At the risk of dwelling, perhaps, a little too long on this portion of our history, we must give a picture of life which is as quaint and beautiful as any Arcadian poem that ever was written.
“There were neither rich nor poor in the land, but all had enough. There was venison on the hills, abundant fish in the rivers, and sugar was gathered from the maple of the forest. The soil was originally justly divided, or held faithfully in trust for the public, and for new-comers. Happiness was enjoyed unconsciously; like sound health, it was the condition of a pure and simple life. There was for a long time hardly a lawyer in the land. The husbandman who held his own plough, and fed his own cattle, was the great man of the age; nor was any one superior to the matron, who, with her busy daughters, kept the hum of the wheel incessantly alive, spinning and weaving every article of dress. Fashion was confined within narrow limits; and pride, which aimed at no grander equipage than a pillion, exulted only in the common splendour of the blue and white linen gown with sleeves reaching to the elbow, and the snow-white flaxen apron, which, primly starched and ironed, was worn on public days by every woman of the land. The time of sowing and the time of reaping marked the progress of the year; and the plain dress of the working day and the more trim attire of the Sabbath, the progress of the week.
“Every family was taught to look up to God, as the fountain of all good. Yet life was not sombre; the spirit of frolic mingled with innocence; religion itself assumed a garb of gaiety, and the annual thanksgiving was as joyous as it was sincere. Frugality was the rule of life, both private and public. Half a century after the concession of the charter, the annual expenses of government did not exceed £800.
“Education was always regarded as an object of deepest concern, and common schools existed from the first. A small college was early established, and Yale owes its birth to ten worthy fathers, who in 1700 assembled at Branford, and each one laying a few volumes on a table, said, ‘I give these books for the founding of a college in this colony.’
“Political education was a natural consequence of the constitution. Every inhabitant was a citizen, and every citizen, irrespective of wealth, condition, or any other circumstance, was possessed of the franchise. When, therefore, the progress of society and of events furnished a wider field of action than mere local politics afforded, the public mind was found equal to its circumstances; emerging then from the quiet of its origin into scenes where a new political world was to be created, the sagacity which had regulated the affairs of the village, gained admiration in the field and the council.”[[5]]
Rhode Island, as well as Connecticut, received a charter of the most liberal character from Charles. Ever the advocate of the enfranchisement of the mind, they had pleaded, in 1658, with the English Commonwealth, “that they might not be compelled to exercise any civil power over men’s consciences, which,” urged they, “we judge no less than a point of absolute cruelty;” and again, addressing the restored monarch, they besought that they might be enabled “to hold forth a lively experiment that a most flourishing civil state may stand, and best be maintained, with a full liberty of religious concernments.” And Charles listened to their request; and Clarendon himself seconded it, and that noble charter, more liberal even than that of Connecticut, was granted, which Roger Williams says, “startled his majesty’s high officers of state, who, against their will, signed it, fearing the lion’s roaring.” And Rhode Island, as Roger Williams had prayed might be the case, became a secure home for liberty of conscience. “No person within the said colony,” it was enacted, “at any time hereafter shall be anywise molested, punished, disquieted, or called in question for any differences in opinion in matters of religion; but that all and every person may at all times hereafter freely and fully have and enjoy his and their own judgments and consciences, in matters of religious concernments.” There was no restriction here as regarded Jesuits or Pagans; the spirit of this charter was broader even than that of Maryland, which, disregarding distinction of sect and party, still required belief in Christ. It is a grand lesson to the narrowsouled religionist, whether he be Episcopalian or Calvinist, who deals damnation freely to all who differ from him, that in two states, the one founded by a Catholic, the other by the holders of every kind of heresy, the noblest principles of Christianity, forbearance and love, were alone acknowledged as the true foundations of religion.
BAXTER PRESENTING THE CHARTER OF RHODE ISLAND.
The liberty thus granted, spite of the assertion that quakerism fled from the Rhode Island colony because it was tolerated there, caused quakerism to have there its first home in the New World. Governor Coddington joined the society and died a member of it. The yearly meeting of the Quakers was held at his house till his death; and the first meeting-house of that body was built at Newport, on Rhode Island. George Fox himself, in 1672, visited his “Friends” there, and committed to them “the firm support of the good of the people.” The creative power of good in the colony he declared to be the instruction of all the people in their rights; “you are the unworthiest men upon earth,” added he, “if you do lose the liberty wherewith Christ hath made you free in life and glory,”—for he and his early Friends regarded Christianity, taken in its own broad and catholic spirit, as the great emancipator of the human race.
The joy of the colonists, on receiving their noble charter, was extreme. George Baxter—could it be the same who was so active among the revolutionists of New Amsterdam?—arrived with it on the 24th of November, 1663, and the whole body of the people gathered together for its solemn reception. “The letters of the agent were opened, and read with good delivery and attention; then the charter was taken forth, from the precious box that held it, and was read by Baxter, in the audience and view of all the people; and the letters, with his Majesty’s royal stamp and broad seal, with much becoming gravity were held up on high, and presented to the perfect view of the people.”