be an impossibility,but that every created mind should be capable of attaining still higherdegrees of it. So that if we were at all made capable of intelligence,it should seem as though, it must have been, in general, in the wayof progression.102

Progression was part of the divine plan, wrote Chauncy, adding thatGod, "whose bounty daily supports millions of men, and numberlessmillions of inferior creatures, has supported them through thousands ofpast successions in life."103

The social theory of Chauncy and Mayhew should be seen as an ex-pression or an application of the principles of cosmic order that werearticulated in the theory of the Great Chain of Being. Parts of that theorycorresponded structurally to the social experience of the two men in theseveral key contexts of their lives. Drawn by their social experience tocertain aspects of the theory - the emphases upon wholeness, uponbalance, and upon mobility alongside stasis - Chauncy and Mayhewused those principles to organize their ideas and to fashion statementsabout the workings of society. Edmund Morgan has written that inAmerica in the eighteenth century "the most subtle transformation tookplace in social theory."104 The theories of Chauncy and Mayhew werepart of this subtle transformation, this rethinking of the relation of the"parts" of society to the "whole."

An example of such a rethinking is found in Chauncy's and Mayhew'streatment of the metaphor of the social "body." The traditional meta-phor for describing the social body was drawn from 1 Corinthians 12, inwhich the parts of the social body are likened to the parts of the physicalbody. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, this metaphor was usedby Puritan writers to illustrate the necessity for distinctions of status insociety: The superior element was generally placed at the "head."William Perkins explained that "the whole bodie is not the hand, nor thefoote, nor the eye, but the hand one part, the foot another, and the eyeanother; and howsoever in the bodie one part is linked to another, yetthere is a distinction betweixt the members." Perkins thus reasoned that"in every society one person should bee above or under another; notmaking all equall, as though the bodie should be all head and nothingelse; but even in degree and order, hee [God] hath set a distinction, thatone should be above another."105

Similarly, William Hubbard, a colonial minister and political moderateof the seventeenth century, who, according to Perry Miller, "held forththe fundamental Puritan conception of social cohesion articulated in ahierarchy of classes,"106 offered the following analysis:


Nothing therefore can be imagined more remote either from rightreason or true religion than to think that, because we were all onceequal at our birth, and shall be again at our death, therefor weshould be so in the whole course of our lives. In fine, a body wouldnot be more monstrous and deformed without a head, nor a shipmore dangerous at sea without a pilot, nor a flock of sheep moreready to be devoured without a shepherd, than would human so-ciety be without a head.107

In the hands of Chauncy and Mayhew, this metaphor was subtlychanged. Language that emphasized subordination of certain parts forthe good of the whole gave way to language that emphasized that thegood of each individual part was as important as the good of the whole.Mayhew treated the matter in Two Sermons on the Nature, Extent andPerfection of Divine Goodness:

He that constituted the members in the natural body, and assignedthem their respective offices as pleased him; He that appointed thefoot to tread in the dust, and to bear the load of the body; He thatmade the least comely parts and members, to answer valuable ends,and to participate in the happiness of the body; while He made theear to hear, the eye to see, and the head to direct and govern thewhole, has put an honor upon them all in their respective places.And neither of them can say to another "I have no need of you."Thus it is also in the church, and in the greater society ofmankind.108

Such language, particularly in the context of the sermon as a whole,represents an attempt to modify the clear emphasis on "distinction" pres-ent in the treatment of the metaphor by previous generations of Puritanwriters. An emphasis on the equality of each "part" is recognizablethroughout the text. Mayhew began by arguing that God's order did notrequire that the happiness of a single part be unfairly sacrificed for thegood of the whole. First, he pointed out that God would not create aspecies in the Great Chain of Being and then neglect it:

If there are any other planets or worlds inhabited, we may becertain that God takes a similar care of the various orders of crea-tures in them. . . . It were highly irrational to suppose, that he hasmade any one species of creatures . . . and then neglected it asbelow his providential care.109

Elaborating, Mayhew stressed that individual creatures within a speciescould not be neglected. He argued that the good of the individual and thegood of the species "must needs go together." In so doing, he explicitly,

SOCIETY 105

and by name, rejected what he saw as Bolingbroke's hierarchical cosmol-ogy in which some individuals were duty bound to accept their unhappystation and circumstances.110 Mayhew wrote:

It is not very easy to conceive how an whole, or a species can bekindly provided for by the God of all, as some have supposed[footnote to Bolingbroke] and yet the parts, the individual, beneglected by him. Is God the maker of the species only, not of theindividuals? That were a very mysterious condition, a curious dis-covery to match the other! Indeed, they must needs go together.For if God is supposed to be the maker of individuals, it follows asundeniably from hence, that he will take care of individuals, as itdoes from his creating the species, that he take care of the species.The reasoning that will hold with respect to one, will hold equallywith respect to the other; if it fails in one, it will fail in the otheralso.111

It was inevitable that persons form into groups in society, and May-hew admitted that "everyone ought to be principally concerned for thewelfare of those to whom he is most nearly allied." But, he added, "aman's belonging to a particular family does not destroy his relation to thewhole commonwealth of which he is a member."112 A person mightbelong to the head, or to the feet, or to the eyes or ears of the body, butsuch a person also was simply a part of the social body in general, andthus equal to each of the other parts.

For Mayhew, acknowledgment of the equality of individuals did notreplace the importance of distinction in society. The body still had a headto "govern" the rest, even if all places were "honourable" and, whenconsidered as units making up a whole, actually equal. At times Mayhewemphasized the importance of preserving society as a system of fixedstatus distinctions. At other times he suggested that individual improve-ment - the self-cultivation of one's spiritual and social potential113 - wasa fundamental Christian duty. Mayhew assumed that society, like thecosmos, was a coherent whole, and that within that whole, seeminglyopposite tendencies were reconciled. Just as movement and stasis wereprinciples equally important to the chain of being, so both personaladvancement and static hierarchy were necessary for a healthy society.Equality and inequality, mobility and stasis, the elements in each of thesepairs were dialectically related within "one stupendous whole."114

Though not as explicit as Mayhew in emphasizing the honorability ofeach and every part of the social body, Chauncy nevertheless presentedthe body metaphor in such a way as to temper the idea of stratificationwith images of mutual need and even the possibility of advancement. InGifts of the Spirit he pointed out that there were "various members of the


body; all of which have their use, and are necessary in their place: andtho' some are more excellent, and serve a much better use than others;yet all are serviceable; in so much, that no one can complain of the other,and say / have no need ofthee."115 But Chauncy balanced this statement ofvaried "excellence" in the body with the qualification that "those that areweak may yet, in their place, be as useful as those that are strong."116

Moreover, he encouraged persons to look to their own improvement, aswell as to the duties of their rank: "The industrious improvement of ourgifts, be they great or small, few or many, is required of us."117 Suchremarks did not change the body metaphor into an expression of generalequality, but added to it something new, the possibility of improvement.Society considered as a system could not be described simply as a hier-archy of ranks.

In The Benevolence of the Deity Chauncy offered a more abstract analy-sis of the matter of the relation of parts to the whole that clarified histreatment of the issue via metaphor in Gifts of the Spirit. This analysis wassimilar to Mayhew's own attempt at abstract philosophizing in DivineGoodness and argued the same ideas. Chauncy claimed that beings, asparts of a whole, were essentially undifferentiated. He stated that "theseveral beings, in any particular system, are the parts constituting that aparticular whole."118 Next, he claimed that God, in governing the world,does not group beings into "kinds" (even though, paradoxically, various"kinds" exist), nor does he consider them even as distinct individuals.Rather, each being is simply a "part." The deity governs "all the variouskinds of beings, on this earth, and all the individuals in each of thesekinds, with a relative view. He considers them not as simply so manykinds of beings, much less as so many single individuals but as parts con-stituting such a particular system in the universe."119 As undifferentiatedparts of a system, each being thus benefits equally from divine care: "Nomore good is to be expected from him, with respect to any species ofbeings, or any individuals in these species, than is reasonably consistentwith the good of the whole system, of which they are parts."120

For Chauncy and Mayhew, the activity of the parts resulted in a com-mon direction for the whole. Regardless of how one advanced in socialstatus, it was believed that by advancing oneself, one benefited society asa whole. The practice of virtue and the accumulation of wealth by indi-viduals contributed directly to the public good. The law of labor, wroteChauncy,

is founded on the publick Good. For there cannot be a flourishingPeople without Labour. It is by Improvement in Arts and Trade,that they must grow in Wealth, and Power and become possessedof the various Emoluments tending to the Benefit and Pleasure of

SOCIETY 107

Life; and these Arts take their Rise from, and are carried on by, theIndustry of particular Persons.121

The law of labor "is admirably adapted to promote private as well aspublic Good. For industrious Labour is the way for Individuals, as well asCommunities, to thrive and flourish."122 Work was the duty of individu-als, and of societies. It was "connected, in the Nature of Things, with theGood of Mankind, considered both individually, and as coalescing inSociety."123 Just as individuals have risen to power and wealth by theirindustry, so also "some Nations have increased in Riches, Grandeur, andPower, by being industrious, tho' great Obstacles and discouraging Dif-ficulties have stood in the Way."124 In short, advancement through di-ligent labor was a principle that benefited the individual and, in so doing,benefited society. As Mayhew wrote, persons should strive to learn aprofession that would "at once" bring "honor to yourselves, and benefitto society."125

The social theories of Charles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew, like theirreligious ideas and their reflections upon government, were organizedaccording to the principle of dialectic, or balance. Society was under-stood to be a complex but coherent organism, an exemplification of thedivine wisdom that had given order to the vast cosmos in a Great Chainof Being. Indeed, for Chauncy and Mayhew, society, religion, and gov-ernment were three overlapping areas, all of which shared the structuralfeatures upon which the cosmos was thought to be ordered.

Conclusion: the hidden balance

Charles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew believed that society, like theuniverse, was a coherent whole. Just as the oftentimes hidden hand ofGod arranged and connected things on a cosmic scale, so also did human-ity arrange itself into a workable social order, under the influence of animpulse to unite that was itself fundamental and irreducible and, indeed,somewhat mysterious. The social theories of Chauncy and Mayhewwere characterized by faith in cohesion, in the union of individuals in thesocial body. As Chauncy wrote, such union was a cosmic principleapplicable to all species: "There is a certain bond of union establishedbetween the individuals of every species."1 Mayhew illustrated the mattermore simply: "Men have a natural propensity towards society. Theylove to combine and unite as much as Beer."2

God's creation was a coherent whole, but that did not mean that death,disease and natural catastrophe could not occur. Similarly, the existencein persons of an impulse to unite did not ensure that society wouldfunction smoothly at all times. Chauncy and Mayhew understood thatsocial relations were a complicated and delicate matter, and warned thatthe slightest disturbance in the social order, if left unattended, couldbring tragic consequences. Society was, as Samuel Davies suggested,3 afine-tuned instrument, and if the tension between its parts was upset ineven the smallest measure, the resulting imbalance could quickly tipsociety into an extreme condition. Though persons had a "natural pro-pensity" toward union, it was still important that they keep a carefulwatch on the shape such union took. By following the "middle way"they could avoid the harmful extremes that uncritical uniting mightproduce.

Chauncy and Mayhew were not, of course, the first persons to recog-nize the need for balance in society, or in religious or political matters. It

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CONCLUSION 109

is clear that balance was a key concept in the political theories of Har-rington and of almost all the English political writers who came afterhim. Likewise, the seventeenth-century Puritan vision of society in-cluded an emphasis on the necessity for balance between the individualand the collective. Chauncy and Mayhew stood on the shoulders of theirpredecessors. Their contribution was to interpret and apply the principleof balance in such a way as to make sense of the great changes occurringin the colonies.

In writing about creation as a whole, Chauncy and Mayhew repeat-edly pointed to the "hidden" connections of things in creation, to in-stances where seemingly opposite purposes were actually one. In theirwritings that treated specifically religious doctrines, both men reliedheavily upon an explanation that stressed dialectics. Whether they werewriting about faith and works, good and evil, the affections and reason,or other critical issues, Chauncy and Mayhew consistently summarizedtheir ideas with a reference to the way in which very different elements"mutually confirmed" each other.

In their political and social writings the case is the same. The directionof their thinking was always to emphasize the necessity for bothdeference and resistance, equality and inequality. Goodness and justicewere mutually constitutive in the ruler, and God's laws by "paradox"coincided perfectly with civil laws. Mobility was as important an aspectof social life as was the preservation of fixed social ranks. Individualsacted as social creatures with a mixture of self-love and benevolence.Social life in all of its aspects was characterized, in essence, by a dialecticalprocess in which seeming opposites were understood to be coincident ormutually constitutive. Just as the cosmic order in the Great Chain ofBeing was a dialectic between stasis and mobility, so was society a dialec-tic between personal advancement and permanent social boundaries.

Implicit in the thought of Chauncy and Mayhew is the assumptionthat understanding was possible only through imagination - imaginationguided by reason, but imagination nonetheless. Both men constantlystressed the mystery and wonder of creation, and claimed that the cos-mos was structured with opposites that balanced in a "hidden" way so asto produce wholeness. Though they are called rationalists, and have beenpictured as having lost the "heart" of Puritanism, Chauncy and Mayhewwere, in fact, men of deep religious sensibilities.4 They did not provideto their congregations a simple rule of thumb for ordering one's sociallife, nor, much less, did they consciously seek to arm the elite with acertain understanding of society that could be used to keep the lowerranks in check.5 They did not believe that reason alone would uncoverthe root of social disharmony. They did not suggest that the cosmoswould open all of its secrets to the key of science. Rather, Chauncy and

no THE HIDDEN BALANCE

Mayhew directed the attention of their congregations to the ways inwhich seemingly contradictory principles actually cooperated, in a dia-lectical process, to reveal the oneness of creation. Society was a dialecticof high and low, equality and inequality, and in that dialectic was the"hidden" meaning of society. Just as a public officeholder had to "intuit"(as Mayhew wrote) the way through a range of political issues, so alsodid each individual have to intuit his or her way through social life.

Such an understanding of society was partly a product of the fact thatChauncy and Mayhew framed their ideas in a period of tremendouschange, the transitional period between the Awakening and the Revolu-tion. Confronted with sudden changes in religion, politics and the socialorder, Chauncy and Mayhew attempted to join old ideas to new ideas,and to do so in such a way as to preserve the integrity of each. ButChauncy and Mayhew were not simply two men caught in a period oftransition. They were Congregationalist ministers, religious leaders inBoston, with the responsibility to explain to their congregations certainpoints of religious doctrine and to apply those explanations to the every-day world of the eighteenth century. Their faith in the wholeness of theuniverse, in the purpose and direction of creation, played a major role inthe construction of their social theories. Their sensitivity to the impor-tance of wholeness and balance in points of religious doctrine, togetherwith their observation of the political and economic changes in Boston,led to a social vision characterized by an appreciation for meaning emerg-ing out of dialectic. Like the cosmic order in the Great Chain of Being,society could be intuited, but never fully explained.6

The significance of the thought of Chauncy and Mayhew has not beenfully appreciated by historians, who, for the most part, have understoodsuch significance to lie essentially in the roles played by Chauncy andMayhew in the shaping of "rational religion" in America or in the contri-butions made by the two men to the rhetoric of the American Revolu-tion. This is not to say that scholars have missed the point completelywith regard to Chauncy and Mayhew. Indeed, Chauncy and Mayhewdid exert a profound influence upon the direction of New England theol-ogy - and some theology outside of New England — and they wereresponsible for some of the strongest admonitions against English influ-ence in American religious and civil affairs.7 Chauncy's published re-sponses to Jonathan Edwards and the Great Awakening brought himcorrespondence with ministers throughout the colonies eventually num-bering in the hundreds of letters. He maintained these contacts after theAwakening through meetings with ministers in his travels at least as farsouth as North Carolina.8 Mayhew's provocative Discourse ConcerningUnlimited Submission, which was singled out for praise by John Adams ina letter to Thomas Jefferson, was read throughout the colonies. Mayhew

CONCLUSION in

himself was singled out by William Smith, provost of the College ofPhiladelphia, as a leader of the antiepiscopacy campaign in America. 9

The writings of Chauncy and Mayhew were known in England partlyas a result of the efforts made there by Thomas Hollis on Mayhew'sbehalf, and through the support given to Chauncy by Richard Price ofthe Royal Society.10 Mayhew's Seven Sermons, reprinted in London in1750 (a year after the appearance of the work in America), gained for theauthor immediate recognition and the Aberdeen D.D. The Discourse wassent to England that same year, and the responses it elicited confirmedMayhew's reputation as a controversial thinker. The English editorRichard Baron included the sermon in his The Pillars of Priestcraft andOrthodoxy Shaken, an anticlerical work published in 1752; and nearlyforty years later, as news of the French Revolution made its way toLondon, the Gentleman's Magazine reprinted parts of the Discourse as acomment on political tyranny. Mayhew's A Defence of the Observations -an impassioned warning about Anglican plans to subvert the religiousorder of New England and, indeed, of the colonies as a whole - broughta response from none other than the Archbishop of Canterbury, ThomasSeeker, who published his Answer in 1764.11 But even Seeker was forcedto make concessions to American opponents of episcopacy. IsraelMaudit, brother of the English Dissenter Jasper Maudit, wrote Mayhewthat the Observations had in fact forced Seeker to postpone plans to sendmore missionaries to the settled parts of New England.12

Charles Chauncy's reputation in England was sufficient to garner himthe Edinburgh D.D. His own objections to episcopacy, as well as his rolein organizing with Mayhew a missionary society through which tochallenge Anglican efforts in America, brought him, like Mayhew, tothe attention of Seeker.13 Chauncy's delivery of the Dudleian lecture of1762, entitled The Validity of Presbyterian Ordination, provided an occa-sion for Henry Caner of King's Chapel in Boston to write urgently toSeeker warning the archbishop of the trouble brewing in the coloniesover the episcopacy issue, and of Chauncy's key role in fomenting it. Itwas not Seeker, however, but Thomas Bradbury Chandler, rector of St.John's Church in Elizabethtown, New Jersey, who penned the Anglicanresponse to Chauncy. Chandler's Appeal to the Public (1767) onlyprovoked Chauncy further, resulting in The Appeal to the Public An-swered, Chauncy's warning that the presence of bishops in Americawould lead to taxes for their support and the consequent gradual erosionof civil liberties.14

In addition to noting in general the far-ranging influence of Chauncyand Mayhew upon Anglo-American thinking about religious and politi-cal matters, historians have specifically identified the ideas of Chauncyand Mayhew as fundamental to the rise of Unitarianism. This story has

H2 THE HIDDEN BALANCE

been ably told by George Willis Cooke, Conrad Wright, and others, andneed not be reviewed here. I only wish to point out, however, that ifHenry May is correct in his estimation that Boston Unitarianism was"the most intact survival of the Moderate Enlightenment" in America inthe nineteenth century, then it is appropriate that we recognize Chauncyand Mayhew as key figures of the Moderate Enlightenment.15

In light of the argument I have made for the coherence of Chauncy'sand Mayhew's ideas about religion, government and society, there isanother, perhaps more fundamental, set of reasons than those givenabove for why we ought to pay particular attention to Chauncy andMayhew if we wish to understand eighteenth-century Americanthought. Put simply, the ideas of Chauncy and Mayhew were attractiveto Americans because, taken together, they constituted a symbolic mapof an interconnected cosmic and social order, or, as anthropologistClifford Geertz might put it, an ideology, a pattern of symbols that isexpressive of social reality and that becomes particularly important intime of dramatic social and religious change.16

To view Chauncy and Mayhew in this way, as cartographers of sorts,is to depart from the mainstream of scholarly study of these two men, toput on a different pair of spectacles through which to see them. For themost part, historians concerned with American intellectual life in the mideighteenth century have concentrated upon either the development ofpolitical theory or upon the theological reformulations that took placeamong the New England clergy.17 Religion and politics are not separate,but are very closely intertwined components of the human search fororder. We should not assume that changes in ideas about government aremerely reflections of shifts in thinking about cosmic order, nor shouldwe assume that changes in theological perspective follow directly fromreworkings of political and social theory. We ought rather to understandthat ideas about government, society, and religion develop together un-der a broad conceptual umbrella, generally in connection with the chang-ing circumstances of everyday life, and always with a view toward whatis useful, and worth conserving, about previous symbolic systems.

Chauncy and Mayhew, then, are extremely important to our under-standing of developing American ideology in the eighteenth centurybecause they produced a large quantity of writings focused not just uponreligion but upon society and government as well. Their work affords usone of the very few examples among eighteenth-century American writ-ers of the attempt to integrate ideas in all of these areas into a coherentideology, a symbolic map of reality. In their theories we can glimpse abroad search for order and for meaning that is not apparent in the literaryremains of most other eighteenth-century theologians or, with a fewexceptions, in the writings of those considered to be the political fathers

CONCLUSION 113

of the nation. The idea of balance, of course, was central to late-eigh-teenth-century discussions of political order, and it was particularly pop-ular among New England Federalists. In the writings of Chauncy andMayhew we can see that balance, though sometimes hidden, was funda-mental to cosmic order itself.18

Appendix

Status of members of First Church andWest Church

I have included this sketch of the status of members of First Church andWest Church because I think that it is useful background to understand-ing the social world of Chauncy and Mayhew. In the records of FirstChurch and West Church there survive no membership rolls, no lists ofnames of all the church members for a particular year. The informationavailable consists of records of baptisms, marriages, new admittances,and bequests and limited financial reports. Lists of the names of membersmust be pieced together from what can be gleaned from these records.The problem is complicated by the fact that there are no lists of depar-tures (not dismissals) to go along with the records of new admittances.1Persons left one congregation for another fairly regularly, but there is noway of knowing exactly when such a transfer occurred, unless the nameof a member turns up in the records of another church. Sometimespersons left the city altogether. Sometimes they only wanted to be mar-ried or to baptize their children. In short, though there are many namesin the records, not all of them can be considered regular churchgoers,much less members.

Ezra Stiles has made construction of the membership rolls a littleeasier. In a letter to Andrew Eliot in 1766, he remarked that FirstChurch, with its one hundred and fifty families, ranked fourth amongBoston churches in size of membership. It followed Old South, BrattleStreet, and New North.2 If Stiles was accurate in his estimate, WestChurch could have had at that time one hundred and fifty members atmost, and probably had fewer.3

Because of the date of Stiles's letter, I have attempted to compose amembership roll for each church for the year 1765, and in doing so I haveobserved the following procedures. I have first of all checked the recordsfor the names of persons who belonged to various church committees

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APPENDIX 115

Table 1. Membership list for First Church

Samuel PembertonJohn CunninghamTuttle HubbardJohn LeverettThomas WaldoJoseph GreenJohn SalterSamuel HillJoseph RusselRobert RandSamuel RidgewayJosiah QuincyCornelius ThayerJohn RogersJonathan CarySamuel DoggettSamuel HolbrookJohn Hunt IIIEdward PowersConstant FreemanJames ThwingNathaniel ThwingRichard SalterTurrel ThayerEdward JacksonBenjamin GrayNathaniel ThayerJohn JoyBenjamin RusselJoseph WebbRuth ParrotJoseph LeeNathaniel BalstonJeremiah GreenJonathan Williams

William Blair TownsendSamuel AustinBartholomew RandThomas LeverettShrimpton HuntJohn GrayJoseph ManEbenezer LowellAndrew CunninghamSamuel Ridgeway, Jr.Benjamin AustinThomas WaitJoab HuntThomas RandJacob WilliamsEbenezer SwanJob WheelwrightWilliam GrayBenjamin HomerIsrael LoringJeremiah RussellDaniel HenchmanDaniel MarshWilliam ScottCaleb BlanchardSamuel RugglesMiddlecott CookeThomas HartleyWilliam TorreyWilliam FairfieldByfield LydeJohn WendellCapt. Samuel PartridgeJonathan Williams, Jr.

(committee to assist the deacons, committee for seating in the meetinghouse, special committees, etc.). I have assumed that anyone who par-ticipated actively in the administration of church affairs was a genuinemember. Secondly, I have searched the church baptismal and marriagerecords for the period 1740-71. In the cases of both West Church andFirst Church, the lists gathered in this manner run to well over twohundred names. To thin out the lists to a size more in accordance withStiles's estimate, I have attempted to verify at least the fact of Boston

n 6 THE HIDDEN BALANCE

Table 2. Membership list for West Church

John GerrishJohn PopkinHarrison GrayEdward PotterJames Lamb, Jr.Thomas JacksonSamuel PilsburyJohn GrantJob PrinceWilliam Downe CheeversDan'll JonesStephen WhitingPeter CumberMiles WhitworthCharles CoffinJoseph ScottMeletiah BourneCapt. Isaac PhilipsJohn GillJoseph TylerThomas ChapmanWilliam DorringtonJohn FurnassNathaniel FosdickCapt. Martin GayJames BarkerEdward SandersJoseph HendersonEphraim FennoHezekiah WelchSamuel EliotWidow WinslowThomas CarnesJohn GoreHenry SimpsonEbenezer HancockSamuel JepsonJacob GillWilliam SmithThomas FluckerBenjamin EdesJohn HurdHenderson Inches

John GrantBenjamin KentHarrison Gray, Jr.James LambThomas GardnerEdward BarnattIsaac WinslowCapt. James BruceThomas BrewerPhilip RichardsonWilliam RogersThomas HodsonBarnabas AllenJames RobbJoseph HudsonSamuel HassamJames RidgwayRichard CallThomas FosterLemud StutsonIsaac TownsendSamuel QuincyDaniel BerryJoseph BillingsSarson BelcherSimeon FreemanJohn FleetNicholas GraySam Alleyne OtisBossenger FosterJohn SkinnerThomas WalleyJoseph WelchLewis GrayUriah NorcrossWilliam FosterJohn FarnumCol. Joseph ScottSamuel WaldoWilliam BrightPaul RevereJeremiah GridleyThomas Green

APPENDIX 117

residence in 1771 for each of the names. I have done this by matchingnames appearing in church records with names on the 1771 Mas-sachusetts valuation list. In some cases I have been able to establish thatcertain persons were still alive and living in Boston in 1765, by turningup their names in the reports of the Boston Records Commissioners. Insome cases, information provided in Sibley's Harvard Graduates has madeverification possible.

Regrettably, there is no foolproof way of determining whether per-sons whose Boston residency can be verified still belonged to one of thetwo churches. However, it is probably safe to assume that Boston resi-dents who consistently brought their children in to be baptized over aperiod of ten or twenty years (as most did) were committed to thecongregation. Thus, the final lists for 1765, though probably not perfect,ought to be considered fairly accurate.4

The winnowing-out process described above has yielded a list of mem-bers for each church about half in number of what Stiles's letter suggests.For First Church, there is a list of sixty-nine names, and for WestChurch, a list of eighty-six. I hope these lists provide a fair enoughsample of church membership to draw some conclusions about the socialcomposition of each congregation.

Something about the economic circumstances of individual memberscan be discovered by matching the names of church members withnames in the 1771 tax list.5 Tables 3 and 4 give the names of members ofFirst Church and West Church, respectively, with appropriate data fromthe 1771 list for each member. In some cases, church members whosenames appeared on records of church committees (and thus are con-sidered verified members) do not appear on the 1771 list. In some cases,information about the economic circumstances of these individuals hasbeen drawn from other sources.6

Occasionally, there is no tax information available on the 1771 list nextto a person's name. Often this is because he or she lived with anotherperson, either as a relative or as a rent-paying boarder. The 1771 listusually makes this clear by listing the name of the person to whom rentwas paid. Other times, when there is no information about the assessedannual worth of a person's real estate, and it is recorded that the person isa renter, it is sometimes evident that the person has substantial personalassets. Such is the case of Benjamin Homer of First Church, who is listedas the owner of twenty tons of shipping vessels and six hundred pounds'worth of merchandise. A similar case is that of John Hunt III of FirstChurch, who is listed as the owner of 450 pounds' worth of merchan-dise. For James Lamb of West Church, no information whatsoever isgiven about his financial status. However, the records of the losses of theGreat Fire of 1760 set his losses at seventy-three pounds eight shillings.7

n 8 THE HIDDEN BALANCE

Table 3. 1771 Assessment of First Church members

Name

Pemberton, SamuelTownsend, William B.Cunningham, JohnAustin, SamuelHubbard, TuttleRand, BartholomewLeverett, JohnLeverett, ThomasWaldo, ThomasHunt, ShrimptonGreen, JosephGray, JohnSalter, JohnMan, JosephHill, SamuelLowell, EbenezerRussel, JosephCunningham, AndrewRand, RobertRidgeway, SamuelRidgeway, Samuel, Jr.Austin, BenjaminQuincy, JosiahWait, Thomas*Thayer, CorneliusHunt, JoabRogers, JohnRand, ThomasCary, JonathanWilliams, JacobDoggett, SamuelSwan, EbenezerHolbrook, SamuelWheelwright, JobHunt, John, IIIGray, WilliamPowers, EdwardHomer, BenjaminFreeman, ConstantLoring, IsraelThwing, JamesRussell, JeremiahSalter, RichardHenchman, DanielfcThayer, Turrel

Annualworth

127

3534342 42 0

3434

82 06 0

142 0

—

62 0

4 08

2 4

2 0

37464 0

2 0

14—

2 0

102 0

2 0

2 016

2 0

2 0—

3410

—

2 0

18

34—

2 6

3 0

14

Adjustedannualworth

162

2 1 0

2 0 4

2 0 4

144120

2 0 4

2 0 4

48120

3 6 0

84120—

36120

2 4 0

48144

120

2 2 2

2762 4 0

120

84—120

6 0

120120

12096

120

120—

2 0 4

6 0—

120

128

2 0 4—

156180

84

Personalproperty

6 0 0

7 0 0

1,333—

1,170533460——

3,482—

i,43i2

——

646330

——

2 0

2 0 0—

18—

—

——

610

3 0 0—

2 6

4 0

4503 0 0

—

6 0—

4 0

2 4—

857

Total

162

8 1 0904

1,537144

1,290737664

48120

3,84284

i,55i2

36120

886378144120

2 4 2

4762 4 0

13884

120

6 0

126

1304 2 0

96146

160

450504

6 0

6 0

120

1682 2 8

—

1,013180

84

Table 3 (cont.)

Name

Marsh, DanielJackson, EdwardScott, WilliamGray, BenjaminBlanchard, CalebThayer, NathanielRuggles, SamuelJoy, Johnf

Williams, JonathanWilliams, Jonathan, Jr.

Other 1760 fire lossesCooke, MiddlecottRussel, BenjaminHartley, ThomasWebb, JosephTorrey, WilliamParrot, RuthFairfield, William

APPENDIX

Annualworth

2 0

2727H40

—2 0

276040

8536610

67800666257

Adjustedannualworth

120

16216284

240—120

162360240

Personalproperty

11940

993—

1,000—

—

—

1,000

162

119

Total

2302 0 2

M5584

1,240—

120

1621,360

402

Other members whose wealth is not recorded in the 1771 listJackson, Edward Inherited an estate of 30,000 pounds in 1736 (Sibley's,

8:61)

Note: Annual worth is annual worth of the whole real estate.Adjusted annual worth is annual worth multiplied by 6 to adjust it to the assessments

in the 1767 Tax Act. See Henretta, "Economic and Social Structure," p. 82n, andWarden, "Inequality," pp. 588~9n.

Personal property is value of merchandise, factorage, and money lent at interest.Total is in local currency (pounds Mass.). Warden has figured the exchange rate to be

about 75 percent, local currency to sterling, at this time ("Inequality," p. 591)."Lost property in 1760 fire valued at 300 pounds.feLost property in 1760 fire valued at 36 pounds.'Record of value of personal property illegible, but appears to be in four figures.

Likewise, we find in the fire loss records more information about PhilipRichardson of West Church than the 1771 list tells us.8 Cases such asthese give us reason to agree with Pencak that lack of property informa-tion about a name on the 1771 list does not necessarily mean that theperson was propertyless.9

As can be seen from Tables 3 and 4, the number of persons from themembership lists of First Church and West Church who rated in the top9.6 percent of taxpayers (see note 9) is impressive. For First Church,

THE HIDDEN BALANCE

Table 4. 1771 assessment of West Church members

Name

Gerrish, JohnGrant, JohnPopkin, JohnKent, BenjaminGray, HarrisonGray, Harrison, Jr.Potter, EdwardLamb, James"Lamb, James, Jr.Gardner, ThomasJackson, ThomasBarnatt, EdwardPilsbury, SamuelWinslow, IsaacBruce, Capt. JamesPrince, JobBrewer, ThomasCheevers, William D.Richardson, PhilipsJones, Dan'llRogers, WilliamWhiting, StephenHodson, ThomasCumber, PeterAllen, BarnabasRobb, JamesCoffin, CharlesHudson, JosephScott, JosephHassam, SamuelBourne, MeletiahRidgway, JamesPhilips, Capt. IsaacCall, RichardGill, JohnFoster, ThomasTyler, JosephStutson, LemudChapman, ThomasTownsend, IsaacDorrington, WilliamQuincy, SamuelFurnass, JohnBerry, DanielFosdick, Nathaniel

Annualworth

40272 0

3447

—1834

—8

2712

3472 0

409

2 0

43411

16162 016

7—

840

—

478

2716472 0

2 0

2714

—

144012

14

Adjustedannualworth

2 4 0162

1202 0 4

2 8 2—

108

2 0 4—

48162

7218

282120

2 4 0

54120

24204

669696

120

9642

—

48240—282

4816296

282120

120162

84—84

2407284

Personalproperty

——250———————

5—4 0 0

—

1,500—

268—

60—100

———

—

—

—

1,500—

1,050—

3 0 0—

943100

66————————

Total

2 4 0162

120

4542 8 2

—

108

2 0 4—

48162

7718

682120

1,74054

38824

26466

19696

120

9642

—48

1,740—

1,33248

46296

1,2352 2 0

186162

84—

84240

7284

—

Table 4 (cont.)

APPENDIX

NameAnnualworth

4887

20

16

20

54

166016

3420

80

5416

60

1311

271714

Adjustedannualworth

2884842

120

96120

324

9636096

204

120

480

32496

3607866

162102

84

Personalproperty

400

6————300

—

500

—

1,610

20

600

403—

1,377500

—

——

Total

Billings, JosephGay, Capt. MartinBelcher, SarsonBarker, JamesFreeman, SimeonSanders, EdwardFleet, JohnHenderson, JosephGray, NicholasFenno, EphraimOtis, Sam AlleyneWelch, HezekiahFoster, BossengerEliot, SamuelSkinner, JohnWinslow, WidowWalley, Thomas'Carnes, ThomasWelch, JosephGore, JohnGray, LewisSimpson, HenryNorcross, UriahHancock, EbenezerFoster, WilliamJepson, SamuelFarnum, JohnGill, JacobSmith, William 34 204 300

6885442

12096

120624

9686096

1,814140

1,08072796

1,73757866

162102

84

504

Other members whose wealth is not recorded in 17ji listWaldo, Samuel Possessed vast wealth, estimated at between 50,000 and

70,000 pounds (see Akers, p. 53; Nash, p. 568)Bright, William Lost 10 pounds' property in 1760 fireRevere, Paul A goldsmith, Revere nevertheless managed to find 213

pounds in 1770 to buy land from John Erving

"Lost property in 1760 fire valued at 73 pounds.fcLost property in 1760 fire valued at 27 pounds.cLost property in 1760 fire valued at 600 pounds.


thirteen of sixty-eight members possessed property valued in excess of600 pounds. They were: William B. Townsend, John Cunningham,Samuel Austin, Bartholomew Rand, John Leverett, Thomas Leverett,Joseph Green, John Salter, Joseph Russel, Richard Salter, William Scott,Caleb Blanchard and Jonathan Williams. In addition to these, anotherfive members possessed wealth valued at over 400 pounds, and thus werein the top 12 percent of Boston property owners. They were: BenjaminAustin, Samuel Doggett, John Hunt III, William Gray, and JonathanWilliams, Jr. The Great Fire records show that Middlecott Cooke,William Torrey, and Ruth Parrot lost property valued at 853, 800, and666 pounds, respectively, in 1760. According to the information givenby Pencak and Warden, the fire-loss records need not be revised in orderto compare them with the 1771 figures.10 Finally, we should add to thesenames that of Edward Jackson, who according to Sibley's Harvard Gradu-ates inherited in 1737 an estate worth 30,000 pounds.11 All totaled, then,twenty-three of sixty-nine members of First Church ranked in at least thetop 12 percent in Boston on the basis of property ownership.12

For West Church, we find that twelve of eighty-six members were inthe top 9.6 percent. They were: Isaac Winslow, Job Prince, Joseph Scott,Meletiah Bourne, John Gill, Capt. Martin Gay, Joseph Henderson, SamAlleyne Otis, Samuel Eliot, the Widow Winslow, Thomas Walley, andJohn Gore. In addition to these, another four ranked in the top 12 per-cent. They were: Benjamin Kent, Capt. Isaac Philips, Lewis Gray, andWilliam Smith. Samuel Waldo, whose wealth was estimated at between50,000 and 70,000 pounds - much of which consisted of vast propertyholdings in Maine13 - should be added to these. Adding these together,we find that seventeen of eighty-six members of West Church ranked inat least the top 12 percent on the basis of the value of their property.

A look at public officeholding among members of these congregationsreinforces the impression of status that the tax records suggest. We mightbegin this survey by identifying the "responsible" public offices. Follow-ing Cook, we can assume that the offices of representative, selectman,town treasurer, town clerk, and moderator were of such a nature.14

Though some of his claims are inflated and sometimes inaccurate, Hen-retta is probably correct in saying that certain other offices in Bostonwere correlated with social and economic position and ought to be un-derstood as prestigious to some degree.15 Specifically, the office of over-seer of the poor appears to have carried considerable responsibility inBoston in the period after 1760. Henretta believes that the office wasfilled by town elites, and the tax figures tend to support him.16 After the1760 fire, the overseers of the poor were given the formidable task ofgathering relief funds - which eventually totaled 13,317 pounds sterling- and of distributing them among the fire victims.17 As Warden and

APPENDIX 123

others have pointed out, such events as the credit crisis after NathanielWheelwright's financial failure, a currency crisis in general after 1760,and the smallpox epidemic of 1764-5 contributed toward broad changesin the fabric of Boston society. Nash suggests that these changes led to amarked increase in poverty among the city's population.18 The role ofthe overseers of the poor in providing relief for the poor, especially after1760, should not be underestimated. When one considers that the over-seers of the poor in Boston occasionally met with just the selectmen andthe justices to discuss important town matters,19 and that the office wasfilled almost exclusively by persons of the highest economic rank, then itis probably correct to assume that the office was both "responsible" andconnected with high status.

In addition to these city offices, we can expect that certain county andprovincial offices were correlated with high status. Such offices wouldinclude justices of the peace on the county level, and provincial leaders ofalmost any sort.

Let us take the year 1765, then, as an example of public officeholdingby members of First Church and West Church. Of the seven selectmen,Benjamin Austin and Nathaniel Thwing were from First Church.Thomas Flucker, of West Church, was chosen as a selectman but re-signed, probably because he was already a Massachusetts councillor(1761-8) and provincial secretary. Meletiah Bourne and HendersonInches (who would be chosen a selectman three years later), members ofWest Church, were made overseers of the poor. Harrison Gray, also ofWest Church, was a Massachusetts councillor (1772-6) as well as provin-cial treasurer. There were numerous justices of the peace from eachcongregation: Byfield Lyde, Nathaniel Balston, Jeremiah Green, JohnWendell, Benjamin Austin, William Blair Townsend, and Joseph Leewere all from First Church. Thomas Green, Isaac Winslow, MeletiahBourne, and Thomas Flucker were from West Church.20

When the inhabitants of the town of Boston met on March 6, 1770, toconsider together their course of action following the Boston Massacrethe preceding day, they elected a committee to represent their interests inthe matter, "to wait upon his honor the Lieut. Governor."21 Of thefifteen Bostonians selected, three were members of First Church: SamuelPemberton, Benjamin Austin, and Samuel Austin. One of the committeemembers, Henderson Inches, was from West Church.22

Likewise, when mandamus councillors were appointed in 1774, threeof the ten who took office were from West Church: Thomas Flucker,Harrison Gray, and Isaac Winslow. Another appointee, Joseph Lee, hadrecently left First Church, after a long membership, to join ChristChurch.23

Many other persons who were members of First Church or West


Church held public office in Boston in the period 1740-70. A few heldmajor offices. Middlecott Cooke, still a member of First Church in thesixties, was elected representative from Boston in 1776. Jeremiah Allen(d. 1750), of West Church, was a representative. Joseph Green of FirstChurch was chosen as a selectman in 1753. In 1767, John Gore, of WestChurch, and Capt. Samuel Partridge, of First Church, were made over-seers of the poor.24

Most of the officeholders drawn from these two churches held minorposts, and with the possible exception of town auditor or school inspec-tion committee member, these positions did not reflect high status.25

Nevertheless, many of the minor offices required diligence and frequentattention and, as Cook points out, sometimes groomed a person for amajor office.26 It is interesting to note that Samuel Austin (First Church)served as clerk of the market in 1756 and twelve years later became aselectman. William Blair Townsend was a scavenger in 1756, five yearsbefore becoming a justice of the peace. Nathaniel Thwing of WestChurch was also a scavenger, in 1748, and became a selectman in the1760s. John Gore was a clerk of the market in 1750 and an overseer of thepoor in 1767.27

First Church and West Church also numbered in their congregationsseveral prominent professional men. Josiah Quincy (Harvard A.B. 1763)of First Church read law with Oxenbridge Thatcher, was admitted to thebar in 1766, and two years later began to practice before the SupremeCourt. Shipton calls him the "greatest New England orator of his gener-ation." Quincy was appointed by the town of Boston to complain aboutthe Liberty affair, and it was also Quincy who chose to defend the soldiersinvolved in the Boston Massacre. His reputation as a skilled lawyer and apatriot spread throughout the colonies and beyond them to England.When he died at the age of thirty-one, he left two thousand pounds toHarvard College.

Another lawyer, Jeremiah Gridley, was a founder of West Church,and remained in the congregation for twenty years until he left Boston in1755. Like Quincy, he was a man of reputation: Shipton calls him "thegreatest New England lawyer of his generation." Oxenbridge Thatcher,James Otis, and William Cushing (Chief Justice of the U.S. SupremeCourt) read law with Gridley. In 1742, Gridley was elected attorneygeneral by the Massachusetts House of Representatives, but was imme-diately removed by the governor, who claimed the right to place his ownpolitical appointee in that office. In 1755 Gridley was elected GrandMaster of the Masons of North America, and served several terms asselectman in Brookline beginning that same year.28

Benjamin Kent, another lawyer who belonged to West Church, was"a member of more committees than any other Bostonian," beginning in

APPENDIX 125

1750. These included everything from school inspection committees tothe Liberty committee on which Josiah Quincy served. Kent was ap-pointed attorney general of the state in 1776. Samson Salter Blowers paida six-thousand-pound dowry to marry his youngest daughter, Sally, inI774-29

Another prominent professional man, Dr. Miles Whitworth, belongedto West Church. No relation to the quack "Whitworth doctors" of En-gland, he was responsible, along with Drs. James Lloyd and NathanielPerkins, for carrying through the smallpox inoculation program at Cas-tle William clinic in Boston Harbor during the 1763-5 epidemic.30 Whit-worth was well connected politically. Until 1769 he had the lucrativecommission from the Massachusetts Council to treat the poor in theBoston almshouse.31 Like Kent, his professional abilities were sometimesimpugned by Bostonians, but, like Kent, he remained prominent inBoston society.

The picture of First Church and West Church congregations that emer-ges from the sample above (which is drawn from the period 1750-71,and which includes some persons who were members for only some ofthose years) is one of above average representation in the high-statuscircle of Boston society. In the case of First Church, it is clear that on thebasis of wealth, public officeholding, and professional role, thirty-two ofsixty-nine members were of high status.32 In West Church, twenty-threeof eighty-six members were of high status.33 Many members of thesechurches ranked considerably above average on the basis of their wealth,and were in a position to make investments that would lift them into realwealth and high status.

Notes

PREFACE

1 Peter Oliver's Origin and Progress of the American Revolution, ed. Douglas Adairand John A. Schulz (San Marino, Calif., 1963), p. 42.

2 Ibid., p. 43.3 Ibid.4 Alice M. Baldwin, The New England Clergy and the American Revolution

(New York, 1928), p. 169. See also John W. Thornton, The Pulpit of theAmerican Revolution (Boston, i860); Frank Moore, The Patriot Preachers of theAmerican Revolution (New York, 1862); C. Van Tyne, "Influence of theClergy, and of the Religious and Sectarian Forces, on the American Revolu-tion," American Historical Review 19 (October 1913): 59-72; Max Savelle,Seeds of Liberty: The Genesis of the American Mind (New York, 1948); BernardBailyn, The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution (Cambridge, Mass.,1967), and "Religion and Revolution: Three Biographical Studies," Perspec-tives in American History 4 (1970): 111-24.

5 Alan Heimert, Religion and the American Mind: From the Great Awakening tothe Revolution (Cambridge, Mass., 1966), pp. 251, 12, 258. See also John C.Miller, "Religion, Finance, and Democracy in Massachusetts," New EnglandQuarterly 6 (1933): 29-58; Conrad Wright, The Beginnings of Unitarianism inAmerica (Boston, 1955); James W. Jones, The Shattered Synthesis: New En-gland Puritanism before the Great Awakening (New Haven, 1973).

6 Joseph Haroutunian, Piety versus Moralism (New York, 1932). See alsoJoseph Henry Allen and Richard Eddy, A History of the Unitarians and theUniversalists in America (New York, 1894); George Willis Cooke, Unitaria-nism in America (Boston, 1902); Herbert M. Morais, Deism in EighteenthCentury America (New York, 1934); Edward M. Griffin, Old Brick: CharlesChauncy of Boston, 1705-1787 (Minneapolis, 1980); Charles W. Akers, Calledunto Liberty: A Life of Jonathan May hew, 1720-1766 (Cambridge, Mass.,1964); Alden Bradford, Memoir of the Life and Writings of Reverend JonathanMayhew, D.D. (Boston, 1838). Several writers have recognized the com-

126

NOTES TO PP. x-1 127

plexity of Chauncy's and Mayhew's thinking, but have not attempted ananalysis of the full range of the ministers' ideas. In Republican Religion: TheAmerican Revolution and the Cult of Reason (New York, 1933), G. Adolf Kochwrote about Chauncy: "It leaves us with the paradox but not the contradic-tion that his liberalism was the natural outcome of his conservatism" (p.192). Clinton Rossiter addresses both the religious ideas and the politicalphilosophy of Mayhew, but does not join the two. See "The Life and Mindof Jonathan Mayhew," William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd ser., 7 (1950): 530-58. Charles H. Lippy, in Seasonable Revolutionary: The Mind of CharlesChauncy (Chicago, 1981), has argued that Chauncy was a progressive think-er in matters of religion but was unwilling to publish work that might upsetthe traditional Puritan church order. Nathan Hatch has suggested a promis-ing avenue of interpretation for the writings of Chauncy and Mayhew, aswell as works by other mid-eighteenth-century writers by suggesting themythic quality of certain elements in sermons by New England clergy. See"Origins of Civil Millenialism in America: New England Clergymen, Warwith France, and the Revolution," William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd ser., 31(1974): 401-29.

7 Akers does not provide enough analysis of Mayhew's ideas. Griffin does notsufficiently tie Chauncy's ideas as a whole to a social context. Heimert doesnot integrate Chauncy's and Mayhew's social theories with their theologies.Lippy does not address Chauncy's social theories.

8 Charles Chauncy, "A Sketch of Eminent Men in New England, In a Letterfrom the Rev. Dr. Chauncy to Dr. Stiles," Collections, Massachusetts His-torical Society, 1st ser., 10 (1809): 159.

9 See Perry Miller, The New England Mind: The Seventeenth Century (Cam-bridge, Mass., 1939), p. 443.

10 Mayhew Papers, Boston University Library, folders 9 and 10. See alsoAkers, p. 11.

11 Chauncy, "Eminent Men," p. 160.12 The theories of Emile Durkheim and Victor W. Turner have been helpful to

me in my study of the thought of Mayhew and Chauncy. I have beeninfluenced by Durkheim's claim that a concordance, or "fit," exists betweenthe structures of human social experience and the structure of religious ideas,and by Turner's hypothesis that social life is essentially an ongoing dialecti-cal process, in which periods of highly structured social life alternate withperiods of little or no structure. Emile Durkheim and Marcel Mauss, Primi-tive Classification, trans, and ed. Rodney Needham (Chicago, 1963). VictorW. Turner, The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure (Ithaca, 1969).

INTRODUCTION

1 According to Joseph Jackson, New Englanders began to elaborate theirdoorways and to build larger and more ornate porches in about 1753. SeeAmerican Colonial Architecture (Philadelphia, 1924), p. 160. A more recentstudy that stresses the mid-eighteenth-century interest in doorways is Ame-

128 NOTES TO PP. 1-5

lia F. Miller, Connecticut River Valley Doorways: An Eighteenth-CenturyFlowering (Boston, 1983).

2 Ibid., p. 166.3 For an appropriate discussion of in-betweenness see Turner, The Ritual

Process.4 Gordon Wood, The Creation of the American Republic, 1776—1787 (Chapel

Hill, 1969), p. 73.5 Michael Kammen, People of Paradox: An Inquiry Concerning the Origins of

American Civilization (New York, 1974), p. 184.6 Wood, p. 73.7 In relation to earlier Puritan conversion experiences, revival conversions

were sudden and unsupervised. In the seventeenth century, the experience ofregeneration was gradual, and was closely guided and tested by churchleadership. Jon Butler may be partly right in his suggestion that the GreatAwakening is interpretive fiction, that it was not as radical or dramatic an"event" as historians generally have believed. Nevertheless, as I argue be-low, the revival did contribute to eighteenth-century religion a large mea-sure of individualism that helped to shape "liberal" religious thought, es-pecially in New England. Though I agree with Murrin that seemingantievangelicals took hold of the reins of political leadership in the 1770s and80s, I uphold the importance of the Great Awakening as an event thattriggered the formation of liberal ideas in the 1740S-60S. See Jon Butler,"Enthusiasm Described and Decried: The Great Awakening as InterpretiveFiction," Journal of American History 69 (1982): 305-25, and John M. Murrin,"No Awakening, No Revolution? More Counterfactual Speculations," Re-views in American History 11 (1983): 161-71.

8 The Works of President Edwards, 4 vols. (Worcester, Mass., 1808), 1:189-90.9 See J. G. A. Pocock, "Machiavelli, Harrington and English Political Ide-

ologies in the Eighteenth Century," William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd ser., 22(1965): 549-83; Caroline Robbins, The Eighteenth Century Commonwealth-man: Studies in the Transmission, Development, and Circumstance of EnglishLiberal Thought from the Restoration of Charles II until the War with the ThirteenColonies (Cambridge, 1961).

10 A summary of the relevant literature may be found in John B. Kirby, "EarlyAmerican Politics - The Search for Ideology: An Historiographical Analysisand Critique of the Concept of 'Deference'," Journal of Politics 32 (1970):808-38.

11 See Wood, chap. I.12 John Shy, Toward Lexington: The Role of the British Army in the Coming of the

American Revolution (Princeton, 1965).13 Jackson Turner Main, The Social Structure of Revolutionary America (Prince-

ton, 1965), p. 229.14 Ibid., p. 193.15 See especially J. R. Pole, "Historians and the Problem of Early American

Democracy," American Historical Review 67 (April 1962): 626-46.16 Edward Pessen, "Social Mobility in American History," Journal of Southern

History 45 (May 1979): 168.

NOTES TO PP. 6-10 129

17 See Griffin, Old Brick, pp. 179, 187 n. 8.18 Bradford, Memoir, p. 12. Mayhew's family had been missionaries and pro-

prietors in Martha's Vineyard since 1641. Chauncy, too, came from a "res-pectable" background: His great-grandfather had served as president of Har-vard College. Quoted in Akers, Called unto Liberty, p. 25.

19 Collections, Massachusetts Historical Society, 7th ser., 74 (1918): xxiv.20 The Works of John Adams, ed. Charles Francis Adams, 10 vols. (Boston,

1850-6), 10:301.21 Ibid., pp. 271-2.22 Henri Bergson, Creative Evolution, trans. Arthur Mitchell (New York,

1944), P- 195.23 Henri Bergson, The Two Sources of Morality and Religion, trans. R. Ashley

Audra and Cloudesley Brereton with the assistance of W. Horsfall Carter(New York, 1935). See chap. 3, "Dynamic Religion." See also CreativeEvolution, pp. I95ff. Bergson wrote that "all around intelligence there lin-gers a fringe of intuition, vague and evanescent" (Morality and Religion, p.201). This "fringe of intuition" cooperates with intelligence, or the concept-forming faculty in humans, to bring about a progressively more satisfyingunderstanding of life. "Intuition" offers impressions, which intelligence at-tempts to refine into knowledge. Such action by the intellect, in turn, prodsintuition to greater efforts, so that there is thus a "reciprocal interpenetra-tion, endlessly continued creation" (Creative Evolution, p. 195). Bergsonwrote of intuition:

On the one hand, it will utilize the mechanisms of intelligence itselfto show how intellectual molds cease to be strictly applicable; and onthe other hand, by its own work, it will suggest to us the vaguefeeling, if nothing more, of what must take the place of intellectualmolds. Thus, intuition may bring the intellect to recognize that lifedoes not quite go into the category of the many, nor yet into that ofthe one; that neither mechanical causality nor finality can give asufficient interpretation of the vital process. (Creative Evolution, p.195)

1. THE HIDDEN WHOLE

1 Jonathan Mayhew, Discourse on Revelation XV. 3d, 4th (Boston, 1755), p. 38.2 Jonathan Mayhew, Two Sermons on the Nature, Extent and Perfection of Divine

Goodness (Boston 1763), p. 41.3 Jonathan Mayhew, The Expected Dissolution of All Things, (Boston, 1755), p.

H.4 Jonathan Mayhew manuscript sermons, Huntington Library, San Marino.5 Expected Dissolution, p. 25.6 Jonathan Mayhew, Two Thanksgiving Discourses (Boston, 1759), pp. 58-9.7 Jonathan Mayhew, Two Discourses Delivered, October 9, 1760 (Boston, 1760),

p. 10.8 Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 57.9 Discourse on Revelation, p. 36.

i3o NOTES TO PP. 10-16

10 Jonathan May hew, A Discourse Occasioned by the Death of The HonourableStephen Sewall, Esq. (Boston, 1760), p. 35.

11 Discourse on Revelation, p. 14.12 Ibid., p. 13.13 Ibid., p. 17.14 Jonathan Mayhew, Two Discourses Delivered November 23, 1758 (Boston,

1758), pp. 36-7.15 Ibid.16 Ibid., p. 36.17 Jonathan Mayhew, God's Hand and Providence (Boston, 1760), pp. 8-9.18 Ibid., p. 8.19 Ibid.20 Ibid., p. 10.21 Two Discourses October g, 1760, p. 15.22 Jonathan Mayhew Two Discourses Delivered October 25, 1759 (Boston, 1759),

p. 59-23 Expected Dissolution, p. 6; Discourse on Revelation, p. 49.24 Discourse on Revelation, pp. 22-3.25 Expected Dissolution, p. 28.26 Discourse on Revelation, pp. 24-5.27 Ibid., p. 25.28 Ibid., p. 26.29 Ibid.30 Ibid., pp. 26-731 Ibid., p. 27.32 Ibid., p. 28.33 Ibid.34 Two Discourses October g, 1760, p. 19.35 Jonathan Mayhew, Practical Discourses Delivered on the Occasion of the Earth-

quakes in Nov., 1755 (Boston, 1760), pp. 370-1.36 Discourse on Revelation, p. 34.37 Huntington Library manuscripts.38 Two Discourses October 25, 1739, pp. 58-9.39 Discourse on Revelation, p. 30.40 Charles Chauncy, Twelve Sermons (Boston, 1765), p. 114.41 Ibid., pp. 55-6.42 Ibid., p. 151.43 Charles Chauncy, The Benevolence of the Deity (Boston, 1784), p. vi.44 Ibid., p. 61.45 Ibid., p. 179.46 Ibid., pp. 80, 186.47 Ibid., p. 56.48 Ibid., p. 113.49 The civil government is discussed in detail in Chapter 3.50 Charles Chauncy, An Unbridled Tongue (Boston, 1741), p. 39.51 Twelve Sermons, p. 164.52 Charles Chauncy, Seasonable Thoughts on the State of Religion in New-England

(Boston, 1743), p. 137.


53 Charles Chauncy, Letter to a Friend (Boston, 1774), p. 33; Charles Chauncy,Trust in God (Boston, 1770), p. 26.

54 Charles Chauncy, Marvellous Things (Boston, 1745), pp. 7-8.55 Trust in God, pp. 27-8.56 Marvellous Things, p. 8.57 Trust in God, p. 26.58 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 60.59 Charles Chauncy, Earthquakes a Token of the Righteous Anger of God (Boston,

1755), P- 7-60 Ibid., p. 8.61 Ibid.62 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 70.63 Twelve Sermons, pp. 55-6.64 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 178.65 Ibid., p. 6.66 Ibid., p. 22.67 Earthquakes a Token, p. 9.68 Trust in God, p. 28.69 Twelve Sermons, p. 106.

2. RELIGION

1 George Lakoff and Mark Johnson, Metaphors We Live By (Chicago, 1980),p. 3-

2 Harrison Gray, "Memoir of Dr. Mayhew," ed. Louis Leonard Tucker,Proceedings of the Bostonian Society, January 17, 1961, pp. 35, 30.

3 Mayhew, Discourse Occasioned by the Death of The Honourable StephenSewall, Esq., p. 29.

4 Mayhew Papers, Boston University Library, folder 10, pp. 6-7.5 Akers, p. 29.6 Mayhew Papers, Boston University Library, folder 10, p. 3.7 Ibid., p. 18.8 Ibid.9 Jonathan Mayhew, Seven Sermons (Boston, 1749), p. 74.

10 Ibid., p. 42.11 Ibid.12 Ibid.13 Ibid., p. 43.14 Ibid., p. 91.15 Ibid.16 Jonathan Mayhew, Sermons on the Following Subjects (Boston, 1755), p. 26.17 Chauncy, "Eminent Men," p. 160.18 Griffin, p. 112. In a letter to Ezra Stiles in 1768, Chauncy wrote: "I have

still another piece, which, when I have leisure, I will publish with allfreedom. It wants little more than transcribing to finish it. It is upon thebenevolence of God, its nature, illustration and consistency with evil bothnatural and moral. This was written many years ago. It will make a moder-ate octavo volume" ("Eminent Men," p. 163). Griffin points out that "a


long section on p. 12 of Chauncy's sermon The Earth Delivered, preachedJanuary 22, 1756, is identical with a paragraph toward the end of TheBenevolence of the Deity (p. 258). This suggests that the latter work wascomplete by early 1756" (Griffin, p. 203 n.io). Lippy has argued for under-standing the delayed publication of this "pudding" of treatises as a sign ofChauncy's caution. See Lippy, pp. 107—31.

19 P. Miller, New England Mind: The Seventeenth Century, pp. n 1-239.20 William Perkins, The Works of That Famous and Worthy Minister of Christ in

the Universitie of Cambridge, Mr. William Perkins, 3 vols. (London, 1826-31),2:751.

21 William Ames, The Marrow of Sacred Divinity, trans, and ed. John D.Eusden (Philadelphia, 1968), p. 308.

22 Thomas Goodwin, The Works of Thomas Goodwin, 10 vols. (Edinburgh,1863), 6:515-

23 John Winthrop, "A Model of Christian Charity," in Conrad Cherry, ed.,God's New Israel (Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1971), p. 42.

24 Alan Simpson, Puritanism in Old and New England (Chicago, 1955), pp. 2,24.

25 M. M. Knappen, Tudor Puritanism: A Chapter in the History of Idealism(Chicago, 1939; repr. 1970), p. 34<5-

26 Perry Miller, Errand into the Wilderness (New York, 1956), pp. 142-3.27 Norman Pettit, The Heart Prepared: Grace and Conversion in Puritan Spiritual

Life (New Haven, 1966), p. 205.28 P. Miller, New England Mind: Seventeenth Century, Chaps. 14-15.

This is not to say that "personal" religion - religion of "heart" - disap-peared. On the contrary, it flourished, but was less visible than it had beenin the early seventeenth century. See Charles E. Hambrick-Stowe, ThePractice of Piety: Puritan Devotional Practices in Seventeenth-Century New En-gland (Chapel Hill, 1982); David Levin, Cotton Mather: The Young Life of theLord's Remembrancer 1663-1703 (Cambridge, Mass., 1978); Robert Mid-dlekauff, The Mathers: Three Generations of Puritan Intellectuals 1^6-1728(New York, 1971); Robert G. Pope, The Half-Way Covenant: Church Mem-bership in Puritan New England (Princeton, 1969); and Harry S. Stout, TheNew England Soul: Preaching and Religious Culture in Colonial New England(New York, 1986).

29 Richard L. Bushman, From Puritan to Yankee: Character and the Social Orderin Connecticut, 16^0-176^ (New York, 1967), p. 220.

30 Jonathan Edwards, A Faithful Narrative of the Surprising Work of God, in TheWorks of Jonathan Edwards, A.M., 2 vols. (London, 1845), 1:347-8.

31 A good summary of the controversy can be found in Edwin Scott Gaustad,The Great Awakening in New England (Gloucester, Mass., 1965).

32 Letter from Thomas Parsons to Thomas Prince, Jr., April 14, 1744, pub-lished in Christian History, ed. Thomas Prince, Jr. (Boston, 1745), p. 127;letter from George Griswold, ibid., p. 105; letter from Gilbert Tennent,ibid., p. 300; Jonathan Edwards, The Distinguishing Marks of a Work of theSpirit of God (Boston, 1741), p. 9; Charles Chauncy, A Letter to a FriendConcerning the Late Religious Commotion in New England (Boston, 1743), pp.4-5-

N O T E S T O PP. 28-34 133

33 Edwards, A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections, in Works (1845), 1:291.34 George Whitefield, The Works of the Reverend George Whitefxeld, 8 vols.

(London, 1872), 5:267.35 Jonathan Parsons, Wisdom Justified (Boston, 1742), p . 18.36 Jonathan Dickinson, The Witness of the Spirit (Boston, 1740), pp. 2 6 - 8 .37 M a y h e w Papers, Boston Universi ty Library, folder 10, pp. 7 -8 .38 Ibid., letter of March 26, 1742.39 Ibid.40 Mayhew, Two Discourses November 23, 1758, p. 41.41 Ibid., pp. 41—2.42 Ibid., p . 41 . M a y h e w wrote that speculative knowledge alone was nothing

but "furniture of the head." See Sermons on the Following Subjects, pp. 1 1 -12. In 1755 M a y h e w lamented the overrational tendencies of some personswith the words "We are manifestly running into an extreme; at least manyamongst us are under a not ion of a more rational religion" (ibid., p . 16).For Mayhew, "true repentance" consisted "in the turning of the heart fromfolly and sin, to wisdom, virtue and holiness." See Mayhew Papers, Hun t -ington Library: sermon manuscript, December 1762. Mayhew, of course,did not want to turn the heart completely to the affections, like the "en-lightened Ideots" of the revival w h o " impute all their ravings and follies andwild imaginations to the spirit of God; and usually think themselves convert-ed, when the poor unhappy creatures are only out of their wi ts" (SevenSermons, p. 39).

43 Jonathan Mayhew, Christian Sobriety, (Boston, 1763), p . 177.44 Ibid., p . 128.45 Ibid., p . 197.46 Seasonable Thoughts, p. 418.47 Ministers Cautioned against the Occasions of Contempt (Boston, 1744), p. 29.48 O n these men see Gaustad, pp. 3 2 - 4 1 .49 Ibid., p . 98. For Gaustad and other scholars, Chauncy's understanding of

religion is diametrically opposed to Edwards 's .50 Edwards , A Treatise, p . 281.51 Ministers Cautioned, pp. 29—30.52 Ibid., p . 30.53 Seven Sermons, p. 95.54 Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 7.55 "Supernatural Rationalism" was first used by A. C. McGiffert to refer to

the thinking of Tillotson, Clarke, and Locke. See his Protestant Thoughtbefore Kant ( N e w York, 1961). T h e term was picked up by Conrad Wrightto refer to American followers of Tillotson, Clarke, and Locke. SeeWright's The Liberal Christians: Essays on American Unitarian History(Boston, 1970), esp. chap. 1.

56 Quo ted in McGiffert, p . 195.57 John Tillotson, The Example of Jesus in Doing Good, in Works, 12 vols.

(London, 1820), 2:189.58 John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690), 2.1.2.59 Ibid., 4.17.23.60 Quo ted in McGiffert, p . 205.


61 John Toland, Christianity Not Mysterious (1696); Anthony Collins, EssayConcerning the Use of Reason in Propositions, the Evidence Whereof Depends onHuman Testimony (1707).

62 Samuel Clarke, A Discourse Concerning the Unchangeable Obligations of Natu-ral Religion, and the Truth and Certainty of the Christian Revelation (London,1705). See esp. Proposition vii.1.2.

63 P. Miller, New England Mind: Seventeenth Century, p. 420.64 Cotton Mather, Manuductio ad Ministerium (1726) (New York, 1938), p. 38.65 Jonathan Mayhew, The Right and Duty of Private Judgement (Boston, 1749),

P- 43.66 Charles Chauncy, Five Dissertations on the Scripture Account of the Fall (Lon-

don, 1785), pp. 32-3.67 Ebenezer Gay, Natural Religion as Distinguish'd from Revealed (Boston,

1759), p. 12.68 Bushman, p. 206.69 Charles Chauncy, Enthusiasm Describ'd and Caution}d Against (Boston,

1742), p. 7.70 Charles Chauncy, The Only Compulsion (Boston, 1739), p. 25.71 Ibid., p. 26.72 Ibid., p. 3.73 Ibid., p. 10.74 Ibid., p. 3.75 Enthusiasm Describ'd, p. 12.76 Ministers Cautioned, p. 14.77 Ibid., p. 6.78 Enthusiasm Describ'd, p. 12.79 Ibid., pp. 11-12.80 See Heimert, p. 47; Jones, pp. 185, 189.81 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 61.82 Ibid., p. 128.83 Ibid.84 Ibid., p. 136.85 Ibid., p. 137.86 Ibid., p. 128.87 Ibid., p. 135.88 Ibid., p. 62.89 Ibid., p. 61.90 Ibid., p. 62.91 Five Dissertations, p. 32.92 Ibid., p. 35.93 Ibid., p. 33.94 Charles Chauncy, The Duty of Ministers (Boston, 1766), p. 18.95 Ministers Cautioned, p. 9.96 Ibid., p. 10.97 See Twelve Sermons, pp. 115-20. Mayhew's and Chauncy's sometimes

naive trust in reason is contrary to the suspicious, even pessimistic, view ofmany Enlightenment writers (see Peter Gay, The Enlightenment: An Inter-


pretation [New York, 1966], pp. 72-203). It should be remembered,however, that Mayhew and Chauncy viewed "reason" essentially as a dia-lectical process, not as a simple set of principles that were easily applied toconcrete human situations so as to make possible some clear and finaljudgments about right and wrong. Moreover, Chauncy and Mayhewwere, as I have pointed out, sometimes not so naive. They were quiteaware that only through the most conscientious effort (even from thoseexperienced in thinking "reasonably") could one avoid falling into danger-ous "extremes." Reasonable thinking was a matter of strenuous meditationand experimentation and reflection upon the circumstances of a given situa-tion, not a simple and secure mechanism for the easy, natural apprehensionof truth.

98 Kenneth Burke, A Grammar of Motives (New York, 1945), p. 403.99 Charles Chauncy, Man's Life Considered under the Similitude of a Vapour

(Boston, 1731), p. 15.100 Ibid., p. 14.101 Ibid., p. 1.102 Ibid., p. 13.103 Ibid., pp. 8, 13.104 Ibid., p. 14.105 A Discourse occasioned by the Death of the Revernd [sic] Jonathan Mayhew,

D.D. (Boston, 1766), pp. 8-9. Chauncy does not identify the source of theinternal quotation.

106 Two Discourses November 23, 1758, p. 43.107 Sermons on the Following Subjects, p. 14.108 Ibid., p. 338.109 Ibid., pp. 8-9n o Seven Sermons, p. 57.i n Ibid., p. 31.112 Ibid., pp. 57-8.113 Ibid., p. 80.114 Ibid., p. 73.115 Christian Sobriety, p. 21.116 Sermons on the Following Subjects, p. 32.117 Seven Sermons, p. 79.118 Burke, pp. 312-13.119 Ibid., pp. 311-12.120 Sermons on the Following Subjects, pp. 108-9.121 Ibid., p. 109.122 Wright, Beginnings ofUnitarianism, p. 120.123 Sermons on the Following Subjects, pp. 171-2.124 Wright, p. 121.125 Sermons on the Following Subjects, p. 109.126 Ibid., p. 217.127 Ibid., p. 215.128 Ibid., p. 216.129 Ibid., p. 327.


130 Twelve Sermons, p. 42.131 Ibid., p. 43.132 Ibid., p. 46.133 Ibid., p. 124.134 Ibid., p. 60.135 Ibid., p. 115.136 Ibid., p. 116.137 Ibid., p. 115.138 Ibid., p. 120.139 Ibid.140 Ibid., p. 115.141 Ibid., p. 121.142 Ibid., p. 123.143 Charles Chauncy, The New Creature Describ'd (Boston, 1741), p. 5.144 Ibid., p. 7.145 Ibid., pp. 7, 9.146 Ibid., p. 9.147 Ibid., p. 13.148 Ibid., pp. 13-14.149 Ibid., pp. 17-18.150 Ibid., p. 35.151 Ibid., p. 37.152 Ibid., p. 36.153 Ibid., p. 35.154 Charles Chauncy, The Out-pouring of the Holy Ghost (Boston, 1742), p. 5.155 Ibid.156 Two Discourses October g, 1760, p. 6n.157 Huntington Library Manuscripts, sermon of March 1749.158 Jonathan Mayhew, Striving to Enter In at the Strait Gate Explain''d and Incul-

cated (Boston, 1761), p. 7.159 Ibid., pp. 32-3. His definition is on p. 8.160 According to Burke, dialectic and drama are equatable in terms of the

process each describes. See pp. 511-12.161 Seven Sermons, pp. 90, 101.162 Sermons on the Following Subjects, pp. 33, 77; Christian Sobriety, p. iv, for

examples.163 See, for example, Sermons on the Following Subjects, p. 209; Striving to Enter,

p. 44; Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 35.164 Seven Sermons, p. 5.165 Ibid., p. 13.166 Ibid., pp. 13-14.167 Ibid., p. 13.168 Ibid., p. 16.169 Mayhew, Two Discourses October 25, 1759, p. 63.170 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 176.171 Ibid., p. 176.172 Ibid., p. 179.


173 Ibid., p. 178.174 Ibid., pp. 177-8.175 Ebenezer Frothingham, The Articles of Faith and Practice with the Covenant

(New York, 1750), p. 7.176 Whitefield, 5:108.177 Edwards, Works (1845), 1:610.178 Jonathan Edwards, Works, ed. E. Hickman, 2 vols. (London, 1865), 2:295.179 Gilbert Tennent, The Virtue of Charity (Boston, 1743), p. 19; The Late

Association for Defense, Encourag'd (Philadelphia, 1748), pp 19, 20-31.180 William Haller, The Rise of Puritanism (1938) (New York, 1957), p. 18.181 Edwards, Nature of True Virtue, in Works (1865), i:i27ff.182 Whitefield, 5:343.183 Bushman, p. 272184 Samuel Davies, A Sermon Delivered at Nassau Hall (Boston, 1761), p. 32.185 Heimert, p. 167.186 Christian Sobriety, p. 50.

3. GOVERNMENT

1 William Livingston et al., The Independent Reflector, ed. Milton Klein (Cam-bridge, 1963), p. 330.

2 Ibid., p. 115.3 Ibid., pp. 361, 364.4 Bushman, esp. chaps. 4 -5 .5 Collections of Cato's Letters appeared in eight London editions between

1721 and 1747, and two American editions of The Independent Whig, an-other Trenchard and Gordon vehicle, appeared in the same period. DavidL. Jacobson writes that English copies of Trenchard and Gordon were to be"found widely in the colonies and were, as will be suggested below, read,admired, and frequently copied or reprinted in part." See The English Liber-tarian Heritage (New York, 1965), p. xxxi.

6 In Jacobson, pp. 83, 85, 256, 257.7 A Brief Narrative of the Case and Trial of John Peter Zenger Printer of the New

York Weekly Journal, ed. Stanley N . Katz (Cambridge, 1963), p. 98.8 Robbins, Eighteenth Century Commonwealthman; Pocock, "Machiavelli";

Bailyn, Ideological Origins.9 Jonathan Mayhew, The Snare Broken (Boston, 1766), p. 20.

10 See Bailyn, Ideological Origins, pp. 35-54; Pauline Maier, From Resistance toRevolution: Colonial Radicals and the Development of American Opposition toBritain, 1765-1776 (New York, 1972), chap. 2; Clinton Rossiter, Seedtimeof the Republic: The Origin of the American Tradition of Political Liberty (NewYork, 1953), pp 141-7.

11 Snare Broken, p. 34.12 Bailyn, Ideological Origins, pp. 246-72.13 Mayhew, Two Discourses November 23, 1758, p. 48.14 Jonathan Mayhew, Popish Idolatry (Boston, 1750), p. 48.15 Snare Broken, p. 34.


16 Jonathan Mayhew, A Discourse Concerning Unlimited Submission (Boston,1750), p. 44.

17 Snare Broken, p. 37.18 Bortman Collection, Boston University Library, folder 11, p. 4.19 Ibid., p. 5.20 Ibid.21 Ibid.22 Ibid.23 Ibid., p. 8. See Snare Broken, p. 35, for reference to Locke.24 John Locke, Of Civil Government, II.ix.131.25 Ibid., II.vii.87.26 Snare Broken, p. 42.27 Baldwin, p. 43.28 Martha L. Counts, "The Political Views of the Eighteenth Century New

England Clergy As Expressed in Their Election Sermons" (unpublishedPh.D. dissertation, Columbia University, 1956), pp. 85-95.

29 See Baldwin, p. 43.30 Charles Chauncy, Civil Magistrates Must Be Just (Boston, 1747), p. 8.31 Ibid.32 Ibid., p. 9-33 Ibid., pp. 8-10.34 Ibid., pp. 9-10.35 Ibid.36 Ibid., p. 13.37 Ibid., p. 44.38 Ibid., p. 47.39 Ibid., p. 51.40 Pocock, p. 565.41 See Michael Downs, James Harrington (Boston, 1977), pp. 18-19.42 James Harrington, Works: The Oceana and Other Works, ed. John Toland

(London, 1771), p. 37.43 Ibid., p. 38.44 Pocock, esp. pp. 565-75.45 Henry Neville, Plato Redivivus: or, a Dialogue Concerning Government (Lon-

don, 1681), pp. 140-1.46 Ibid., esp. pp. 237-40.47 Pocock, p. 370.48 See Robbins, pp. 35-41.49 See John Locke, Two Treatises of Government (1690) (Cambridge, 1962).50 John Milton, Prose Selections, ed. Merritt Y. Hughes (New York, 1947), p.

280.51 Ibid., p. 284.52 Ibid., p. 289.53 Algernon Sidney, Discourses on Government (Edinburgh, 1710), p. 122.54 Ibid., p. 147.55 Ibid., p. 48.56 Ibid., pp. 312-13.


57 Especially popular themes were: the tendency of power to corrupt, thenecessity for balance in government, and the contractual nature of civilauthority.

58 Robert Moles worth, An Account (London, 1694), preface.59 Quoted in Maier, p. 31.60 Robert Molesworth, Principles of a Real Whig (London, 1711), pp. 192-212.61 Benjamin Hoadly, The Original and Institution of Civil Government Discuss'd

(London, 1710), p. 5.62 Ibid., pp. 143, 145 and sects, I-IV.63 Ibid., p. 141.64 Pocock, pp. 572-3.65 A Collection is a selection of Bolingbroke's many essays on government.66 A Collection of Political Tracts by the Author of the Dissertation upon Parties

(London, 1775), pp. 291—2.67 Ibid., pp. 243-4.68 Ibid., p. 274.69 Ibid., p. 293; see also Isaac Kramnick, Bolingbroke and His Circle: The Politics

of Nostalgia in the Age of Walpole (Cambridge, Mass., 1968), pp. 172-7.70 Quoted in Kramnick, pp. 101-3.71 Pole, p. 629.72 John B. Kirby, "Early American Politics - The Search for Ideology: An

Historiographical Analysis and Critique of the Concept of 'Deference',"Journal of Politics 32 (1970): 808-38.

73 Richard Buel, Jr., "Democracy and the American Revolution: A Frame ofReference," William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd ser., 21 (1964): 178-9.

74 Kramnick, p. 102.75 Bailyn, Ideological Origins, pp. 55-6.76 Ibid., p. 56.77 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 107.78 For the plagiarism charge see Bailyn's introduction to A Discourse in his

edition Pamphlets of the American Revolution (Cambridge, Mass., 1965).79 Sermons on the Following Subjects, p. 466.80 See above, Chapter 1.81 Mayhew, especially, was a follower of Boyle. His notes on Boyle are in

Bortman Collection, folder 10.82 Wright, p. 183.83 See Hegel's The Phenomenology of the Spirit (1807) and The Philosophy of

History (1822).84 Civil Magistrates, p. 10.85 Ibid., p. 51.86 Ibid., p. 10.87 Ibid.88 Ibid.89 Ibid., p. 11.90 Ibid., pp. 12-13, I 2 -91 Ibid., p. 14.92 Ibid.

NOTES TO PP. 77-81

93949596979899

100101102103104

105106107108109n oI I I112

113114

115I l 6117I l 8119120121122

123

riortman Collection, lolaer 10Christian Sobriety, p. 168.Huntington Library collection,Ibid., pp. 14, 21.Ibid., p. 21.Ibid.Ibid., p. 29.Ibid., p. 31.Ibid.Ibid., p. 23.Unlimited Submission, p. 33.Ibid., pp. 30-3.Two Sermons on the Nature, p.Ibid., pp. 20-1.Ibid., p. 21.Ibid.Ibid.Ibid.Ibid., p. 22.Ibid., p. 25.Ibid.Bortman Collection, folder nIbid., p. 6.Unlimited Submission, p. 38n.Ibid., p. 35.Bortman Collection, folder 11Unlimited Submission, p. 35.Civil Magistrates, p. 26.Ibid., p. 7.Ibid., pp. 34-5.Bailyn, Ideological Origins, p.these two competing systems,Revolution the matter was stil

, p. n .

, Sermon II, March 1759, pp. 13-14.

2 2 .

, p. 5-

, p. 6.

302. In summarizing the conflict betweenBailyn suggests that as late as the eve of the1 unresolved:

For the ancient notion that leadership must devolve upon menwhose "personal authority and greatness," whose "eminence or no-bility," were such that "every man subordinate is ready to yield awilling submission without comtempt or repining" - ordinary peo-ple not easily conceding to an authority "conferred upon a mean man. . . no better than selected out of their own rank" - this traditionalnotion had never been repudiated, was still honored and repeated.But now, in the heated atmosphere of incipient rebellion, the idea ofleaders as servants of the people was pushed to its logical extremeand its subversive potentialities revealed. By 1774 it followed fromthe belief that "lawful rulers are the servants of the people" that theywere "exalted above their brethren not for their own sakes, but forthe benefit of the people; and submission is yielded, not on accountof their persons considered exclusively on the authority they are


clothed with, but of those laws which in the exercise of this au-thority are made by them conformably to the laws of nature andequity." In the distribution of offices, it was said in 1770, "meritonly in the candidate should count - not birth, or wealth, or loyaltyto the great; but merit only." (p. 309)

124 Adams, Defense of the Constitution of the Government of the United States ofAmerica in Works, 4:392, 397.

125 Edward M. Cook, Jr., The Fathers of the Towns: Leadership and CommunityStructure in Eighteenth-Century New England (Baltimore, 1976), pp. 93-4.

126 Civil Magistrates p. 24.127 Ibid., pp. 25, 24. Chauncy, obviously, claimed that qualities such as just-

ness and honesty were important in a leader, and he also could recognizecertain aspects of "unfitness." But he did not offer any systematic guide-lines for judging the "suitability" of leaders.

128 See Chauncy, "Eminent Men," p. 160.129 Bortman Collection, folder 10, pp. 8-9.130 Ibid., p. 9.131 Benevolence of the Deity, p. iii.132 Ibid., p. 18.133 Seven Sermons, p. 12.134 Ibid., pp. 112, 119.135 Ibid., p. 119.136 Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 16.137 Ibid.138 Seven Sermons, p. 120.139 Ibid.140 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 42.141 Ibid., p. vii.142 Seven Sermons, pp. 122, 123.143 Ibid.144 Ibid., p. 123.145 Ibid., p. 126.146 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 24.147 Ibid., p. 19.148 Ibid., p. 25.149 Ibid,, p. iii.

4. SOCIETY

1 Rossiter, Seedtime of the Republic, p. 86.2 Devereux Jarratt, The Life of Devereux Jarratt (Baltimore, 1806), p. 14.3 The Diary of Samuel Sewall i6j4-ij2g, 2 vols. (New York, 1973), 1:573.4 In "Notes and Queries," William and Mary Quarterly, 1st ser., 3 (October

1894): 136.5 See Frederick B. Tolles, Meeting House and Counting House, The Quaker

Merchants of Colonial Philadelphia, 1682-1763 (Chapel Hill, 1948), p. 112.6 Main, pp. 229-30.

H2 NOTES TO PP. 87-93

7 John Day, Remarks on American Affairs, repr. in Jack P. Greene, "SocialStructure and Political Behavior in Revolutionary America: John Day'sRemarks on American Affairs," William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd ser., 31(1974): 481-94 (p. 485).

8 Sermons on the Following Subjects, p. 466.9 Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 33. The immediate reference is to the

cosmos.10 Jonathan Mayhew, A Discourse Occasioned by the Death of King George II

(Boston, 1761), p. 42.11 Christian Sobriety, pp 272-3.12 The Snare Broken, pp. 41-2.13 Christian Sobriety, p. 159.14 Seasonable Thoughts, pp. 44-7.15 Ibid., p. 42.16 Ibid., p. 366.17 Enthusiasm Describ'd, p. 11.18 Seasonable Thoughts, p. 366.19 Charles Chauncy, Gifts of the Spirit (Boston, 1742), p. 12.20 Seasonable Thoughts, p. 32.21 Christian Sobriety, p. 12.22 Sermons on the Following Subjects, p. 350.23 Christian Sobriety, p. 151.24 Ibid.25 Ibid., p. 152.26 Charles Chauncy, Christian Love (Boston, 1773), p. 14.27 Ibid.28 Main, p. 193.29 Rossiter, Seedtime of the Republic, p. 89.30 Christian Sobriety, p. 156.31 Charles Chauncy, The Idle-Poor Secluded from the Bread of Charity (Boston,

1752), p. 6.32 Ibid., p. 13.33 Christian Sobriety, pp. 156-7.34 Idle-Poor, pp. 7, 11.35 Striving to Enter, p. 8.36 Christian Sobriety, pp. 262-3.37 Idle-Poor, p. 14.38 Christian Sobriety, pp. 269-70.39 Idle-Poor, p. 14.40 Ibid.41 Ibid.42 Sermons on the Following Subjects, p. 467.43 Mayhew's tone here is against those who would emphasize worldly riches

and neglect spiritual concerns, but it is clear that he recognizes the pos-sibility of persons becoming rich by working hard.

44 Sermons on the Following Subjects, p. 467.45 Mayhew wrote: "But I would rather be the poor son of a good man, who

spent a long life in the laborious and apostolic employment of preaching the


unsearchable riches of Christ to poor Indians, than the rich son, and heir, ofone who, by temporalizing in religion and tampering with politics, byflattering the great, and prostituting his conscience, has made the way to abishoprick and the worldly dignity of a peer." Quoted in Bradford, p. i.Bradford took the quote from Mayhew's Remarks on an Anonymous Writer.

46 Christian Sobriety, p. 159.47 Rossiter, Seedtime of the Republic, p. 88.48 Tolles, p. 112.49 Main, p. 221.50 Ibid.51 G. B. Warden, "Inequality and Instability in Eighteenth Century Boston,"

Journal of Interdisciplinary History 6 (1976): 600.52 See James A. Henretta, "Economic and Social Structure in Colonial

Boston" William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd ser., 22 (1965): 75-92; Gary B.Nash, "Urban Wealth and Poverty in Pre-Revolutionary America," Journalof Interdisciplinary History 6 (1976): 545-84; Alan Kulikoff, "The Progress ofInequality in Revolutionary Boston," William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd ser.,28 (1971): 375-412.

53 Nash, pp. 576-7; G. B. Warden, Boston 1689-1776 (Boston, 1970), p. 103;Warden, "Inequality," p. 589.

54 Nash, p. 577; Warden, Boston, p. 128.55 Warden, "Inequality," pp. 589-91; Nash, pp. 576-7.56 Warden, "Inequality," p. 591. Exchange of local currency to sterling went

from 8 percent in 1750 to 75 percent by 1777.57 See Warden, Boston, pp. 149-50.58 Rossiter, Seedtime of the Republic, p. 93.59 Obviously, Chauncy and Mayhew were more than just observers. Their

experiences among these congregations were very important in shapingtheir own ideas about religion and society.

60 Records of the First Church in Boston, 1630-1868, ed. Richard D. Pierce,Publications of the Colonial Society of Massachusetts, 39 (Boston, 1961),p. 123.

61 James Spear Loring, The Hundred Boston Orators (Boston, 1853), p. 10.62 See Walter Muir Whitehill, Boston: A Topographical History (Cambridge,

Mass., 1963), p. 25.63 Ibid., p. 26.64 Some Cursory Remarks Made by James Birket in His Voyage to North America

1730-1751 (New Haven, Conn., 1916), pp. 20-1.65 See "Records of West Church, Boston, Massachusetts," New England His-

torical and Genealogical Register 91 (1937): 340.66 Ibid., pp. 340-1. See also Annie Haven Thwing, The Crooked and Narrow

Streets of the Town of Boston (Boston, 1920), pp. 203-4.67 Dr. Alexander Hamilton, Gentleman's Progress: The Itinerarium of Dr. Alex-

ander Hamilton, ed. Carl Bridenbaugh (Chapel Hill, 1948), p. 109.68 Ibid.69 Akers, p. 45; Thwing, pp. 203-10.70 George E. Ellis, "Address of George E. Ellis, D.D. LL.D.," The West

Church, Boston: Commemorative Services (Boston, 1887), p. 53.

H4 NOTES TO PP. 98-100

71 Akers, pp. 54, 53.72 See Appendix, "Status of Members of First Church and West Church."73 Both congregations included persons who had greatly increased their

wealth over a period of several decades. One such case is that of John Gill ofWest Church. Gill inherited 59 pounds in 1735, a sum that placed him nohigher than the bottom third of the economic order. By 1771 he hadincreased his wealth to 926 pounds and had risen to the top 5 percent ofBoston property owners. Similar examples can be found for First Churchmembers. Richard Salter received only 5 pounds in 1750, following thedeath of his mother. By 1771 he was listed in the top 10 percent of propertyowners with a wealth of 760 pounds. His uncle, John Salter, inherited 7pounds in 1720, a sum that ranked him in the bottom third of propertyowners. By 1771 John had accumulated wealth of 1,163 pounds, enough toplace him at the very top of the social order. The 73 pounds that SamuelDoggett inherited in 1747 ranked him squarely in the middle third ofproperty owners. By 1771 he had risen to the top 12 percent, with propertytotaling 315 pounds. See Suffolk County Probate Records, 32:256-7, 304;43:212-13, 489; 22:129-30; 41:99-100. All wealth figures are given inpounds sterling, so as to account for inflation of the currency and thusavoid making a distorted comparison. I have used the tables in Warden("Inequality," p. 599) to determine economic rank on the basis of probateinventories. I have also used the figures in Warden (p. 591) to convertpounds Massachusetts to pounds sterling.

74 The impact that life on West Forty-fifth Street made upon Rauschenbuschis well known and is often referred to by Rauschenbusch himself. In theintroduction to Christianity and the Social Crisis (New York, 1913)Rauschenbusch wrote:

I have written this book to discharge a debt. For eleven years I waspastor among the working people on the West Side of New YorkCity. I shared their life as well as I then knew, and used up the earlystrength of my life in their service. . . . If this book in some far-offway helps to ease the pressure that bears them down and increasesthe forces that bear them up, I shall meet the Master of my life withbetter confidence, (p. xv)

75 Lippy suggests that the' Chauncys were closely linked to the Sewallsthroughout the eighteenth century. This linkage included marriage (p. 4).

76 Arthur O. Lovejoy, The Great Chain of Being: A Study of the History of anIdea (Cambridge, Mass., 1936).

77 Ibid.78 Two Sermons on the Nature; p. 28.79 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 12.80 Ibid., p. 54.81 Ibid., p. 55.82 Expected Dissolution, p. 12.83 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 81.84 Seven Sermons, p. 127.85 Civil Magistrates, p. 8.

NOTES TO PP. 100-106 H5

86 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 157.87 Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 70.88 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 15989 Ibid., p, 86.90 Ibid., p. 191.91 Ibid., p. 80.92 Ibid., p. 108.93 Ibid., p. n o .94 Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 31.95 Benevolence of the Deity, p. i n .96 Seven Sermons, p. 33.97 Quoted in Lovejoy, p. 257.98 Ibid., p. 258.99 See Lovejoy, esp. p. 242.

100 Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 60.101 Ibid., pp. 60-1.102 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 113. Chauncy wondered if a divine plan that

gave persons fully matured faculties instead of faculties that needed to bedeveloped "would . . . have discovered greater benevolence than is discoveredin the method that now takes place?" He replied that it would not, because"putting intellectual attainments into the power of creatures themselves, in agood measure, making them possible only of due care and diligence, is thebest adapted of any method" (ibid., pp. n6-17) .

103 Ibid., p. 156.104 Edmund Morgan, ed., Puritan Political Ideas (New York, 1965), p. xxxvi.

Observations on the concordance between social theory and "cosmic" the-ory can be found in Durkheim and Mauss and in Douglas.

105 William Perkins, in Morgan, p. 51.106 Perry Miller, ed., The American Puritans: Their Prose and Poetry (New York,

1956), p. 116.107 William Hubbard, "The Happiness of a People" (1676), in ibid., p. 119.108 Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 81.109 Ibid., p. 33.n o See Kramnick, pp. 100-4.i n Two Sermons on the Nature, p. 34. If the good of the individual and the good

of the species had to "go together," it followed that the good of the individ-ual and the good of society were also closely related. In Seven SermonsMayhew wrote: "Publick happiness is increased no farther than the happinessof individuals is so" (p. 127).

112 Seven Sermons, p. 128.113 As Mayhew wrote, regarding spiritual advancement, "I suppose, it means

advancing towards this day, by running our Christian race swiftly, withutmost diligence; and making progress in holiness" (Expected Dissolution, p.46).

114 Seven Sermons, p. 128.115 Gifts of the Spirit, p. 16.116 Ibid., p. 17.117 Ibid., p. 26.

i46 NOTES TO PP. 106-111

118 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 57.119 Ibid., p. 58.120 Ibid.121 Idle-Poor, p. 11.122 Ibid., p. 14.123 Ibid., p. 16.124 Ibid., p. 11.125 Christian Sobriety, p. 274.

CONCLUSION

1 Benevolence of the Deity, p. 83.2 Huntington Library collection, Sermon II, March 1750, p. 6.3 Sermon Delivered at Nassau Hall, p. 32.4 One way of identifying the "religious" quality of the ideas of Chauncy and

Mayhew is to point to their stress upon mystery and their reliance uponimagination in conceptualizing the "hidden balance." Another approach todiscussing the religious character of the thought of Chauncy and Mayhewmight be drawn from the work of Victor Turner. Turner's work suggeststhat religion is often associated with the perception of liminality - the "be-twixt and between" - in a culture. Chauncy's and Mayhew's consistentemphasis upon "mediums," balance, and elements that are "coincident andmutually imply each other" might be taken as one expression of their re-ligious worldview. See Turner, p. 97.

5 In the wider view of things, such attempts at a "balanced" or "value-free"sociology as Chauncy and Mayhew made were, finally, taxonomic andtherefore essentially conservative. See Alvin W. Gouldner, The Coming Cri-sis of Western Sociology (New York, 1970). For a suggestive analysis of "lib-eralism" (at least partly appropriate to Chauncy and Mayhew) in Americanhistory, see Louis Hartz, The Liberal Tradition in America (New York, 1955),esp. pp. 3-66.

6 Twentieth-century historians often have trouble understanding the eigh-teenth-century belief that cosmic order was based upon a principle of dialec-tics that could never be fully grasped by the human mind. A suggestivedeconstructionist analysis of the differences between twentieth-century his-torical writing and the writing of eighteenth-century clergy, with remarkson how such differences may have affected historiography, can be found inR. C. De Prospo, Theism in the Discourse of Jonathan Edwards (Cranbury,N.J., 1985).

7 A colleague in liberalism who, though Tory, was also important in theBoston area was the Reverend Ebenezer Gay. See Robert J. Wilson HI, TheBenevolent Deity: Ebenezer Gay and the Rise of Rational Religion in New En-gland, i6g6-i78j (Philadelphia, 1984).

8 See Chauncy, "Eminent Men"; Griffin, p. 94.9 Akers, pp. 175—6.

10 Chauncy's letters to Price can be found in W. Bernard Peach and D. O.Thomas, eds., The Correspondence of Richard Price (Durham, N.C., 1983).

NOTES TO PP. 111-117 147

11 Akers, pp. 143, 177.12 Ibid., p. 191.13 Chauncy and Mayhew were coorganizers of the Society for Propagating

Christian Knowledge among the Indians of North America.14 Griffin, pp. 131—2; Thomas Bradbury Chandler, An Appeal to the Public, in

Behalf of the Church of England in America (New York, 1767); Chauncy, TheAppeal to the Public Answered, in Behalf of the Non-Episcopal Churches in Amer-ica (Boston, 1768).

15 Henry F. May, The Enlightenment in America (New York, 1976), p. 352.16 Clifford Geertz, "Ideology As a Cultural System" in David E. Apter, ed.

Ideology and Discontent (New York, 1964), pp. 47-76. Robert E. Shalhopehas pointed out the usefulness of Geertz's ideas to those historians who areinterested in developing fresh perspectives on interpretation of early Ameri-can republicanism. See "Republicanism and Early American Historiogra-phy," William and Mary Quarterly, 3rd ser., 39 (1982): 334-56.

17 Two exceptions are Cushing Strout, The New Heavens and the New Earth:Political Religion in America (New York, 1974) and Nathan O. Hatch, TheSacred Cause of Liberty: Republican Thought and the Millennium in RevolutionaryNew England (New Haven, 1977). Hatch's introduction includes a perceptiveanalysis of the problems that historians have faced (or perhaps created) inattempting to understand the nature of the relationship between politics andreligion in the eighteenth century.

18 Henry May's observations that "correct principles in religion were insepara-bly linked to correct principles of politics" among Federalists, and that thereligion of the New England Federalists was "descended directly from themid-eighteenth century Enlightenment views of Chauncy and Mayhew" arefully understandable only when we recognize the ground-breaking roleplayed by Chauncy and Mayhew in formulating a comprehensive ideologyrooted in the notion of balance. See May, p. 257.

APPENDIX

1 Sometimes dismissals to other churches are recorded. However, the depar-tures of persons from the church are not all dismissals. Sometimes namessimply disappear from the records with no clues as to where the personshave gone, or even if they are still alive. Funeral records are incomplete.

2 Ezra Stiles, The Literary Diary of Ezra Stiles, cited in Records of First Church,p. xliii.

3 Akers believes that West Church, during the pastorate of Jonathan Mayhew,served about two hundred families, of which seventy-five were members (p.58).

4 I assume that if the person was in Boston in 1771 and his name appeared inthe church records in the 1750s and/or 1760s, then he was a member. Theyear 1765 is only a rough date. Obviously, by relying on the 1771 list Imight have missed some persons who died or left Boston in the late 1760s.However, I have been able to find names of church members that do notappear on the 1771 list in the Boston city records. Sometimes I have found a

148 NOTES TO PP. 117-119

name listed as an officeholder, at other times in the 1760 fire records, at othertimes just slipped in at odd points in the city records. Clifford K. Shipton,Sibley's Harvard Graduates, vol. 8 (Boston, 1951), has been of some help. Indetermining church members ' property ownership from the 1771 list, I havenot included any information about a person if the name appeared more thanonce on the list. In a few cases, other information that I had about a person'sfinances has made possible a determination of which of the two or threenames in Boston was the name I was looking for. In general, I have notattempted to ascertain which members were active in church services and/orchurch administration. Some persons whom I have identified as membersmay have been members in name only, and may have entered the buildingonly for the baptism of a child (though the records of both churches list casesin which church discipline was enforced against the wayward). In short, it ispossible, even likely, that some of the persons I have identified as churchmembers did not participate in church life enough to be counted a significantinfluence upon the character of the congregation as a whole (and thereforeupon Chauncy and Mayhew).

5 See "Tax and Valuation Lists - 1771," Massachusetts Archives, State House,Boston, 132 (1771), pp. 92-147.

6 See above, n. 4.7 Boston Records Commission, A Volume of Records Relating to the Early Histo-

ry of Boston, vol. 29 of Reports of the Boston Records Commissioners (31 vols.,Boston, 1900), p. 94.

8 Ibid., p. 97. He lost property valued at 27 pounds.9 See William Pencak, "The Social Structure of Revolutionary Boston: Evi-

dence from the Great Fire of 1760," Journal of Interdisciplinary History 2(1972): 274; also Warden, "Inequality," pp. 606-7. See also Henretta,"Economic and Social Structure," p. 85, for a contrary view. There has beenconsiderable debate about the reliability of the 1771 list. The debate hascentered on the accuracy of its picture of the distribution of wealth. Nev-ertheless, Warden believes that though the list presents many problems, acareful use of it can provide a glimpse of wealth distribution. See "Ineq-uality," p. 605. Warden frames his argument as a direct response to Henret-ta, Kulikoff, and Lockridge, who argue - to one degree or another - forincreasing stratification in Boston in the mid eighteenth century. Wardenbelieves that the assessments in the 1771 list ought to be considered under-estimations by as much as 50 percent. He also believes that the distributioncurve is skewed to make the large property holders appear richer than theyreally were (that is, he opposes Henretta's plotting of the curve). See esp. pp.588 n. 6, 604-5. Gary Nash suggests that the biases in the 1771 list canceleach other out, and that in fact the list does provide an approximate under-standing of the distribution of wealth in Boston. See Nash, p. 550 n. 10.Pencak's invocation of the Great Fire records as a means of discrediting the1771 list is weak. See Pencak, p. 274. Though scholars are no longer contentto use the 1771 list uncritically to discover something about the distributionof wealth in Boston, Henretta's figures are still fairly accurate for determin-

NOTES TO PP. 122-124 149

ing property ownership for the upper 12 percent of the population. Drawingon Henretta's figures for the breakdown of Boston wealth into ownershippercentages, we can specify the qualification for inclusion of a person in theupper 10 percent of property owners in Boston in 1771. According toHenretta's figures, any person with a total taxable wealth of 600 pounds ormore belonged in the top 9.6 percent of all the taxpayers on the list. Thisfigure includes both the assessed annual worth of real estate and the value ofpersonal property. Not included in the totals for each person are the valuesof his servants for life, tons of vessels, feet of wharf, and other kinds ofproperty recorded in the tax list. See Henretta, "Economic and Social Struc-ture," p. 82, and the notes to Table 3, above.

10 Pencak shows that the fire figures are much lower than probate inventoriesfor 1759-61 (p. 272). Warden shows that probate value at the end of the1750s was approximate to that of the early 1770s ("Inequality," pp. 591,619).

11 Shipton, 8:61. This source does not give currency exchange rate.12 The chi-square test of statistical significance, when applied to these figures,

showed that the chances are 1 in 1,000 that 23 of 69 persons would be worthmore than 400 pounds when in the city of Boston only 185 of 1,546 on the1771 list were worth 400 pounds or more. For the West Church figures, thetest showed a .05 level of significance, or a 5 in 100 chance.

13 Akers, p. 53.14 Cook, esp. chaps. 1 and 2.15 Henretta, "Economic and Social Structure," p. 90. Henretta makes exagger-

ated claims about the "nearly perfect" correlation of wealth with level ofofficeholding. He projects correlations on limited data. For example, heattempts to match the office of fireward with high economic rank when, infact, data from the 1771 list to support his argument are available for only sixof seventeen firewards.

16 Ibid. For the nine of eleven persons who were named as overseers of thepoor in 1771 for whom data is available, eight rank in the top 7 percent ofproperty owners. Two others, Roy all Tyler and Joseph Waldo, were alsoknown to have been quite rich. See Robert F. Seybolt, The Town Officials ofColonial Boston 1634—1775 (Cambridge, Mass., 1939).

17 Boston Records Commission, A Volume of Records, p. 100.18 Warden, "Inequality," p. 619; see also Nash.19 See A Report of the Record Commissioners of the City of Boston (Boston, 1887),

18:34.20 Seybolt; William H. Whitmore, The Massachusetts Civil List for the Colonial

and Provincial Periods 1630—1774 (Albany, 1870).21 A Report of the Record Commissioners of the City of Boston, 18:2.22 Ibid.23 Whitmore, p. 64.24 Seybolt; Shipton, 8:546 and 8:43. Allen was a representative from

Marblehead.25 Shipton believes that the school inspection committees were generally pres-

150 NOTES TO PP. 124-125

tigious groups. Town auditors had the task of auditing the accounts of thetreasurer and the overseers of the poor, and the office was almost alwaysfilled by wealthy men.

26 Cook, p. 43.27 See Seybolt.28 For Quincy see Shipton, 15:479-91; quote is from p. 486. For Gridley see

Shipton, 7:518-30; quote is from p. 518.29 See Shipton, 8:220-30. Dowry is in pounds Mass.30 Henry R. Viets, A Brief History of Medicine in Massachusetts (Boston, 1930),

pp. 75, 81.31 John Henry Cary, Joseph Warren: Physician, Politician, Patriot (Urbana, 111.,

1961), p. 27.32 First Church: John Cunningham, Samuel Austin, Bartholomew Rand, John

Leverett, Thomas Leverett, Joseph Green, John Salter, Joseph Russel,Richard Salter, William Scott, Caleb Blanchard, Jonathan Williams, WilliamBlair Townsend, Benjamin Austin, Samuel Doggett, John Hunt III, WilliamGray, Jonathan Williams, Jr., Middlecott Cooke, William Torrey, RuthParrot, Edward Jackson, Nathaniel Thwing, Byfield Lyde, Nathaniel Bal-ston, Jeremiah Green, John Wendell, Joseph Lee, Samuel Pemberton, Sam-uel Partridge, Josiah Quincy.

33 West Church: Isaac Winslow, Job Prince, Joseph Scott, Meletiah Bourne,John Gill, Capt. Martin Gay, Joseph Henderson, Sam Alleyne Otis, SamuelEliot, the widow Winslow, Thomas Walley, John Gore, Benjamin Kent,Capt. Isaac Philips, Lewis Gray, William Smith, Samuel Waldo, ThomasFlucker, Henderson Inches, Harrison Gray, Thomas Green, JeremiahGridley, Miles Whitworth.

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Index

Adams, John, 6, 81, noAkers, Charles W., xiii, 21, 97-8, 12611.6Alan, Joseph Henry, I26n.6

Bailyn, Bernard, 61, 74, 81, I26n.4,I4on. 123

balance, 19, 22, 25, 30, 40-1, 43, 51, 53,55-6, 75, 77-8, 84, 85, 106, 107, 113

Baldwin, Alice, x, 63benevolence, 82—4Bergson, Henri, 7, 129^23Bolingbroke, Henry St. John, 3, 61, 65,

7O-3, 74Boston, Great Fire of 1760, 11Boyle, Robert, xi, 75Bradford, Alden, I26n.6, 142^25Bradford, William, 25Buel, Richard, Jr., 13Burke, Kenneth, 41Burnet, Thomas, xiBushman, Richard L., 27, 37, 60Butler, Jon, I28n.7

Chandler, Thomas Bradbury, i nChauncy, Charles: Appeal to the Public An-

swered, i n ; Benevolence of the Deity, 23,106, I45n. 102; Civil Magistrates, 64, 74;Enthusiasm Describ'd, 15; Five Disserta-tions, 23; Gijis oftheSpirit, 105; Mar-vellous Things, 16; Ministers Cautioned,32; Mystery Hid, 23; Out-pouring of theHoly Ghost, 50; Seasonable Thoughts, 15,31, 50; Trust in God, 16; Twelve Ser-

mons, 15; An Unbridled Tongue, 16; Va-lidity of Presbyterian Ordination, i n

Clarke, Samuel, xi, 33, 34-5, 52Colman, Benjamin, 35Cook, Edward M., Jr., 81, 124"country," political theory of, 3, 4Counts, Martha L., 64

Davenport, James, 2, 18, 32Davies, Samuel, 57, 108Day, John, 86De Prospo, R. C , I46n.6dialectic, 19, 42, 45, 51, 54, 58, 75, 79,

107, 109Dickinson, Jonathan, 29drama, 51Durkheim, Emile, I27n.i2, 144^104

earthquakes, 12, 13, 16-7Edwards, Jonathan, 2, 27, 28, 32, 54-5,

56, noEliot, Andrew, 114Enlightenment, xi, 2, 14

First Church, ix, xii, 19, 96-7Frelinghuysen, Theodore, 2Frothingham, Ebenezer, 54

Gaustad, Edwin S., 32Gay, Ebenezer, 36Gay, Peter, 134^97God, "governor of world," 16-17Geertz, Clifford, 112

159

16o INDEX

Gouldner, Alvin W., I46n.5Gray, Harrison, 20, 97, 13 in.2Great Awakening, 2, 57, 60Great Chain of Being, 74, 98-103, 105,

109Griffin, Edward M., xiii, 23, I26n.6,

13m.18

Half-way Covenant, 26Haller, William, 55-6Hambricke-Stowe, Charles E., I32n.28Haroutunian, Joseph, x, I26n.6Harrington, James, 61, 65-7, 73Hatch, Nathan, 127m 6Heimert, Alan, xii, 57, I26n.5Henretta, James, 122hidden order, of divine plan, 12, 14, 17—

18, 108, 113Hoadly, Benjamin, 70, 74Hollis, Thomas, m

Independent Reflector, 59—60intuition, 85

Jackson, Joseph, 1Jarratt, Devereux, 86Johnson, Mark, 20Jones, James W., I26n.5

Kammen, Michael, 1King George's War, 95Kirby, John B., 73Knappen, M. M., 25Koch, G. Adolf, I27n.6Kramnick, Isaac, 74

Lakoff, George, 20Levin, David, I32n.28Lippy, Charles H., xiii, I27n.6Locke, John, xi, 3, 33, 34, 63, 65, 67, 77Lovejoy, Arthur O., 99, 102

Maier, Pauline, I37n.ioMain, Jackson Turner, 4—5, 87, 90, 94Mather, Cotton, 26, 35May, Henry, 112, I47n. 18Mayhew, Experience, 35Mayhew, Jonathan: Christian Sobriety, 31,

44; Unlimited Submission, 74, 80, no;Expected Dissolution, 12; Popish Idolatry,

61; Private Judgement, 36; Sermons on theFollowing Subjects, 22-3, 92; Seven Ser-mons, 22, 51—2, i n ; Snare Broken, 62,63, 88; Stiving to Enter In at the StraitGate, 91; Two Sermons on the Nature,Extent and Perfection of Divine Goodness,9, 78, 106

metaphor, 41, 51, 103, 106Middlekauff, Robert, I32n.28Miller, John C , I26n.5Miller, Perry, xi, 24, 25, 35, 103Milton, John, 61, 67-8, 70Molasses Act, 95Moles worth, Robert, 61, 69-70, 73Moore, Frank, I26n.4Morais, Herbert M., I26n.6Morgan, Edmund, 103Murrin, John M., I28n.7mutual dependency (in ideas of Chauncy

and Mayhew), 20, 24, 43, 46, 47, 48,56, 58, 63, 64-5, 78

Neville, Henry, 61, 66—7Newton, Isaac, xi, 13, 74

Oliver, Peter, ix

Paine, Robert Treat, 6Parker, Samuel, xiParsons, Jonathan, 29Pascal, Blaise, 21, 30, 82Pencak, William, I48n.9Perkins, William, 24, 103Pessen, Edward, 5Pocock, J. G. A., 61, 66-7Pole, J. R., I28n.i5Pope, Robert G., I32n.28Price, Richard, i n

Quakers, 87, 93

Rauschenbusch, Walter, 144^74Ray, John, xiRobbins, Caroline, 61Robie, Thomas, xiRossiter, Clinton, 86, 93, I27n.6

Savelle, Max, I26n.4Seeker, Archbishop Thomas, i n

INDEX 161

Seven Years War, 95Sewall, Joseph, xiiSewall, Samuel, 86Sewall, Stephen, 20Shalhope, Robert E., I47n.i6Shy, John, 4Sibley's Harvard Graduates, 117Sidney, Algernon, 61, 68, 70Simpson, Alan, 25Stamp Act, 95Stiles, Ezra, 114Stout, Harry S., I32n.28

Tennent, Gilbert, 2, 32, 55Thornton, John W., I26n.4Tillotson, Archbishop John, xi, 33-4Trenchard, John (and Thomas Gordon),

3, 60, 61

Townsend, Rebecca, xiTurner, Victor, I27n.i2, I28n.3

Van Tyne, C , I26n.4

Warden, G. B., 94, 122-3West Church, ix, xii, 19, 20, 96, 97-8Whigs, 3, 60-1, 69, 72Whitefield, George, 2, 29, 54, 56Whitby, Daniel, xiWigglesworth, Edward, xi, xii, 82Wilson, Robert J., I46n.7Winthrop, John, xiWood, Gordon, 1Woodward, John, xiWright, Conrad, 45, 75, 112, I26n.5

Zenger, Peter, 60

the hidden balance: religion and the social theories of charles chauncy and jonathan mayhew

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