That Painting
- David Gebbie
- Oct 5, 2020
- 2 min read

Such is the dearth of illustrations of the Westminster Assembly that this 19th-century painting of Philip Nye sounding forth seems all but ubiquitous. The title of this work by J. R. Herbert is “The Independents Asserting Liberty of Conscience at the Westminster Assembly of Divines, 1644”. It was, Roland Ward tells us, commissioned by a Congregationalist minister by the name of James Massie for use in a lecture series on Liberty of Conscience. The painting is a depiction of Nye giving a speech on the 21st of February 1644. With outstretched arms, he is supposedly asserting “that, by God’s command, the magistrate is discharged to put the least discourtesy on any man, Turk, Papist, Socinian, or whatsoever, for his religion. They were for union in things necessary, for liberty in things unnecessary, and for charity in all.”
There are two problems here. The first is that Nye did not say that. The first part of the quote comes from a letter written by Robert Baillie months after the incident depicted in which he attributes such views to the Independents. The second part is a variation on a quote from either Marco Antonio de Dominis or Rupertus Meldenius which, in an English context, seems to have been used first by Richard Baxter, citing Meldenius, in 1679. The second is that while, as Baillie puts it, the Assembly was “full of prime nobles and chief members of both Houses”, some of the people depicted in the painting were not there. Richard Baxter, John Owen, Oliver Cromwell, John Milton, and Lord Maitland were not present; Josias Shute was dead; and, Daniel Featley was in prison.
Both Baillie and Lightfoot give something of the thrust of the actual speech made by Nye in the presence of the prominent politicians. His assertion was that ecclesiastical structures above that of a single congregation were pernicious to the authority of the state. His act of what Robert Paul calls “pure political expediency” brought down on him the displeasure of the Assembly. There were calls for his expulsion. However, the most serious censure that the Assembly could impose was that he was declared to have spoken against order.
So, we have a commemoration of what was not the Westminster Assembly’s finest hour. What does the painting say to us? Beware of grandstanding Independents. Historical fiction, in whatever medium, is fiction first and historical where it fits the narrative. Perhaps it is just the thought, as we turn from the picture and sigh, that for covenanted uniformity in religion, the game was worth the candle.
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