Since 1787, the language of the First Amendment has been continually reinterpreted amidst the turmoil of inconclusive controversies.¹ In the early days of the New Republic, the debates were as complex and rancorous as they are today, and competing positions were pressed by a diverse ideological spectrum. On one hand were free-thinking skeptics who envisioned a society founded on secular rationalism; on the other were traditionally-minded clergymen who feared for the nation's moral compass. Divisive issues abounded, but few were as troubling as those that affected the "Christian Sabbath," the most-cherished element in Reformed piety. A large proliferation of "moral societies" advocated the civil enforcement of "Sabbath legislation," and the issue provided a crucial testing-ground for theories of Church and State.

      It was scarcely necessary for moral societies to seek new legislation, since most communities had pre-existing statutes that already institutionalized (and prioritized) the observation of the Lord's Day. In Pennsylvania, the 1794 "Act for the Prevention of Vice and Immorality" forbade the "profanation" of the "Lord's day, commonly called Sunday."² With the explicit emphasis of Westminster's twenty-first chapter (and other Puritan antecedents),³ the battle for the Sabbath was given consistent priority over other "moral" issues. As Benjamin Rush, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, would explain,

Should I ever travel into a christian country, and wish to know whether the laws of that country were wise and just, and whether they were duly obeyed, the only question I would ask, should be "do the people spend Sunday at church, or in pleasurable entertainments at home and abroad?"⁴

This emphasis can also be seen in the Pennsylvania statute, which begins with a discussion of Sabbath profanation:

[Section I.]. . . . if any person shall do or perform any worldly employment or business whatsoever on the Lord's day, commonly called Sunday, works of necessity and charity only excepted, or shall use or practice any unlawful game, hunting, shooting, sport or diversion whatsoever, on the same day, and be convicted thereof, every such person, so offending, shall, for every such offence, forfeit and pay four dollars, to be levied by distress, or.he or she shall suffer six days' imprisonment in the house of correction of the proper county.⁵

Compared to the four-dollar fine for Sabbath profanation, the Law of 1794 rated profane swearing and excessive drinking at only 67 cents.⁶

      However, near Washington, Pennsylvania, the moral societies ran afoul of a young minister named Alexander Campbell, who charged them with Church-State collusion.⁷ Under the pen-name "Candidus," he delivered thirty-one articles that challenged the societies, their clerical champions, and the Law of 1794 itself. His articles were printed in the Washington, Pennsylvania Reporter from April of 1820 to February of 1822, and they raised the ire of local activists. Eventually, in February of 1821, a Presbyterian clergyman named Andrew Wylie assumed the pseudonym of "Timothy,"⁸ and through fifteen installments he became Campbell's primary adversary. Their polemics became quite harsh and frequently hinged on accusations, innuendoes, and tedious rhetorical swaggering,⁹ but the exchanges were ultimately substantial.

      Candidus launched his attack with the assertion that moral societies had been founded upon a "mistaken view," and were "subversive of the principles of true religion and civil liberty."¹⁰ Subsequently, he charged them with "anti-evangelical, anti-constitutional, and anti-rational" tendencies.¹¹ After six of these essays (and several puerile rejoinders from society supporters), the West Middletown Moral Association prevailed upon the Reporter to resurrect an address from the highly-respected Judge Jacob Rush, which defended the statute of 1794.¹² Candidus resumed his assaults, and Timothy joined the discussion soon after;¹³ inspired by worthy opposition, Candidus proposed eight propositions for debate:

      1st. The church and the state are different bodies politic, or the church differs from the state in the character of its subjects, of its laws, and of its discipline.
      2d. The church has jurisdiction over all its own members, in regard to their whole moral, and religious character.
      3d. The state has jurisdiction over all its own members in things civil and moral; but not in things religious.
      4th. The church, as such, has no jurisdiction over any individual out of the pale of her communion, or apart with visible connexion with her.
      5th. Religion and morality, though they are inseparably connected, as cause and effect, are so distinct as cause and effect. Religion comprehends our duty to God, and morality our duty to man.
      6th. The observance of a Sabbath or the sanctification of any day, is a duty of religion inasmuch as the constitution of a day for divine worship is placed amongst moral positive, and not amongst moral natural precepts.
      7th. The civil magistrate has "ex officio," a right to take under cognizance, all immoralities, that affect the life, liberty, property and reputation of the citizens of the community. But, no right, "ex officio" to take under cognizance, any thing belonging to the institutes of religion, such as the observance of baptism, the first day or the supper.
      8th. Every thing that interferes with perfect liberty of conscience is in Pennsylvania unconstitutional.¹⁴

Timothy cheerfully affirmed the bulk of these propositions, but he denied that Sabbath legislation was ever intended to force a religious observance; on the contrary, he argued that the Law of 1794 was merely designed to prohibit the public, offensive profanation of the day.¹⁵ In a remarkable display of ostensible obtusity, however, Candidus never seemed to understand this important distinction, and he never ceased to critique "coercion" and "forced observance."¹⁶

      For a Presbyterian like Wylie, the Sabbath was an enduring element of the Ten Commandments, and was naturally akin to other principles (such as blasphemy, murder, theft, and adultery) that were routinely regulated by civil legislation. For his part, Campbell also venerated the first day of the week, and in the words of Candidus he explained:

Far be it from my intention, and from my remarks to weaken the attachment of all true christians to the observance of the first day of the week, according to the christian institutes. It is, and it has long been a maxim with me, that he cannot be a christian who does not regard and sanctify the first day of the week to the Lord.¹⁷

For Campbell, however, the "Lord's day" was not a "Sabbath," because the Sabbath was an Old Testament institution. The Lord's Day, he argued, was an original ordinance of the New Testament church, and owed nothing to the Ten Commandments.¹⁸ Candidus devoted an entire article to this latter contention, and plainly stated

I do not believe that the Lords day came in room of the Jewish Sabbath, or that the Sabbath was changed from the seventh to the first day . . . there is no divine testimony that the Sabbath was changed or that the Lords day came in the room of it; therefore there can be no divine faith that the Sabbath was changed . . .¹⁹

With respect to the Old Testament Law, Campbell had publicly expressed his views in a debate with John Walker (June 1820),²⁰ an event that had not escaped Wylie's attention.²¹ Nonetheless, Timothy never seemed to comprehend the position that Candidus upheld, and he mistakenly asserted that it was irrelevant to the controversy.²² As the adversaries argued past each other, their tempers flared and the substance of their arguments suffered.

      In June of 1821, Timothy summarized his case with a list of seven arguments. First, he asserted that a magistrate must protect the "religious privileges" of Sabbath-observant Christians; for him, this protection entailed the prohibition of every kind of molestation, including the distractions of secular noise and traffic. Second, he argued that "all acts of immorality" (including Sabbath profanation) were "hostile to the prosperity of the community," and third, he declared that public acts of immorality (including Sabbath profanation) were destined to elicit "the vengeance of heaven." Fourth, he reasoned that a civil magistrate must protect public forms of religion from "contempt;" the Sabbath-breaker, therefore, was "guilty of not only sin against God, but an offence against the state." Fifth, he insisted that a well-ordered state would use the Sabbath to protect the "laboring classes of the community" from exhaustion, and sixth, he claimed the corroboration of biblical texts such as Neh 13:15-23. Finally, he argued from analogy: if profane swearing was punishable by law (as Candidus believed it should be),²³ then how, asked Timothy, could Sabbath profanation be different?²⁴

      In September of 1821, Candidus commenced a "new series" that was pledged to better principles, and he proceeded to answer Timothy's arguments.²⁵ His arrows, however, were still directed toward the straw man of "forced observance," and Timothy dismissed the entire production.²⁶ In his final installment (in February of 1822), Candidus delivered a caustic diatribe against Timothy's impertinence, and left him to the judgment of God.²⁷ In the later judgement of Robert Richardson, Timothy's arguments were "clearly overthrown,"²⁸ but this was predictable overstatement. In the end, neither contestant stood unscathed.

      Aside from Richardson's biased account,²⁹ Harold Lunger's synopsis of Richardson's account,³⁰ and my own dissertation,³¹ the Candidus controversy has gone virtually unnoticed in the annals of Campbell's Restoration Movement. The first eight articles were abridged and reprinted in 1898,³² but the full text has never been re-published. On this website, we are offering the thirty-one articles penned by Candidus, as well as Timothy's fifteen responses. The "address" from Judge Rush is forthcoming, and there will be various responses from lesser writers. These will include seven articles from "V. A. Flint," the only writer to ally himself with Candidus' unpopular cause.

      The microfilm is frequently distorted, and its image is often obscured by wrinkles in the master copy of The Reporter; nonetheless, through comparison with other articles (they frequently quote each other), and with the 1898 abridgement, the original text has been transcribed with a high degree of confidence. Every effort has been made to preserve the original spellings, typographical errors, and grammatical eccentricities, with the exception of periods (which are routinely neglected in the original). In most cases the articles are confined to a single page, but wherever page breaks occur, they are noted. Many thanks to Jeanne Cobb of the T. W. Phillips Library in Bethany, West Virginia, and to Ernie Stefanik of Derry, Pennsylvania, for their assistance in securing copies of the microfilm. Thanks also to Ernie for his eagle-eyed proofreading, and his expertise with HTML. Errors are inevitable in any transcription, but this project will hopefully reflect the nuances of the debate, and inspire further examination.