THE EVANGELIST AS THEOLOGICAL
DISPUTANT:
CHARLES GRANDISON FINNEY AND SOME
OTHERS
by CHARLES C. COLE, JR.
Assistant Dean, Columbia College,
Columbia University
Interpreting the word of God, defining
dogma, and disputing
against heretical views have been
primary tasks of religious leaders
for many centuries. A glance at the
countless succession of theo-
logical battles from Augustine's
condemnation of Pelagius through
Wycliffe, Hus, Luther, and Savonarola
suggests that the respon-
sibilities of defending what is deemed
"truth" and of attacking
heresy are deeply rooted and persistent
obligations of theologians.
The tradition of tolerance is very
young.
Even in the New World theological
dispute has had a rich,
colorful, and sometimes unsavory
history. The Calvinist was as
prejudiced as the Old World Catholic,
the Puritan as sure of
his views as Thomas Aquinas or Ignatius
Loyola. Intolerance and
persecution, Roger Williams
notwithstanding, characterized the early
American religious scene. The United
States today practices religious
freedom in spite of, not because of,
its early religious development.
The tradition of dispute and
intolerance in colonial America
got off to an early start. The problems
created by the less pious
second generation precipitated a debate
that convulsed ministerial
meetings in 1657 and 1662 and which
resulted in a compromise
called the Half-Way Covenant.1 This
agreement, which in the
end satisfied no one, produced an
abundant supply of controversial
theological works which, while archaic
in a modern setting, serve
as tributes to the tenacity and
occasional brilliance of the trans-
planted seventeenth century mind.
The Great Awakening, with which
Jonathan Edwards was asso-
ciated, brought forth more doctrinal
discussions. Edwards, considered
the first major original American
theologian, did much to reinterpret
1 The Half-Way Covenant permitted
unregenerate adults to stay in the church,
have their children baptized, and be considered
members, but denied to them and
their children the right to communion. See Samuel E.
Morison, The Puritan Pronaos
(New York, 1936), 168; Herbert W.
Schneider, The Puritan Mind (New York,
1930), 86-87.
219
220 Ohio
State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
for his day the fundamental tenets of
his sect. He also stirred up
animosity among Christians with his
successful revivals, his re-
jection of the Half-Way Covenant, and
his assault on Arminianism,
against which he unremittingly
thundered. In addition, he blazed
a trail for later evangelists to follow
in combining revivals with
theological disputes.
Thanks to the Great Awakening, three
groups appeared to battle
for the future of Jonathan Edwards'
faith. The most conservative,
the old Calvinist group, preached the
orthodox line as it had been
followed prior to Edwards' time. The
most radical, the Boston
group of liberals, concerned themselves
with removing the harsher
elements of Calvinism. In the middle,
the Edwardians, or Consistent
Calvinists as they were called, battled
on two fronts, fighting tooth
and nail on such major matters as the
meaning of will, cause, mind,
and inability. Intricate arguments and
complex technicalities marked
the warfare among these Protestant
factions.
The disciples of Jonathan, however--men
like Joseph Bellamy,
Jonathan Edwards, Jr., Samuel Hopkins,
Nathaniel Emmons, and
Timothy Dwight--found the fight more
and more difficult, for
while New Side fought against Old Side,
and New Light did battle
with Old Light, while some were
"Tasters" and others "Exercise
Men," new, more dangerous heresies
appeared as the colonies grew.
Eighteenth century liberalism, deism,
antinomianism, anabaptism,
Quakerism, and later Universalism and
Unitarianism reared their
heads to complicate the religious
scene. The Calvinists, and their
non-Calvinist evangelical colleagues,
fought against increasing odds,
but by 1800 their bid for the
intellectual leadership of the nation
was doomed to defeat.
Failure on the broad front against
liberalism did not prevent
the Calvinists from fighting among
themselves. The habit of turn-
ing out theological essays,
examinations, and letters, and of en-
gaging in bitter disputes, writing
critical reviews, and issuing caustic
refutations was too deeply embedded to
stop the flow of books
and articles streaming from clerical
pens. The beginning of the
nineteenth century marked a
continuation of this internecine warfare
in the dispute which raged over the
ideas of Samuel Hopkins,
Congregational minister of Newport,
Rhode Island, for over thirty
The Evangelist as Theological
Disputant 221
years. Hopkinsianism was popularly
described as the theory that
one must be willing to be damned if God
so demanded it. More
accurately, it was the belief that
morally a sinner could not desire
salvation but must give himself up
thoroughly to the will of God.
Hopkins asserted that all the efforts
of the unregenerate were not
only useless but also sinful and
consequently harmful to his salva-
tion and that nothing man did or
desired enabled him to move
nearer his objective, salvation.2
Hopkinsianism reached its peak of
popularity in the decade from
1810 to 1820. It found a staunch
supporter in Samuel Whelpley
of New York, whose The Triangle, published
in 1816, defended the
orthodox Calvinist concepts of
inability, depravity, and the atone-
ment with vigorous arguments. Edward
Dorr Griffin, in Newark
from 1801 until 1809, Gardiner Spring
in New York City, and
Samuel Harrison Cox were also outspoken
Hopkinsians, while Ezra
Stiles Ely and Timothy Dwight, the
leader of the New Divinity
that emerged in Connecticut in the
1790's and which gave more
importance to the role of man in
salvation, attacked Hopkinsianism
with great force. Ultimately it became
heretical, but its influence
can be measured by the fact that as
late as 1828 Charles Finney
found Hopkinsians among the
congregations he visited and took
occasion to denounce them.3
The issue of Hopkinsianism brought into
sharp focus the fine
line that was drawn by church leaders between
what was acceptable
in doctrine and what was heretical.
Original sin, salvation by the
grace of God, regeneration, inability,
seem on the surface simple
words to define. Yet the ambiguity in
them was enormous. Each
one was open to innumerable interpretations,
and what characterized
the disputes which raged within
Calvinist ranks from Edwards'
time on down was a hair-splitting of
definitions, a confusion of
interpretation, and an excessive
verbalization that in its intricacies
2 See Schneider, The Puritan Mind, 214-215;
Gaius C. Atkins and Frederick L.
Fagley, History of American
Congregationalism (Boston and Chicago, 1942), 169;
Frank H. Foster, A Genetic History of
the New England Theology (Chicago, 1907),
129-186. Hopkins elaborated his ideas in
Sin, Thro' Divine Interposition, an Ad-
vantage to the Universe (Boston, 1759), An Enquiry Concerning the Promises
of
the Gospel (Boston,
1765), and An Inquiry into the Nature of True Holiness
(Newport, R. I., 1773).
3 See Charles G. Finney, Memoirs (New
York, 1876), 241.
222
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
was self-destructive. It was no wonder
that the rank and file
witnessing these titanic verbal battles
and uncertain of the shifting
lines which separated truth from error,
were often inclined to think
of those lines attributed to Lorenzo
Dow, sometime Methodist
evangelist:
You can, and you can't.
You shall, and you shan't.
You will, and you won't.
You'll be damned if you don't.4
The extent to which theologians went in
the atomization of their
views can be seen in some of Timothy
Dwight's arguments. Dwight,
who was to the Second Great Awakening
what Edwards was to
the first, disagreed with Hopkinsianism
and patterned his ideas
closer to those of Joseph Bellamy, the
eighteenth century evangelist
who was primarily concerned with saving
sinners. Dwight differed
from Jonathan Edwards in that he
deliberately engineered a revival
at Yale in 1803, while Edwards was
surprised when his revival
came. In opposing moral inability,
Dwight had to watch out lest
he swing too far in the direction of
Arminianism. The success of
his attempt and, incidentally, the
difficulty of tracing the intricacies
of his argument are revealed in the
following distinction between
natural and moral ability and inability
which Dwight made in one
of his sermons:
The nature of this inability to obey
the law of God is, in my view, com-
pletely indicated by the word
indisposition, or the word disinclination. . . .
A child is equally unable to obey a
parent against whom his will is as
much opposed as to obey God. This
inability of children to obey their
parents does not, indeed, commonly last
through life. But while it lasts,
the child can no more obey his parent,
than his Maker. In both cases this
inability, I apprehend, is of exactly
the same nature. . . . Indisposition to
come to Christ, therefore, is the true
and only difficulty which lies in our
way.5
A second illustration serves to
underline the difficulty ministers
4 Quoted in Charles G. Finney, Sermons
on Important Subjects (New York, 1836),
81.
5 Timothy Dwight, Theology; Explained
and Defended, in a Series of Sermons
(11th ed., New Haven, 1843), 20, 24, 25.
The Evangelist as Theological
Disputant 223
faced in using controversial
theological terms. "Moral suasion"
meant many things to many people. A
seemingly innocuous phrase
to the unlettered, it was dangerous
enough to set the orthodox
rearing on his heels when it was used
in connection with conversion.
Joshua Leavitt was no cautious
evangelist, but his warnings to his
colleague Charles Finney are an
interesting revelation of them both:
You know that conversion by moral
suasion only is the old fashioned
Arminian and High Church Episcopal
notion. And multitudes of people
in New England will let a man down for
a heretic at once, if he talks about
conversion by moral suasion. The
Arminians meant by it to exclude God
from the work. You do not. I would not
therefore use the phrase "moral
suasion" because so liable to be
misunderstood.6
More often than not, however, the
sentiments of Edward N.
Kirk, New York evangelist, explained
the reason for so much
confusion in terms, so much bitterness
in dispute. The contesters
were patently ignorant of each other's
views and sometimes even
of their own! "I am in the midst
of a work of God," Kirk wrote
to Finney at one of the times when they
were on friendly terms,
"and now my ignorance is more
fully exposed to me than ever.
Oh why did the Lord permit me to grow
up cramped like the foot
of a Chinese, in the periphery of a
triangle!"7
Except for the carryover of
Hopkinsianism and for the futile
assault upon Unitarianism, the first
two decades of the nineteenth
century were comparatively quiet ones
among the defenders of
doctrine. With 1826, however, a new
period of excessive dispute
began which became increasingly more
virulent as the 1830's pro-
gressed, charting in revealing fashion
the tide of revivals during
those years. It was felt at the time
"that the whole ground of con-
troversy that agitated the Church for
two centuries has to be revived
and gone over with."8
Indeed, in New England the acrimonious
debate of the 1830's
was, in a sense, a by-product of the
Unitarian controversy. The
Unitarians constantly pointed out that
their Connecticut orthodox
6 Joshua Leavitt to Charles G. Finney,
February 26, 1832. Finney Papers, Oberlin
College Library.
7 Edward N. Kirk to Charles G. Finney,
December 28, 1830. Finney Papers.
8 D. L. Dodge to Charles G.
Finney, September 17, 1828. Finney Papers.
224 Ohio
State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
foes, known popularly as the New Haven
group, were not Calvinists.
The New Haven group, on the other hand,
in clarifying their stand
had to indicate not only their dispute
with Unitarianism but also
their disagreement with more
conservative New England Congre-
gationalists and with Calvinism outside
New England. That feat
was impossible, and consequently the
assault upon Unitarianism
led to dissension within orthodox
ranks, each faction of which
subsequently claimed the truth. It is
no wonder that orthodoxy
could not produce anyone the stature of
Emerson. Their best brains
were too busy defending the past to
explore the future!9
Each battle in the war of doctrine
involved the evangelists in
public debate and brought forth scores
of religious articles and
reviews, adding to the general
intellectual impotence of the par-
ticipants. In 1826 Lyman Beecher moved
on Boston to set up a
beachhead against Unitarianism. In 1827
Finney's new measures
were under attack at New Lebanon. In
1828 Nathaniel W. Taylor
fired the first guns against Bennet
Tyler and the other orthodox
New England Congregationalists. After
1829 the Presbyterian
evangelist Albert Barnes was suspect,
and his subsequent trial for
heresy caused deep rifts within the
fold. After he went West,
Beecher was charged with heresy. In
1836 Finney withdrew rather
belatedly from the Presbyterian Church,
partly for doctrinal reasons.
Criticism broke over Horace Bushnell's
head with the publication
of his major works in the 1840's, and
it took him several years to
weather the storm.
Overshadowing them all, the 1837 schism
in the Presbyterian
Church brought the Old School-New School
controversy to a violent
climax. Various interpretations have
been advanced to explain this
event. According to Nathaniel S. S.
Beman and other New School
leaders, the schism was an unwarranted,
illegal usurpation of
authority by the uncompromising
conservatives. Lyman Beecher
looked upon it as shutting the gates
against the streams of New
Haven influence. The Old School
adherents, on the other hand,
considered it a necessary step to rid
the church of all "advocates
9 For an examination of the effect of
the Unitarian controversy on New England
orthodoxy, see Foster, A Genetic
History, 273-315, and Sidney E. Mead, "Lyman
Beecher and Connecticut Orthodoxy's
Campaign Against the Unitarians, 1819-1826,"
Church History, IX (1940), 218-234.
The Evangelist as Theological
Disputant 225
of error." The synods excised,
they pointed out, were those very
same areas in which "Finneyism,
Burchardism, and the nameless
disorders and irregularities which have
disgraced the church" were
most prevalent.10
More judicious observers have indicated
that while the division
was the result of theological
differences, nevertheless the split was
closely connected with revivalism, the
moral reform movement, and
abolitionism. As time goes on, the importance
of the slavery question
becomes more and more evident. Nor must
we overlook the play
of personalities maneuvering for power
within the Presbyterian
Church. Robert E. Thompson, a later
writer, minimizing the doctrinal
differences between the two groups,
emphasized still another point.
It was his opinion that the schism
developed out of panic and
alarm, that it was an unnecessary
crisis carried to disaster by leaders
who were unable to prevent the break
when it emerged. Regardless
of these interpretations, it is evident
that this schism was part of the
harvest which the evangelists helped to
sow."11
What make these religious disputes all
the more confusing were
the changes that took place in the
views of most evangelists during
their careers. Themselves dynamic in
personality, their theologies
were far from static. The development
of Charles Finney's re-
ligious views best illustrates this.
Finney's theology went through a number
of phases. First there
were the early formative years, from
his conversion until 1826,
when the conservative doctrines of his
theological teacher, George
10 Charles Beecher, ed., Autobiography,
Correspondence . . . of Lyman Beecher
(2 vols., New York, 1864), II, 425; Read
and Decide for Yourself, A Review of the
Proceedings of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian
Church in the U.S. at Their
Session of 1837 (n.p., n.d.), 16.
11 Much of the literature about the
schism is inaccurate and polemic. See, for
instance, Beecher, Autobiography, II,
425; Minutes of the Philadelphia Convention
(Philadelphia, 1837); and Read and
Decide for Yourself, A Review of the Pro-
ceedings of the General Assembly of
the Presbyterian Church in the U.S. at Their
Session of 1837, cited above, note 10. Accounts are also found in
Leonard Bacon,
History of American Christianity (N. Y., 1897); Samuel J. Baird, A History of
the
New School (Philadelphia, 1868), 552-554; Robert E. Thompson, A
History of the
Presbyterian Church in the U.S. (N. Y., 1895), 115-128; and E. Hall Gillett,
History of the Presbyterian Church in the United States
of America (Philadelphia,
1864), II, 503-552. For an examination
of the role of the antislavery movement in
the schism, see John Robinson, The
Testimony and Practice of the Presbyterian Church
in Reference to American Slavery (Cincinnati, 1852), 12-39; William W. Sweet,
Religion on the American Frontier (4 vols., Chicago, 1931-46), II, 111-125; and
C. Bruce Staiger, "Abolition and
the Presbyterian Schism of 1837-1838," Mississippi
Valley Historical Review, XXXVI (1949-50), 391-414.
226
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
W. Gale, conflicted with his youthful
individualism and exuberant
impatience. During these years he was
"but a child in theology."12
The second stage, from 1826 until 1835,
marked the years when
Finney experimented with new measures
and moved into the orbit
of the New Haven group. During this
period he had no well-
defined set of theological principles.
His move to Oberlin marked
the beginning of the third phase, which
contained the bulk of his
published work and in which he moved
steadily toward what was
then termed "sanctification"
or perfectionism.
As Finney began preaching, he
discovered that much of the Old
School thought was foreign to his
methods. The old ideas stood
in his way. The assumption of the
impotence of man and the all
powerfulness of God had brought about a
certain passivity which
he deplored. The feeling among
church-goers was that if they were
elect, in time the Spirit would move
them and they would become
converted. If they were not of the
elect, nothing they could do for
themselves or that anyone else tried to
do could possibly save
them. Finney took the opposite view. He
believed that moral de-
pravity was a voluntary attitude of the
mind and consequently
something which sinful man could help
change. He believed also
that the influence of the Spirit of God
on man was moral and
persuasive, and that man could be led
to recognize how he in his
limited way could come upon conversion.
As Finney put it, "I held
also that there are means of
regeneration, and that the truths of
the Bible are, in their nature,
calculated to lead the sinner to
abandon his wickedness and turn to
God."13 Furthermore, Finney
held that the preacher fulfilled a
function in bringing about this
conversion, in that the Holy Spirit
operated in him, clearly revealing
those truths which when eloquently set
before an audience were
calculated to bring about their
conversion. His use of the anxious
seat in revivals was symbolic of his
break with the old orthodoxy,
for it was an invitation to the
individual who was ready to repent
of his sins to come forward for
spiritual guidance. He was the first
to admit that he "was regarded by
many as teaching new and strange
doctrines."14
12 Finney, Memoirs, 42.
13 Ibid., 154.
14 Ibid., 157-158.
The Evangelist as Theological
Disputant 227
Another notable deviation in his
theology was his insistence that
conversion was merely the beginning of
one's religious experience.
The new convert must apply his religion
to daily life, carrying on
from where his conversion left off. The
tendency, therefore, was
to make religion more practical for the
individual participant.
Then too, the Oberlin divine was noted
for his dislike of
ecclesiastical machinery. He lacked the
patience to weather annual
assemblies and ministerial discussions.
He had no time for synods
and for the Presbyterian hierarchy. As
he once put it, "There was
a jubilee in hell whenever the
Presbyterian General Assembly met."15
It was in an effort to clear up
misunderstanding that Finney
brought out his major theological work,
Sermons on Important
Subjects, in 1836. In this hastily written work the evangelist
best
clarified his modification of the
orthodox concept of predestination.
"There is a sense in which
conversion is the work of God. There
is a sense in which it is the effect of
truths. There is a sense in
which the preacher does it. And it is
also the appropriate work of
the sinner himself," he explained.16
The actual turning, he pointed
out, is the work of the individual. The
agent responsible for the
action is the Spirit of God, assisted
by the preacher. The truth, or
message, is the inducement used by the
agent to get the sinner
to turn toward conversion. He used the
analogy of a man saved
from stepping over the brink of Niagara
by the shout of someone
nearby, who ascribes his rescue to the
man nearby, then to the
word of warning, next to his own
action, and finally to the
mercy of God.
Finney stressed that the voluntary part
of the act of conversion
was not only justified but also
necessary. The sinner is doing what
God requires in turning to salvation,
and what God requires of
an individual He cannot do for him.
"It must be your own voluntary
act. It is not the appropriate work of
God to do what he requires
of you."17
Throughout this work Finney criticized
other sects and other
religious solutions. He castigated
Antinomians, Universalists, and
15 Quoted in George F. Wright, Charles
Grandison Finney (Boston and New
York, 1891), 266.
16 Charles G. Finney, Sermons
on Important Subjects (New York, 1836), 19-20.
17 Ibid., 28-29.
228
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
Unitarians. He contradicted those who,
in his view, overemphasized
physical depravity, inability of the
individual to accept the gospel,
and constitutional regeneration, a term
which he described as
"another death-dealing tradition
of the elders." According to the
Oberlin revivalist, to demand of an
individual that he hold on to
the pessimistic dogma of the past and
hope for his conversion was
expecting too much. "To suspend
salvation upon impossible con-
ditions," he declared, "at
once insults his understanding and mocks
his hopes. Is this the gospel of the
blessed God? Impossible! It
is a libel upon Almighty God!"18
Preceding his Sermons on Important
Subjects, Finney brought out
a volume entitled Lectures on
Revivals of Religion, which was a
blueprint of his formula for conducting
revivals and ensuring their
success. Originally delivered to his
own congregation and printed
in the New York Evangelist to
help his friend Joshua Leavitt bolster
circulation, Finney in twenty-two
lectures went into great detail
on some controversial subjects
connected with revivals. Although
he admitted the book's imperfection, he
was greatly pleased when
the Lectures received the
enthusiastic response of his followers.
Charles Hodge, spokesman for the Old
School at Princeton, reviewed
the volume for the Biblical
Repertory, however, and caustically re-
marked that it was "composed of
exploded errors and condemned
heresies."19 Finney's Lectures
to Professing Christians in 1837 in-
dicated that Hodge's criticism had been
unheeded.
Having gone so far at a time in his
career when he was not
systematically studying theology, it is
perhaps understandable that
once he established himself at Oberlin,
Finney should continue his
journey across the theological spectrum
away from the old orthodoxy.
In the company of Asa Mahan, Henry
Cowles, and John Morgan
of the Oberlin faculty, Finney evolved
the idea of sanctification,
the third stage of his religious
development.
That Finney had anticipated some higher
phase in his religious
thought is evident in his
autobiography. As the evangelist put it, "I
was led earnestly to inquire whether
there was not something
higher and more enduring than the
Christian church was aware
18 Ibid., 81-82.
19 Biblical
Repertory, VII (1835), 482.
The Evangelist as Theological
Disputant 229
of, whether there were not promises,
and means provided in the
Gospel, for the establishment of
Christians in altogether a higher
form of Christian life."20 This
led him to study the Scriptures
until he was satisfied that a higher
type of Christian life, bordering
on perfect consecration to one's God,
was attainable.21
In 1840 Finney brought out his Views
of Sanctification and in
1846 he published his Lectures on
Systematic Theology, in which
he discussed the subject of entire
sanctification at great length.
Finney's Lectures began with a
repudiation of orthodoxy that was
far-reaching:
The truths of the blessed gospel have
been hidden under a false philosophy.
Of this I have been long convinced. Nearly
all the practical doctrines of
Christianity have been embarrassed and
perverted by assuming as true the
dogma of a Necessitated Will. This has
been a leaven of error that, as we
shall see, has "leavened nearly
the whole lump" of gospel truth. In the
present work I have in brief attempted
to prove, and have everywhere
assumed the freedom of the Will.22
The bulk of the work dealt with
Finney's theories and their
application to moral government, but in
the chapter on "Moral
Depravity and Regeneration" he
went farthest afield. The main
theme of the Lectures was that
perfection was attainable, that it
was within the reach of everyone, and
that there was nothing
unusual about sanctification. According
to the Oberlin divine, it
did not differ much from the experiences
of ordinary Christians.
In a sense, sanctification rested on a
dualistic view of the universe.
Man was either good or bad;
perfectionism recognized no in-
between, no imperfect holiness.
Regeneration meant an "instantane-
ous change . . . from entire sinfulness
to entire holiness."23
This work touched off considerable
controversy. Stinging reviews,
led by Hodge's long criticism in the Biblical
Repertory and Princeton
Review, attacked Finney and his group for their deviations
from
orthodoxy. Hodge's kindest words were,
"It is as hard to read as
20 Finney, Memoirs, 340.
21 An excellent critique of the
Oberlin theology is found in Foster, A Genetic
History, 453-470.
22 Charles G. Finney, Lectures
on Systematic Theology (Oberlin, 1846), iii.
23 Ibid., 500.
230 Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
Euclid."24 He echoed
the comment written earlier when Finney's
first sermons on the subject appeared
in print: "One great con-
clusion may be drawn from the history
of this heresy, that de-
partures from the standard of truth,
however specious or apparently
trivial, are like the fabled dragon's
teeth, inert and harmless as
they are cast into the earth, but
presently producing a harvest of
armed men."25 Even from
the New School ranks the Oberlin group
received criticism. George Duffield,
New School Presbyterian minister
of Detroit, wrote a scathing attack,
and as the various reviews
appeared, Finney published replies.
Earlier, before sanctification had been
completely developed and
defended, the lines of battle were
beginning to form. As one of his
friends warned Finney, "If I see
straight, the doctrine of perfection
will shake the church yet, as much as
abolition."26 When Joshua
Leavitt opened the columns of his Evangelist
to Finney's perfectionist
ideas, his old antagonist Asahel
Nettleton shook his head and the
letters started flying once more.27
Conventions were called to check
Oberlin's influence, and even Lyman
Beecher in Cincinnati aimed
the thunder of his denunciation against
his old friend.28
In spite of this general spirit of
animosity that pervaded the
religious scene, there were a few
voices crying in the wilderness for
unity and concord. As early as 1827 the
Christian Spectator suggested
that ministers "by all means keep
the unity of the spirit among
themselves," and urged it be done
by avoiding conflict and doctrinal
innovations.29 The Quaker
minister Elias Hicks, in the last letter
he ever wrote, called for an end to
controversy. "And until the
professors of Christianity agree to lay
aside all their non-essentials
in religion, and rally to this
unchangeable foundation and standard
24 Biblical Repertory and
Princeton Review, XIX (1847), 237.
25 Ibid., XIII (1841), 250. For
Finney's response, see Finney, Memoirs, 347 et seq.;
"An Examination of the Review of
Finney's Systematic Theology Published in the
Biblical Repertory," Oberlin
Quarterly Review, III (1847-48), 23-81; "A Reply to
the Warning Against Error [written by
the Rev. Dr. George Duffield]," ibid.,
373-417.
26 William Green, Jr., to Finney, June 21, 1837. Finney Papers.
27 See Asahel Nettleton to
Leonard Woods, March 8, 1837, in George H. Birney,
The Life and Letters of Asahel Nettleton, 1783-1844
(typed manuscript, Hartford
Theological Seminary, 1943), 394.
28 See Finney, Memoirs, 343-345;
Catherine Beecher to Finney, November 4, 1839,
in Finney Papers.
29 Christian
Spectator, N.S., I (1827), 516.
The Evangelist as Theological
Disputant 231
of truth," he wrote, "wars
and fightings, confusion and error will
prevail, and the angelic song cannot be
heard in our land."30 Luther
Myrick, one of the more radical
revivalists in western New York,
was in favor of working for agreement
among the various denomi-
nations and believed there was an
increasing desire for union among
them. "Something must be done to
effect this," he declared.31 Disgust
with constant controversy angered many
persons who looked upon
the intricate explanations of doctrine
as meaningless in a society
growing more and more materialistic.
Many condemned the
"heresy-phobia" which was
running its course. "Morbid in its
original elements, it grows not to
increasing strength, as healthy
parts improve, but wanes toward
extinction; or, like smouldering
fire, is seen only in the smoke it
sends toward heaven," one minister
remarked. "I view it as little
better than wickedness in its painstaking
and its malignity."32
Even Finney, who stirred up more than
his share of ministerial
struggles, felt impelled to denounce
their influence on American
religion. Writing in 1835, he declared:
"Ecclesiastical difficulties
are calculated to grieve away the
Spirit, and destroy revivals. It
has always been the policy of the devil
to turn off the attention of
ministers from the work of the Lord, to
disputes and ecclesiastical
litigations."33
There are a number of conclusions
regarding the religious views
of the early nineteenth century
evangelists which might be made.
First, the evangelists and their
followers overemphasized dogma
in their philosophies. They exaggerated
minor points in their
doctrine and in those of their
opponents. They attacked insig-
nificant points in rival
interpretations, blinding themselves to the
more obvious areas of agreement. They
created crises which under-
mined their strength and destroyed
their appeal. They looked upon
disagreements as holy crusades on the
success of each of which
hinged the future of the faith.
30 Elias Hicks to Hugh Judge, February
14, 1830, quoted in Elias Hicks, Journal
of the Life and Religious Labours of
Elias Hicks (New York, 1832), 439.
31 Luther Myrick to Charles G.
Finney, January 10, 1833. Finney Papers.
32 Dr. S. H. Cox to Lyman Beecher, April
7, 1834, in Beecher, Autobiography,
II, 301.
33 Charles G. Finney, Lectures on
Revivals of Religion (New York, 1835), 268.
232
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
Second, evangelists in developing and
defending their religious
views were overly opinionated. They
tended to consider themselves
infallible and to deny with a sweeping
forcefulness any possibility
they might be wrong. Combe caught this
spirit among Philadelphia
ministers when he wrote, "The
Calvinists of this city are chargeable
to some extent, with the spirit of
Popery in one of its worst forms,
an unmitigated confidence in the
infallible soundness of their own
opinions. "34
A third characteristic of most
evangelistic theologies was their
incompleteness. They were poorly
constructed, hastily erected, and
easily attacked. Few revivalists had
the time or the inclination to
spend hours in research or to read the
scholarly tomes of their
predecessors. Unlike their elders
Samuel Hopkins and Timothy
Dwight, to whom fourteen hours a day of
study were routine,
they were for the most part men of
action. Except for a few
scholarly ministers like Horace
Bushnell and Francis Wayland,
nineteenth century evangelists shied
away from a close scrutiny of
previous theologians, and the result
was a haphazard product.
Beecher himself admitted that the
reason for so much controversy
between Old and New School was
"the want of comprehensiveness
in the views of both the great
contending parties."35 Joshua Leavitt
echoed him in observing, "You know
one half the good men do not
know but that all doctrine is alike, if
only seasoned with a little
'pious talk' and that falsehood will do
just as well as truth to
convert the world."36
Furthermore, their theological views
were, more than anything
else, highly individualistic. Rooted
though they were in their own
particular religious traditions,
nevertheless they imparted to their
philosophies a vigorous originality and
independence which made
each a party unto himself. In this
respect the evangelists followed
the pioneering spirit of Nathaniel
Emmons, who once advised,
"Follow not too strictly the path
of any particular Divines, for by
following you will never overtake them;
but endeavor, if possible,
34 George Combe, Notes on the
United States of North America (2 vols., Phila-
delphia, 1841), I, 306.
35 Beecher, Autobiography, II,
346.
36 Joshua Leavitt to Charles G.
Finney, February 26, 1832. Finney Papers.
The Evangelist as Theological
Disputant 233
to find out some new, nearer and easier
way by which you may get
before them and really add some
pittance to the common stock of
theological knowledge."37 Americans
of the nineteenth century
have often been called individualistic.
American evangelists were
extravagantly so.
Still another observation suggests
itself. The closer the ties
between evangelists, the more bitter
their disputes and the greater
their schisms. Those who were cut more
closely from the same
cloth fought against each other all the
more violently. Finney and
Beecher differed very little in their
doctrinal views, yet their verbal
battles at New Lebanon and Boston, and
later in Ohio, were
struggles of the first magnitude.
Finally, the evangelists' doctrinal
disputes show most clearly and
decisively how out of step these men
were with their own times.
Commanding vast audiences at an
important formative period in
American history, they failed to
comprehend the meaning of their
present or the direction of their
future. Trained in the past, they
lived in the past and preached for a
past. The world they under-
stood disappeared behind them.
Industrialism, expansion, and
materialism eventually gained the
converts they sought. Indi-
vidualism and the idea of progress took
the sting out of their
predestinarian predilections. A growing
rationalism--or perhaps it
was just common sense--took some of the
horror out of their
fire-and-brimstone preaching. People
finally lost interest in their
concerns and their causes. By
midcentury they had become God's
lonely men.
37 Quoted in William B. Sprague, Annals
of the American Pulpit (9 vols., New
York, 1857-69), I, 700.
THE EVANGELIST AS THEOLOGICAL
DISPUTANT:
CHARLES GRANDISON FINNEY AND SOME
OTHERS
by CHARLES C. COLE, JR.
Assistant Dean, Columbia College,
Columbia University
Interpreting the word of God, defining
dogma, and disputing
against heretical views have been
primary tasks of religious leaders
for many centuries. A glance at the
countless succession of theo-
logical battles from Augustine's
condemnation of Pelagius through
Wycliffe, Hus, Luther, and Savonarola
suggests that the respon-
sibilities of defending what is deemed
"truth" and of attacking
heresy are deeply rooted and persistent
obligations of theologians.
The tradition of tolerance is very
young.
Even in the New World theological
dispute has had a rich,
colorful, and sometimes unsavory
history. The Calvinist was as
prejudiced as the Old World Catholic,
the Puritan as sure of
his views as Thomas Aquinas or Ignatius
Loyola. Intolerance and
persecution, Roger Williams
notwithstanding, characterized the early
American religious scene. The United
States today practices religious
freedom in spite of, not because of,
its early religious development.
The tradition of dispute and
intolerance in colonial America
got off to an early start. The problems
created by the less pious
second generation precipitated a debate
that convulsed ministerial
meetings in 1657 and 1662 and which
resulted in a compromise
called the Half-Way Covenant.1 This
agreement, which in the
end satisfied no one, produced an
abundant supply of controversial
theological works which, while archaic
in a modern setting, serve
as tributes to the tenacity and
occasional brilliance of the trans-
planted seventeenth century mind.
The Great Awakening, with which
Jonathan Edwards was asso-
ciated, brought forth more doctrinal
discussions. Edwards, considered
the first major original American
theologian, did much to reinterpret
1 The Half-Way Covenant permitted
unregenerate adults to stay in the church,
have their children baptized, and be considered
members, but denied to them and
their children the right to communion. See Samuel E.
Morison, The Puritan Pronaos
(New York, 1936), 168; Herbert W.
Schneider, The Puritan Mind (New York,
1930), 86-87.
219