Roger Williams

by May Emery Hall

Roger Williams’ second objection to preaching in the Boston pulpit was that the magistrates were allowed to punish sins of the “first table.” This foreshadowed the principle of soul liberty, which denied the right of civil power to interfere in spiritual matters.

The whole trouble arose from the Puritans confusing church and state. They could not comprehend that the two should be separate, independent bodies. In the spring of 1631, they passed a law providing that only church members should have the privilege of citizenship. They believed that the magistrates had just as much right to punish for spiritual offences as for civil offences, or those which disturbed the well-being of the community. When Roger Williams had carried his views on the subject to a logical conclusion years later, he made them clear in the form of a parable.

He said that the State was like an immense ship carrying all kinds of passengers. Among them are Catholics, Protestants, Jews and Turks. Their different religions are, of course, very unlike and the captain should be sensible enough to understand this and let each one worship as he pleases, according to his own peculiar custom. This is only fair, as long as the passengers remain peaceful and orderly. If, however, any one of them refuses to pay for his passage or disturbs the peace, then and then only has the captain a right to step in and punish the offender. But he does not interfere because the culprit is a Jew or a Catholic or a Protestant, but because he has not respected the rights of others. In the same way, the State has a right to see that its citizens are well-behaved, but should leave their religion alone.

From the very beginning, then, there was trouble for Roger Williams. Not many months passed before he received an appointment as assistant to the Reverend Samuel Skelton of Salem. The General Court of Massachusetts did not like the choice of the Salem people and wrote a letter to that effect. Nevertheless, the sentiment in favor of the outspoken minister was such that he was allowed to take his charge without difficulty.

At this settlement, matters progressed more smoothly. Roger Williams’ congregation was well pleased with him and showed their affection for him after he ceased being their minister, as we shall see. He was not permitted, however, to remain here more than a few months, for the authorities could not leave any man alone who was believed to be such a mischief-maker. By the close of summer, he was obliged to move to Plymouth.

For two years he led a fairly peaceful life in his new home, but it was not an easy existence. “At Plymouth,” he wrote, “I spake on the Lord’s days and week days and wrought hard at the hoe for my bread.”

During his ministry, Governor Winthrop of Massachusetts, in company with others, went to Plymouth for a little visit, going afoot the latter part of the journey. They were met outside the town, escorted to the governor’s house, and royally entertained at different homes in the days that followed. On Sunday, they attended church, of course. Roger Williams was the preacher, although the Plymouth governor, elders and guests also took part in the service. The peaceful Sabbath afternoon stands out in strange contrast to the stormy scenes that came after.

During this period, a little daughter was born, to whom was given the name of her mother, Mary.

While Roger Williams was not persecuted at Plymouth, he was very ready to return to Salem and the good friends he had left there when the opportunity came. Receiving a second call from the Salem church, probably in the summer of 1633, he gave up his ministry in Plymouth and made preparations to go back to his old parish. Some of his congregation were loath to have him go—in fact, so closely had he endeared them to him that several followed him to Salem.

Before taking up Roger Williams’ history in that town, let us pause for a moment to see who some of the men were who had already come in contact with the vigorous preacher or who were to shape his future course. Such a grim portrait gallery of unflinching old Puritans they represent! As we look at some of the stern, forbidding faces, we cannot help being grateful that we are living in the twentieth century instead of the age of Roger Williams.