Chiefly upon New England has been fixed the odium of religious intolerance in our country; but human nature in the eighteenth century was pretty much of the same sort of stuff throughout the British colonies; at least the difference was not so very great between New England and Virginia so far as it found expression in religious intolerance; for if in New England the people could be fined, whipped or put in the stocks for not going to church—in Virginia they could be punished for going to the wrong one, while Baptists, Presbyterians and Quakers were compelled to pay tithes to a church they did not attend. If in New England the people could be compelled to stay awake and refrain from smiling while in church, no matter how tedious or ridiculous the sermons were—in Virginia justices of the peace were committing Quakers to the pillory for keeping their hats on in church. If in Massachusetts, at one time it was a capital offense to celebrate mass—in Virginia heresy was punishable by burning at the stake. If in Massachusetts the Church of England services could not be performed, nor baptism administered by immersion, nor a company of men pray with their hats on—in Virginia denial of the doctrine of the Trinity was punishable by three years imprisonment, and Unitarians were legally deprived of the custody of their children on the ground that people holding to the belief in the unity of God were unfit to be intrusted with the rearing of their own children! If in New England the spirit of religious intolerance was more severe—in Virginia it endured longer; for while in the former place the fight for religious freedom was won by the middle of the eighteenth century, it was not until nearly the close of that century that it was won in the latter. Religious freedom was not established in Virginia until the final adoption, in 1786, of Jefferson's statute for that purpose. The statute was presented in the house of burgesses in 1776, and the main clause was as follows:
"No man shall be compelled to frequent or support any religious worship, ministry, or place whatsoever; nor shall be enforced, restrained, molested, or burdened in his body or goods; nor shall otherwise suffer on account of his religious opinions or belief; but all men shall be free to profess, and by argument to maintain, their opinions in matters of religion; and the same shall in no wise diminish, enlarge, or affect their civil capacities."
Such an enactment as is here proposed seems now so reasonable to us, so commonplace in its justice, that we marvel that it was not unanimously and immediately passed by the house of burgesses. But after twenty-five days of debate, which Jefferson himself characterized as "desperate contests," the utmost of achievement at that time was the repeal of the statute which imposed penalties for going to the wrong church and compelling dissenters to pay tithes. Not until nine years more had passed—years of bitterness and strife and noble effort on the part of Jefferson and his liberal associates, could Virginia be brought to a settlement of her religious problems by the adoption of the foregoing proposed enactment.
This statute, so far as in him lay the power, Jefferson tried to make a sort of English bill of rights. At least I judge so from the nature of one of the paragraphs of the statute, and which is well worth the trouble to read.
"And though we well know that this assembly, elected by the people for the ordinary purposes of legislation only, have no power to restrain the acts of succeeding assemblies, constituted with power equal to our own, and that, therefore, to declare this act irrevocable would be of no effect in law, yet we are free to declare, and do declare, that the rights hereby asserted are of the natural rights of mankind; and that if any act shall be hereafter passed to repeal the present, or to narrow its operation, such act will be an infringement of natural right."
Of course, as Mr. Jefferson himself realized, the state legislature could not bind succeeding legislatures from altering or amending this statute, but undoubtedly there was a moral force that went with what was there set down in the statute. At any rate the passing of this act was a final settlement of the question. Never since those days has it been disturbed, and finally those principles were adopted in every state of the American union.
The principle upon which Jefferson acted in securing religious freedom in Virginia—though expressed in language used some years after the conflict in Virginia had closed—is set forth as follows:
"It behooves every man who values liberty of conscience for himself to resist invasions of it in the case of others, or their case may, by change of circumstances, become his own."
The arguments by which Jefferson sustained the justice of the Virginia statute, though commonplace to us now, are worth repeating in part, since occasional reference to fundamental principles is beneficial. Opinion, he declared to be something with which government had nothing to do; government was no more competent to prescribe beliefs than medicine, and constraint made hypocrites, not converts. Error alone needed support of government; truth could stand by itself. Subject opinion to coercion, and you make fallible men, governed by bad passions, by private as well as public reasons, your inquisitors, and even if desirable, uniformity is unattainable.
"Millions of innocent men, women and children," he said, "since the introduction of Christianity, have been burnt, tortured, fined, imprisoned; yet we have not advanced one inch towards uniformity. What has been the effect of coercion? To make one-half the world fools, and the other half hypocrites; to support roguery and error all over the earth. Let us reflect that it is inhabited by a thousand millions of people; that these profess probably a thousand different systems of religion; that ours is but one of that thousand; that if there be but one right, and ours that one, we would wish to see the nine hundred and ninety-nine wandering sects gathered into the fold of truth. But against such a majority we cannot effect this by force. Reason and persuasion are the only practicable instruments. To make way for these, free inquiry must be indulged; and how can we wish others to indulge it, while we refuse it ourselves."