“Resolved, That they are decidedly opposed to modern abolitionism, and wholly disdain any right, wish or intention to interfere in the civil and political relation between master and slave as it exists in the slaveholding States of this Union.”—Bangs’ History of the Methodist Episcopal Church, vol. 4, pp. 245, 246.
This is rather strong language, but not more so than the pastoral address issued by the same General Conference. In that address the following language is used: “It can not be unknown to you that the question of slavery in these United States, by the constitutional compact which binds us together as a nation, is left to be regulated by the several State legislatures themselves, and thereby is put beyond the control of the general government as well as that of all ecclesiastical bodies, it being manifest that in the slaveholding States themselves the entire responsibility of its existence or non-existence rests with those State legislatures; and such is the aspect of affairs in reference to this question that whatever else might tend to ameliorate the condition of the slave, it is evident to us, from what we have witnessed of abolition movements, that these are the least likely to do him good.” Reasons are given amply sufficient to prove that abolition speeches and publications all “tend injuriously to affect his temporal and spiritual condition, by hedging up the way of the missionary who is sent to preach to him Jesus and the resurrection, and thereby abridging his civil and religious privileges.”
“These facts,” the address continues, “which are only mentioned here as reasons for the friendly admonition which we wish to give you, constrain us, as your pastors, who are called to watch over your souls, as they who must give an account, to exhort you to abstain from all abolition movements and associations, and to refrain from patronizing any of their publications, and especially from those of that inflammatory character which denounce in unmeasured terms those of the brethren who take the liberty to dissent from them.” * * * * “From every view of the subject which we have been able to take, and from the most calm and dispassionate survey of the whole ground, we have come to the solemn conviction that the only safe, scriptural and prudent way for us, both as ministers and people, to take, is wholly to refrain from this agitating subject which is now convulsing the country, and consequently the Church, from end to end, by calling forth inflammatory speeches, papers and pamphlets. While we cheerfully accord to such all the sincerity they ask for their belief and motives, we can not but disapprove of their measures as alike destructive to the peace of the Church and the happiness of the slave.”—Bangs’ History of the M. E. Church, vol. 4, pp. 258, 260.
It is patent to every candid observer that the Church in 1836 did not consider the subject of slavery as the “sum of all evils,” and therefore to be extirpated at whatever cost to Church and State, but rather that the danger to the peace of the Church and country was not in slavery itself, but in the “abolition movements,” “speeches and papers” that were “convulsing the country and Church from end to end,” and “that the only safe, scriptural and prudent way for both ministers and people was wholly to refrain from this agitating subject.” Slavery was, according to this address, “beyond the control of all ecclesiastical bodies,” and it would have been fortunate for the peace and welfare of both the Church and the country had it remained beyond their control, and had the teachings and deliverances of all ecclesiastical bodies upon this subject remained just as this General Conference expressed it in 1836. Slavery remained unchanged; and if it was “safe, scriptural and prudent” for the Church in ’36 to let it alone, and leave it under the “control of the State legislatures,” where “the constitutional compact which binds us together as a nation placed it,” why was it not “safe, scriptural and prudent” to do the same in ’44? Did slavery, as a domestic, moral or civil institution present any new aspects in 1844? What civil or moral questions were applicable to slavery in 1844 that did not equally apply in 1836 or 1796? Had slavery just been admitted into the Church for the first time, then those who contend that it was the cause of division would have some show of reason. If slavery was the “sum of all villainy” in 1844 it was in 1798, unless time can change the character of “villainy,” for it did not change the character of slavery. If a slaveholder was “a thief, a robber, a murderer and a sinner above all others” in 1844, he was the same in 1836. Nathan Bangs, George Peck, Charles Elliott, Orange Scott, and many others were members of the General Conference of 1836, but they did not discover such mighty man-defrauding, God-defying wrongs in slavery and slaveholders then. Their optics were different when, in 1844, the effort to make the institution of slavery a proper subject for ecclesiastical legislation, by deposing Bishop James O. Andrew from the Episcopal office because his wife had inherited slaves, revealed the dangerous advances the Church had made toward the control of civil questions.
In this case “certain constructions of the constitutional powers and prerogatives of the General Conference were assumed and acted on, which were oppressive and destructive of the rights of the numerical minority represented in that highest judicatory of the Church.” It was upon the “construction of the constitutional powers of the church” that they differed, and in the discussions and decisions that followed “certain principles were developed in relation to the political aspects of slavery, involving the right of ecclesiastical bodies to handle and determine matters lying wholly outside of their proper jurisdiction.”
No candid man who will study the philosophy of that memorable Conference in the light of the plain facts can believe that slavery was more than the occasion for the separation.
When men willfully pervert the facts of history, or misrepresent the connection and bearing of these facts, they must have a motive, and candid men are justified in suspecting an end that can not be reached by straightforward, honorable means.
Northern Methodist preachers had become fanatical on the subject of the abolition of slavery—had recently discovered great moral wrong in the “peculiar institution,” and commenced a war upon everything that favored the existing relations of master and slave. All at once it was discovered that all the resolutions and pastoral address of 1836 were in sympathy with the “sum of all villainies,” and for that reason should be disregarded. It was discovered that ministers of the gospel were slaveholders—which had been the case from the beginning—and the most noted instance then existing was James O. Andrew, a man of unblemished character, unswerving integrity and singular purity of heart and life. Why not take him for a scapegoat? They needed one, for many of them had been connected with the same institution in one way or another. But how could they reach his case? Did the law of the Church cover the case? Did the constitution of the Church confer upon the General Conference the power to depose a Bishop because his wife had inherited a slave, and the laws of the State would not admit of emancipation? Could not a majority of the General Conference so interpret and construe the law that the case could be reached, and the “abolition movement” that had been unequivocally condemned eight years before be just as unequivocally indorsed now and greatly advanced by the great Methodist Church in the United States? And what if this assumption of constitutional power should be rejected? Aye, there was the rub. This was the cause. Admit the authority of the General Conference to depose a man from office for incidental or even positive complicity with slavery, and with it the right is established to depose a man from the ministry for complicity with democracy, republicanism, or any thing else purely political. The same authority extends to the ballotbox and all the distinctive privileges of citizenship.
There were other questions incidentally brought out at the Conference of 1844 which tested the animus of the delegates from the North, and disclosed the construction placed by their leaders upon the constitutional prerogatives of the college of Bishops.
Any one at all acquainted with ecclesiastical government can readily see how these questions could divide the Church whether slavery had an existence or not. The same questions have produced division in ecclesiastical bodies since slavery was abolished.