© Scott David Foutz
Standing just antecedent to the commencement of the great American experiment stands Roger Williams whose ideas and writing have not ceased to inspire, provoke and challenge readers past and present. More than a century before those now revered statesmen penned into existence the fundamental documents of our democratic state Williams preached here and abroad the necessity for freedom of conscience and church-state separation. Of the aim of his message and the reaction it provoked among his contemporaries there is little debate. Rather, of varying degrees of interest among historians over the years has been the origin of William's seemingly prophetic message and the actual scope of his influence, with particular reference to founding fathers Jefferson and Madison.
This essay will briefly examine representative treatments of Williams, his thought and influence, and will seek to demonstrate that a multi-origin view provides the most accurate analysis of Williams. This proposal is made, however, with full recognition of the overall inadequacy of the essay in dealing with the subject matter in its full array of details. And yet I press onward with the confidence that an appeal to the works of Williams' and the contributions of modern scholarship will make this thesis at least plausible.
These two foci of origin and scope have in most treatments of Williams become a single causal continuum whereby origin (whatever one's view may be) naturally, if not necessarily, implies a particular scope of influence. Treatments of this continuum type generally propose a single-origin theory and conclude with Williams' scope limited to any and all audience sharing beliefs common to that origin. Thus, depending on the nature of the original source, Williams' audience will appear quite broad or insignificantly small. (1) Two representatives of the continuum approach, the social and the realistic will be examined and critiqued.
An alternative to continuum types is what I will term the conjunctive, and appears to be the predominant method of choice among Baptistic treatments of Roger Williams. Thus, this approach is often identified as the Baptistic interpretation. However, as my intent is located in a better methodological understanding (rather than the location of a particular method), the term conjunctive will better suit my purposes.
The conjunctive, like continuum types, will propose a single-origin for Williams' thought, namely, Calvinism in the anabaptistic context. Its conjunctive nature lies in the fact that despite this single origin Williams' scope of influence is seen to also include audiences which, from most appearances, would not naturally or necessarily share. In particular, conjunctive approaches must establish a bridge of dependency between an earlier and purely theological origin of idea and a later seemingly naturalistic understanding. Although the conjunctive approach also assumes a certain degree of continuation or dependency (and in this way are not unlike the continuum types), a major difference between these two is that the entire conjunctive project hinges upon its ability to identify and defend a non-apparent dependency. Continuum theories avoid this extra burden of proof by limiting the scope of influence to those audiences already sharing the similar views with Williams.
Conjunctive (Baptistic) scholars tend to attempt demonstrations of ideological dependency through mediary figures such as Isaac Backus or John Leland who, though contemporaries and close acquaintances of the founding fathers, held religious convictions very similar to Williams'. Other conjunctive scholars will simply attempt to demonstrate a direct dependency of later thinkers upon Williams.
A third alternative is what I will simply call the multi-origin type. In contrast to the previous two approaches, this view proposes more than a single origin of Williams' ideas and thus immediately broadens the scope of influence by increasing the number of possible ideologically diverse audiences naturally sympathetic to his position. The multi-origin approach differs from the others also in its explicit acknowledgment that both theological and what I will term naturalistic elements are operating significantly in the development of Williams' thought. The burden of this approach lies in demonstrating the presence of such naturalistic elements and establishing their significance as being greater than a normal level of influence found by their presence within any reasoned theological enterprise. That is to say, a simple demonstration of Williams' use of reason and logic will not constitute the desired significance since all endeavors, theological and otherwise, necessarily employ these elements to various degrees.
Williams indeed uses certain methods, but for Williams these methods are grounded in sources of truth and knowledge (2). Thus, typological and exegetical methods stem from Williams' use of Scripture as a reliable source of truth and knowledge. The question before the multi-origin proponent is then this: What other source(s) and subsequent method(s) does Williams draw from and utilize in his understanding and presentation of the necessity of freedom of conscience? This essay will propose that Williams' own observation of humanity and by extension human history provides an additional source of truth and knowledge which parallels the theological in significance. But before attempting to defend this thesis it will benefit us to briefly examine first two representatives of the continuum type and then the conjunctive.
Continuum Approaches
The old adage "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" perhaps holds no less truly than in the many appraisals given Roger Williams by contemporary historians. More often than not it is quite apparent, and often understandable, that such appraisals have at their core a desire to attribute to Williams either a place of prominence or obscurity due to some anterior disposition. One such recent disposition of historical scholarship was that of a more or less anti-Puritanism. This widely embraced disposition was characterized by the strong determination to locate the historical development of currently more noble ideological principles in any source other than that of the English or American established church. Roger Williams, that irrepressible spokesman of freedom of conscience in the face of the Puritan Massachusetts Bay Colony, became an irresistible figure for such historiography.
Treatments abounded in which Williams was distanced further and further from his 17th century Puritan context only to be anachronistically placed in contemporary ideological categories. Here historian H. B. Parkes serves as a good example by claiming Williams' true merit can only be appreciated "if one looks at him from the 20th Century" while at the same time proclaiming rival John Cotton as "unintelligible except to those who approach him by way of the Middle Ages". (3) This type of scholarship proposes a significant ideological gap between Williams and his contemporaries and suggests that the historian must approach Williams only through the hindsight of modernity. This results not only in poor history but also a wild subjectivity in attribution once such historical parameters are displaced. Selective reading of Williams' works and a dedication to the anti-Puritan disposition resulted in a school of thought whose central claim was that "the cast of [Williams] thought was social rather than theological,... his true place in American thought has been long obscured by the ecclesiastical historians". (4)
This, then, represents for us a social species of the continuum type. From this single social origin proceeds the potential for attributing to Williams a vast array of theories ranging from rationalism to transcendentalism. In other words, the non-theological nature of Williams' message allows for a seminal role in the myriad non-theological ideologies which follow. From this basic assumption resulted quite enthusiastic descriptions of Williams as the father of modern ideology, such as this passage from J.E. Ernst's discussion of Williams' George Fox digg'd out of his Burrowes:
If true, this would indeed make Williams a formidable figure of the horizon of history, or as others have described him, an irrepressible democrat, the spokesman of modern humanism and individualism, and a thorough-going sceptic. But academic consensus eventually deemed such historiography as neither critical nor responsible and clearly indicative of, as we have said, anterior ideological motives. The increase of such criticism, along with gains in a more objective understanding of Puritanism through continued scholarship generated an overall academic climate in which anti-Puritan historiography no longer so freely flourished, although not until it had made significant gains at the popular level.
With the rise a new, more responsible scholarship in the area of historical Puritanism there arose refreshed efforts at critical evaluations of its influence on American thought. A new self-proclaimed realistic historiographical approach emerged which, in the study of Roger Williams, proceeded to attack obvious deficiencies of the previous social approach and presented a more thorough consideration of the theological nature of his thought and writings. Included in this effort are such scholars as Edwin Gaustad, Perry Miller, Mauro Calamandrei, and LeRoy Moore.
Isaac Backus (by no means a contemporary historian), living around 100 years after Williams was the first historian to really examine and evaluate the latter's impact on New England. Backus' objective A History of New England with Particular Reference to the Baptists (6) traces the development of New England, with particular reference to the significance and interaction of individuals belonging within the Baptistic tradition (as the title implies!). It is here that "Mr. Williams" and his writings are highlighted, making it clear that Backus considers him a central figure in the development of New England along the lines of religious freedom, and places his loosely within the Baptistic tradition.
This ideological possession of Williams by Backus prompted Edwin Gaustad to suggest that Backus' desired to regard himself and his fellow Baptists as the heirs of both Williams' ideas and of the Puritanism (7) of John Robinson of Holland, another figure given significant place in the History. (8) Gaustad supported this thesis with extensive scholarship in the works of both Backus and Williams, which has provided a foundation and trend of scholarship embraced to one degree or another by most historians.
However, it would be this same thesis which eventually leads to a parting of the ways between the realistic historians and other historians This parting stems from the degree to which the realistic historians will contain Williams' influence to the Puritan community. Although Gaustad himself saw clearly a discrepancy between Williams and his Puritan contemporaries, but chooses to employ a concept of transcendence, a language which allows Williams to appear to be both a Puritan and beyond Puritanism at the same time (9).
In line with Gaustad's thesis and emphasis on scholarship is the work of Mauro Calamandrei (10), whose work is characterized by a critique of the weaknesses of past social historiographical efforts and a careful exposition of Williams' theology. Calamandrei agrees with Gaustad that Williams is thoroughly Puritan and views his political theories as stemming from his Puritan theology. (11) Although leaving open the possibility of more naturalistic influences upon Williams' thought, Calamandrei's entire treatment proceeds with this thesis:
In light of the trend of social history, this thesis is to be lauded in its conservatism. But in its protection against over-attribution, Calamandrei in effect ends with only one attribute - Puritan. It is clear from the previous discussion why Calamandrei excludes such attributes as humanist, rationalist, optimist, renaissance man, etc. But in denying Williams the attribute of democratic Baptist, although possibly in many cases an overloaded term, Calamandrei also sets himself up against the conjunctive (Baptistic) treatment, as we will see.
Without going into a detailed analysis of Calamandrei's work, and without the intent of detracting from the high level of scholarship he presents, it is, however, necessary to point out two important elements missing from his treatment of Williams. First, Calamandrei all but ignores Williams intense conflict with (Puritan) John Cotton, a conflict central to the quality and condition of Williams' existence in the New World. It was Cotton more than any other who was instrumental in causing Williams to be locally where he was at any given time, whether it be Providence, with the Natives in the wilderness, or defending himself within the Bay Colony. This dynamic between Williams and Cotton is central to understanding the events of the former's life. Yet this entire relationship and conflict is passed over by Calamandrei. Though aware of the history, the occasion for much of Williams work, he is content to simply assure the reader: "When Roger Williams argued with the founders of the Massachusetts Bay Colony he took for granted their common platform". (13) The context of this statement is within a comparison of the nature of Williams writings to Puritans and to Quakers, with the intent of demonstrating that Williams saw the Quakers as primary antagonist. Yet apart from this statement, no other direct reference is made to the conflict between Cotton and Williams or the discrepancy in beliefs it demonstrated.
By overlooking this discrepancy, Calamandrei also overlooks an event which is perhaps the most important event of Williams life: the Exile. The experience of being cast out of civilization and into the hostility of the wilderness proved to be an event which forever changed Williams' spirituality, view of the world and personal reliance upon God's providence. This entire event came at the hand of John Cotton, and stemmed from significant differences between the two. This event cannot be minimized for the simple fact that it again and again enters into Williams' writings, not merely as a theme for gaining self-pity or sympathetic audience, but as the basis of arguments for the universality of conscience, legitimacy of secular state polity, and the insufficiency of the organized church. In overlooking this experience Calamandrei overlooks not only the severity of Williams' disagreement with Cotton but also an enormous experience granting Williams an unique and unparalleled opportunity for naturalistic contemplation.
Calamandrei does not venture to make any conclusions regarding the scope of Williams' influence other than stressing the thoroughly Puritan and theological nature of the latter's ideas, "that Williams' political thought must be considered within his intellectual frame of reference, which was primarily theological and religious" (14). Given Calamandrei's initial thesis, we end up with Williams' being completely contained within Puritan tradition, with no mention of any other plausible source for his ideas, and the conclusion that Williams' thought belongs primarily to the theological and religious frame of reference.
It is here neither intended nor desired to question the degree to which Williams depends on theology and religion, but rather the characteristic limitation placed upon him in such 'realistic' histories. Gaustad and Calamandrei, though reasonably careful in their approaches to maintain objectivity, nonetheless, due to their omission of any elements of non-theological significance, lay the first stepping stones from which Williams' social irrelevance will be proclaimed. A proclamation to which we now turn.
Perhaps the individual most responsible for delivering the works of Williams to the modern reader is Perry Miller through his popular Roger Williams: His Contribution to the American Tradition (15) Miller's work combines his own biography of Williams with edited portions of Williams' more central writings. Miller acknowledges the impact of Calamandrei (16) on his own thinking and is likewise quick to point out the inadequacies of the social historians' treatment of Williams. What interests us at this point is simply the conclusion Miller arrives at regarding Williams' "contribution to the American tradition".
Miller identifies Williams' typology as the primary characteristic setting him apart from his contemporaries and supports this claim through a well-rounded selection of texts accompanied by his own commentary. It is this same typology, however, which Miller claims serves to set Williams apart from the founding fathers and the entire generation of the Revolution. He asserts: "[Williams] exerted little or no direct influence on theorists of the Revolution and the Constitution, who drew on quite different intellectual sources". (17) I believe here the key term is 'intellectual' for in the following paragraphs Miller describes Williams in the following terms:
Withholding comment on Miller's conclusion for a moment, it is simply striking how polarized the treatments of Williams have become over a relatively short period of time, how stark the difference between Miller and Ernst! In response to Miller two things might be stated. First, it is not simply "typology" which distinguishes Williams from contemporaries (and modern), but rather his insistence on a distinction between a concrete antitype which his contemporary Puritanism had set its heart upon, and a spiritual antitype which Williams was convinced was the only correct means of both erecting a peaceful state and interpreting Scripture. Thus a more thorough analysis of Williams' 'typology' would discern the direction toward which he was intending to pull the church. Was it toward a more progressive and reasonable typology? Or is any typology simply antiquated and obsolete as Miller implies?
Secondly, the notion that typology is indefensible through such fields as textual criticism, historical research and comparative religion is in fact quite incorrect. What can be questioned and remains unverifiable through such fields (and any other) is the entire notion of providential history, the relation of God to history. Historically, typology as a linguistic mode is deeply embedded in pre-Hellenistic Latin and classical Greek and thus finds its way into subsequent Western thought, not least of all the apostolic and patristic authors (19). The distinction Williams draws between the concrete and spiritual natures of the antitype in fact dates back to Plato and Ovid, and later authors such as Tertullian and Augustine (20). It is in fact the anterior assumption of a transcendent Reality of which the historical type is claimed to be a reflection, which more modern scholarship finds difficult. (21)
To return to the discussion of continuum approaches, it will be observed that in both social and realistic histories, a partial view of Williams is offered and in each case this partial view naturally implies a certain scope of influence. In the case of social histories, anachronistic attributions result in an incredible broad field of influence and foreshadowing. In realistic histories, exclusive emphasis upon particular elements of Williams' theological thought such as Puritanism or typology naturally results in ideological isolation from later democratic theorists. Although in my estimation the realistic approach is certainly to be desired above the social, its shortcoming cannot be overlooked. Why, for example, do we find such a pattern among such realistic histories? Is simply due to a conservatism in historical causality which hesitates from placing Williams in too great a contradistinction from his contemporaries? Or is there an implicit holdover from earlier social approaches, namely the assumption that church and state are necessarily separate not only in politics but also in ideological formation?
Conjunctive Approach
The conjunctive or Baptistic approach would argue with such a holdover if it in fact exists, and would strongly promote the recognition of the role of Williams' theological ideology in the later formation of political democracy. As we have mentioned, this places a somewhat greater burden of proof upon Baptistic historians, in that they seek to isolate non-apparent causal relations. Although it may very well be that this essay, given its intended audience, ought to hone its focus primarily on the conjunctive approach and formulate a response in particular reference to it, that will not be the case here. Instead, only brief observation is offered as to the strengths and weaknesses of this approach as found in Baptistic historian J. M. Dawson's published response (22) to realistic historian LeRoy Moore. (23)
The conjunctive approach will rely upon its ability to identify strains of dependency between later democratic theorists and Williams. The sources of such discovery seem to be predominantly threefold: Williams' own work, the writings of Isaac Backus (and fellow Baptists of his day), and the writings of the founding fathers. In an article typical of the realistic approach, LeRoy Moore criticizes Baptistic treatments of Williams as stemming from uncritical adoption of social historical research. "This [social] approach has been picked up and baptized by some Baptist interpreters of this history, so much so that it is often regarded as the standard Baptist estimate of the man." (24) He then turns to the three sources characteristic of the Baptists' defense.
As for Williams, Moore stresses that as for "the basis for Williams own plea for liberty of conscience... he did not begin on anthropocentric but on theocentric grounds". (25) Whether this criticism needs to be raised against Baptistic historians is doubtful, but would apply if social historiography were adopted. Moore's point is that Williams thought is to be located solely within a theological framework.
As for Backus, Moore is quick to point out that although Williams figures significantly in Backus' History, he is "almost completely ignored" in Backus' pamphlets on freedom of religion which were being circulated during the democratic formation. Instead, Backus makes repeated reference to the thought of John Locke in delineating his own position.
As for the founding fathers Moore is quick to profess: "There is little question but that Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, the foremost political leaders in the struggle for religious liberty, never read The Bloudy Tenet or anything else by Williams." (26) In this vein Moore concludes with the statement to which Dawson would soon respond, "It was really John Locke, then, rather than Roger Williams who was the principal immediate source for this doctrine of religious liberty that finally prevailed in the formative period of our national history." (27)
Our treatment of the conjunctive view will limit itself to Dawson's response to these three positions in order to identify both strengths and weaknesses of this instance of Baptistic argument. As to Moore's general criticism of Baptists' adoption of social historical treatments and more specifically assigning a primarily anthropological origin to Williams thought, Dawson interestingly pits social historians back against Moore by pointing out that "Moore's theories concerning Williams disagrees with such authorities as George Bancroft, Vernon Louis Parrington, James Brocknunier, and... James Ernst, one of the earlier and abler of the trusted historians." (28) The significance of this response is twofold. First, whereas Moore's initial criticism pertained to Baptistic adoption of social interpretations, Dawson's lengthy response amounts to nothing more than a "so what?". Secondly, and more interestingly, Dawson praises Ernst and by extension those historians Moore clearly judges as irresponsible. Thus, in reference to the previous distinction we have drawn between social and realistic histories, Dawson here unequivocally aligns himself and by extension the Baptistic method with social historians.
Dawson then claims Moore's criticism of social history is invalid as it rests upon inferences drawn from an oversimplified view of Locke as anthropocentric and Williams as theocentric. At this point, Dawson's claim that realistic history operates out of an oversimplified separation of the theological and the natural is supported by the observations we have made thus far. However, his implied contention that, given a correct categorization, social history will be found to be reliable strains plausibility even in an generous environment.
As to the observation that Backus all but "completely ignores" Williams in pamphlets dealing with religious liberty, Dawson has little to say other than that "this silence does indeed somewhat mystify." (29) He attempts to lessen this mystery, however, by quoting T. B. Maston's observation that, "Backus, like many of his contemporaries, was saturated with John Locke... The theories of the latter were so largely the common possession of the people that they became a part of the air people breathed." (30) Dawson then adds, "Naturally in his conflicts with New England's Standing Order, Backus would have little mention of Roger Williams, who was anathema to the Puritan-Congregationalists. That would be true of John Leland also." (31)
This tact, though perhaps a good attempt at piercing the mystifying silence of Backus, does very little to help defend Baptistic historiography. Maston's claim that Locke was as pervasive as oxygen in New England amounts to the claim that Lockean thought was assumed in the entire discussion of religious liberty. One then need only ask what it implies for something to be so assumed and it will be discovered that it implies being embraced as a reliable vehicle of understanding and articulation. Either this is the case, or Dawson is implying Backus simply used the language of his time without intending the corresponding concepts. This however would be a very weak and awkward position to hold since it strikes at the veracity of Backus' writings. The sole solution to this, having gone this far, is to demonstrate Lockean dependence upon Williams, an attempt Dawson does not here make other than pointing to an indirect statement made by Moore himself.
The second tact, namely that Backus would be incapable of progress in the discussion of religious liberty had he used the name of Williams also clearly seems to be a set back for the Baptistic approach. One might argue that had Backus found Williams to be superior to Locke, he would have most certainly mentioned Williams. Williams himself was outspoken in these matters and there is little reason to suppose Backus would avoid confrontation to the point of sacrificing Williams' ideas, if in fact they were for him a primary source of conviction. Forced etiquette seems less likely than that Backus simply found Locke completely adequate for the purpose at hand, and saw no real need to refer to Williams in light of the times and the audience. But to say this is to grant Moore's original contention which Dawson is here attempting to counter. Thus the only reasonable conclusion seems to be that Dawson is proposing a hollow usage of Lockean term for the sake of understandability and expediency.
It is to the last criticism by Moore that Dawson primarily takes aim, namely, the contention that Locke rather than Williams prevails in the minds of the founding fathers. As we have noted, Dawson does not proceed to demonstrate Lockean dependence upon Williams, but rather, attempts to demonstrate that the founding fathers drew principally from Williams as opposed to Locke. In order to accomplish this, Dawson's thesis is two-fold. First, he must demonstrate a greater ideological proximity between the founding fathers and Williams than between them and Locke. And second, he must demonstrate that Jefferson's lack of reference to Williams is not indicative of an absence of dependence.
Dawson compares Williams' notion of full religious liberty with Locke's more general notion of tolerance by noting, "Of course, toleration is a concession by assumed superiors to dissenters, a view hateful to Baptists and to Thomas Jefferson" And else where, "Locke frankly advocated an established church... [and] when he furnished the Carolinas with a constitutional pattern, they adopted an established church, the Anglican." (32) Dawson then attempts to show parallels between Jefferson's formulation of the Declaration of Independence and the Declaration by Roger Williams. Dawson points out that what he presents is the "result of a year's research" in various libraries, and then immediately refers to the fact that Richard Henry Lee was convinced Jefferson copied the entire Declaration from John Locke(!), and that John Adams said that it did not include a single original idea of Jefferson's. Dawson then concludes simply that Jefferson's declaration sounds "strangely" like Williams (33).
On the issue of possible dependence, or more particularly, as to whether or not Jefferson and Madison had actually read Williams' works, Dawson is able to produce somewhat more useful findings. He is able to demonstrate that Jefferson had indeed read John Winthrop's Journal of Transactions and Occurrences in which some of Williams' early writings may have been contained, although in "poorly printed" condition. Jefferson also had in his library a copy of Joseph Stennet's book detailing Anabaptist principles of religious freedom and church-state separation. Dawson's inference is that through this work, Jefferson was exposed, albeit indirectly, to Williams'. He then turns to the relation of Leland and Madison, implying that through Leland Williams' influence emerged.
Determining whether or not Joseph Dawson is representative of the Baptistic approach or not would require a great deal more research in Baptistic treatments than this essay has put forth. It can be confidently assumed, however, that he represents a major segment of that tradition, and that his responses are not likely to be unique. It becomes clear without a great deal of commentary that Dawson fails to accomplish in any convincing manner what he sets out to do. In response to many of Moore's criticisms, such as reliance upon Ernst, and Backus' use of Locke in articulating his ideas on religious freedom, Dawson could very well have conceded. Instead, he erects weak arguments which simply support Moore's claim that a certain level of scholarship is lacking. (Please note how according to Dawson, Backus was forced to use Locke due to the latter's saturation of the culture, while Jefferson, it is implied turned to Williams rather than Locke due to the insufficiency of Locke.)
In the central issue of demonstrating ideological dependence between Jefferson and Williams, Dawson attempts to show how greatly Williams' and Locke's idea of religious freedom differ. His purpose for doing this is to displace the influence of Locke with that of Williams upon the founding fathers, an attempt we had anticipated from the conjunctive approach. But this entire argument seems to cause more problems than solutions for Dawson. By ideologically isolating Williams from Locke, the argument proceeds in a direction which would appear to be neither advantageous nor accurate. A vast majority of scholars clearly find significant influence of Locke upon the founding fathers, an influence which Dawson admits "cannot be denied" (34). There is also a significant segment of scholarship which recognizes real ideological correlation between Locke and Williams, although admittedly, identifying a direct causal relation has remained difficult. David Little of the U. S. Institute of Peace writes, "John Locke's letters on religious toleration and the freedom of conscience explicitly influenced the thought of James Madison and Thomas Jefferson, two founders who played such an important role in working out early legislative formulations of freedom. And Locke's ideas, in turn, are, with one or two exceptions, simply restatements of the central arguments in favor of freedom of conscience developed by Roger Williams in the middle of the seventeenth century, when Locke's opinions on these subjects were being shaped." (35)
Multi-origin Approach
This notion of ideological correlation leads us into the last type of treatment we will consider, what I have termed simply multi-origin. David Little has raised a very interesting point for our discussion, namely, the apparent existence of a parallel between the ideas of the philosopher Locke and the radical theologian-statesman Williams. I do not intend here to demonstrate Locke's dependence upon Williams, but simply highlight this parallel. For a similar parallel exists between Williams and Backus, and even between Williams and Jefferson. As we have seen, when discussing specifically formulations of religious liberty, it proves quite difficult to demonstrate a direct causality between Williams and any of these figures. And yet a comparison of content reveals striking similarities which have fueled this discussion for the past century.
The only call to cease the search for Williams' influence in all this has come from that group of scholarship selectively emphasizing a particular element of Williams theology, and attributing to him an irrelevance due to the uniqueness of that theological position. Though I shall not heed their call, it is to be noted that the scholarship produced from within this group regarding Williams' theology has become invaluable to all engaged in the topic. Instead, allow me here to simply highlight those elements not stressed in most realistic and conjunctive histories, while at the same time assuming the central role which theology plays in Williams' own world view. (36)
It is indeed the case, as Miller contends, that Williams significantly utilizes typology in his arguments. It is also agreed, as Moore suggests (37), that Williams' view of the world is grounded centrally in a belief in the sovereignty of God, a belief, it might be noted, which makes consistent his use of typology. And as Gaustad theorizes, Williams will indeed be found to have begun his pilgrimage within the Puritan framework, only to eventually transcend or move beyond it. However, rather than accounting for this transcendence through innovations with Puritan theology, I would like to point to Williams' critique of current history and events as the primary source of his divergence.
This divergence, I believe, consists of a greater incorporation of naturalistic justification for positions Williams deemed self-evident. I also believe that Williams viewed Puritanism's mistaken self-confidence as the material nation of God as being the primary obstacle to their realizing this more self-evident position. It is for this reason that Williams strongly employs a spiritual typology in direct opposition to their concrete typology. Lastly, I suggest that it is precisely this move toward naturalistic justification which makes very plausible the notion, e.g., that Locke, when confronted with Williams' writings, was indeed informed in a manner applicable to his own rationalistic leanings. This accessibility could also be applied to Jefferson, Backus and others.
Throughout his writings Williams consistently employs an argument utilizing examples of English history aimed at demonstrating the inconsistency of attributing to the state matters of conscience. For, he asks Parliament, "Who knows not in how many few years the commonweal of England hath set up and pulled down? The fathers made the children heretics, and the children the fathers." (39) Here Williams turns to neither Scripture nor theology, but relies solely on the self-evident nature of the example, an example which though universal is exemplified before the eyes of his addressees. "What a most woeful proof hereof have the nations of the earth given in all ages? And to seek no further than our native soil, within a few score years how many wonderful changes in religion hath the whole kingdom made, according to the change on the governors thereof, in the several religions which they themselves embraced!" (40)
Williams simply yet efficiently points out that a conflation of civil matters and matters of conscience proves unreasonable, by pointing to the relativity of the civil state's stance of matters of conscience. This line of argumentation is employed repeated throughout his writings using examples drawn from both English and Puritan history. Let the previous examples suffice for sake of time. The simple yet central point I hope to make here is that rather than being constrained by a particular brand of theology or theological argument, Williams here confidently argues from "secular" content under the assurance that his audience (and opponents) will, upon reflection, find his conclusion self-evident. Few scholars, including Locke, would have found this assumption regarding historical example to be anything other than correct and grounded safely in reasonableness.
Williams then identifies a primary source of civil disruption in the rejection of this self-evident truth. He writes, "Breach of civil peace may arise when false and idolatrous practices are held forth, [not because of the fact that such are believed or practiced, but] from that wrong and preposterous way of suppressing, preventing, and extinguishing such doctrines or practices by weapons of wrath and blood... by which men commonly are persuaded to convert heretics and cast out unclean spirits, which only the finger of God can do, that is, the mighty power of the Spirit in the Word." (41)
This division of responsibilities between the weapons on man (which are in the previous passage are mistakenly turned against matters of conscience) and the Spirit of Word, Williams further describes in outlining the limits of the civil state's authority.
Here we find within Williams argument two levels which, if the thesis of this essay be correct, is present in much of his thinking, though at some points less apparently that others. On the one hand Williams here limits the civil sword from engaging in conscientious matters, a limitation he justifies using the self-evident nature of historical example. On the other hand, he subjects that same realm of conscience to the finger of God, a position he confidently takes up in light of his Scriptural and theological convictions. If we here move from a descriptive statement to a more explanatory statement, would it not in fact be plausible that Williams' (justifiable) notion of the limits of civil authority derive from this notion of the historical lesson, while his understanding of the role of the Church derives quite exclusively from his Scriptural and theological convictions? If this be true, then in great measure, Williams' characteristic contribution to the discussion of church-state separation and freedom of conscience derives from and rests upon universal tenets.
This universal basis is also the ground of another central notion of Williams', that civil authority derives from the people. Although lengthy, the reader will want to examine the language of the following passage from The Bloudy Tenet:
As Dawson points out, Williams' notion and language, which is mirrored in the later Rhode Island Declaration, appears strikingly similar to that of Jefferson's Declaration of Independence which states:
Thus it is that the very form of argument and justification for religious liberty employed by Locke and Jefferson are indeed present in Williams' original thought and writing. This essay has barely broken the surface in this direction, and would time permit, two further avenues remain to be pursued. First, the causal relation between such self-evident arguments for the limitations of civil authority and Williams' understanding of what the church ought to be may produce a more coherent unity between Williams' naturalistic and spiritual sources. Williams definitely viewed the true Church as conforming to such self-evident truths.
A second area of remaining exploration lies in the impact of Williams' exile among the Native Americans upon his understanding of the universality of conscience and its inherent freedom. Although Williams does not adopt the notion of the Noble Savage popularly embraced on the continent, he will frequently compare the civility of his barbarian hosts to the incivility of the self-proclaimed civilized. This, along with Williams occasional reference to the political structure of the Natives as a demonstration of the universality of his own claims, will undoubtedly prove fruitful in further understanding the origin of Williams' notion of the constituents and nature of the human conscience.
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End Notes
1. The particular notion of audience employed by this essay is not to be limited to only his addressee nor conflated to include that general notion of audience which would include any and all who encounter Williams' message audibly or visually. Rather, what is here implied is that audience to whom Williams successfully communicated his ideas, that is, that group which believed they understood those ideas and who acted upon them in one manner or another. Although negative reactions such as John Cotton's fall within this definition of audience (and addressee) and indeed constitute influence by Williams, this essay will limit its discussion to the species of positive influence upon ideological formation, and in particular upon those responsible for the political endorsement of freedom of conscience.
2. More accurately, Williams' methods are grounded in and naturally derive from certain presuppositions about these sources and their role in the natural world.
3. "J. Cotton and Roger Williams Debate Toleration" New England Quarterly, Vol. IV (1931), p.736. Cited in Calamandrei, Mauro. "Neglected Aspects of Roger Williams' Thought" Church History. 21: 239-258. Sept. 1952. p. 240.
4. J. E. Ernst. The Political Thought of Roger Williams (Seatlle;1929) p. 5. Cited in Calamandrei, p. 240.
5. J. E. Ernst. Roger Williams, New England Firebrand, (1932) pp. 491-92. Cited in Calamandrei, p. 241.
6. 3 Volumes; Boston: 1777-96. Reprinted edition, Gaustad, Edwin S. Ed. 2 Volumes (Arno Press & the New York Times; 1969).
7. This simple equation of Puritan and Baptistic traditions rests upon the rather widely held view that the anabaptist movement is the child of Puritanism. This understanding is, however, contended by Michael Watts, who would view the anabaptists as belonging more properly to the Separatists rather than the Puritans. Watts' thesis would, therefore, if true, have quite an impact on the entire project of the realistic historiography under consideration. See Watts, Michael, R. The Dissenters: From the Reformation to the French Revolution. (Oxford: Clarendon Press; 1978)
8. Gaustad's evidence for this motivation of Backus can be found in "The Backus-Leland Tradition" Baptist Concepts of the Church, ed. Winthrop S. Hudson (Philadelphia: Judson; 1959) p.110. Cited in Moore, Leroy. "Religious Liberty: Roger Williams and the Revolutionary Era" Church History 34: 57-76. March 1965.
9. It would seem that Gaustad is wont to continue to place Williams within Puritanism despite this discrepancy. In "Roger Williams: Beyond Puritanism". Baptist History and Heritage. 24: 11-19. October 1989, he states clearly from the offset that "Roger Williams was a Puritan" (p.11), but by the next page informs us that although "[he] shared much with his fellow [Puritans]... within a relatively short period of time, he began to move beyond Puritanism in certain fundamental, crucial respects.. he, step by steady step, transcended Puritanism." (p.12) Although this later work of Gaustad's seems to attempt a clarification of a previous position, namely Williams as Puritan, an ambiguity remains due to Gaustad's continued use of the term Puritan to describe Williams, and a total lack of any reference as to what Williams actually transcended into, what it was that lay beyond Puritanism. The reader is clearly given the impression that Williams has developed a brand of Puritanism beyond that of his contemporaries, although Gaustad also will stop well short of stating this. This ambiguity is even more thorough in Gaustad's earlier works, a fact which may account for Williams being described as a thorough-going Puritan in treatments those following his lead.
10. Calamandrei, Mauro. Op. cit.
11. Calamandrei is very careful not to exclude the possibility of "natural philosophy or general revelation", though seems to find any real thought along these lines by Williams difficult to locate. Instead, Williams' "philosophy" is seen to be grounded on the dual cornerstones of human depravity and God's providence.
12. Op. cit. p.239.
13. Ibid. p. 243.
14. Calamandrei, Op.cit. p.256.
15. Atheneum: New York; 1962. This work is highly recommendable and demonstrates the high degree of scholarship so far characterized by the realistic historians.
16. Miller, Op. cit. Foreward, vi.
17. Ibid., p.254.
18. Ibid., p.255. Subnote: I cannot resist wondering aloud what Miller here expects archaeology to discover regarding the validity of typology.
19. See Foutz, S.D. "On Erich Auerbach's Figura and a Strict Definition of Typology". May, 1996. Unpublished. Miller's contention that Alexandrian Jews first began employing Greek typology out of shame at their primitive Judaeo-Christian texts is at best highly unlikely. (see Miller, p.34f.) 20. Tertullian is a clear proponent for the necessarily historical nature of the antitype, whereas Augustine is the first in a long tradition of combining the type with both a historically concrete and spiritually future antitype.
21. A second philosophical difficulty arises from typology through what I believe to be a mistakenly conflated definition of typology, one which combines both the notions of typology proper and that of analogy. This mis-definition results in the insistence that the type's (that is person, event, object, etc.) own significance or meaning is only fully located in a historically distant antitype. It is this notion that poses a seemingly insurmountable obstacle to anyone attempting to philosophically defend this brand of typology. For example, Nicholas Wolterstorff, professor of philosophical theology at Yale writes, "The best of the medieval theorists were clear on the fact that typological interpretation deals with, as they put it, the signification of things rather than the signification of words... I am myself skeptical about this notion of things signifying things; a good many of the high medievals were so as well." Divine Discourse: Philosophical reflections on the claim that God speaks". (New York: Cambridge; 1995). Dr. Wolterstorff personally reassured me that his difficulty with thing-thing signification stems not from a worldview in which a providential God is non-existent (a world-view he would disagree with), but from a seemingly common-sense understanding that each object possesses its own meaning or signification. One object may be used by an author to signify another object's meaning, but this is an intentional linguistic device and does not make contingent the real significance of either object.
Subnote: This lengthy footnote betrays my very real concern that theology and especially any type of dispensational schema must examine its degree of dependency upon a mushrooming notion of typology and determine whether current usage and definition of that notion is theologically, philosophically, and linguistically appropriate.
22. Dawson, Joseph Martin. "Roger Williams or John Locke?". Baptist History and Heritage. 1: 11-14. October, 1966.
23. Moore, LeRoy. "Roger Williams as an Enduring Symbol for Baptists". A Journal of Church and State. 7: 181-89. Spring, 1965.
24. Moore, Op. cit., p.184.
25. Ibid.
26. Moore. Op. cit. p.185.
27. Moore, Op. cit. p.187.
28. Dawson, Op. cit. p.11.
29. Dawson, "Roger Williams". p.12.
30. Maston, T. B. Isaac Backus: Pioneer of Religious Liberty. (Rochester: American Baptist Historical Society; 1962). p.55. Cited in Dawson, Op. cit. p.12.
31. Dawson, Ibid.
32. Dawson, Op. cit. p.11. It goes without saying that the language of this first claim is highly ambiguous and susceptible to misunderstanding.
33. Dawson, Op. cit. p.13.
34. Dawson, Op. cit. p.11.
35. Little, David. "Conscience, theology, and the first amendment". Soundings. 72.2-3: 357-78. Summer/Fall, 1989.
36. The elements I will here discuss are most likely found within social histories, but to the exclusion of the theological centrality of Williams thought. For my purposes, the centrality of Williams' theology must remain in place in order for any treatment to be accurate.
37. Moore, LeRoy. "Religious Liberty: Roger Williams and the revolutionary era". Church History. 38: 57-76. March, 1965. p.59.
39. Queries of Highest Consideration (1644). Cited in Miller, p. 80. Hereafter, all references to Williams writings will provide the name of the correspondence accompanied by its location in Miller's Roger Williams.
40. The Bloudy Tenet, p.130. Italics mine.
41. The Bloudy Tenet, p.118. Bracketed paraphrase mine.
42. The Bloudy Tenet, p. 132.
43. P. 147. Italics mine.
44. "Do not all men hate the persecutor, and every conscience, true or false, complain of cruelty, tyranny? Two mountains of crying guilt lie heavy upon the backs of all that name the name of Christ... First the blasphemies of the idolatrous inventions, superstitions, and most unchristian conversations; Secondly, the bloody, irreligious, and inhumane oppressions and destructions under the mask or veil of the name of Christ." The Bloudy Tenet, p.109-10
Standing just antecedent to the commencement of the great American experiment stands Roger Williams whose ideas and writing have not ceased to inspire, provoke and challenge readers past and present. More than a century before those now revered statesmen penned into existence the fundamental documents of our democratic state Williams preached here and abroad the necessity for freedom of conscience and church-state separation. Of the aim of his message and the reaction it provoked among his contemporaries there is little debate. Rather, of varying degrees of interest among historians over the years has been the origin of William's seemingly prophetic message and the actual scope of his influence, with particular reference to founding fathers Jefferson and Madison.
This essay will briefly examine representative treatments of Williams, his thought and influence, and will seek to demonstrate that a multi-origin view provides the most accurate analysis of Williams. This proposal is made, however, with full recognition of the overall inadequacy of the essay in dealing with the subject matter in its full array of details. And yet I press onward with the confidence that an appeal to the works of Williams' and the contributions of modern scholarship will make this thesis at least plausible.
These two foci of origin and scope have in most treatments of Williams become a single causal continuum whereby origin (whatever one's view may be) naturally, if not necessarily, implies a particular scope of influence. Treatments of this continuum type generally propose a single-origin theory and conclude with Williams' scope limited to any and all audience sharing beliefs common to that origin. Thus, depending on the nature of the original source, Williams' audience will appear quite broad or insignificantly small. (1) Two representatives of the continuum approach, the social and the realistic will be examined and critiqued.
An alternative to continuum types is what I will term the conjunctive, and appears to be the predominant method of choice among Baptistic treatments of Roger Williams. Thus, this approach is often identified as the Baptistic interpretation. However, as my intent is located in a better methodological understanding (rather than the location of a particular method), the term conjunctive will better suit my purposes.
The conjunctive, like continuum types, will propose a single-origin for Williams' thought, namely, Calvinism in the anabaptistic context. Its conjunctive nature lies in the fact that despite this single origin Williams' scope of influence is seen to also include audiences which, from most appearances, would not naturally or necessarily share. In particular, conjunctive approaches must establish a bridge of dependency between an earlier and purely theological origin of idea and a later seemingly naturalistic understanding. Although the conjunctive approach also assumes a certain degree of continuation or dependency (and in this way are not unlike the continuum types), a major difference between these two is that the entire conjunctive project hinges upon its ability to identify and defend a non-apparent dependency. Continuum theories avoid this extra burden of proof by limiting the scope of influence to those audiences already sharing the similar views with Williams.
Conjunctive (Baptistic) scholars tend to attempt demonstrations of ideological dependency through mediary figures such as Isaac Backus or John Leland who, though contemporaries and close acquaintances of the founding fathers, held religious convictions very similar to Williams'. Other conjunctive scholars will simply attempt to demonstrate a direct dependency of later thinkers upon Williams.
A third alternative is what I will simply call the multi-origin type. In contrast to the previous two approaches, this view proposes more than a single origin of Williams' ideas and thus immediately broadens the scope of influence by increasing the number of possible ideologically diverse audiences naturally sympathetic to his position. The multi-origin approach differs from the others also in its explicit acknowledgment that both theological and what I will term naturalistic elements are operating significantly in the development of Williams' thought. The burden of this approach lies in demonstrating the presence of such naturalistic elements and establishing their significance as being greater than a normal level of influence found by their presence within any reasoned theological enterprise. That is to say, a simple demonstration of Williams' use of reason and logic will not constitute the desired significance since all endeavors, theological and otherwise, necessarily employ these elements to various degrees.
Williams indeed uses certain methods, but for Williams these methods are grounded in sources of truth and knowledge (2). Thus, typological and exegetical methods stem from Williams' use of Scripture as a reliable source of truth and knowledge. The question before the multi-origin proponent is then this: What other source(s) and subsequent method(s) does Williams draw from and utilize in his understanding and presentation of the necessity of freedom of conscience? This essay will propose that Williams' own observation of humanity and by extension human history provides an additional source of truth and knowledge which parallels the theological in significance. But before attempting to defend this thesis it will benefit us to briefly examine first two representatives of the continuum type and then the conjunctive.
Continuum Approaches
Social Histories
The old adage "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" perhaps holds no less truly than in the many appraisals given Roger Williams by contemporary historians. More often than not it is quite apparent, and often understandable, that such appraisals have at their core a desire to attribute to Williams either a place of prominence or obscurity due to some anterior disposition. One such recent disposition of historical scholarship was that of a more or less anti-Puritanism. This widely embraced disposition was characterized by the strong determination to locate the historical development of currently more noble ideological principles in any source other than that of the English or American established church. Roger Williams, that irrepressible spokesman of freedom of conscience in the face of the Puritan Massachusetts Bay Colony, became an irresistible figure for such historiography.
Treatments abounded in which Williams was distanced further and further from his 17th century Puritan context only to be anachronistically placed in contemporary ideological categories. Here historian H. B. Parkes serves as a good example by claiming Williams' true merit can only be appreciated "if one looks at him from the 20th Century" while at the same time proclaiming rival John Cotton as "unintelligible except to those who approach him by way of the Middle Ages". (3) This type of scholarship proposes a significant ideological gap between Williams and his contemporaries and suggests that the historian must approach Williams only through the hindsight of modernity. This results not only in poor history but also a wild subjectivity in attribution once such historical parameters are displaced. Selective reading of Williams' works and a dedication to the anti-Puritan disposition resulted in a school of thought whose central claim was that "the cast of [Williams] thought was social rather than theological,... his true place in American thought has been long obscured by the ecclesiastical historians". (4)
This, then, represents for us a social species of the continuum type. From this single social origin proceeds the potential for attributing to Williams a vast array of theories ranging from rationalism to transcendentalism. In other words, the non-theological nature of Williams' message allows for a seminal role in the myriad non-theological ideologies which follow. From this basic assumption resulted quite enthusiastic descriptions of Williams as the father of modern ideology, such as this passage from J.E. Ernst's discussion of Williams' George Fox digg'd out of his Burrowes:
In his seekerism [Williams] anticipated the rationalists and romantics of the eighteenth century, and his enquirism connects him in spirit with Bacon and the eighteenth century deism. In his transcendentalism he is the forerunner of Emerson and the Concord school, with his emphasis on the indwelling God in a world of material things. He anticipated Channing and the Unitarians in his doctrine of spiritual health and 'cheerfulness'" living hope and love and open mind. (5)
If true, this would indeed make Williams a formidable figure of the horizon of history, or as others have described him, an irrepressible democrat, the spokesman of modern humanism and individualism, and a thorough-going sceptic. But academic consensus eventually deemed such historiography as neither critical nor responsible and clearly indicative of, as we have said, anterior ideological motives. The increase of such criticism, along with gains in a more objective understanding of Puritanism through continued scholarship generated an overall academic climate in which anti-Puritan historiography no longer so freely flourished, although not until it had made significant gains at the popular level.
Realistic Histories
With the rise a new, more responsible scholarship in the area of historical Puritanism there arose refreshed efforts at critical evaluations of its influence on American thought. A new self-proclaimed realistic historiographical approach emerged which, in the study of Roger Williams, proceeded to attack obvious deficiencies of the previous social approach and presented a more thorough consideration of the theological nature of his thought and writings. Included in this effort are such scholars as Edwin Gaustad, Perry Miller, Mauro Calamandrei, and LeRoy Moore.
Isaac Backus (by no means a contemporary historian), living around 100 years after Williams was the first historian to really examine and evaluate the latter's impact on New England. Backus' objective A History of New England with Particular Reference to the Baptists (6) traces the development of New England, with particular reference to the significance and interaction of individuals belonging within the Baptistic tradition (as the title implies!). It is here that "Mr. Williams" and his writings are highlighted, making it clear that Backus considers him a central figure in the development of New England along the lines of religious freedom, and places his loosely within the Baptistic tradition.
This ideological possession of Williams by Backus prompted Edwin Gaustad to suggest that Backus' desired to regard himself and his fellow Baptists as the heirs of both Williams' ideas and of the Puritanism (7) of John Robinson of Holland, another figure given significant place in the History. (8) Gaustad supported this thesis with extensive scholarship in the works of both Backus and Williams, which has provided a foundation and trend of scholarship embraced to one degree or another by most historians.
However, it would be this same thesis which eventually leads to a parting of the ways between the realistic historians and other historians This parting stems from the degree to which the realistic historians will contain Williams' influence to the Puritan community. Although Gaustad himself saw clearly a discrepancy between Williams and his Puritan contemporaries, but chooses to employ a concept of transcendence, a language which allows Williams to appear to be both a Puritan and beyond Puritanism at the same time (9).
In line with Gaustad's thesis and emphasis on scholarship is the work of Mauro Calamandrei (10), whose work is characterized by a critique of the weaknesses of past social historiographical efforts and a careful exposition of Williams' theology. Calamandrei agrees with Gaustad that Williams is thoroughly Puritan and views his political theories as stemming from his Puritan theology. (11) Although leaving open the possibility of more naturalistic influences upon Williams' thought, Calamandrei's entire treatment proceeds with this thesis:
"that far from being a humanist Roger Williams believed in the radical depravity of man and the necessity of Grace; and far from being a rationalist Williams was a Biblicist; that far from being an optimist in history, Williams was a Millenarian; and rather than being a democratic Baptist Williams believed in the prophetic ministry free from any congregational limitations - in short, that rather than being a man of the Renaissance and the Enlightenment Roger Williams was a Puritan." (12)
In light of the trend of social history, this thesis is to be lauded in its conservatism. But in its protection against over-attribution, Calamandrei in effect ends with only one attribute - Puritan. It is clear from the previous discussion why Calamandrei excludes such attributes as humanist, rationalist, optimist, renaissance man, etc. But in denying Williams the attribute of democratic Baptist, although possibly in many cases an overloaded term, Calamandrei also sets himself up against the conjunctive (Baptistic) treatment, as we will see.
Without going into a detailed analysis of Calamandrei's work, and without the intent of detracting from the high level of scholarship he presents, it is, however, necessary to point out two important elements missing from his treatment of Williams. First, Calamandrei all but ignores Williams intense conflict with (Puritan) John Cotton, a conflict central to the quality and condition of Williams' existence in the New World. It was Cotton more than any other who was instrumental in causing Williams to be locally where he was at any given time, whether it be Providence, with the Natives in the wilderness, or defending himself within the Bay Colony. This dynamic between Williams and Cotton is central to understanding the events of the former's life. Yet this entire relationship and conflict is passed over by Calamandrei. Though aware of the history, the occasion for much of Williams work, he is content to simply assure the reader: "When Roger Williams argued with the founders of the Massachusetts Bay Colony he took for granted their common platform". (13) The context of this statement is within a comparison of the nature of Williams writings to Puritans and to Quakers, with the intent of demonstrating that Williams saw the Quakers as primary antagonist. Yet apart from this statement, no other direct reference is made to the conflict between Cotton and Williams or the discrepancy in beliefs it demonstrated.
By overlooking this discrepancy, Calamandrei also overlooks an event which is perhaps the most important event of Williams life: the Exile. The experience of being cast out of civilization and into the hostility of the wilderness proved to be an event which forever changed Williams' spirituality, view of the world and personal reliance upon God's providence. This entire event came at the hand of John Cotton, and stemmed from significant differences between the two. This event cannot be minimized for the simple fact that it again and again enters into Williams' writings, not merely as a theme for gaining self-pity or sympathetic audience, but as the basis of arguments for the universality of conscience, legitimacy of secular state polity, and the insufficiency of the organized church. In overlooking this experience Calamandrei overlooks not only the severity of Williams' disagreement with Cotton but also an enormous experience granting Williams an unique and unparalleled opportunity for naturalistic contemplation.
Calamandrei does not venture to make any conclusions regarding the scope of Williams' influence other than stressing the thoroughly Puritan and theological nature of the latter's ideas, "that Williams' political thought must be considered within his intellectual frame of reference, which was primarily theological and religious" (14). Given Calamandrei's initial thesis, we end up with Williams' being completely contained within Puritan tradition, with no mention of any other plausible source for his ideas, and the conclusion that Williams' thought belongs primarily to the theological and religious frame of reference.
It is here neither intended nor desired to question the degree to which Williams depends on theology and religion, but rather the characteristic limitation placed upon him in such 'realistic' histories. Gaustad and Calamandrei, though reasonably careful in their approaches to maintain objectivity, nonetheless, due to their omission of any elements of non-theological significance, lay the first stepping stones from which Williams' social irrelevance will be proclaimed. A proclamation to which we now turn.
Perhaps the individual most responsible for delivering the works of Williams to the modern reader is Perry Miller through his popular Roger Williams: His Contribution to the American Tradition (15) Miller's work combines his own biography of Williams with edited portions of Williams' more central writings. Miller acknowledges the impact of Calamandrei (16) on his own thinking and is likewise quick to point out the inadequacies of the social historians' treatment of Williams. What interests us at this point is simply the conclusion Miller arrives at regarding Williams' "contribution to the American tradition".
Miller identifies Williams' typology as the primary characteristic setting him apart from his contemporaries and supports this claim through a well-rounded selection of texts accompanied by his own commentary. It is this same typology, however, which Miller claims serves to set Williams apart from the founding fathers and the entire generation of the Revolution. He asserts: "[Williams] exerted little or no direct influence on theorists of the Revolution and the Constitution, who drew on quite different intellectual sources". (17) I believe here the key term is 'intellectual' for in the following paragraphs Miller describes Williams in the following terms:
"[He] was the devotee of a method of Biblical interpretation which most modern intelligences reject. Hence he came to the problem of freedom not as a disinterested philosopher but as a doctrinaire exponent of a peculiar and highly suspect version of Scripture. Theologically he was an orthodox Calvinist, and like all Calvinists can be accused of Bibliolatry. No one aware of archaeology, textual criticism, historical research, or comparative religion can today so naively maintain that the Old Testament is a collection of types of which the New is the antitype, or so rashly look on all nature itself as a typological preaching of Christ." (18)
Withholding comment on Miller's conclusion for a moment, it is simply striking how polarized the treatments of Williams have become over a relatively short period of time, how stark the difference between Miller and Ernst! In response to Miller two things might be stated. First, it is not simply "typology" which distinguishes Williams from contemporaries (and modern), but rather his insistence on a distinction between a concrete antitype which his contemporary Puritanism had set its heart upon, and a spiritual antitype which Williams was convinced was the only correct means of both erecting a peaceful state and interpreting Scripture. Thus a more thorough analysis of Williams' 'typology' would discern the direction toward which he was intending to pull the church. Was it toward a more progressive and reasonable typology? Or is any typology simply antiquated and obsolete as Miller implies?
Secondly, the notion that typology is indefensible through such fields as textual criticism, historical research and comparative religion is in fact quite incorrect. What can be questioned and remains unverifiable through such fields (and any other) is the entire notion of providential history, the relation of God to history. Historically, typology as a linguistic mode is deeply embedded in pre-Hellenistic Latin and classical Greek and thus finds its way into subsequent Western thought, not least of all the apostolic and patristic authors (19). The distinction Williams draws between the concrete and spiritual natures of the antitype in fact dates back to Plato and Ovid, and later authors such as Tertullian and Augustine (20). It is in fact the anterior assumption of a transcendent Reality of which the historical type is claimed to be a reflection, which more modern scholarship finds difficult. (21)
To return to the discussion of continuum approaches, it will be observed that in both social and realistic histories, a partial view of Williams is offered and in each case this partial view naturally implies a certain scope of influence. In the case of social histories, anachronistic attributions result in an incredible broad field of influence and foreshadowing. In realistic histories, exclusive emphasis upon particular elements of Williams' theological thought such as Puritanism or typology naturally results in ideological isolation from later democratic theorists. Although in my estimation the realistic approach is certainly to be desired above the social, its shortcoming cannot be overlooked. Why, for example, do we find such a pattern among such realistic histories? Is simply due to a conservatism in historical causality which hesitates from placing Williams in too great a contradistinction from his contemporaries? Or is there an implicit holdover from earlier social approaches, namely the assumption that church and state are necessarily separate not only in politics but also in ideological formation?
Conjunctive Approach
The conjunctive or Baptistic approach would argue with such a holdover if it in fact exists, and would strongly promote the recognition of the role of Williams' theological ideology in the later formation of political democracy. As we have mentioned, this places a somewhat greater burden of proof upon Baptistic historians, in that they seek to isolate non-apparent causal relations. Although it may very well be that this essay, given its intended audience, ought to hone its focus primarily on the conjunctive approach and formulate a response in particular reference to it, that will not be the case here. Instead, only brief observation is offered as to the strengths and weaknesses of this approach as found in Baptistic historian J. M. Dawson's published response (22) to realistic historian LeRoy Moore. (23)
The conjunctive approach will rely upon its ability to identify strains of dependency between later democratic theorists and Williams. The sources of such discovery seem to be predominantly threefold: Williams' own work, the writings of Isaac Backus (and fellow Baptists of his day), and the writings of the founding fathers. In an article typical of the realistic approach, LeRoy Moore criticizes Baptistic treatments of Williams as stemming from uncritical adoption of social historical research. "This [social] approach has been picked up and baptized by some Baptist interpreters of this history, so much so that it is often regarded as the standard Baptist estimate of the man." (24) He then turns to the three sources characteristic of the Baptists' defense.
As for Williams, Moore stresses that as for "the basis for Williams own plea for liberty of conscience... he did not begin on anthropocentric but on theocentric grounds". (25) Whether this criticism needs to be raised against Baptistic historians is doubtful, but would apply if social historiography were adopted. Moore's point is that Williams thought is to be located solely within a theological framework.
As for Backus, Moore is quick to point out that although Williams figures significantly in Backus' History, he is "almost completely ignored" in Backus' pamphlets on freedom of religion which were being circulated during the democratic formation. Instead, Backus makes repeated reference to the thought of John Locke in delineating his own position.
As for the founding fathers Moore is quick to profess: "There is little question but that Thomas Jefferson and James Madison, the foremost political leaders in the struggle for religious liberty, never read The Bloudy Tenet or anything else by Williams." (26) In this vein Moore concludes with the statement to which Dawson would soon respond, "It was really John Locke, then, rather than Roger Williams who was the principal immediate source for this doctrine of religious liberty that finally prevailed in the formative period of our national history." (27)
Our treatment of the conjunctive view will limit itself to Dawson's response to these three positions in order to identify both strengths and weaknesses of this instance of Baptistic argument. As to Moore's general criticism of Baptists' adoption of social historical treatments and more specifically assigning a primarily anthropological origin to Williams thought, Dawson interestingly pits social historians back against Moore by pointing out that "Moore's theories concerning Williams disagrees with such authorities as George Bancroft, Vernon Louis Parrington, James Brocknunier, and... James Ernst, one of the earlier and abler of the trusted historians." (28) The significance of this response is twofold. First, whereas Moore's initial criticism pertained to Baptistic adoption of social interpretations, Dawson's lengthy response amounts to nothing more than a "so what?". Secondly, and more interestingly, Dawson praises Ernst and by extension those historians Moore clearly judges as irresponsible. Thus, in reference to the previous distinction we have drawn between social and realistic histories, Dawson here unequivocally aligns himself and by extension the Baptistic method with social historians.
Dawson then claims Moore's criticism of social history is invalid as it rests upon inferences drawn from an oversimplified view of Locke as anthropocentric and Williams as theocentric. At this point, Dawson's claim that realistic history operates out of an oversimplified separation of the theological and the natural is supported by the observations we have made thus far. However, his implied contention that, given a correct categorization, social history will be found to be reliable strains plausibility even in an generous environment.
As to the observation that Backus all but "completely ignores" Williams in pamphlets dealing with religious liberty, Dawson has little to say other than that "this silence does indeed somewhat mystify." (29) He attempts to lessen this mystery, however, by quoting T. B. Maston's observation that, "Backus, like many of his contemporaries, was saturated with John Locke... The theories of the latter were so largely the common possession of the people that they became a part of the air people breathed." (30) Dawson then adds, "Naturally in his conflicts with New England's Standing Order, Backus would have little mention of Roger Williams, who was anathema to the Puritan-Congregationalists. That would be true of John Leland also." (31)
This tact, though perhaps a good attempt at piercing the mystifying silence of Backus, does very little to help defend Baptistic historiography. Maston's claim that Locke was as pervasive as oxygen in New England amounts to the claim that Lockean thought was assumed in the entire discussion of religious liberty. One then need only ask what it implies for something to be so assumed and it will be discovered that it implies being embraced as a reliable vehicle of understanding and articulation. Either this is the case, or Dawson is implying Backus simply used the language of his time without intending the corresponding concepts. This however would be a very weak and awkward position to hold since it strikes at the veracity of Backus' writings. The sole solution to this, having gone this far, is to demonstrate Lockean dependence upon Williams, an attempt Dawson does not here make other than pointing to an indirect statement made by Moore himself.
The second tact, namely that Backus would be incapable of progress in the discussion of religious liberty had he used the name of Williams also clearly seems to be a set back for the Baptistic approach. One might argue that had Backus found Williams to be superior to Locke, he would have most certainly mentioned Williams. Williams himself was outspoken in these matters and there is little reason to suppose Backus would avoid confrontation to the point of sacrificing Williams' ideas, if in fact they were for him a primary source of conviction. Forced etiquette seems less likely than that Backus simply found Locke completely adequate for the purpose at hand, and saw no real need to refer to Williams in light of the times and the audience. But to say this is to grant Moore's original contention which Dawson is here attempting to counter. Thus the only reasonable conclusion seems to be that Dawson is proposing a hollow usage of Lockean term for the sake of understandability and expediency.
It is to the last criticism by Moore that Dawson primarily takes aim, namely, the contention that Locke rather than Williams prevails in the minds of the founding fathers. As we have noted, Dawson does not proceed to demonstrate Lockean dependence upon Williams, but rather, attempts to demonstrate that the founding fathers drew principally from Williams as opposed to Locke. In order to accomplish this, Dawson's thesis is two-fold. First, he must demonstrate a greater ideological proximity between the founding fathers and Williams than between them and Locke. And second, he must demonstrate that Jefferson's lack of reference to Williams is not indicative of an absence of dependence.
Dawson compares Williams' notion of full religious liberty with Locke's more general notion of tolerance by noting, "Of course, toleration is a concession by assumed superiors to dissenters, a view hateful to Baptists and to Thomas Jefferson" And else where, "Locke frankly advocated an established church... [and] when he furnished the Carolinas with a constitutional pattern, they adopted an established church, the Anglican." (32) Dawson then attempts to show parallels between Jefferson's formulation of the Declaration of Independence and the Declaration by Roger Williams. Dawson points out that what he presents is the "result of a year's research" in various libraries, and then immediately refers to the fact that Richard Henry Lee was convinced Jefferson copied the entire Declaration from John Locke(!), and that John Adams said that it did not include a single original idea of Jefferson's. Dawson then concludes simply that Jefferson's declaration sounds "strangely" like Williams (33).
On the issue of possible dependence, or more particularly, as to whether or not Jefferson and Madison had actually read Williams' works, Dawson is able to produce somewhat more useful findings. He is able to demonstrate that Jefferson had indeed read John Winthrop's Journal of Transactions and Occurrences in which some of Williams' early writings may have been contained, although in "poorly printed" condition. Jefferson also had in his library a copy of Joseph Stennet's book detailing Anabaptist principles of religious freedom and church-state separation. Dawson's inference is that through this work, Jefferson was exposed, albeit indirectly, to Williams'. He then turns to the relation of Leland and Madison, implying that through Leland Williams' influence emerged.
Determining whether or not Joseph Dawson is representative of the Baptistic approach or not would require a great deal more research in Baptistic treatments than this essay has put forth. It can be confidently assumed, however, that he represents a major segment of that tradition, and that his responses are not likely to be unique. It becomes clear without a great deal of commentary that Dawson fails to accomplish in any convincing manner what he sets out to do. In response to many of Moore's criticisms, such as reliance upon Ernst, and Backus' use of Locke in articulating his ideas on religious freedom, Dawson could very well have conceded. Instead, he erects weak arguments which simply support Moore's claim that a certain level of scholarship is lacking. (Please note how according to Dawson, Backus was forced to use Locke due to the latter's saturation of the culture, while Jefferson, it is implied turned to Williams rather than Locke due to the insufficiency of Locke.)
In the central issue of demonstrating ideological dependence between Jefferson and Williams, Dawson attempts to show how greatly Williams' and Locke's idea of religious freedom differ. His purpose for doing this is to displace the influence of Locke with that of Williams upon the founding fathers, an attempt we had anticipated from the conjunctive approach. But this entire argument seems to cause more problems than solutions for Dawson. By ideologically isolating Williams from Locke, the argument proceeds in a direction which would appear to be neither advantageous nor accurate. A vast majority of scholars clearly find significant influence of Locke upon the founding fathers, an influence which Dawson admits "cannot be denied" (34). There is also a significant segment of scholarship which recognizes real ideological correlation between Locke and Williams, although admittedly, identifying a direct causal relation has remained difficult. David Little of the U. S. Institute of Peace writes, "John Locke's letters on religious toleration and the freedom of conscience explicitly influenced the thought of James Madison and Thomas Jefferson, two founders who played such an important role in working out early legislative formulations of freedom. And Locke's ideas, in turn, are, with one or two exceptions, simply restatements of the central arguments in favor of freedom of conscience developed by Roger Williams in the middle of the seventeenth century, when Locke's opinions on these subjects were being shaped." (35)
Multi-origin Approach
This notion of ideological correlation leads us into the last type of treatment we will consider, what I have termed simply multi-origin. David Little has raised a very interesting point for our discussion, namely, the apparent existence of a parallel between the ideas of the philosopher Locke and the radical theologian-statesman Williams. I do not intend here to demonstrate Locke's dependence upon Williams, but simply highlight this parallel. For a similar parallel exists between Williams and Backus, and even between Williams and Jefferson. As we have seen, when discussing specifically formulations of religious liberty, it proves quite difficult to demonstrate a direct causality between Williams and any of these figures. And yet a comparison of content reveals striking similarities which have fueled this discussion for the past century.
The only call to cease the search for Williams' influence in all this has come from that group of scholarship selectively emphasizing a particular element of Williams theology, and attributing to him an irrelevance due to the uniqueness of that theological position. Though I shall not heed their call, it is to be noted that the scholarship produced from within this group regarding Williams' theology has become invaluable to all engaged in the topic. Instead, allow me here to simply highlight those elements not stressed in most realistic and conjunctive histories, while at the same time assuming the central role which theology plays in Williams' own world view. (36)
It is indeed the case, as Miller contends, that Williams significantly utilizes typology in his arguments. It is also agreed, as Moore suggests (37), that Williams' view of the world is grounded centrally in a belief in the sovereignty of God, a belief, it might be noted, which makes consistent his use of typology. And as Gaustad theorizes, Williams will indeed be found to have begun his pilgrimage within the Puritan framework, only to eventually transcend or move beyond it. However, rather than accounting for this transcendence through innovations with Puritan theology, I would like to point to Williams' critique of current history and events as the primary source of his divergence.
This divergence, I believe, consists of a greater incorporation of naturalistic justification for positions Williams deemed self-evident. I also believe that Williams viewed Puritanism's mistaken self-confidence as the material nation of God as being the primary obstacle to their realizing this more self-evident position. It is for this reason that Williams strongly employs a spiritual typology in direct opposition to their concrete typology. Lastly, I suggest that it is precisely this move toward naturalistic justification which makes very plausible the notion, e.g., that Locke, when confronted with Williams' writings, was indeed informed in a manner applicable to his own rationalistic leanings. This accessibility could also be applied to Jefferson, Backus and others.
Throughout his writings Williams consistently employs an argument utilizing examples of English history aimed at demonstrating the inconsistency of attributing to the state matters of conscience. For, he asks Parliament, "Who knows not in how many few years the commonweal of England hath set up and pulled down? The fathers made the children heretics, and the children the fathers." (39) Here Williams turns to neither Scripture nor theology, but relies solely on the self-evident nature of the example, an example which though universal is exemplified before the eyes of his addressees. "What a most woeful proof hereof have the nations of the earth given in all ages? And to seek no further than our native soil, within a few score years how many wonderful changes in religion hath the whole kingdom made, according to the change on the governors thereof, in the several religions which they themselves embraced!" (40)
Williams simply yet efficiently points out that a conflation of civil matters and matters of conscience proves unreasonable, by pointing to the relativity of the civil state's stance of matters of conscience. This line of argumentation is employed repeated throughout his writings using examples drawn from both English and Puritan history. Let the previous examples suffice for sake of time. The simple yet central point I hope to make here is that rather than being constrained by a particular brand of theology or theological argument, Williams here confidently argues from "secular" content under the assurance that his audience (and opponents) will, upon reflection, find his conclusion self-evident. Few scholars, including Locke, would have found this assumption regarding historical example to be anything other than correct and grounded safely in reasonableness.
Williams then identifies a primary source of civil disruption in the rejection of this self-evident truth. He writes, "Breach of civil peace may arise when false and idolatrous practices are held forth, [not because of the fact that such are believed or practiced, but] from that wrong and preposterous way of suppressing, preventing, and extinguishing such doctrines or practices by weapons of wrath and blood... by which men commonly are persuaded to convert heretics and cast out unclean spirits, which only the finger of God can do, that is, the mighty power of the Spirit in the Word." (41)
This division of responsibilities between the weapons on man (which are in the previous passage are mistakenly turned against matters of conscience) and the Spirit of Word, Williams further describes in outlining the limits of the civil state's authority.
"There is a civil sword, called the sword of civil justice, which, being of a material civil nature, for the defense of persons, estates, families, liberties of a city or civil state, and the suppressing of uncivil punishments... it cannot extend to spiritual and soul causes, spiritual and soul punishment, which belong to that spiritual sword with two edges, the soul-piercing, the Word of God." (42)
Here we find within Williams argument two levels which, if the thesis of this essay be correct, is present in much of his thinking, though at some points less apparently that others. On the one hand Williams here limits the civil sword from engaging in conscientious matters, a limitation he justifies using the self-evident nature of historical example. On the other hand, he subjects that same realm of conscience to the finger of God, a position he confidently takes up in light of his Scriptural and theological convictions. If we here move from a descriptive statement to a more explanatory statement, would it not in fact be plausible that Williams' (justifiable) notion of the limits of civil authority derive from this notion of the historical lesson, while his understanding of the role of the Church derives quite exclusively from his Scriptural and theological convictions? If this be true, then in great measure, Williams' characteristic contribution to the discussion of church-state separation and freedom of conscience derives from and rests upon universal tenets.
This universal basis is also the ground of another central notion of Williams', that civil authority derives from the people. Although lengthy, the reader will want to examine the language of the following passage from The Bloudy Tenet:
"Whereas they say that civil power may erect and establish what form of civil government may seem in wisdom to meet, I acknowledge the proposition to be most true... But for this I infer that the sovereign, original, and foundation of civil power lies in the people... It is evident that such governments as are by them erected and established have no more power, nor for no longer time, than the civil power or people consenting and agreeing shall betrust them with. This is clear not only in reason but in the experience of all commonweals where the people are not deprived of their natural freedom by the power of tyrants." (43)
As Dawson points out, Williams' notion and language, which is mirrored in the later Rhode Island Declaration, appears strikingly similar to that of Jefferson's Declaration of Independence which states:
"We hold these truths to be self-evident... that [all men] are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights... [and] that to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed." (44)
Thus it is that the very form of argument and justification for religious liberty employed by Locke and Jefferson are indeed present in Williams' original thought and writing. This essay has barely broken the surface in this direction, and would time permit, two further avenues remain to be pursued. First, the causal relation between such self-evident arguments for the limitations of civil authority and Williams' understanding of what the church ought to be may produce a more coherent unity between Williams' naturalistic and spiritual sources. Williams definitely viewed the true Church as conforming to such self-evident truths.
A second area of remaining exploration lies in the impact of Williams' exile among the Native Americans upon his understanding of the universality of conscience and its inherent freedom. Although Williams does not adopt the notion of the Noble Savage popularly embraced on the continent, he will frequently compare the civility of his barbarian hosts to the incivility of the self-proclaimed civilized. This, along with Williams occasional reference to the political structure of the Natives as a demonstration of the universality of his own claims, will undoubtedly prove fruitful in further understanding the origin of Williams' notion of the constituents and nature of the human conscience.
[TOP]
End Notes
1. The particular notion of audience employed by this essay is not to be limited to only his addressee nor conflated to include that general notion of audience which would include any and all who encounter Williams' message audibly or visually. Rather, what is here implied is that audience to whom Williams successfully communicated his ideas, that is, that group which believed they understood those ideas and who acted upon them in one manner or another. Although negative reactions such as John Cotton's fall within this definition of audience (and addressee) and indeed constitute influence by Williams, this essay will limit its discussion to the species of positive influence upon ideological formation, and in particular upon those responsible for the political endorsement of freedom of conscience.
2. More accurately, Williams' methods are grounded in and naturally derive from certain presuppositions about these sources and their role in the natural world.
3. "J. Cotton and Roger Williams Debate Toleration" New England Quarterly, Vol. IV (1931), p.736. Cited in Calamandrei, Mauro. "Neglected Aspects of Roger Williams' Thought" Church History. 21: 239-258. Sept. 1952. p. 240.
4. J. E. Ernst. The Political Thought of Roger Williams (Seatlle;1929) p. 5. Cited in Calamandrei, p. 240.
5. J. E. Ernst. Roger Williams, New England Firebrand, (1932) pp. 491-92. Cited in Calamandrei, p. 241.
6. 3 Volumes; Boston: 1777-96. Reprinted edition, Gaustad, Edwin S. Ed. 2 Volumes (Arno Press & the New York Times; 1969).
7. This simple equation of Puritan and Baptistic traditions rests upon the rather widely held view that the anabaptist movement is the child of Puritanism. This understanding is, however, contended by Michael Watts, who would view the anabaptists as belonging more properly to the Separatists rather than the Puritans. Watts' thesis would, therefore, if true, have quite an impact on the entire project of the realistic historiography under consideration. See Watts, Michael, R. The Dissenters: From the Reformation to the French Revolution. (Oxford: Clarendon Press; 1978)
8. Gaustad's evidence for this motivation of Backus can be found in "The Backus-Leland Tradition" Baptist Concepts of the Church, ed. Winthrop S. Hudson (Philadelphia: Judson; 1959) p.110. Cited in Moore, Leroy. "Religious Liberty: Roger Williams and the Revolutionary Era" Church History 34: 57-76. March 1965.
9. It would seem that Gaustad is wont to continue to place Williams within Puritanism despite this discrepancy. In "Roger Williams: Beyond Puritanism". Baptist History and Heritage. 24: 11-19. October 1989, he states clearly from the offset that "Roger Williams was a Puritan" (p.11), but by the next page informs us that although "[he] shared much with his fellow [Puritans]... within a relatively short period of time, he began to move beyond Puritanism in certain fundamental, crucial respects.. he, step by steady step, transcended Puritanism." (p.12) Although this later work of Gaustad's seems to attempt a clarification of a previous position, namely Williams as Puritan, an ambiguity remains due to Gaustad's continued use of the term Puritan to describe Williams, and a total lack of any reference as to what Williams actually transcended into, what it was that lay beyond Puritanism. The reader is clearly given the impression that Williams has developed a brand of Puritanism beyond that of his contemporaries, although Gaustad also will stop well short of stating this. This ambiguity is even more thorough in Gaustad's earlier works, a fact which may account for Williams being described as a thorough-going Puritan in treatments those following his lead.
10. Calamandrei, Mauro. Op. cit.
11. Calamandrei is very careful not to exclude the possibility of "natural philosophy or general revelation", though seems to find any real thought along these lines by Williams difficult to locate. Instead, Williams' "philosophy" is seen to be grounded on the dual cornerstones of human depravity and God's providence.
12. Op. cit. p.239.
13. Ibid. p. 243.
14. Calamandrei, Op.cit. p.256.
15. Atheneum: New York; 1962. This work is highly recommendable and demonstrates the high degree of scholarship so far characterized by the realistic historians.
16. Miller, Op. cit. Foreward, vi.
17. Ibid., p.254.
18. Ibid., p.255. Subnote: I cannot resist wondering aloud what Miller here expects archaeology to discover regarding the validity of typology.
19. See Foutz, S.D. "On Erich Auerbach's Figura and a Strict Definition of Typology". May, 1996. Unpublished. Miller's contention that Alexandrian Jews first began employing Greek typology out of shame at their primitive Judaeo-Christian texts is at best highly unlikely. (see Miller, p.34f.) 20. Tertullian is a clear proponent for the necessarily historical nature of the antitype, whereas Augustine is the first in a long tradition of combining the type with both a historically concrete and spiritually future antitype.
21. A second philosophical difficulty arises from typology through what I believe to be a mistakenly conflated definition of typology, one which combines both the notions of typology proper and that of analogy. This mis-definition results in the insistence that the type's (that is person, event, object, etc.) own significance or meaning is only fully located in a historically distant antitype. It is this notion that poses a seemingly insurmountable obstacle to anyone attempting to philosophically defend this brand of typology. For example, Nicholas Wolterstorff, professor of philosophical theology at Yale writes, "The best of the medieval theorists were clear on the fact that typological interpretation deals with, as they put it, the signification of things rather than the signification of words... I am myself skeptical about this notion of things signifying things; a good many of the high medievals were so as well." Divine Discourse: Philosophical reflections on the claim that God speaks". (New York: Cambridge; 1995). Dr. Wolterstorff personally reassured me that his difficulty with thing-thing signification stems not from a worldview in which a providential God is non-existent (a world-view he would disagree with), but from a seemingly common-sense understanding that each object possesses its own meaning or signification. One object may be used by an author to signify another object's meaning, but this is an intentional linguistic device and does not make contingent the real significance of either object.
Subnote: This lengthy footnote betrays my very real concern that theology and especially any type of dispensational schema must examine its degree of dependency upon a mushrooming notion of typology and determine whether current usage and definition of that notion is theologically, philosophically, and linguistically appropriate.
22. Dawson, Joseph Martin. "Roger Williams or John Locke?". Baptist History and Heritage. 1: 11-14. October, 1966.
23. Moore, LeRoy. "Roger Williams as an Enduring Symbol for Baptists". A Journal of Church and State. 7: 181-89. Spring, 1965.
24. Moore, Op. cit., p.184.
25. Ibid.
26. Moore. Op. cit. p.185.
27. Moore, Op. cit. p.187.
28. Dawson, Op. cit. p.11.
29. Dawson, "Roger Williams". p.12.
30. Maston, T. B. Isaac Backus: Pioneer of Religious Liberty. (Rochester: American Baptist Historical Society; 1962). p.55. Cited in Dawson, Op. cit. p.12.
31. Dawson, Ibid.
32. Dawson, Op. cit. p.11. It goes without saying that the language of this first claim is highly ambiguous and susceptible to misunderstanding.
33. Dawson, Op. cit. p.13.
34. Dawson, Op. cit. p.11.
35. Little, David. "Conscience, theology, and the first amendment". Soundings. 72.2-3: 357-78. Summer/Fall, 1989.
36. The elements I will here discuss are most likely found within social histories, but to the exclusion of the theological centrality of Williams thought. For my purposes, the centrality of Williams' theology must remain in place in order for any treatment to be accurate.
37. Moore, LeRoy. "Religious Liberty: Roger Williams and the revolutionary era". Church History. 38: 57-76. March, 1965. p.59.
39. Queries of Highest Consideration (1644). Cited in Miller, p. 80. Hereafter, all references to Williams writings will provide the name of the correspondence accompanied by its location in Miller's Roger Williams.
40. The Bloudy Tenet, p.130. Italics mine.
41. The Bloudy Tenet, p.118. Bracketed paraphrase mine.
42. The Bloudy Tenet, p. 132.
43. P. 147. Italics mine.
44. "Do not all men hate the persecutor, and every conscience, true or false, complain of cruelty, tyranny? Two mountains of crying guilt lie heavy upon the backs of all that name the name of Christ... First the blasphemies of the idolatrous inventions, superstitions, and most unchristian conversations; Secondly, the bloody, irreligious, and inhumane oppressions and destructions under the mask or veil of the name of Christ." The Bloudy Tenet, p.109-10