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Ue) rane) ana Rieke ih: on iy eh as Ma . ke fas ; ya vs \ J eS gue yyy ‘ } Sh >, od AN \ OUR UNI TA RI Ake! sica sent” HERITAGE An Introduction to the History of the Unitarian Movement BY a EARL MORSE WILBUR PRESIDENT OF THE PACIFIC UNITARIAN SCHOOL FOR THE MINISTRY BOSTON RH ESBEACONSPRESSWINe: 25 BEACON STREET ~~avWd fi icin : AN UF Hiei, yl, | € ‘ ‘ A p a > 4 a ae ik | : .. ¥ < d ie | t« ue * 7 a ssid Fy es / ’ q ‘ ci we'd i“ In ' > : Yep 1925, By THE BEACON PRESS, inch All rights reserved PRINTED IN U. 8. A. PREFACE The present work has been prepared by request of the Department of Religious Education as a part of The Beacon Course. No one else can regret so much as the author that the preparation of it has been so long protracted; but the collection and working over a vast amount of material in nine different languages, which was essential to a satisfactory product, has involved great difficulties, and the whole has had to be done subject to the prior demands of an exacting office. The work is primarily designed for the use of young people presumed to be sixteen or seventeen years of age, and this fact has of course dictated scope, selection of materials, and method of treatment. It has been necessary to study the utmost compression consistent with a just treatment of the subject, and even now the work is longer by half than would have been desirable. Much more space should be given to the doctrinal element which has bulked so large in the actual movement, but this would not have been to the purpose intended. It would also have been desirable to quote generously from authorities used, to give full references to sources, and to state convincing reasons for positions taken; but these things would have served another public than the one for which the work was designed. Despite these limitations, however, the author would say that he has writ- ten as far as possible directly from the sources, and has used every endeavor to make his work as careful and accurate as if its display of scholarship were greater. In the nearly forty years since the publication of Pro- ili 1V PREFACE fessor Allen’s Historical Sketch (the only work hitherto that could make any real claim to being a history of Unitarian- ism), many new sources have been brought to light, and much has been published bearing especially on the European phases of the subject. The present work is therefore able to give for the first time in English much interesting and important material; and in spite of its being somewhat elementary in scope and popular in form, the author ventures to hope that it may be found quite the most adequate treatment of the subject as yet produced. If permitted, however, to continue his studies in this field, he hopes some years hence to present a work much more complete, and duly fortified with all the authorities that a history should give. For assistance given him the author is indebted to more kind friends than can be named here; but he wishes especially to acknowledge his obligation to the following persons who have read one or other of the several divisions in manuscript, and have made many helpful suggestions: the Rev. William Laurence Sullivan of New York; the Rev. Alexander Gordon of Belfast, Ireland; Professor George Rapall Noyes of the University of California; Professor Stanislaw Kot of the University of Krakow, Poland; Professor George Boros of the Unitarian College, Kolozsvar, Transylvania; Professors J. Estlin Carpenter and James Edwin Odgers of Manchester College, Oxford ; and the late Rev. William Channing Gannett of Rochester, N. Y. . It is hoped that the Index will facilitate the use of the work, and especially the pronunciation of the large number of foreign names occurring in the text. Rome, March 7, 1925. IMPORTANT DATES IN UNITARIAN HISTORY THE EARLY CHRISTIAN CHURCH CH15U c. 260 318-380 325 380 381 388 431 451 Apostles’ Creed composed. Paul of Samosata and Sabellius flourish. The Arian Controversy. Council of Nicza: the Nicene Creed adopted. Theodosius makes acceptance of the doctrine of the Trinity compulsory. Council of Constantinople adopts the revised Nicene Creed. Arianism suppressed in the Western Roman Empire. Council of Ephesus. Council of Chalcedon. c. 460 ? Athanasian Creed composed, THE REFORMATION AGE: Pioneer UNITARIANS 1509 1510 1511 ec. 1515 1516 1517 1525 1526 1527 1530 1531 1532 1539 1542 1550 1553 Calvin born. Francis David born. Servetus born. Biandrata born. Erasmus’s Greek New Testament. Beginning of the Protestant Reformation. Rise of Anabaptism. Equal toleration granted in the Grisons to Protestants and Catholics. Cellarius publishes the earliest book against the doctrine of the Trinity. Diet of Augsburg; the Augsburg Confession. Servetus publishes De Trinitatis Hrroribus. Servetus publishes Dialogues on the Trinity. Order of Jesuits founded. Faustus Socinus born. Italian Inquisition established. Anabaptist Council at Venice accepts humanity of Christ. Servetus publishes Christianismi Restitutio: condemned to Vv vi DATES IN UNITARIAN HISTORY 1562 1563 1564 1566 death at Vienne; burned at the stake at Geneva, October 27. Lelius Socinus dies at Ziirich. Ochino publishes Dialogues and is banished from Ziirich, Calvin dies at Geneva. Ochino is banished from Poland and dies in Moravia. Helvetic Confession adopted by the Swiss churches. Gentile beheaded at Bern. POLAND AND SOCINIANISM 1546 Antitrinitarianism first appears in Poland. 1555 Gonesius attacks the doctrine of the Trinity of Sece- min. 1558 Biandrata comes from Geneva to Poland. Pinczow Reformed Church becomes Antitrinitarian. 1563 Biandrata leaves Poland for Transylvania. 1564 Jesuits enter Poland. 1565 Diet of Piotrkow: Minor Reformed Church organized. 1569 Rakow founded. 1570 Consensus Sandomiriensis. : 1573 Pax Dissidentiwm establishes religious toleration in Poland. 1574 Schomann’s Catechism published in Poland. 1579 Faustus Socinus comes to Poland. 1588 Socinus unites all the Antitrinitarian factions at the Synod of Brest. 1591 Socinian meeting-place at Krakow destroyed by a mob. 1598 Socinus mobbed at Krakow. Ostorod and Wojdowski introduce Socinianism into Holland. 1603 Socinus dies at Luclawice. 1605 Racovian Catechism published. 1611 Jan Tyskiewicz burned at the stake at Warsaw. 1616 Socinian students expelled from Altorf. 1638 Socinians driven from Rakow. 1658 Polish Diet decrees banishment of Socinians. 1660 Socinians finally banished from Poland, July 10. 1742 Last persecution of Socinians in Holland. 1784 Socinian church at Kolozsvar disbands. 1811 Socinianism becomes extinct in Prussia. TRANSYLVANIA 1510 Francis David born. 1540 John Sigismund born. 1555 1557 1558 1563 1564 1566 1568 1569 1571 1574 1578 1579 1603 1638 1660 1691 1693 1716 1780 1781 1821 1857 1873 ENGLAND c. 1380 1525 1534 1550 DATES IN UNITARIAN HISTORY vii David becomes Lutheran. David become Lutheran bishop. Diet of Torda decrees equal toleration to Protestants and Catholics. Thomas Aran publishes a book against the doctrine of the Trinity. Biandrata comes from Poland to Transylvania. Diet of Torda extends toleration to Calvinists. David becomes Reformed bishop. David begins open opposition to the doctrine of the Trinity. Trinity debated at Gyulafehervar and Torda. Debate on Trinity at Gyulafchervar, March 8-17. Kolozs- var becomes Unitarian. David successfully pleads for full toleration at Diet of Torda. David becomes Unitarian bishop. Unitarian Church in Transylvania organizes. : Debate on Trinity at Nagyvarad, October 10-15. Rights of the Unitarian Church confirmed at Diet of Maros Vasarhely. John Sigismund dies, March 15. George Alvinczi hanged in Hungary for denying the doctrine of the Trinity. Socinus comes from Basel to Kolozsvar. David is tried for innovation, condemned, and dies in prison, November 15. Moses Szekely killed in battle. Complanatio Deesiana adopted. Polish exiles arrive at Kolozsvar. Diploma Leopoldinum issued. Unitarians lose their school at Kolozsvar. Unitarians lose the great church at Kolozsvar. Joseph II issues Edict of Toleration. Szent Abrahami’s Summa Theologie published. English and Transylvenian Unitarians discover each other. Austrian government attempts to destroy Unitarian schools. Unitarian church organized at Budapest. Wyclif’s translation of the Bible. Tyndale’s New Testament. The English Reformation. Church of the Strangers established in London, viil DATES IN UNITARIAN HISTORY 1651 1565 1612 1615/6 1647 1648 1651/2 1654 1655 1662 1662 1676 1687 1689 1695 1698 1702 1703 1712 1719 1723 1735 1766 1772 1774 1783 1791 1794 1804 1806 1808 1813 1817 1819 1825 1828 1830-42 1844 1871 Dr. George van Parris burned at the stake. Aconzio’s Stratagems of Satan published. Bartholomew Legate and Edward Wightman burned at the stake. John Bidle born. Bidle’s XII. Arguments. Bidle’s Confession of Faith. Racovian Catechism published in London and ordered burned. Bidle’s Twofold Catechism. Bidle banished to the Scilly Islands. Bidle dies, September 22. Act of Uniformity. Law for burning of heretics repealed in England. Nye’s Brief History of the Unitarians. Toleration Act. Locke’s Reasonableness of Christianity. Blasphemy Act. Emlyn’s Humble Inquiry. Emlyn is imprisoned at Dublin. Clarke’s Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity. Exeter Arian Controversy. Salters’ Hall Assembly. Theophilus Lindsey born. Joseph Priestley born. Blackburne’s Confessional. Feathers’ Tavern Petition. Lindsey opens Essex Hall Chapel, April 17. Society for Promoting Knowledge of the Scriptures. Unitarian Book Society. Birmingham riots. Priestley emigrates to America. Priestley dies. Unitarian Fund. Improved Version of the New Testament. Blasphemy Act repealed. Wolverhampton Chapel case. Association for Protection of Civil Rights of Unitarian British and Foreign Unitarian Association formed, May 25. Repeal of Test and Corporation Acts. Lady Hewley Case. Dissenters’ Chapels Act. Tests abolished at English universities, DATES IN UNITARIAN HISTORY 1x AMERICA 1740 1785 1805 1815 1818-20 1819 1825 1838 1841 1852 1865 1867 1875 1890 1896 1900 1908 1919 1925 Great Awakening. King’s Chapel Liturgy. Sherman’s One God in One Person Only. Henry Ware elected Hollis Professor at Harvard. “American Unitarianism” published. The Dedham Case. Channing’s Baltimore Sermon. American Unitarian Association formed, May 25. Emerson’s Divinity School Address. Parker’s South Boston Sermon. Western Unitarian Conference formed. National Conference of Unitarian Churches, Free Religious Association. Year Book Controversy. National Alliance. Young People’s Religious Union. International Congress of Free Christians. National Federation of Religious Liberals. Laymen’s League. General Conference merged with the American Unitarian Association. g e Met 4 7 ‘ + ; : i ar ; | ». yp heh gaa k - ~ ; 77 . at aM (or cae baa oA f a’ Se itaucr. € bw eal se fh eli Sale ayy? : oY ‘ “ v UMS aT ip GA ube bl ' ? ; ; eibib' > cee "a4 : - ’ vs . 0 J ; Rt t “ ‘a ni tet nus «aa at CONTENTS PREFACE . IMpoRTANT Dares IN UNITARIAN History . DIVISION I. CHRISTIANITY BEFORE UNITARIANISM Chapter I. Religion as a Heritage . : : Chapter II. The Religion of the New Testament : Chapter III. The Development of Christian Doctrine down to the Council of Nicwa, 325 a.p. Chapter IV. The Council of Nicea and the Develop- ment of the Doctrine of the ae to 381 A.D. Chapter V. The Completion of the Osthoder Theol- ogy, to 451 A.D. : . DIVISION II. SCATTERED PIONEERS OF UNITARIANISM IN EUROPE Chapter VI. The Protestant Reformation and the Be- ginnings of Modern Waker ccune 1517- 1530 Chapter VII. Antitrinitarianism among ae Barly jv baptists, 1517-1530 . ; Chapter VIII. Michael Servetus: stare Life, 1511- 1532 ; Chapter IX. Antitrinitarianism in Nerinern eles i 1517-1558 eit cat's ine Chapter X. Antitrinitarianism in the Gators » 1542- 1579 eta stil Chapter XI. Servetus in Tteek: 1532- 1553 : Chapter XII. The Trial and Execution of Servetus at Geneva, 15538 A Ay AUS bed ete xi 19 27 37 43 52 65 70 79 88 xii Chapter XIII. Chapter XIV. DIVISION Chapter XV. Chapter XVI. Chapter XVII. Chapter XVIII. XIX, XX, Chapter Chapter DIVISION IV. Chapter XXI. Chapter XXII. Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter DIVISION Chapter XXVITI. XXIII. XXIV; XKYV. AVI: CONTENTS Antitrinitarianism at Geneva after Ser- vetus, 1553-1566 Antitrinitarian Tendencies at Ziirich and Basel, 15538-1572 111 III. UNITARIANISM IN POLAND The Beginnings of Antitrinitarianism in Poland, down to 1565 . yes The Organization and Growth of the Antitrinitarian Churches in Poland, 1565-1579 135 Faustus Socinus and the Full Develo ment of Socinianism in Poland, 1579- 1638 . PP AT i! so The Decline and Fall of Socihianigit® and Its Banishment from Poland, 1638-1660 yee The Socinians in Exile 1660- 1803 . ASCO SD Socinianism in Holland, 1598-1750 . 195 UNITARIANISM IN TRANSYLVANIA. Down to the Beginning of Unitarianism in Transylvania in 1564 PB 19, Francis David and the Rise of Unita- rianism in Transylvania, 1564-1569 . 220 Unitarianism in Transylvania until the Death of Francis David, 1569-1579 Unitarianism in Transylvania after David’s Death, 1579-1690: a Century of Calvinist Oppression ost ahaa Unitarianism in Transylvania under Austrian Rule, 1690-1867: a Century and a Quarter of Catholic Oppression The Unitarian Churches of Hungary in the Twentieth Century. pe V. UNITARIANISM IN ENGLAND The Pioneers of Unitarianism in Eng- land, to 1644 . . 285 259 Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter DIVISION VI. XXXIV. Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter XXXVIII. \ APPENDIX: Index XXVIII. OE DS XXX, XXXI. XXXIT. XX XITT. XXXV. XXXVI. XXXVIT. CONTENTS John Bidle and His Sas 1644-1697 Unitarianism sguale th in he fener of England: the Trinitarian Con- troversy, 1690-1750 Unitarianism Spreads among the Dis- senting Churches: the Arian Move- ment, 1703-1750 The Unitarian Revolt from the Church of England: Theophilus Lindsey Organized the First Uni- tarian Church, 1750-1808 The Liberal Dissenting Churches be- come openly Unitarian under the Leadership of Die a Aaa 1750-1804 English Unitarianism in the Ne teenth Century . UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA The Beginnings of Unitarianism in America, 1750-1805 The Unitarian Controversy in Amer- ica, 1805-1835 Rays American Unitarianism Trying to Find Itself: Internal Controversy and Development, 1835-1865 . American Unitarianism Organized and Expanding, 1865—-1925' The Meaning and Lesson of Unitar- ian History . Bata eons The Three Great Creeds of Early Christianity Xi PAGE weauo . 812 . 328 . 848 357 . 369 Bi afer’) . 406 - 428 . 449 . 467 471 » ATT Mio tdi Rea nd Ma pcan ER tee uC ae : io coe, 3f | es ‘ ‘ ae oe f ox: apy p Shh) ue: s ‘ iy PY aS, ia S oes ae ‘i ii ee = m a 04 # - Be oo ae MERON ee ee A * 2 Tein. Wey \ ; ay Raa a Hen . Seri ‘ BAY a rest pay) Pkok ait , , ; 4 de ey rey i haan A, Lal tana ee rcs pene el ae is tetedek Mice (ket > , eH) Ane as “4 4 ai s wa , a 8 > ini « . ie bY Ee iN | SY Game a " fie) nA ‘ ¥ ; La : “agai YS i ge Par aliae hee i ae wit) ee aaa + Seek Sn ce, sat 3 ats Pea if. rx sgh 4) 1a ae RN es iy) i cannes uence PKG aPC aN ed Sek a re as i kb ey it ‘ me ie eats. ia MAL e Sat 2) es Ayn . 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Sa MCN Goa r meae © fee he Dirt a wee my ivi M f pid iy (ieee STE e) ig ora iY Wy: Sate Me if é ist > ‘dd a ee ee Pe amie SA : : cae erat Ta ae sys NR Soni. ‘ “ 4 rae a ‘ Re. . a OD ¥ aor ie brit is F f (tn .4 , 7 Hay ; uy Cos | + aw Lape chars oe if es " wes A y ¥ weg oe the DIVISION I CHRISTIANITY BEFORE UNITARIANISM 2 ‘ Sree ae te oe a a ie OER EOE anh ‘a ved ADL PAAR eam te ate) uf sia “PAS! j OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE CHAPTER I RELIGION AS A HERITAGE Our religious faith, as the title of this book implies, is a heritage. We did not form it independently for ourselves. Many of us did not even choose it, but instead received it as a precious legacy, bequeathed to us by those who have cher- ished it before us. Of course it ought to be much more than merely this. If it is to amount to anything vital, it should include at least these three elements: a profound conviction on some of the greatest subjects of thought, a sacred per- sonal experience hallowing the deepest part of our lives, and above all a way of living as children of God. Yet none of even these things wholly originated with ourselves; for to no small extent our convictions were implanted in us, our expe- riences were cultivated within us, and our way of life was trained into us, by others. The religion of some people, in- deed, seems to be an inheritance and little else, a tradition handed down to them by others, rather than a matter of personal conviction, experience, or principle; although even such a religion may yet make a very important difference in their lives. Inasmuch, then, as our religion has to a very considerable degree come down to us from the past, we must, if we would appreciate anything like its full meaning, know its past his- 4 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE tory. We shall appreciate more deeply the value of our religious faith if we once come to realize how much it has cost others to win what they have freely bequeathed to us: the thinkers who have labored over its problems, the apostles who have spent their lives in spreading the knowledge of it among men, the saints who have made its history sacred, the confessors who have endured reproach and loss, persecution and exile for it, and the noble army of martyrs who have suffered death rather than be untrue to it. The meaning of the religious faith we hold, and the price it has cost to se- cure it to us: these are the two points most strongly sug- gested by the title, “Our Unitarian Heritage,” and it is these that we shall try to keep constantly in view as we follow the course of its history. We are familiar enough with this point of view in connec- tion with our national life. As mere citizens we might in any case have been fairly satisfied with our native land, even though we had done nothing to make it what it is, but had simply entered into it as an inheritance from our fore- fathers. But when we read the history of our country, when we see how our fathers had to toil to subdue the wilder- ness, how they fought and bled to make it free, strove to de- velop its institutions, and struggled to defend it against its enemies, that they might leave it free and strong to their children—it is only then that we begin to appreciate what our country really means to us, to realize what its free in- stitutions cost, to love it with patriotic love, and to feel that if need be we too would gladly suffer and die for it; and that in any event we will do all in our power to keep it forever a land of freedom and justice to all. It is quite the same with regard to the inheritance we have received in our religious faith, We may have been simply born into it, and may always have taken it for RELIGION AS A HERITAGE 5 granted. We may never have had to struggle to win re- ligious freedom, nor to sacrifice or suffer to maintain it. But when we have once read its history, and have seen how in earlier generations many men in many lands had to strug- gle, to sacrifice, to suffer, and in not a few cases even to die, before we could inherit our free faith, and how ear- nestly even in happier times and at smaller cost devoted men have labored to make religious faith purer, more reasonable, and more inspiring with each new age; then we can not fail to appreciate as never before the faith which we hold, and we shall our own selves wish to be loyal to it, and to prove ourselves worthy of the freedom it gives us. For this is to be the story of a progresstve movement toward perfect freedom of thought and speech im religion, a freedom which has been won only in the face of odds some- times overwhelming, and at a cost that no one, thank God, is in our time called upon to pay. It is a history rich in its saints and sages, its heroes and martyrs, and it is full of deeds of bravery that kindle the blood. The roots of this religious faith go back, of course, to earliest Christian times ; and the glory and the inspirations of fifteen centuries of the history of the undivided Christian Church belong to it in common with all Christendom. But the story of this particular religious movement begins scarcely four hundred years ago, early in the period of the Protestant Refor- mation. In tracing the story of the development of our faith dur- ing these four centuries, it will not be enough for us merely to get hold of the facts of a past history. Our study of these will be to little purpose if we do not at the same time get a proper sense of what they mean for us in our own time, and of the obligation they lay upon us as possessors of a heritage that is precious and costly. As an early 6 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Christian writer wrote of a similar situation,’ we ought to realize that, although these heroes of our faith bore a good witness in their day, God has also placed upon us a sacred duty to continue and complete their work, since without us they will not be made perfect. 1 Hebrews 11: 39, 40. CHAPTER II THE RELIGION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT The common notion of Unitarianism is that it is a system of doctrine centering about belief in one God in one person , (as contrasted with the Trinitarian belief in one God in— three persons), and the closely related belief in the true hu- manity of Jesus (as contrasted with the Trinitarian belief in his deity, or supreme divinity). Unitarians who best understand their movement, however, attach much less im- portance to-day to these or any other particular doctrines than to certain fundamental principles of religion, center- ing around freedom and reason. In fact, as a matter of history, although it was the Unitarian doctrines that were first developed, and although these have been made espe- cially prominent through controversy, and have been the occasion of long continued persecution, yet almost from the first Unitarians laid strong emphasis upon the importance of religious freedom, and asserted the rights of reason in religion; and the further the movement has proceeded, the more the emphasis has been shifted from its doctrines to its underlying principles. While we shall need, therefore, throughout the whole of our study, to keep in view the doc- trines associated with this movement, we should remember that this is in its most important aspect a progressive move- ment toward a fuller use of reason, and a more perfect en- joyment of liberty in religion. The history of modern Unitarianism begins, as we have 7 8 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE said, early in the period of the Protestant Reformation. That is to say, we can not trace any continuous develop- ment of Unitarian thought back of that time. Yet it has often been maintained that Unitarianism is simply a re- turn from corrupted doctrines of orthodox Christianity to the pure religion of the New Testament. We shall so fre- quently see this claim asserted in the course of our history that we must at the outset inquire how far it is justified. Since Unitarianism from the sixteenth century on has also been largely characterized by its protests against the doc- trines known as orthodox, we must also get our start toward an understanding of the movement by trying to discover what those doctrines were which the fathers of our faith felt obliged, even at the risk of their lives, to disbelieve and oppose, and how and why they came to grow up out of the simple religion of Jesus and his first disciples. Understand- ing these things, we shall be able at the same time to judge them more fairly. For it is possible to trace every stage of the process by which, in the course of five or six centuries or less, the simple religion of the parables and the sermon on the mount was gradually transformed into the elaborate doctrines of the Nicene and the Athanasian Creeds. This we shall now proceed briefly to do. To learn, then, what Jesus and his earliest disciples taught, we have to turn to the first three Gospels. These were written probably between 70 and about 100 a. p., hence from one to two generations after the death of Jesus. They therefore date from a time when the primitive belief had already begun to undergo change, and when that long process had commenced which we are about to trace, and which ended in the doctrines of the Trinity and the Deity of Christ. Yet these Gospels also show many traces of the earlier and simpler belief, as it existed in the very time RELIGION OF. THE NEW TESTAMENT 9 of Jesus; and it is these traces that we shall first notice. To begin with, there is in these three Gospels not the re- motest suggestion of the doctrine of the Trinity. Such a doctrine would have seemed to Jesus or any other Jew of his age as little short of blasphemy; for during long cen- turies of their national humiliation no other conviction had been so deeply burned into the consciousness of the Jewish people as their belief in the absolute and unqualified oneness of God. In fact, down to this very day, nothing else has proved such an impassable barrier to the reception of Chris- tianity by the Jews, as has the doctrine of the Trinity, which has seemed to them to undermine the very cornerstone of their religion.” In these Gospels we find Jesus simply re- garded as the Messiah—a man, sent of God for a high pur- pose, endowed with superior powers, yet dependent upon God, acknowledging himself not so good as God, and limited in knowledge, authority, and power.* This primitive belief long survived among a little sect of Jewish Christians known as Ebionites. They early became separated from the rest of the Christian Church and lived an isolated life east of the Jordan, and as late as the fifth century they retained their original belief in the unity of God, and in the pure humanity and the natural birth of Jesus. When we turn to the writings of Paul, a short generation after Jesus, we find this simple, natural view of Jesus al- ready becoming transformed. In the epistles bearing Paul’s name (some of them doubtless written after his time, though 1The text which might to some seem most clearly to imply this doctrine (Matthew 28:19), apart from the strong suspicion of its late origin, does not imply that each of the three is God, still less that the three are one. 2The same obstacle has effectually prevented any large spread of Christianity among Mohammedans. 3 See Mark 14:36; 15:34; 10:18; 13:32; 10:40; 6:5, 10 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE more or less resembling his thought), and written from 53 to 64 a. p. or later, the figure of Jesus, receding into the dis- tance of the past as Paul and his fellow-Christians rever- ently contemplate it, has grown less distinct, but at the same time grander. He is still sometimes referred to as a man, but more often as Lord; he is spoken of as sent from heaven, where he existed with God before the creation of the world; God is said to have created the world through his agency; he is regarded as in a sense divine, though still as subor- dinate to God.? In the fourth Gospel, ascribed to the apostle John, but now believed to have been written by a later Christian, per- haps about 125 a.p., we find a yet more exalted view of Jesus. He is here identified with the Word, or Logos; and since this term plays so large a part in the following de- velopment of belief about Jesus, we must pause here to ex- plain it. The conception is supposed to have grown up somewhat as follows: philosophers in the first century were accustomed to think of God as being, in his perfect wisdom and holiness, so far superior to this imperfect and sinful world that he could not be supposed himself to have had any- thing directly to do with the creation or with men. But Philo, a Jewish philosopher of Alexandria, discovered in the Old Testament certain passages seeming to refer to a sort of personified Wisdom, or Word, or Logos, through which as an intermediate being God had created the world and com- municated with man.” This Logos thus seemed to him to bridge the great gulf otherwise existing between God and his world. At the same time there was also in the Greek tSee Romans 5:15; I Corinthians 15:21, 27, 45, 47; 12:8; 8:6; II Corinthians 4:5; 5:21; 12:8, 9; Colossians 1:15-17, 19; 2:9; Philip- pians 2:6, 7. 2K. g., Psalm 33:6; 147:15; Isaiah 55:11; Jeremiah 23:29; Proverbs 8,49: RELIGION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT 11 philosophy of the period a belief that a divine Logos, or Reason,! was manifested in the universe as a kind of world- soul. These two views, then, the one Jewish and the other Greek, became more or less blended in Jewish and Greek thought from the end of the first century, and this Logos idea became widely accepted by both Jews and Greeks as one of the staple elements in their religious teaching, because it solved for them what they felt to be a critical religious problem—how sinful man might come into harmony with the perfect God. Now the great purpose of the author of the fourth Gospel was to recommend the Christian religion to those who held this Logos view, by showing them that the Logos was none other than Jesus himself, the founder of that religion, who had been with God in the beginning, had been his agent in the creation of the world, and had at length taken the form of a human being, thus becoming one through whom the holy God and sinful men might be brought together. The Logos doctrine in this Gospel was the highest point reached in the development of the New Testament teaching about Je- sus; but although it sometimes almost seems to make Jesus one with God, in other passages it makes it clear neverthe- less that he was less than God, and derived his being, and all his power and authority, from him.” It was directly from this Logos doctrine, however, that the development followed which in the fourth century ended in the fully de- veloped doctrines of the Trinity and the Deity of Christ. That further progress of Christian thought we are now ready to follow. 1The Greek word Logos meant both word, and reason. 2See John 1:1-14; 14:6, 9, 11; 8:23, 58; 10:30. Also 14:28; 3:35; 5:19, 22, 26, 30; 7:16; 8:28; 17:21. CHAPTER ITI THE DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE DOWN TO THE COUNCIL OF NICAA, 325 A. D. In the last chapter we traced the development of the New Testament teaching about Jesus, and saw that there was a steady progress of thought which began by regarding Je- sus as truly human, simply a man, and ended by regarding him as the Logos, in some sense divine, and little less than God; though there was as yet no doctrine of the Trinity, and no belief in the complete deity of Christ. But the Logos doctrine of the fourth Gospel furnished the germ out of which within the next two or three centuries those doc- trines were to develop. We must now follow the steps which this further development took. After all the immediate disciples of Jesus had passed away, and the Apostolic Age had come to an end with the close of the first century, there followed for something more than a hundred years what is known as the Age of the Apol- ogists, during which Christians had to defend their new re- ligion against the attacks of Jews or of Pagans, and were trying to prove it superior to the older religions. The writ- ers who made this defense are known as the Apologists. Some of their writings have come down to us, and form the earliest Christian literature after the New ‘Testament. They themselves were the earliest Christian theologians, try- ing to state their religious beliefs in systematic form; and 12 DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE 13 their writings therefore serve to show us how Christian doc- trines were taking shape. The problem they were all ear- nestly trying to solve, in order to state the philosophy of Christianity in such a way that educated Greeks might ac- cept it, was this: How was the Logos (now fully accepted as a fixed item in Christian thought) related to the infinite and eternal God on the one hand, and to the man Jesus of Nazareth on the other? They could not hope to see Chris- tianity make much progress in the Greek world until this problem was satisfactorily solved. Yet it was a difficult problem, for the nearer they made him to God, the more unreal his human life seemed to be; while the more fully they recognized his humanity, the farther he seemed to be from God. It is these Apologists that take the next steps leading from the simpler teaching of the New Testament, far toward the doctrine of the Deity of Christ, as we shall now see by looking briefly at what four of the most prominent of them wrote. Justin Martyr had been a Greek philosopher before his conversion to Christianity. As a Christian he wrote at Rome, some time after the year 140, two Apologies and other writings in defense of Christianity. In these he teaches that the divine Reason, or Logos, was begotten by God, as his first-born, before the creation of the world. Through him God created the world. He was a distinct person from God, and inferior to him, yet he might be wor- shiped as a divine being. He became a man upon earth in the person of Jesus. Ireneus, who had been born in Asia Minor, went as mis- sionary to southern Gaul, and there in 178 he became Bishop of Lyons. He wrote a book against heresies, in which he taught that the Logos existed before the creation of the world, and was God’s first-born Son. The Logos was 4 | OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE thus truly divine, although distinct from God and inferior to him; and he became a man in Jesus, and suffered as a man, in order to bring mankind nearer to God. Clement of Alexandria was born in the Greek religion, but after his conversion to Christianity he became the most emi- nent Christian philosopher of his time, and had great influ- ence on the thought of the Eastern Church. In works writ- ten after 190 he teaches that the Logos was in the begin- ning with God, and was somehow God, and hence deserved to be worshiped; and yet he was below the Father in rank. In Jesus he became a man, that we might learn from him how a man may become God. Clement also took a further step toward the doctrine of the Trinity, when he spoke of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as a “holy triad.” Tertullian was born at Carthage about 150, and was a pagan in religion until middle life; but after his conversion to Christianity he became as influential in the thought of the Western Church as Clement was in the Eastern. In his writings he teaches that the Son (or Logos) existed before creation, and was of one substance with God, though dis- tinct from him and subordinate to him. He was born upon earth as Jesus; and Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are mys- teriously united into a trintty—a term which Tertullian was the first to introduce. These four examples are enough to show what was going on in Christian thought during the century after the fourth Gospel appeared. There was a growing tendency, while still insisting that Christ was less than God, to regard him more and more as divine. Yet in this tendency there were two dangers. As theologians speculated upon the Logos, they were more and more losing sight of the human charac- ter of Jesus, and there was a fear lest Christianity should presently find itself worshiping two divine beings instead of DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE § 15 one God. This latter danger was keenly felt by those who regarded the religion of the Roman Empire, in which it was customary to deify and worship the Emperors. So that in opposition to the beliefs we have above noticed as growing up, a contrary tendency also asserted itself, and spread widely, under the name of Monarchianism. 'The Monarch- lans were strict monotheists. They objected that if Father, Son, and Holy Spirit were all divine, then Christianity had three Gods; and they insisted instead that God was one person as well as one being. There were two persons closely associated with this op- posing view whose names deserve to be mentioned and re- membered in a history of Unitarianism. One was Paul of Samosata. He became in 260 Bishop of Antioch, the most important see in the Eastern Church. He taught that though Jesus was originally a man like other men, he gradu- ally became divine, and finally became completely united with God. He was accused of heresy by theological and ! political enemies, and after three trials was at length de- posed from his office and excommunicated from the Church, about 268. Various Unitarians in later times held views more or less resembling his, and they were therefore some- times called Samosatenians or Paulianists. More famous yet, though of his life little is now known, was Sabellius, whose teaching proved very attractive to large numbers. He sought to preserve the unity of God, and at the same time to make the mystery of the Trinity more easy to comprehend, by teaching that the one God manifested himself in three different ways, as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. But this teaching seemed to his oppo- nents to make Christ unreal, a mere reflection of another being, and it was therefore condemned as a heresy, and Sabel- lius himself was excommunicated from the church at Alexan- 16 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE dria, about 260. Sabellianism, however, did not become extinct, for it has often reappeared in Christian history down to this very day. Not only have Unitarians often held Sabellian views, and often been called Sabellians by the or- thodox, but professed Trinitarians have often given their explanation of the Trinity in Sabellian terms, and have thus really been heretical. The great popularity of these Monarchian views in the third century shows that the movement toward the doctrine of the Trinity did not go on without much opposition; and Tertullian complains of how in his time the majority of Christians, being ignorant (of philosophical speculations), still hold to the simple unity of God, and are mistrustful of the Trinity. After Monarchianism had been suppressed, various at- tempts were made to state the relation of Christ + to God in some way which should avoid Sabellianism on the one hand, and tritheism on the other. One ofthese attempts was em- bodied in the view known as Arianism; and this has had such important relations with Unitarianism, and it comes up so often in the course of Unitarian history, that it de- serves to be made as clear as possible. The bishop of Alex- andria, Alexander by name, about 318 tried to make the matter clearer by teaching that Christ had never had a be- ginning any more than God himself, that he had always been the Son of God, “eternally begotten” by him, and that he was of the same essential being or nature with the Father.” Now there was in Alexandria a certain presbyter (priest or minister) of one of the parish churches, Arius 1The term Logos was now passing out of use, and was becoming re- placed by Christ, or the Son. 2 The language of the creeds is, “of one substance with the Father”; but the word “substance” in this connection is misleading to the average reader. DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN DOCTRINE 17 by name, who felt bound to oppose this teaching. ‘Arius was a man well on in years, grave in manner, keen in argu- ment, extremely self-denying in his life, and highly respected in the city for his piety and his work among the lower classes. He urged that this teaching of Alexander was mere Sabellianism, and that it practically meant belief in two Gods. He held, on the contrary, that Christ was not equal to God, but inferior to him; that he did not exist with God from all eternity, but was created by him before the crea- tion of the world; that he was not of the same “substance” with the Father, but was created out of nothing. This was , Arianism: the belief that Christ, though a being far above | man, was yet less than God; that he was created before'the creation of the world; and that he was of a different nature from either God or man. It will be well to recall this defini- tion whenever Arianism is referred to in the course of the following history. Controversy over the question now became general, and lasted some three years. ‘The bishop at length commanded Arius to change his views; but Arius, as he wrote to a friend, said he would die a thousand deaths sooner than assent to opinions he did not believe. He was accordingly deposed from office along with several of his followers, was excom- municated from the Church by a council at Alexandria in 321, and banished from the city “as an atheist.” He then travelled widely in Syria and Asia Minor, finding many to take his part, and some of these of great influence; and the whole East was soon aflame with the controversy. He even secured so much support that he was able to return to his work at Alexandria, where he had many followers, but this did not end the trouble. The fires of controversy were now beyond control; and not only bishops but even the common people were quarrelling throughout many of the eastern 18 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE provinces to such an extent that the Emperor himself felt compelled to take notice. He sent his personal represen- tative to Alexandria to get the parties to compose their quarrels, but in vain. Nothing remained but to call a gen- eral council of the churches throughout the Empire, and submit the case to that for settlement. The council thus called to settle the questions in dispute in the Arian controversy was known as the Council of Ni- cea; and it was of very great importance because up to this time there had been nothing that might be called the authorized doctrine of the Church at large. During the three centuries since Christ, as we have seen, there had been in the Church a wide difference of belief about him. There had been a growing tendency, it is true, to give him an ever higher rank, and a teaching opposed to this tendency might here or there be condemned by some local council; but no standard of belief for the whole Church had as yet been adopted. ‘This was first done at the Council of Nicwa in 325. How this council came about, and what result it had on the doctrines of the Christian Church, we shall see in the next chapter. CHAPTER IV THE COUNCIL OF NICHA AND THE DEVELOP- MENT OF THE DOCTRINE OF THE TRINITY, TO 381 A. D. When Constantine, who had lately abandoned paganism for Christianity, became in 323 head of the whole Roman Empire, as its first Christian Emperor, he found that the Christians, on whom he relied for support against his pagan enemies, were divided against themselves throughout the whole East. In his newly founded capital of Constantino- ple their quarrels were the butt of jokes in the very theaters. He at once perceived that if he were to maintain his power it was of supreme importance that the factions in the Church should be brought into harmony with one another. His first attempts to this end failed, as we saw at the end of the previous chapter. He therefore determined to call together the bishops from all parts of the Empire, that they might agree as to what should be received as the true Chris- tian belief. This gathering was the first General (or Ecu- menical) Council, and it met in 325 at Nicea, a small city in northwestern Asia Minor, some forty-five miles southeast of Constantinople. Bishops were summoned by imperial command from every part of the Empire, and they were to travel if need be at the Emperor’s expense, accompanied by two presbyters and three servants each, and to be his guests. They came with all speed from the remotest parts, until there were over 19 20 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE three hundred bishops present, and a total company of some two thousand. The Emperor himself opened the Council with great pomp, and presided in person over its sessions, which lasted through six weeks. Yet though they were to discuss important matters of Christian belief, there was lit- tle calm reasoning over the points at issue, and a Christian spirit of patient forbearance was conspicuously absent. Feeling ran so high that the most abusive language was often used in debate, and sometimes, it is said, even physical violence was used by the members against one another. The chief purpose of the Council was to settle the bitter controversy as to the true doctrine about Christ, and on this subject there were three distinct views held. A small minority were strict followers of Arius, holding that Christ was in his essential being or nature (“substance”) different from God. This party was led in the discussions by Arius himself, who though not a bishop had been especially com- manded by the Emperor to appear at the Council. A sec- ond party, forming a larger minority, was composed of the opponents of Arius; and these held that Christ was of the same essential being with God. The recognized leader of these was not their aged Bishop Alexander, but a young deacon in his train, barely twenty-five, very small of stature, far from handsome in appearance, but of keen intellect and fiery temper, violent in argument, passionately devoted to his convictions, and hence narrow and intolerant in spirit.? This was Athanasius, whose very name was to become a syn- onym for unyielding orthodoxy. But the great majority were of a third party, occupying an intermediate position, 1 He called the Arians by such names as “devils, antichrists, maniacs, Jews, polytheists, atheists, dogs, wolves, lions, hares, chameleons, hydras, eels, cuttlefish, gnats, beetles, and leeches,” and no doubt the Arians repaid him measure for measure. THE COUNCIL OF NICHA 21 and holding that Christ was of an essential being similar to God. The leader of this middle party, who came to be known as Semi-Arians, was Eusebius of Caesarea, who stood high in influence with the Emperor, and was understood to represent his views. After some discussion, the Arians, confident of victory, proposed a creed for adoption; but this was at once torn in pieces by an angry mob of their opponents, and from that time on the strictly Arian view received little attention. Eusebius then brought forth a creed representing the views of the middle party, approved by the Emperor, and carefully avoiding terms offensive to either the Arians or their oppo- nents. The Arians were willing to accept it, but this very fact made the Athanasians suspicious, and they absolutely refused to make any concession or compromise. The main point was now discussed between the Semi-Arians and the Athanasians, as to whether Christ’s nature was similar to God’s, or the same as God’s; and as it narrowed down prac- tically to a controversy over the two corresponding Greek words, homoi- and homo-, it has been cynically said that the whole Christian Church for half a century, beginning with this Council, fought and was distracted over the smallest let- ter in the alphabet. The Emperor, seeing how unyielding the Athanasian party was, realized that no settlement could be reached on middle ground; so apparently thinking peace and harmony in his Empire of greater importance than this doctrine or that, he threw his weight at length on the side of the Atha- nasians. The latter then presented a creed distinctly op- posed to Arian views; the majority soon yielded, though not without some reluctance, to what was pressed as the Em- peror’s wish; and nearly all of them signed the creed. The Arians at first stood out, but at last all gave in save two; 22 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE and these were sent with Arius into exile. Arius’s books were condemned to be burnt, possession of them was made a capital crime, and his followers were declared to be en- emies of Christianity. This was the first instance in Chris- tian history of subscription being required to a creed, and the first of many tragic instances of the civil government punishing heretics for not accepting the belief of the majority.’ The creed thus adopted is known as the Nicene Creed, the most important of the three great creeds * of early Chris- tianity, and the only one ever recognized by the whole Chris- tian Church. It did not establish the doctrine of the Trin- ity, but it took a long step in that direction by permanently settling the disputed question about the deity of Christ, and declaring that he was of the same “substance” with God. This was henceforth the orthodox doctrine, fortified not only by the vote of the Council as the voice of the whole Church, but also by imperial authority as virtually the law of the Empire. It remains the orthodox doctrine through- out all Christendom to this day; but it is instructive to note how it became so—by a majority vote of persons who really preferred another view, but under strong pressure from the Emperor sanctioned this one for the sake of peace and har- mony, and to escape the heavy hand of his displeasure.* The Creed might of course be true for all that; but had the real convictions of the majority been expressed, the ortho- dox belief might have been not what it now is, but Arianism, and the one sent into exile, whose books were ordered burnt, 1 Hitherto heresy had been punished only by excommunication from the Church, but had not been made the concern of the State. Later on it was punished by death, as we shall see all too often. 2See Appendix, page 471. 3The alternative was to be deposed from office, and banished, as Arius was. THE COUNCIL OF NICAA 23 and whose followers were declared enemies of Christianity, might have been not Arius, but Athanasius. The Council dispersed, and the bishops went their ways; but the great question they had met to decide was settled only in outward appearance. Despite their having signed the Creed to please the Emperor, many of them were “of the same opinion still.” Apparently defeated at Nicwea, Arian- ism, or something like it, was still popular in most of the churches of the East, and was actively promoted by many persons of influence. The Emperor himself began to feel the force of this influence, and to waver. Persuaded by his Arian sister and Eusebius, he recalled Arius from exile in 335 and had him acquitted of heresy ; and Arius was on the point of being solemnly reinstated in the Church at Con- stantinople in the following year, when he suddenly died. Meantime Athanasius who, young as he was, had been chosen Bishop of Alexandria at Alexander’s death in 328, had been carrying things with such a high hand as to rouse the bitterest opposition; so that he himself was banished in 336 as a disturber of the peace of the Church, and out of the forty-six stormy years of his office he spent twenty in exile, being successively banished and recalled no fewer than five times. For the whole question of doctrine was now opened again for discussion. One local council after an- other met in different parts of the Empire; creed after creed was put forth by one party or the other. After the death of Constantine in 337, political considerations came into the question, and the theology of the churches but reflected the opinions of the Emperor or the court. During most of the time for forty years Arian emperors were on the throne in the East, and Arians persecuted as intolerantly as ever their opponents had done. The West remained steadily or- thodox; but in the East a modified form of Arianism became 24 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE all but universal under Constantius, Emperor from 337 to 361, and at length he compelled councils in the West vir- tually to accept that, just as Constantine had forced the Athanasian view upon the Council of Nicewa. Even two of the Popes of Rome were forced for a time to give it a nom- | inal adherence (though with little effect upon the Western Church) ; and though the Nicene Creed was never abolished by a General Council, Arianism was for some time the offi- cially supported religion of the whole Empire. It was this very completeness of its victory that brought Arianism to its downfall, for the Arians fell to quarreling among themselves. Under the fanatical Arian Emperor Valens (3864-8378) the intolerance of the extreme Arians drove the Semi-Arians to side with the orthodox; and when the Emperor Theodosius came to the throne, having been brought up in the orthodox faith, he determmed to put an end to these controversies. Upon his baptism in 380 he is- sued an edict that all nations in the Empire should adhere to the Catholic (that is, the orthodox) religion, believing in the Trinity as an equal deity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. All others he branded as heretics, and threatened them with severe punishment. He expelled the Arians from Constantinople, deprived them of their churches, and for- bade them to hold public worship. The following year, to give his action the sanction of church law, Theodosius called the second General Council, at Constantinople.t At this Council a new creed. was brought forth which completed the statement of the doc- 1'This was not in fact a General Council, but only an Eastern one, and it did not in fact adopt the Creed referred to. But by about 530 both the Eastern and the Western Church had come to consider this a General Council, and to regard this Creed as its production, to be used henceforth (under the name of the Nicene Creed) in place of that adopted at Nicea. THE COUNCIL OF NICZA 25 trine of the Trinity, by adding an article about the Holy Spirit. This subject had been barely mentioned in the Nicene Creed, but it had now for some time been much dis- cussed, and had come to assume cardinal importance. In the new form of the Creed, therefore, the deity of the Holy Spirit was adopted (not without considerable opposition) as a part of the orthodox doctrine of one God in three per- sons; and thus the doctrine of the Trinity came to be re- ceived as the central doctrine of orthodox Christian belief. It was given further definition in the remarkable document known as the Athanasian Creed.* Thus Arianism was finally outlawed in the Roman Em- pire. Its downfall was rapid. It was suppressed in the West in 388, and thenceforth survived only among the bar- barian nations. For the Goths, the Vandals, the Lombards, and the Burgundians had originally been converted to Arian Christianity, and it did not become extinct among them un- til late in the sixth century. Individuals here and there may still have held Arian views, but as an organized move- ment it was no more. Unitarians in modern times have | often been called Arians, and have sometimes held Arian — views; but they have had no historical connection with the | Arians of the fourth century. Unitarians, too, have often felt a sentimental sympathy with these earlier heretics, if only because they were opposed to the orthodox doctrine of the Trinity. Yet if we were compelled to choose between the two to-day, the doctrine of Athanasius should be less ob- jectionable than that of Arius. The latter left too wide a gulf between God and man, and its Christ, being neither God nor man, did nothing to bring the two together. The needs of religion were better served by the view of Athana- sius, and it was well for Christianity that that prevailed. 1See Appendix, page 473. 26 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE But whether either doctrine is adapted to our day, when we do not begin as men then did by taking it for granted that an immense chasm separates the Father in heaven from his children on earth—that is another question, though the dis- cussion of it does not properly belong in a history. The whole controversy was really one between speculative theologians. ‘The great mass of the people can have had no real understanding of it. They might prefer the doc- trine of Athanasius because it seemed to give more honor to Christ than did that of Arius, but the subtle distinctions of the creeds they did not comprehend. The unfortunate result was, and long remained, that Christian doctrines came more and more to be regarded by the people at large as mysteries, not to be understood, nor even inquired into, but simply to be taken on faith, and on the authority of the Church. Men were not supposed to reason about religion. It was this condition of things that in the sixteenth century, - when men’s minds were becoming emancipated, led to the rise of Unitarianism with its insistent demand for freedom of thought and the use of reason, in religion. There were, however, yet other questions to be settled before the system of orthodox beliefs should be quite complete; and in order to understand the story that is to follow, we shall have in an- other chapter to glance also at those. CHAPTER V THE COMPLETION OF THE ORTHODOX THEOLOGY, TO 451 A. D. The last chapter showed how the Arian controversy led to two main results. It established the doctrine of the deity of Christ at the Council of Nicea, and that of the Trinity at Constantinople. It had lasted for over sixty years, and it might well have been hoped that the Church would now have peace. But not so. The accepted Creed left open more questions than it had settled; so that almost immediately a new controversy broke out, which lasted for seventy years more, and not only was thus longer, but also was far more violent, than the previous one. Discussion which in the former period had begun with Christ and ended with God now swung back to Christ again. The new ques- tion was as to the relation of the divine and the human na- tures in him. No authority had yet settled this question, and no one had thought out the answer to it. But every one who wished might guess at it, and it offered an endless field for speculation until some statement should be found which could be generally agreed to. There is no telling how long it might have lasted, had there not been such insti- tutions as General Councils, to decide what opinions must be held as Christian truth, and that whoever holds otherwise is no Christian, but must be put out of the Church, and be punished by the State as his case deserves. The question disputed about was this: It had always 27 28 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE been taken for granted that Christ had lived upon earth as a human being, and hence had a human nature; and now the Nicene Creed made it necessary also to believe that he was a divine being, and hence had a divine nature. But how could both these apparently contradictory statements be true of one person? Hence the discussion went from one extreme to its opposite, for no middle view seemed pos- sible. It will be enough for our purpose if we follow simply the brief outlines of the long story. First came Apollinaris, Bishop of Laodicea in Syria, who was teaching about the time of the Council of Constantinople that Christ’s two na- tures were so much alike as not to be distinguishable: his divine nature was so human, and his human nature was so divine, that there was scarcely any difference between them. But the result of this view was that he did not seem to have been really a human being at all. Apollinaris himself at length withdrew from the Church, and so escaped trial and punishment for heresy, but his doctrine was condemned by various councils. Some of his followers, continuing his doctrine, drew the conclusion that since Christ was so wholly divine, Mary might be called the Mother of God, and this view was widely accepted. Others thought this to be absurd blasphemy; and in opposition to it Nestorius, who was Metropolitan (chief bishop) of Constantinople from 428, taught that the two natures in Christ were perfectly distinct, so that Mary was mother only of the human nature in Christ. The peo- ple fancied he was thus denying the Christ they worshiped, and insulted him on the street ; while Cyril, Patriarch (chief bishop) of Alexandria, going to the opposite extreme, taught that in Christ the two natures were completely ORTHODOX THEOLOGY TO 451 A. D. 29 united; and, wishing for personal reasons to humiliate Nes- torius, he used his influence to get the third General Council called, at Ephesus, 431. The bishops on both sides came to it armed as if for battle, and accompanied by a mob of followers; the meetings were turbulent and feeling ran high; but the purpose of the Council was realized, and Christ was declared a little later to be perfect God and perfect man, having two natures united with each other. The teaching of Nestorius was condemned, and he himself was sent into exile, where a few years later he died miserably in some re- mote part of Egypt. His doctrine nevertheless spread widely in the far East, and a sect of Nestorians still exists among Christians of Armenia and India. Next came Eutyches, an aged archimandrite (chief ab- bot) of Constantinople, who, starting with this new ortho- dox doctrine that in Christ there was a union of two na- tures, carried it out further by teaching that in this union the human nature was wholly absorbed into the divine; so that he had no human body, but only a divine one; whence it must follow that it was God himself that was born in Bethlehem, suffered, and died on the cross. This extraor- dinary doctrine, and its teacher, were at once attacked with great violence at Constantinople ; and Eutyches was deposed and his doctrine condemned at a local council. But he had powerful friends at court, so that the next year a fourth General Council was called in his behalf at Ephesus, 449; where, under the threats and coercion of the Emperor, his doctrine was actually approved as orthodox, and even Pope Leo of Rome, who had opposed him, was excommunicated for doing so. What manner of Council this was, however, and how much its opinion on a point of Christian doctrine was worth, may be judged from the fact that in the process 30 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE of the discussion one of the bishops is said to have been beaten and kicked so that he died, and that it has ever since been known as “the Robber Council.” A reaction now came. A new Emperor soon afterwards came to the throne, and in his first year he called a fifth General Council, at Chalcedon, across the Bosporus from Constantinople, 451. This was the last of the great Coun- cils to settle the main lines of doctrine in the early Church, and it was the most important of all save Nicwa. It was attended by five or six hundred bishops, and as usual in these Councils it was full of tumult and disorder ; but, forced again by threats from the Emperor, it took three important actions. It annulled the actions of the Robber Council; it re-affirmed the Nicene Creed as revised at the Council of Constantinople; and it settled permanently the long-stand- ing controversy as to the two natures in Christ. The way in which it contrived to do this is highly interesting. Some had been saying, as we have seen, that Christ had two sep- arate natures, and others had been saying that he had but one nature. Now the Council of Chalcedon got rid of this contradiction by simply saying these two opposite things in one breath, only, in the second case it substituted for the word nature the word person.’ It declared that Christ had two distinct natures, and that these were both united in one person, thus making him a God-Man, both divine and hu- man. ‘The Emperor then embodied this doctrine in a law, and ordered all Eutychians banished from the Empire; and the Emperor Justinian a century later ratified and included in his Code of Roman Law the decrees of the four General Councils. This doctrine about the person of Christ, sup- 1It could do this the more easily, since the two words in Greek originally meant practically the same thing, and had been used inter- changeably. ORTHODOX THEOLOGY TO 451 A. D. 31 plementing that of the Trinity, was also included in the Athanasian Creed,’ and has been generally accepted by or- thodox Protestantism. Even now the question would not down. There were still those who insisted that Christ had but one nature, and were consequently named Monophysites. Their contentions dis- tracted the Eastern Church for over a century more, and they exist even to-day as a separate sect in Syria, Armenia, and Egypt; as do also the Monothelites, so called because they insisted, a century later, that though Christ had two natures he had but one will. But these heresies were both duly condemned, and the echoes of the controversy at last died away. Thus the orthodox theology as to God and Christ was completed. See now, in review, by what gradual steps its ~ doctrines grew up. 1. The first three Gospels make Jesus the Messiah, but a man. 2. Paul makes Jesus a man, but one raised up by God to a unique position in the universe. 3. The Gospel of John makes Christ the Logos, subordi- nate to God, yet somehow sharing his divinity. 4, The Fathers of the second and third centuries waver between the simple humanity and the complete divinity of Christ. 5. The Council of Nica makes Christ of the same essen- tial nature with God. 6. The Council of Constantinople unites Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in one Trinity. 7. The Council of Ephesus makes Christ’s two natures not distinct but united. 1The second part, beginning with Article 29. See Appendix, page 473. 32 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE 8. The Council of Chalcedon makes these two natures united in one person. The orthodox doctrine, then, against which Unitarianism was to protest, was, in brief, this: that the one God exists in three persons, and that one of these persons has two natures. The whole controversy which we have been following, and which convulsed the growing Christian Church religiously, and the declining Roman Empire politically, for over a hun- dred and thirty years, may seem to us now to have been a controversy not about living realities, but about mere words; and the solutions reached at Nicea and Chalcedon may seem to us to have been mere verbal solutions, which leave the question after all pretty much where it was at the start. We must not forget, however, that to many Chris- tians of the third and fourth centuries these seemed su- premely vital matters, involving the very essence, and even the permanent existence, of their Christian faith; for all this struggle had also its deep religious side, and expressed an earnest and sincere purpose in many hearts. The character and methods of the Councils that estab- lished these doctrines are not, it is true, calculated to give us great reverence for their Christian character, nor much respect for their opinions; while the repeated interference of the civil power to enforce decisions of doctrine in its own interest was as vicious as it well could be. Yet the changes of thought that we have noted do not quite deserve to be called, as they often have been, “corruptions of Christian- ity.” No one tried, or wished, to “corrupt”? the Christian faith. It was, indeed, a vast change from the simple re- hgion of the sermon on the mount and the parables of Jesus to the theology of the Nicene and Athanasian Creeds ; ORTHODOX THEOLOGY TO 451 A. D. 33 and the whole emphasis shifted from a religion of the heart and life to abstract speculations of the head. Yet when we have made all deductions for the political intrigues and the mean jealousies and the unscrupulous ambitions that so often accompanied them, we find at the bottom of these con- troversies an earnest and honest desire in the best minds to state the theory of the new Christian religion in terms which the cultured old world of Greek thought could accept. For at the beginning of the fourth century the Christian Church was in grave danger of falling to pieces unless it could es- tablish a place for itself in Greek civilization, which still did the world’s thinking; and the movement we have been follow- ing probably saved Christianity for the Greek and Roman world. The development of the doctrines of the Trinity and the Deity of Christ must therefore have a profound interest for every one that follows the history of the Christian Church in the days of its struggling young life. Small wonder that after this life-and-death struggle over them these doctrines should have been guarded as the very soul of Christian faith, so that whoever doubted or denied them seemed to be strik- ing at the heart not merely of Christian orthodoxy, but even of all religion, and to be little if any better than an atheist. This feeling became deeply rooted in the minds of Christians the world over; and it was intensified by laws which made heresy a terrible crime. It will help us to understand why | in later times those who, after comparing the Creeds with their New Testaments, came to prefer the simple belief in the unity of God and the humanity of Christ to the mys- teries of the Trinity and the God-Man, were looked on as deadly enemies of Christianity, and as deserving of the most extreme punishment. It will give a clue to the current of 34 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE persecution which flows through almost the whole history of Unitarianism, and makes it tragic with the sufferings of confessors and the blood of martyrs. Before closing this chapter we should briefly mention three other doctrines that presently took form, which Uni- tarianism also came to oppose. First, the doctrine worked out by Augustine, and later adopted by Calvin, that man even from infancy has a nature totally depraved by sin. Second, the doctrine, also from Augustine and emphasized by Calvin, that God from the beginning chose (by “elec- tion,” or “‘predestination’”’) certain souls to be saved, and others to be lost. Third, the doctrine that Jesus, by a “vicarious atonement,” saved men by suffering in their stead, as their substitute. It was against the two great central doctrines of orthodox theology, together with these three minor ones, that the pioneers of Unitarianism raised their protest, as inconsistent with Scripture, and offensive to reason or the moral sense. The Unitarian movement, as we saw in the first chapter, does not really begin till the time of the Protestant Refor- mation; but it continually harks back to the simple faith of primitive Christianity, and continually protests against the central doctrines of the orthodox Creeds. We should only half understand the reason and meaning of these pro- tests if we had not seen why and how these Creeds came into being, what they are, and what they mean. Now that we have done that, we are prepared to start where the first Unitarian reformers started, and to follow the whole story of the movement they began, with a clear understanding of their task, and of their aims in pursuing it. DIVISION II SCATTERED PIONEERS OF UNITA- RIANISM IN EUROPE ' i ny: 4 ‘ ee a t fee ag ‘ ; «sack al F \; z , hb a ey oy - ’ nc = og j i x ae et wi were - “y= Fe 4 a Ve: 7 7 th « 4 +5 : + ¥ . ¥ i a « . ts r : » ; ’ - 4% ‘ S ¥ ; We ty ie i Tf ihe ie ‘ : ’ —_ ib i 4 | E : « 5 t im ; j 4) | . } ’ iat tas ' ‘ t 2 ‘i Mord ‘ ss » ; A < a, CHAPTER VI THE PROTESTANT REFORMATION AND THE BEGINNINGS OF MODERN UNITARIANISM, 1517-1530 In the previous chapters we have seen how the system of orthodox theology gradually grew up, and how by the de- crees of church Councils and of Emperors its beliefs were so fastened upon Christians that denial of them was declared a heresy, and was punished as a crime. If at rare intervals heretics were rash enough to raise their voices and call in question an old doctrine, or proclaim a new one, they were soon put to silence. By this means Christian thought was kept nearly stagnant for over a thousand years. Early in the sixteenth century, however, various in- fluences were conspiring to bring about great changes in men’s religious views. In the first place, Constantinople, capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, had fallen into the hands of the Turks in 1453, and the Christian scholars living there had scattered over western Europe, bringing with them, especially to Italy, manuscripts of classical authors long forgotten during the Dark Ages in the West. A whole new library of the world’s greatest literature was thus sud- denly thrown open to educated men. Hence arose the movement variously called the Revival of Learning, or the Renaissance, or Humanism, which sprang up and brought forth in Europe the beginnings of modern literature, mod- ern art, modern science, and modern tendencies in govern- 37 38 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE ment. In the second place, the invention of printing about the middle of the fifteenth century made it possible for new ideas to spread as they had never spread before, and above all for men everywhere for the first time to read the Bible for themselves. Finally, the discovery of a New World in 1492, and of a new route to the Indies soon after, expanded the world’s horizon to a degree hitherto undreamed of, and never to be possible again. The result of such influences as these was that men were no longer so well content as be- fore to live in a limited world, and to think only the thoughts that had been handed down to them from past ages. Instead, they began to think for themselves, and to venture out into fields of thought hitherto forbidden to them. : In the religious world these new influences caused perhaps even a greater ferment of thought than elsewhere; and this at length came to a head in 1517 when the Catholic monk, Martin Luther, posted his ninety-five theses on the church door at Wittenberg, and thus began the Protestant Refor- mation. For it must be remembered that up to this time the existing Church everywhere in western Europe was the Roman Catholic Church, and that the doctrines everywhere taught were Catholic doctrines. Nevertheless, when the Reformation began, it was the farthest from the thoughts of Luther and those that sympathized with him to form a new Protestant Church, separate from the Catholic Church, and even hostile to it. They desired simply to bring about a reform of certain flagrant abuses and corrupt practices, so that the Church might be purer in the character of its clergy, and might better meet the religious needs of the peo- ple at large. Least of all had they any intention of trying to reform the doctrines of Christianity as those were defined in the great Creeds. Melanchthon, who soon became the BEGINNINGS OF MODERN UNITARIANISM — 39 great theologian of the Reformation in Germany, spoke for Protestants in general when he said, “We do not differ from the Roman Church on any point of doctrine.” When, however, Protestants had once thrown off the au- thority of the Catholic Church in other matters, there was every likelihood that they would soon begin to examine into the truth of the doctrines they had received from it; and that all the more, since they were coming gradually to re- gard the Bible, instead of the Church, as the supreme au- thority in all matters of religion. In fact, as soon as they began to compare the doctrines of the Creeds with the teachings of the Bible, most of the leading reformers at first showed signs of a wavering belief in the Catholic doc- trines of the Trinity and the Deity of Christ. The founda- tions for such distrust had been laid even before the Refor- mation by Erasmus of Rotterdam, the most famous biblical scholar of his age, a man who, though he gave strong impulse to the Reformation, yet himself never left the Catholic Church. In his edition of the Greek New Testament, pub- lished in 1516, he omitted as an interpolation the text which had long been appealed to as the strongest scriptural proof of the doctrine of the Trinity,’ and by this and his notes | on the New Testament went far to undermine belief in that doctrine for those who took the Bible for their sole author- ity. For this he was long appealed to by Antitrinitarians, reproached by orthodox Protestants, and considered an Arian ” or an Antitrinitarian by Catholics. Luther himself heartily disliked the word Trinity and other terms used in the Creeds in speaking of that doctrine, because they were not found in the Scriptures, but were only | 11 John 5:7. Compare the Revised Version with the Authorized, noting the omission. 2 See page 17, 40 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE human inventions. He accordingly left them out of his Catechisms, and omitted the invocation of the Trinity from his litany, and declared that he much preferred to say God rather than Trinity, which had a frigid sound. Cath- glic writers therefore did not hesitate to call him an Arian. \ Melanchthon, too, in the first work which he published on the doctrines of the reformers, instead of treating the doc- trine of the Trinity as the very center of the Christian faith, passed it by with scarcely a comment, as a mystery which it was not necessary for a Christian to understand ; and he also was charged with Arianism. Even Calvin, who later on, as leader of the Reformation in Geneva, was to cause Servetus to be burned at the stake for denying the doctrine of the Trinity, declared earlier in his career that the Nicene Creed was better suited to be sung as a song than to be used as an expression of faith; while he also expressed disapproval of the Athanasian Creed and dislike of the commonly used prayer to the Holy Trin- ity, and in his Catechism touched upon the doctrine very lightly. He had in his turn to defend himself against the charge of Arianism and Sabellianism.t) Much the same might be said with regard to the views of other leaders of the Reformation: Zwingli at Ziirich, Farel at Geneva, and (Ecolampadius at Basel. Now all this does not in the least mean that the chief leaders of Protestantism were at first more than half Uni- tarian in belief, or that they deserved the charge of heresy which their opponents flung at them, and which they with one accord denied; but it does mean that they were at least doubtful whether these doctrines of the Catholic faith could be found in the Bible, and whether they should be accepted as an essential part of Protestant belief. It is therefore 1 See page 15. BEGINNINGS OF MODERN UNITARIANISM § 41 quite possible that if nothing had occurred to disturb the quiet development of their thought, these doctrines might within a generation or two have come to be quietly ignored as not important to Christian faith, and might at length have been discarded outright as mere inventions of men. Instead of this happening, however, it came to pass that when the reformers of Germany and Switzerland came at length to decide what statements of the Protestant belief they should adopt in their new Confessions, they kept as many as possible of the old Catholic doctrines, and espe- cially emphasized their adherence to the Nicene and Atha- nasian Creeds. Now, why and how did this result come about, leaving to Protestantism a system of belief of which one part was based upon the authority of Scripture, while the other was simply taken over from the tradition of the Catholic Church? There were two principal reasons. In the first, place, those who first proclaimed beliefs which led in the di- rection of Unitarianism were leaders in the sect of the Ana- baptists, and these beliefs were thus unfortunately associ- ated, as we shall see in the next chapter, with certain ex- travagant and fanatical tendencies in that sect, which seemed to threaten the overthrow of all social and religious order. The fate of the Reformation still hung in the bal- ance; and the reformers could not afford to take any risks by tolerating a movement which, on account of its radical social tendencies, would be certain to alienate the sympathy of the princes who had thus far supported it; for if these were now to abandon it, it must inevitably fail. Hence the reformers had to remain on conservative ground, and they therefore opposed the Anabaptists and tried to silence their leaders. In the second place, Servetus, the first writer to attract ee 42 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE much attention in Europe by his writings against the Cath- olic doctrine of the Trinity, instead of gently and subtly un- dermining it, brought fresh and severe criticism upon Prot- estantism by the sharpness of his attacks upon what had for a millennium been considered the most sacred dogma of the Christian religion, and he so shocked and angered the re- formers themselves that they recoiled from him in horror. But for this reason also, they might perhaps have gradually gone on from their early misgivings about the doctrine un- til they had left it far behind. As it was, being forced to choose at once between seeming to approve of Servetus and his positions, and remaining on the perfectly safe ground of the old doctrines, they naturally enough did the latter, and with one consent disowned Servetus and denounced his teaching. How this result came about in this twofold way, we shall see in the next following chapters. CHAPTER VII ANTITRINITARIANISM AMONG THE EARLY ANABAPTISTS, 1517-1530 We have now to trace through several chapters the story of how, during the half-century after the beginning of the Reformation, Christians who could not accept the orthodox doctrines about the Trinity and the person of Christ tried in various parts of western Europe to proclaim views more or less Unitarian, only sooner or later to be met in each case by excommunication from the Church, banishment from home, imprisonment, or even death itself, until at length countries were found whose laws allowed them freedom of conscience, and thus made it possible for them to worship God after their own manner and to organize churches of their own. The first of those to adopt and teach these views were found in what is known as the Anabaptist movement. This movement was one which, though it had some able and edu- cated leaders, found its chief following among the humbler classes of society. It was in fact a loose fusion of two quite different elements: a popular religious movement of devout and earnest souls whose spiritual ancestry went back of the Reformation to circles of pious mystics and humble Chris- tians in the bosom of the Catholic Church in the Middle Ages, out of which had come such devout classics as the Imitation of Christ; and along with this, a popular social movement among the peasantry, whose sense of the wrongs 43 4A OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE and oppressions they had long suffered had been stirred up anew by the Reformation, and who looked for a reformed religion to bring them a reformed social order. Both re- ligiously and socially they were the radicals of the Protes- tant Reformation. The Anabaptist movement took its rise in 1525 at Ziirich, as the radical wing of the Swiss Reformation which had be- gun there under the leadership of Zwingli; but it soon got beyond control, and it ran into such extravagances that some of its leaders were put to death, and others with their followers were banished. Yet the movement seemed some- how to answer a strong religious and social demand, and in spite of persecutions, and of an edict of the Diet of Speyer in 1529 that every Anabaptist should be put to death, it soon spread like wild-fire over large parts of Western Eu- rope; and in our story we shall meet it in Western Germany, Holland, Italy, Switzerland, Moravia, Poland, Transyl- vania, and England. These Anabaptists embraced a wide variety of teachings, differing according to their leader or the locality; but the one thing which was common to them all, and which seemed most sharply to distinguish them from other Protestants, was their objection to infant baptism, and their insistence that upon reaching adult Christian life persons who had been baptized in infancy should be baptized again. Hence the name given them by their op- ponents, Ana-baptists (i.e., re-baptizers); although this name was ere long applied, in more or less reproach, to re- ligious radicals of the period, in general, without much re- gard to their particular beliefs as to baptism. Their interest in the question of baptism, however, was only incidental. Their first concern was in the establish- ment of a pure Church, reformed from the ground up by its strict adherence in every particular to the teachings of THE EARLY ANABAPTISTS 45 Scripture, which they accepted literally and tried faithfully to follow. ‘Thus they believed that followers of Christ should not resist evil, nor bear arms, nor own private property, nor hold civil office, nor resort to law courts, nor take oaths; and their movement was largely a lay movement. In these respects they might be called the Quakers of their time; and indeed the Quakers of England were not a little influenced by their teaching and example. They also be- lieved in separation of Church and State, and stood firmly for freedom of conscience and against religious persecution. In their view of religious knowledge they were mystics, hold- ing that God makes his truth and will known to the souls of men directly, and they relied much upon the guidance of the Spirit ; but though they were in the main people of most exemplary lives, they would sometimes ascribe to the influ- ence of the divine Spirit impulses which seemed to others to have a very human origin, and thus in the name of reli- gion some of them ran into gross immorality. Instead, however, of having the backing of the civil power, as the Lutherans did, the Anabaptists were generally op- posed by it; unfortunately they had no leader like Luther powerful enough to guide their movement and hold it in control; and they were far too loosely organized to be able to control their own members. The result was that a move- ment which had in it much that was good was at length wrecked by the excesses of its wilder adherents. At Miin- ster, where it was especially strong, it took a revolutionary form; and such civil disorder ensued and such fanaticism ruled that the whole movement had in 1535 to be suppressed with terrible bloodshed. Now disturbances such as these tended to bring the whole Protestant movement into ill re- pute, and the leaders of the Reformation reacted in alarm and disgust. The Anabaptists were therefore more bitterly 46 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE hated and more harshly persecuted than were the members of any other religious movement during the sixteenth cen- tury; and it is said that by 1546 no fewer than 30,000 of them had been put to death in Holland and Friesland. The remnants of them that survived persecution were at length gathered into a more compact body with sober leadership; and of these sprang the Mennonites of Holland, and the Baptists of England and America. Our reason for being interested in the Anabaptists in this history is that, though the majority of them remained or- thodox on the main doctrines of the Creeds, some of their most distinguished leaders became decidedly liberal, and in- stead of stopping where Luther stopped, went on to reject doctrines, like that of the Trinity, which were not taught in the Scriptures. Since these were the earliest pioneers of Unitarianism in Europe, it will be worth while to glance at the career of a few of them and see what they believed, and what became of them and their doctrine. Martin Cellarius (or Borrhéius) deserves to be remem- bered because he is said to have been the first Protestant openly to proclaim antitrinitarian beliefs. He was born at Stuttgart in 1499, was liberally educated, and became a friend of Melanchthon. While leading the life of a teacher in Germany he early in life became an Anabaptist, and for this he suffered imprisonment in Prussia. He published in 1527 a book, On the Works of God, in which he taught that Jesus was God only in the sense in which we may all be gods—by being filled with God’s spirit. For spreading this and other heretical views, he was obliged in 1536, after his release from prison, to flee to Switzerland; but there he became professor at the University of Basel, and was permitted to live in peace until his death of the plague in 1564. THE EARLY ANABAPTISTS A] The most important of all the antitrinitarian Anabap- tists was Hans Denck, who has been called one of the pro- foundest thinkers of the sixteenth century. Born in Bavaria about 1495, he became famous as an accomplished He- brew and classical scholar, and was appointed rector of a celebrated school at Nuremberg; but for having become an Anabaptist he was after a year deprived of his office and ordered in 1524 to leave the city before nightfall. From a book which he published later it is clear that he was far from accepting the usual orthodox teaching as to the Trinity, for he gave the doctrine a mystical sort of explanation which altogether changed its established meaning; and he was also unorthodox as to the atonement, and the eternal punishment of the wicked. For some years after his ban- ishment he lived the life of a wandering preacher, persecuted for his faith and driven from city to city, till at last he found a brief refuge at Basel, where he was carried off by the plague in 1527. A third Anabaptist Antitrinitarian was Johannes Cam- panus, who was born near the border between Belgium and Germany. He was a scholar, and for a time he enjoyed the friendship of Luther and Melanchthon; but he became more or less influenced by Anabaptist tendencies, and fell under suspicion on account of his utterances as to the Trin- ity. After suffering imprisonment and other persecution for attempting to win converts to his views by preaching, he determined to spread them in a book, which he issued about 1531 “in opposition to the whole world since the Apostles,” of which the gentle Melanchthon said that its au- thor deserved to be hanged. In this and another work he strove to expose and correct the corruptions of Christian doctrine, and to restore the pure teaching of primitive Christianity. He taught that only two persons are divine, 48 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the Father and the Son, that the Son is inferior to the Father, and that the Spirit is not a person, but a divine power. For stirring up the peasants he was arrested about 1553, and is said to have been imprisoned at Kleve for some twenty-six years. Perhaps the most extraordinary career of all was that of David Joris, who was born in Flanders or Holland in 1501. He was brought up the son of a traveling mountebank, and was quite without education. Having become an Anabap- tist preacher he said he was a prophet, and showed an ex- traordinary power of attracting devoted personal followers. While much of a fanatic, he was withal a man of keen mind, and was the author of nearly three hundred works, of which the most important was entitled The Wonderbook. He taught that the doctrine of the Trinity tends only to ob- scure our knowledge of God, in whose being there is no dis- tinction of persons. For nearly ten years he traveled about Holland and adjoining parts of Germany and gath- ered many followers, though often obliged to go in disguise in order to avoid the persecutions that continued to follow him and them, in the course of which his mother was put to death, and he himself had numerous hair-breadth escapes. At length he resolved to go beyond the reach of his perse- cutors, and in some distant land to wait in peace for the second coming of Christ, which he fervently expected to live to witness. After traveling as far as Venice in search of a place, he returned to Switzerland and with a few trusted friends settled in 1544 at Basel, under the assumed name of Jan van Brugge. He was admitted to citizenship, joined the Reformed Church, purchased an estate, and lived in grand style out of the wealth which his followers had en- trusted to him, was bountiful to the poor, and was held in great respect for his irreproachable life until 1556 when he THE EARLY ANABAPTISTS ‘49 died, having all along kept up a secret correspondence with his Anabaptist followers in Holland. Then followed one of those droll humors which sometimes enliven the page of religious history. Three years later the real identity of Jan van Brugge was discovered. The pious citizens of Basel were scandalized beyond measure. Little could now be done to mend matters, but that little was done in the most thorough manner. In accordance with an old medieval custom a formal trial was instituted against the deceased. The theological faculty of the University inves- tigated the case of David Joris and pronounced him guilty of the most blasphemous heresies ; whereupon the authorities passed sentence of burning upon the heretic. His grave was opened, and his body was exhibited to the spectators, and was then, along with all his books and his portrait, pub- licly burnt by the common hangman, after which his family were required to do penance in the cathedral. Thus the serlous reproach of having entertained a heretic unawares was at length removed from the consciences of the worthy Basileans. It will be necessary to do little more than mention the names of three others who are classed among the Anabap- tists, and of whom indeed little 1s known save their fate. Jakob Kautz, a young preacher of Bockenheim, who denied the doctrine of eternal punishment and zealously defended at Worms the views of Denck, was imprisoned at Strassburg in 1528, and then banished. In 1580 at Basel, Conradin Bassen, who had denied the deity of Christ, was beheaded and his head was set up on a pole. For similar errors Michael Sattler, who had been leader of Anabaptist churches in Switzerland, after having his tongue cut out and pieces of flesh torn from his body, was burned at the stake at Rothenburg on the Neckar, in 1527. 50 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE It should not be inferred that these Anabaptist heretics are to be closely identified with Unitarianism, in the modern sense of that term. For while it is true that they were all more or less unsound as to the Trinity and their views of Christ, yet they were also all more or less full of vagaries with which Unitarians have had little sympathy. More- over, the two are radically different as to temper of mind. The Anabaptists were in their religious temperament mys- tics, relying implicitly upon, some inner light for religious guidance, and were therefore always in danger of running into fanaticism; whereas Unitarianism has throughout its history been marked by its faith in the calmer guidance of reason, and if sometimes cold, has at all events always re- mained sane. The important point to note about the Anabaptists in connection with this history is that these radicals of the early Reformation, springing from widely separated places in Protestant Europe, bear witness to a widespread dissat- isfaction with the Catholic doctrines about God and Christ, and illustrate many different attempts (for no two of them thought alike) to arrive at beliefs more in harmony with Scripture, and more acceptable to reason, than were the doctrines of the creeds. Having to bear, however, the double weight of heresy and fanaticism, they were fore- doomed to failure. Unitarian thought had to wait for saner teachers, more sober leaders, and freer laws, before it could become organized and hope to spread. If this tendency of thought was thus crushed in Switzerland, Ger- many, and Holland, the liberalizing influence of the Ana- baptist movement had meanwhile spread to other lands; and we shall later see how in Italy, Poland, England, and even in Holland itself, it was among Anabaptists that Unitarian thought first arose. THE EARLY ANABAPTISTS 51 Meantime what the development of a more liberal theol- ogy most needed was a spokesman, who was not handicapped from the start by association with a discredited movement, and who, instead of joining his attacks upon the doctrine of the Trinity with various other speculations, should win more pointed attention by concentrating his attacks upon that doctrine alone. Such a leader appeared in the person of Servetus, to whom we must next turn. CHAPTER VIII MICHAEL SERVETUS: EARLY LIFE, 1511-1532 In a previous chapter we saw that the leaders of the Protestant Reformation, noting the fact that the teaching © of the Catholic Creeds as to the Trinity and the two natures” in Christ was not to be found in Scripture, seemed at first half inclined, if not quite yet to deny those doctrines out-~ right, at all events to pass them by without emphasis, as doctrines not necessary to salvation. We next saw how some of the Anabaptist leaders who were so bold as to deny those doctrines, brought their own views on these matters into the greater disrepute through the extravagance of their movement in other directions. Now if the case had been dropped here, it might have been long before Antitrini- tarian views would have asserted themselves in Protestant- ism; but we have now to turn to a man who arose just when the Anabaptist heretics had been pretty well put to silence, and forced the question upon the attention of the Reformers more insistently and sharply than ever. This man was a Spanish. Catholic-named._Michael Servetus.1 He was in more than one respect one of the most remarkable men of the sixteenth century; while the tragic death which he suf- fered made him the first and most conspicuous martyr to the faith whose history we are following. 1This is the Latin form of his name, and the one esmmanly used. His full name in its correct Spanish form was (Miguel Serveto \alias Reves. Other forms often met with rest upon error or mistaken Con- jecture. 52 THE EARLY LIFE OF SERVETUS 53 Though our records of the life of Servetus are scanty and inconsistent, and the gaps in them have often been filled up by conjectures which have later proved to be mistaken, it seems _most likely that he was born in 1511 at Tudela, a small city in Navarre, and that in his infancy his parents removed to Villanueva in Aragon, where his father had re- ceived an appointment as royal Notary, an office of some distinction, and where the family lived in handsome style. His parents were devoted Catholics, and it is thought that he may at first have been designed for the priesthood. Lit- tle is known to a certainty about his early education, but he seems to have been a precocious youth, and early in his teens to have acquired a knowledge of Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, and to have become well versed in mathematics and — the scholastic philosophy. There was much going on in Spain at this period to make a serious-minded youth thoughtful about questions of re- ligion. Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic were on the throne, determined to secure political unity in their new nation by compelling religious uniformity; and a spirit of the most intolerant orthodoxy controlled the government. In 1492, for refusing to deny the faith of their fathers and profess Christianity, 800,000 Jews had been banished from the kingdom. In the same year the Moors had been over-_. thrown in Granada, and although for a few years they were “granted toleration, they were soon compelled. to. choose be- tween abandoning their Mohammedanism and bemg driven from Spain. In both cases it was the dogma of the Trinity . that proved the insurmountable obstacle for races which held as the first article of their faith the undivided unity of God. Within the generation including Servetus’s boy- hood, some 20,000 victims, Jewish or Mohammedan, were thus burned at the stake. Despite the resistance of the 54 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE liberty-loving Aragonians, the Inquisition was set up among them to root out heresy; and these things must all have made a deep impression upon the mind of the young Serve- tus, and may well have laid the foundation for the main pas- sion of his life. Whatever may have been intended for him before, when Servetus was seventeen his father determined that he should enter the law, and to that end sent him across the Pyrenees to the University of Toulouse, then the most celebrated in France. Here he made a most wonderful discovery. For the first time in his life he found a Bible to read.! ) He simply devoured it. It seemed to him as though it were a book fallen into his hands from heaven, containing the sum of all philosophy and all science, and it made upon him a profound impression which lasted as long as he lived. For hitherto he had been taught to believe that the dogma of the Trinity was the very center of the Chris- tian religion, and he knew that for refusing to accept it thousands in his own land had recently been put to death. Despite all this, the doctrine as taught in the schools had seemed to him but a dead thing, yielding no inspira- tion for his religious life, and used chiefly as a subject of hair-splitting debates between scholastic theologians. Now to his surprise and infinite relief he found in the Bible nothing of all this, but instead the most wonderful religious book in all the world, full of life, and revealing to him as a vivid reality the great, loving heart of Christ. The more he read it, the more he was inspired by it, and the more_ he became convinced that not only for Jews and Moham- medans but for all men the doctrine of the Trinity as then 1 Luther also at the age of eighteen saw_a Bible for the first time at the University of Erfurt, and left the study of the law for the service of the Church. THE EARLY LIFE OF SERVETUS 55 taught in the Church was the greatest stumbling-block. For the masses of the people could never comprehend it, and even the teachers themselves seemed not to understand it. His mind was made up. He would devote his life to ex- posing the errors in this doctrine, and to showing men what was the true teaching of the Bible about God and Christ. He was as yet but eighteen years old! The study of the law had by now lost any attraction it may ever have had for him, and after about a year at the University he left it for the service of the friar Juan de Quintana, soon to become confessor to the young Emperor, Charles V. He followed his master to court, and never saw his parents or his native land again. Thus it happened that as one of the Emperor’s suite Servetus was early in 1530 present at Bologna, where Charles, though he had long since been crowned Emperor in Germany, was now to receive from Pope Clement VII a religious coronation with both the iron crown of Lombardy and the crown of the Holy Roman Empire, amid scenes of the most riotous lux- ury and extravagance that the modern world had ever known. Here Servetus received a second profound impres- sion upon his religious experience, calculated by sharp con- trast to emphasize that made by his recent discovery of the Bible. For on the one hand he saw the Pope bowed down to by the earth’s mightiest as little less than a god, and this filled him with a revulsion from which he never recovered; ! while on the other hand, behind the scenes, he saw among 1 Over twenty years afterwards, in the last year of his life, his in- dignation and disgust still boil over as he writes, “With these very eyes I saw him borne with pomp on the shoulders of princes, and in the pub- lic streets adored by the whole people kneeling, to such a point that those that succeeded even in kissing his feet or his shoes deemed them- selves happy beyond the rest. Oh, beast of beasts the most wicked! Most shameless of harlots !” 56 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the highest dignitaries of the Church sickening evidences of wordliness, selfish ambition, cynical skepticism, and uncon- cealed immorality. Henceforth the official religion of the Church seemed to him but a hollow mockery, and the Pope became for him the very Antichrist predicted in the?) New Testament. From Bologna the Emperor proceeded to Germany to attend the famous Diet of Augsburg, where Protestantism was to receive political recognition under the Empire, and where Melanchthon was to offer for the Emperor’s approval the Augsburg Confession as a statement of the Protestant doctrines. Servetus followed in the Emperor’s suite. He had no doubt already seen some of the writings of Melanch- thon, and perhaps also of others of the reformers; and he must have been eager to see and hear men who, like him- self, had at heart the great cause of purifying the Church. Although with his position in the service of the man who had the Emperor’s closest confidence, and with his own tal- ents, he had the most enviable opportunity for worldly ad- vancement, the only thing that_now really interested him was to reform the Catholic doctrine of the Trinity. He evi- dently saw little chance of accomplishing anything in this direction in Catholic circles, and so he gave up all his worldly prospects, left Quintana’s service, and went to seek the leaders of Protestantism. For although the Augsburg Confession had just declared that Protestants accepted the Nicene and Athanasian Creeds, the Protestant Churches had not yet adopted a permanent creed of their own; and he felt that if he could only get the chance to lay his views before the leaders of Protestant thought, he could surely. get them to see the doctrine of the Trinity as he saw it. | Servetus accordingly went in the autumn of 1530 to Ba- sel, and sought repeated interviews with CEcolampadius, the THE EARLY LIFE OF SERVETUS 57 leader of the Reformation in that city. Though Servetus was but a youth of nineteen, a foreigner and a Catholic, and Ccolampadius was far more than twice his age, a distin- guished man busy with important affairs, yet he received Servetus for some time patiently, and though scandalized by the views he expressed tried to convince him of his errors. Before long he found Servetus so conceited, so obstinate in his opinions, and so much more bent on pressing his own views than upon humbly seeking to learn the truth, that | he lost patience ; and when pervetus complained because EBiee reply, “I have more reason for complaint than you. You thrust yourself upon me as if I had nothing to do but answer your questions.” Servetus therefore, after having failed to get an interview with Erasmus who was then living at Basel, next went to Strassburg to see what he might ac- complish with the reformers there. Now Strassburg was at that time the most liberal of the Protestant cities. Denck and other Anabaptists had been there but a few years before, and their influence was still felt. Bucer (Butzer) and Capito, the Strassburg reform- ers, received Servetus most kindly, and as they seemed at first to feel some sympathy for his views, he began to hope that here at last they would be adopted. But Zwingli, the founder and leader of the Swiss Reformation, who had al- ready been told of Servetus’s heretical opinions, had warned the other reformers against these dreadful blasphemies as he considered them, lest they spread and bring incalculable harm upon the Protestant cause. So that in the end Ser- vetus made no better progress here than at Basel. It may seem almost incredible that a youth of nineteen should have had the effrontery thus to approach the ac- knowledged leaders of Protestant thought, men more than 58 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE twice his age, and to assume to set them right as to the very first and most important article of their faith; but, as he later declared, he felt moved in this matter by a divine impulse, as though he had a fresh revelation from God to communicate. If he could but once get his views fairly be- fore men’s minds, they would be sure to be accepted; and then the whole world could easily be won to the Christian faith. Nothing daunted therefore, and without trying to travel further and attempt to win over Melanchthon or Luther, he now resolved upon another course. He would put his views into print where every one might see them. Even this was not so easily managed. At Basel, the pub- lishing center of northern Europe, the printer would not take the risk of publishing his manuscript; but after a little while one was found elsewhere who would print the book, though he dared not put his name and place on the title-page. Servetus, however, had no such misgivings, but was so con- fident in his cause that he boldly printed his own name as author. Thus was issued in the summer of 1531, at Hagenau in Alsace, a little book which was destined to start a profound revolution in the religious world. It was entitled On the Errors of the Trinity." It was written in rather crude Latin, with thoughts not too well digested or arranged, though its main intention is clear enough, and it shows a remarkable range of reading for a youth. It was put on sale in the Rhine cities, and its influence soon spread far and wide through Switzerland and Germany and into northern Italy; and wherever it was read it won marked attention. Servetus seems naively still to have expected that the re- 1De Trinitatis Erroribus libri septem. Per Michaelem Serveto, alias Reves, ab Aragonia Hispanum. Anno MDXXXI. pp. 2388, small oat THE EARLY LIFE OF SERVETUS 59 formers would actually welcome his contribution to their cause as soon as they took time to reflect on what he had to say; but instead they were thrown into the greatest conster- nation by it. Melanchthon, it is true, admitted that he was reading it a good deal; and he and (&colampadius agreed that it contained many good points; but any slight praise was soon drowned by the general chorus of denun- ciation. To Luther it seemed “an abominably wicked book”; Melanchthon foresaw (correctly enough, as the event proved) great tragedies resulting from it ; dicolampa- dius saw the whole Reformation imperiled by this new Hy- dra, if he were tolerated, since the Emperor would hold the Protestant churches_responsible. for. these odious blasphe- ‘mies ; Bucer said from his pulpit that the author deserved to be drawn and quartered;' and the vocabulary in general was exhausted for offensive epithets to heap upon him. It was charged that he must have gone to Africa and learned his doctrine from the Moors, and that he was in secret league with the Grand Turk who was just then threatening to conquer Christian Europe. As soon as the character of the book became generally known the sale of it was forbid- den at Basel and Strassburg; and when it was brought next year to the notice of Quintana, to his infinite chagrin that it should have been written by one who had been his protégé, he had “that most pestilent book” at once prohibited | throughout the Empire. So thoroughly was it suppressed that some twenty years later, when a copy was eagerly > wanted at Geneva in the trial of Servetus for heresy, not one could be found. At the request of Gicolampadius, Bucer wrote a refuta- tion of Servetus’s book (which, however, he never ventured 1So Calvin wrote in 1553, long afterwards; but the authenticity of this statement is much doubted. weet 60 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE to publish), and he warned him that though he would not himself do him the least harm, the magistrate would no longer suffer him to stay at Strassburg, nor would he him- self intercede with the magistrate in Servetus’s behalf. Ser- vetus therefore returned to Basel, where he had previously made at least a partial living by giving language lessons; and he brought with him‘a part of the edition of his book to dispose of there or to send on to the book fair at Lyon. Here too he found the feeling against him so intense that he scarcely knew what to expect next. Accordingly he wrote to Gicolampadius offering to leave town if it were thought best, but also saying that he was willing to publish a retrac- tion of what he had written. Indulgence was given him, and the result was that the following spring he brought out another and smaller book, entitled Dialogues on the Trinity; for the dialogue was at that time a favorite form for “dis= cussing subjects of every sort. This new work was hastily and carelessly done, but it was ostensibly meant to correct the errors and imperfections of the former book which, he said, were due partly to his own lack of skill, and partly to the carelessness of the printer. It was in fact intended only to strengthen his _ former arguments by meeting the objections which the re-_ , formers had raised against them; and he prided himself that_ they had not brought forward a single passage of Scripture to disprove what he had said. He omitted, to be sure, some of the objectionable things in the first book, and he restated his views in language somewhat nearer the teaching of the Church ; but so far as his main purpose was concerned, it was the same thought as before, only expressed more briefly, and in another form. His opponents were in no wise appeased, and as he lacked both friends and money, while his ignorance of German hindered him in trying to earn his bread, he now THE EARLY LIFE OF SERVETUS 61 left the German world, and for more than twenty years was as completely lost to sight as if the earth had opened and swallowed him up. What became of him, what an adventur- ous and exciting life he led during this long period, and how at length he suffered a cruel death for the same teachings that obliged him to leave Germany now, must be told in a later chapter. What now was the teaching of these books, that they should have so shocked the reformers? Let us glance at them in the briefest and clearest summary of them possible. Taking the teaching of the Bible as absolute and _ final au- thority, Servetus held that the nature of God can not be divided, as by any doctrine of one being in three persons, inasmuch as no such doctrine is taught in the Bible, to which indeed the very terms Trinity, essence, substance, and the like as used in the Creeds are foreign, being mere inven- tions of men. The earlier Fathers of the Church also knew nothing of them, and they were simply foisted upon the Church by the Greeks, who cared more to make men philoso- phers than to have them to be true Christians. Equally ‘unscriptural is the doctrine of the two natures in Christ. He pours unmeasured scorn and satire on these doctrines, calling them illogical, unreasonable, contradictory, imagi- nary; and he ridicules the received doctrine of the Holy Spirit. The doctrine of one God in three persons he says can not be proved, nor even really imagined; and it raises questions which can not be answered, and leads to countless heresies. ‘Those that believe in it are fools and blind: they become in effect atheists, since they are left with no real God at all; while the doctrine of the Trinity really involves a Quaternity of four divine beings. It is the insuperable obstacle to the conversion of Jews and Mohammedans to 1See page 32. 62 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Christianity; ! and such blasphemous teachings ought to be utterly uprooted from men’s minds. In place of these artificial doctrines of the Creeds, Serve- tus draws from the Bible the following simple doctrines, and quotes many texts to prove them... Firstly, the man Je-_ sus, of whom the Gospels tell, is the Christ, anointed of God. Secondly, this man Jesus the Christ is proved by his mirac- ulous powers and by the statements of Scripture to be Jit- erally the human Son of God, because miraculously begot- ten by him. Thirdly, this man is also God, since he is filled with the divinity which God had granted him; hence he is_ divine not by nature, as the Creeds teach, but solely by God’s gift. God himself is incomprehensible, and we can know him only through Christ, who is thus all in all to us. The Holy Spirit is a power of God,” sent in the form of an angel or_ spirit to make us holy. And the only kind of Trinity in which we may rightly believe is this: that God reveals him- self to man under three different aspects (dispositiones) ; for the same divinity which is manifested in the Father is also shared with his Son Jesus, and with the Spirit which. dwells in us, making our bodies, as St. Paul says, “‘the tem- ple of God.” Servetus is often reckoned the first and greatest martyr of Unitarianism; but though all this was of course a very different doctrine from that of the Creeds, it will have been seen that Servetus was not a Unitarian in any true sense-- He was more like a Sabellian * than anything else, though really his system was peculiar to himself. So it has always remained, for no school of followers rose after him, as after Luther and Calvin, to take up his teachings and carry them 1See page 53. 2 Compare Campanus’s teaching, page 48. 3 See page 15. THE EARLY LIFE OF SERVETUS 63 on. As a matter of fact, he never withdrew from the Cath- olic Church, and he says at the end of his second little book that he does not wholly agree nor wholly disagree with either party. Both Catholic and Protestant seem to him to teach partly truth and partly error, while each perceives only the other’s errors, but not his own. The matter would be easy enough, he says, if one might only speak out freely in the Church what he felt was God’s truth now, without re- gard to what ancient prophets may have said. Yet while Servetus made few converts to his precise sys- tem of thought, his two little books, though they probably did not circulate in very large numbers,’ spread far and wide,” and had an epoch-making influence; for they focused men’s attention sharply upon the foundations of the doc- trine of the Trinity. The Catholic world paid little atten- tion to them, but their influence on the Protestant world was at once shown. Instead of converting the reformers to — his own views as he had hoped, Servetus simply made them; more than ever firmly determined to adhere to the doctrines of the Catholic Creeds. Melanchthon, whom we have seen _in_his first treatise passing the Trinity by as barely deserv- ing mention, and as not necessary to salvation,® in his next edition in 1535 treats the doctrines which Servetus had at- tacked as absolutely necessary to salvation. Calvin, whom | we also saw in his first Catechism slurring over the doctrine of the Trinity very lightly,* gives it full treatment in his Institutes in 1536, and in 1553 will have Servetus burned at the stake for denying it. All the Protestant creeds are careful henceforth to be unmistakably orthodox on this 1 They were put on sale only at Strassburg and Frankfurt. 2 See page 66. _*-3See page 40. 4See page 40. 64 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE point. On the other hand, many who read Servetus became convinced with him that the Trinity is no doctrine of the Bible, and hence ceased to believe it. We shall find numer- ous traces of his thought in the course of the following chapters. Twenty years later Servetus enlarged these little books into a much more important one, as we shall see; but al- though it brought him to the stake, and thus gave his denial of the Trinity great notoriety, all but a very few copies of it were destroyed before any one had a chance to read them, and it is not known to have had any considerable influence. It is through the two little books spoken of in this chapter that Servetus started men out on the line of thought which led at length to modern Unitarianism. How the influence of them spread, undermining belief in the Trinity in various countries during the next twenty years, remains to be seen in the next two chapters. CHAPTER IX ANTITRINITARIANISM IN NORTHERN ITALY, 1517-1553 In the two previous chapters we have seen how, during the early years of the Reformation, in Protestant Holland, Germany, and Switzerland, antitrinitarian thought arose only to be at once suppressed. In the present chapter we shall have to trace how at the same time the same sort of thing went on in Catholic Italy. In that country, where men could see the grossest corruptions of the Church at close range, and were anxious to see it purified, the ideas of the reformers at first spread very widely. But the Church’s power to suppress heresy was so great that the Reforma- tion never gained much foothold south of the Alps save in two regions, the Republic of Venice, and the Grisons in southeastern Switzerland; and it is in these two districts that we shall find an interesting development toward Uni- tarian beliefs. The city of Venice, as the commercial metropolis of Southern Europe, had a very active commerce with the man- ufacturing cities of Protestant Germany. Hence although Venice had long had on its books the usual laws against heresy, including one for the burning of heretics, the au- thorities were loath to enforce them strictly, lest their trade with the northern Protestants should be injured. The re- sult was that the Reformation teachings which early were brought to Venice by German traders rapidly spread in the 65 66 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE city, and before long to all the larger towns of the Venetian territory. Many Protestant congregations were formed and regular meetings were held, though of course with more or less secrecy for fear of persecution. Along with other Protestants, Anabaptist preachers also began early to cross the Alps, probably by way of the Gri- sons, and their doctrines too spread with great rapidity. By the middle of the sixteenth century over sixty places are reported where they had congregations, and there were © doubtless many more than these. The Italian Anabaptists were better organized than their northern brethren, for be- sides regular ministers they had numerous “bishops,” who traveled about from church to church, preaching, ordaining ministers, keeping up close relations between the various con- gregations, and warning them of danger. Although they had a few members of wealth, or even of noble birth, they were almost entirely of the humble classes, mainly artizans ; and of course they had to meet secretly in private houses. They manifested the saine liberal tendencies in belief here as north of the Alps, and these received a strong additional im- pulse from the little books of Servetus on the Trinity, which seem to have been widely circulated among them. His influ- ence in these parts had by 1539 spread to such an extent that reports of it reached Melanchthon, and a letter in his name was addressed to the Senate of Venice, urging that every effort be used to suppress the abominable doctrine of Servetus which had been introduced there; * though the let- ter, if ever received, had little effect. How thoroughly the orthodox teaching had decayed 1 Melanchthon afterwards denied responsibility for the letter, though approving its sentiments. The material thing is that it gives contem- porary evidence of the active currency of Servetus’s views in Venice in the late 1530’s. ANTITRINITARIANISM IN ITALY 67 among these Anabaptists of northern Italy is shown by the conclusions of a remarkable church Council which they held at Venice in 1550—so far as is known the only Council they ever held at all. They had a strong church at Vicenza, and discussion had arisen there in that or the previous year as to whether Christ were God or man; and as there was a difference of opinion, it was decided to call together a Coun- cil to determine the matter. Messengers were sent to all the congregations in northern Italy, inviting each of them to send its minister and a lay delegate. The Council met at Venice in September, 1550, and was attended by some sixty delegates from several of the larger cities and many of the smaller towns in Italy, as well as from congregations in the Grisons, and from St. Gallen and Basel in Switzerland. It is inferred that as many as forty churches must have been represented. The delegates were carefully scattered about in lodgings so as not to attract attention and invite persecution, and their expenses were contributed by the larger congregations. The sessions were held in secret, and continued almost daily for forty days; they were opened with prayer, and the Lord’s Supper was celebrated three times. Having taken the teaching of Scripture for their sole authority, they at length agreed upon ten points of doc- trine. The one of most interest to us here is the very first article, which declares that Christ was not God but man, born of Joseph and Mary, but endowed with divine powers. These conclusions were made binding upon all their congre- gations, and were accepted by all but one, which was there- fore forced to break off fellowship with the others; and one Pietro Manelfi, who had formerly been a Catholic priest, but having turned Protestant had for the past year been a trav- eling Anabaptist preacher, visiting the scattered congrega- tions all over northern and central Italy, was appointed 68 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE one of two to go about among them and preach the doc- trines just adopted.* Meanwhile the Protestant doctrines had been making such alarming progress in Italy that the means previously used by the Catholic Church to suppress heresy were proving in- sufficient, so that in 1542 the Italian Inquisition had been established for the especial purpose of hunting out heretics and bringing them to punishment; and in the Venetian ter- ritory many Protestants had already been imprisoned or banished, had recanted or fled. Perhaps scenting danger to himself, the ex-priest Manelfi, about a year after the Council at Venice, returned to the obedience of the Roman Church, appeared before the Inquisition, gave a full account of the spread of Anabaptism and of the proceedings of the Coun- cil, and betrayed the names of all the members whom he could recall. Orders were at once issued for their arrest, and trials of them went on at Venice during the next year. Some recanted, some fled the country and went to Turkey where under Mohammedan rule they could find the freedom of worship denied them in Christian Italy, some seem to have joined a community of Anabaptists in Moravia, many doubtless suffered imprisonment, and two or three, returning to Italy years afterwards, were then seized and put to death. The burning of heretics had ceased to be practised at Ven- ice, for the reason given above.” Instead, a method of ex- 1The above account of the Council at Venice, based upon records of the Inquisition brought to light in 1885, represents the truth probably underlying the more or less legendary account (first published as late as 1678) of certain “conferences” said to have been held at Vicenza in 1546 and participated in by nearly all the Italians who afterwards pro- moted Unitarian thought, and also to have anticipated most of the distinctive doctrines of seventeenth century Socinianism. The account of these interesting conferences given in all the books hitherto had now best be forgotten. 2 See page 65. ANTITRINITARIANISM IN ITALY 69 ecution was used which would be more secret, and hence bring less reproach upon the city. In the darkness of mid- night the victim, attended only by a priest to act as confes- sor, was taken in a gondola out into the Adriatic, where a second gondola was in waiting. A plank was laid between the two, and the prisoner, weighted with stone, was placed upon it. A signal was given, the gondolas parted, and the heretic was no more, Thus in the Republic of Venice antitrinitarian beliefs, which had come to prevail in a large majority of the Ana- baptist congregations, came to a tragic end. Of the most numerous congregation, that at Vicenza, at least a few mem- bers still remained in 1553, in correspondence with one of their faith in Switzerland; but though many others doubt- less continued here and there to cherish their faith in pri- vate, or to speak of it to trusted friends, they no longer dared do anything to win converts to it, and we hear no more of them, there or elsewhere. We noted, however, that some of the delegates to the Council at Venice came from Anabaptist congregations in the Grisons, and we must next turn thither to trace another chapter of struggle and persecution. CHAPTER X ANTITRINITARIANISM IN THE GRISONS, 1542-1579 The antitrinitarian movement which in the last chapter we followed among the Anabaptists of northern Italy was, as was noted, with few exceptions a movement among the poor and humble. Its main concern was with practical re- forms of the Christian religion, considered as a means of bringing men nearer to God. We have now to turn to a quite different sort of movement, which took its rise among some of the most highly cultivated minds in Italy, and was mainly concerned with the reform of the Christian doctrines. It was the latter of these two antitrinitarian tendencies that was destined in the next generation to take root among the liberal Protestants of Poland, and to determine the pre- vailing character of the Unitarian movement for nearly three centuries. The spirit of free inquiry which began with Italian Hu- manism in the generation before the Reformation had no little influence on some of the finest spirits in the Catholic Church, able scholars, eloquent preachers, and noble ladies; and through these it soon began widely to affect the edu- cated middle classes, especially in the cities. This move- ment, which was much influenced by the writings of the Ger- man reformers, aimed at reform from within the Church, and sought to lead men to cultivate a simple, devout form of Christianity, which greatly valued religion as a personal experience, but laid little emphasis upon creeds or doctrines. 70 ANTITRINITARIANISM IN THE GRISONS 71 This first step toward a more liberal form of faith within the bosom of the Catholic Church can best be followed by our now speaking of several persons active in this movement, who were of importance in the religious history of the time. Juan de Valdez was a Spanish nobleman, born about 1500, who had to flee from the Spanish Inquisition and in 1530 came to Italy to live. He was a gentleman of rare accom- plishments and great social charm, and his home at Naples became the resort of noble ladies and gentlemen, distin: guished scholars, and famous preachers of the religious or- ders. He had accepted the views of Luther, and in meetings which he used to hold at his house at Naples on Sundays for religious conversation he introduced them to his guests. Thus, and through books of his which are still prized as devo- tional classics, he exerted a wide influence in favor of spirit- ual and undogmatic religion. Fortunately for himself he died, universally lamented, in 1541, the year before the founding of the Italian Inquisition, which, had he lived much longer, would undoubtedly have called him to account. For while it is not correct to call him an Antitrinitarian, as has often been done, yet he carefully avoids the doctrine of the Trinity in his writings; and the tendency of his influence may be judged from the fact that several of those who fell under it became decidedly heretical on this point, as we shall see in this and later chapters. Even more famous than Valdez, and of wider influence, was Bernardino Ochino. He was born at Siena in 1487, was of humble parentage and limited education, though of great natural talents, and was destined to be esteemed incom- parably the best preacher in Italy. Seeking to save his soul. by a more holy life, he entered the order of St. Francis in young manhood, and after twenty years becoming dissatisfied with the laxity of this he joined the yet stricter order of (2 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Capuchin Friars, in which he received the singular honor of being twice chosen Vicar-General. ‘The preaching of the Catholic Church was at that time done exclusively by the friars; and Ochino, now become celebrated for his eloquent preaching, drew immense crowds to hear his Lenten sermons at Venice and Naples, and was everywhere received with the greatest distinction, while at the same time revered almost as a saint for his self-denying and holy life. While thus preaching at Naples he was drawn within the circle of Val- dez’s influence, and became deeply interested in the reforma- tion of the Church, and in a religion which should lay much stress upon a devout and holy life, but little upon the doc- trines of the Creeds. He was in a fair way, through his great influence over the people, to become the Luther of Italy, when the Inquisition resented his public criticism of its intolerant spirit, and summoned him to appear before it in Rome. Having received an intimation that his death was already determined upon, he fled from Italy in 1542 by way of the Grisons, and joined the Protestants beyond the Alps. In a later chapter we shall follow his career there, where late in life he was suspected of having become an Antitrini- tarian. Meanwhile he left behind.him in Italy an influence on many who soon had to flee lke himself, of whom several are counted among the early Antitrinitarians. A more tragic fate befell Aonio Paleario, who was born about 1500, embraced the scholar’s life, and became a pro- fessor at several of the Italian universities. He too became greatly interested in the reform of religion in much the same way as Valdez and Ochino, and though several times threat- ened with prosecution for heresy, he was defended by such powerful friends that he escaped. At length, however, the Inquisition laid its relentless hands upon him, and after ANTITRINITARIANISM IN THE GRISONS 73 three years’ imprisonment at an advanced old age, he was hanged, and his body burned, in 1570. The cases of these three distinguished Italian Catholics who wished to reform the religion of their Church will serve to illustrate how in Italy the ground was being mellowed to receive the seeds of more radical thought. For if the first article of the Creeds could be passed over by these leaders as not vitally important to Christianity, the next step would be yet more easy: to reject it outright as not scriptural, or not reasonable, and hence as not true. This next step was soon taken, as we shall see, though not in Italy. For begin- ning with 1542 the Inquisition became ever more active in scenting out Protestant heresy and persecuting heretics. Whenever one of any importance was discovered, and was unwilling to renounce his faith, he had to flee the country in haste, as Ochino had done, lest he perish as Paleario did. So that during the next generation large numbers of Italian refugees emigrated to Switzerland or beyond, where they might both preserve their lives and keep their religious faith. The nearest and most convenient place of refuge, to which most of them first fled, was the Grisons, which lay safely beyond the reach of the Inquisition, yet partly on the Ital- ian side of the Alps, with the climate which Italians loved, and a Janguage which they could understand. The Grisons at the time of the Reformation were a loose confederation, in the extreme southeast of Switzerland, of three leagues which had asserted their independence of other powers and in 1471 had joined together in a highly democratic republic, and had early in the sixteenth century come to include ad- joining districts in Italy, to which in our time they again belong. It is a country of varied and beautiful scenery ly- ing both north and south of the Alps, with narrow and se- 74 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE cluded Alpine valleys and lofty snow-peaks; and its valleys, passes, and towns are well known to travelers. Numerous heretics in these remote valleys are said to have escaped the vigilance of the Church all through the Middle Ages; and the Reformation spread so rapidly here that in 1526 the Diet of Ilanz decreed equal religious free- dom to Protestants and Catholics, and recognized the Scrip- tures as the only authority in religion, though at the same time it outlawed the Anabaptists, and ordained that heretics should be punished by banishment. The Grisons were thus at this time more advanced in religious toleration than any other country in Christian Europe. Anabaptists expelled from Ziirich had come here almost as soon as the Reformation itself, and the teachings of Denck spread with the rest, soon followed by those of Ser- vetus; but the most active influences came from the Italian refugees. By 1550 more than two hundred of them, and by 1559 more than eight hundred, had passed this way, the number steadily rising as the Inquisition grew more severe. Their preachers, most of them formerly preachers of the religious orders who had been influenced by the teachings of Luther, were eagerly welcomed for the aid they could give in spreading the Reformation among the Italian popula- tion; and in an atmosphere of comparative freedom their re- ligious thought developed so rapidly, that it was not long before some of them came quite to disbelieve doctrines rane hitherto they had only ignored. The first of these Italians to attract attention by his unorthodox teaching in the Grisons was an ex-monk, Fran- cesco of Calabria, who had been one of the followers of Val- dez, and who maintained that he was a disciple of Ochino. He was pastor of a church in the Lower Engadine where, along with certain Anabaptist doctrines and the denial of ANTITRINITARIANISM IN THE GRISONS 75 eternal punishment, he seemed to teach that Christ was in- ferior to God. The orthodox therefore complained of him, and although he was strongly supported by his own parish, he was convicted of heresy and banished from the country in 1544. Another ex-monk and disciple of Ochino, Girolamo Marliano, pastor of the neighboring church of Lavin, besides holding Anabaptist views also taught that the doctrine of the Trinity, as commonly held, is contradictory and absurd. He was therefore dismissed by his church, and later went to Basel. A bolder step was taken by a mysterious traveling preacher who is known to us only by the name of Tiziano, and of whose origin and fate no memory survives. He had been in some cardinal’s court at Rome, had accepted the teachings of Luther, and had later become an Anabaptist. It was he that converted and re-baptized the priest Manelfi at Florence in 1548 or 1549, after which they together vis- ited the brethren at Vicenza; and at the Anabaptist Council] at Venice in 1550 he appeared as a delegate from some con- gregation in the Grisons, whither he had evidently had to flee from Italy. Besides his entertaining the usual Anabap- tist views, his especial offense was that he considered Christ only an ordinary man, filled with the divine Spirit, but not miraculously born. These views he preached at many places in the Grisons, winning numerous followers. But the ortho- dox at length became so enraged against him that he was in imminent danger of being put to death, had not milder coun- sels prevailed. He was arrested, and after long refusal was finally brought by threats of death to sign a statement which had been prepared for him, explicitly renouncing his errors. His influence over his followers having thus been destroyed, he was flogged through the streets, and forever banished from the country in 1554, 76 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE But the widest and deepest influence is generally ascribed to one Camillo. He was a Sicilian scholar, who had been with Valdez at Naples; and after embracing the doctrines of the Reformation he assumed the name by which he is best known, Renato, by which he signified his feeling that he had been “born again.” 4 nF S r. ‘ ® 1 { by - ; ; 4 or ' oe 4 is ihe a d ‘ . aa Shee i y a ve nae hari it 8 Oh An CHAPTER XXI DOWN TO THE BEGINNING OF UNITARIANISM IN TRANSYLVANIA IN 1564 If asked when and where Unitarianism was first organ- ized, the average person would be likely to answer that it was in America, or perhaps in England, about the begin- ning of the nineteenth century. He would be greatly amazed to be told that in a remote country of Europe Unitarian churches have had an unbroken history for more than three hundred and fifty years. That country is Transylvania, and we come now to the story of the heroic struggle of churches which began there at almost the same time with the separate organization of the Minor Reformed Church in Poland (whose tragic history has occupied the six preceding chapters), and which have bravely weathered all storms of persecution and misfortune down to the pres- ent day—hence by far the oldest Unitarian churches in the world. Transylvania formed (until the World War) the eastern quarter of the old kingdom of Hungary, to which it bore much the same relation as Scotland to England. It is about half as large as the state of Maine, or a quarter larger than Switzerland; hedged in on all sides by the lofty snow- capped Carpathians and other mountains, forest-covered, as the name of the country implies. It has a great variety of grand and beautiful natural scenery, and has been called the Switzerland of Hungary. One traveler writes that 209 210 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE whereas other lands are beautiful in spots, Transylvania is all beauty; while another calls it a sort of earthly para- dise. It has an agreeable climate, a fertile soil, and great mineral wealth; and ever since Roman times its mines have supplied a large part of the gold of Europe. So much for the physical background of our story. The history of the country has yet more to do with the de- velopment of it. Located on the extreme frontier of west- ern Europe, facing other civilizations, Transylvania has been in the natural path of conquest, and during sixteen centuries has been repeatedly overrun by armies. Early in the second century Trajan conquered it for the Romans, and it thus became the Roman province of Dacia Mediterranea. Trajan’s Column at Rome still stands to commemorate the conquest, and shows us how the inhabitants of that time looked. Then came various hordes of barbarians invading the Roman Empire, generally striking Transylvania first of all, plundering the land, destroying its towns and houses, and killing its people: the Goths in the third and fourth century; the Huns in the fifth, led by Attila, who struck such terror into Christian Europe that he was called “‘the scourge of God,” sent to punish the world for its sins; after them the Burgundians, Gepide, Lombards, and Avars, all leaving ruin and death in their train. Of all these it is the Huns that are of greatest interest to us, because when they. retreated eastward after their defeats in France and Italy, the remnants of Attila’s horde are said to have been stranded in the foothills of eastern Transylvania, and there settled in what is now known as Szeklerland. The reputed descendants of these, called Szeklers, form the bulk of the the Unitarians, a farmer people, having special political privileges, and hence called “nobles,” a sort of peasant aristocracy, altogether a very fine stock. BEGINNINGS IN TRANSYLVANIA 211 In the ninth century, under Arpad, came nearly a million Magyars, related to the Huns, and speaking the same tongue with them. After ravaging Europe for two generations, they finally settled in Hungary, where they have lived ever since in their whitewashed villages—another fine race, fond of liberty, and with a spirit and institutions not unlike those of the English and Americans. Most of them are Calvinists or Roman Catholics. In the thirteenth century a new element gradually came in from the eastern shores of the Adriatic, the Wallacks, whose descendants (now known as Rumanians) speaking a modern form of the Latin tongue, now comprise over half of the population: the peasantry of the land, picturesque, ignorant, degraded, and adhering chiefly to the Greek Catholic Church. In the thirteenth century also came another deluge of half a million Mongol Tatars, ravaging and plundering, burning and butchering, leaving three quarters of Hungary in ashes; while if their invasion was frightful, the repeated invasions of the Turks in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the bloody up- rising of the Rumanians in 1848, and last of all the desola- tions of the World War, have been hardly less so; and all these misfortunes have been further aggravated by the frequent plagues and famines that have followed in their wake. These afflictions have made of the survivors a heroic and self-reliant race, inured to hardship, indomitable in spirit, and devoted to freedom; as indeed they needed to be to face all the persecutions they were to suffer for their religious faith. Besides the Rumanians, the Szeklers, and the Magyars, of whom we have spoken, the remaining important element of the population of to-day are the “Saxons,” as they are called, all of them Lutherans in religion. They were brought from the region of the lower Rhine in the twelfth 212 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE century to settle and guard the frontier country, which re- peated wars had left a wilderness;! and in their isolation from the fatherland they still preserve little changed the language, customs, and dress of medieval Germany. Gypsies, Armenians, and Jews scattered here and there through the country complete the list of distinct stocks which people Transylvania, living side by side as separate as drops of oil and water, and differing from one another in race, in language, in religion, and in customs—a most in- teresting patch-work of people. Amid such surroundings Unitarianism has had its longest home. After being for several centuries a part of the Kingdom of Hungary, the Transylvanian nobles in 1526 elected a king from among their own people, John Zapolya, and dur- ing the ten years’ war which followed they maintained their cause against Hungary by the aid of the Sultan; and in return for his protection they continued to pay him annual tribute for more than 150 years, electing their princes subject to his approval, though in other respects they had an independent state until 1690, when Transylvania was joined to Austria. King John had for his queen, Isabella, daughter of King Sigismund I of Poland, but he died in 1540, only a few days after she had borne him a son, John Sigismund, whom the nobles elected King of Hungary soon after his. father’s death. He is notable for being the only Unitarian king in history.?, The young king was born to troubles, for there was in western Hungary also a rival king, supported in his claim by the Pope, as John was in his by the Sultan, and he looked with envious eyes upon Transylvania. Taking advantage of John’s infancy, and 1 They settled seven fortified towns, which enjoyed special privileges. Hence the German name for Transylvania, Siebenbiirgen. 2 Moses Szekely, who ruled as elected prince for but a few weeks in 1603, might also be mentioned. See page 249. BEGINNINGS IN TRANSYLVANIA 213 of the inexperience of the Queen-mother Isabella, who was acting as regent in his stead, he kept intriguing against Transylvania in every way possible. The result of many vicissitudes in the matter was that although John was nominallly King of Hungary, with dominions extending to the Tisza (Theiss), he actually held not much more than Transylvania alone; and in 1570, as the price of peace with the Emperor Maximilian II, it was agreed at the Diet of ‘Speyer that he should lay aside his empty title of king and his claim to the Hungarian crown, in return for the acknowl- edgment of Transylvania’s independence of Hungary. He died the following year. It is in his reign that the history of Unitarianism in Transylvania begins. Christianity is said to have reached Hungary even before Trajan, and the Goths in the fourth century fostered the Arianism which they professed. At the end of the eighth century, however, the Avars were converted to Catholic Christianity under Charlemagne, and when Transylvania was conquered in 1002 by St. Stephen, the first Christian king of Hungary, its inhabitants perforce accepted his religion. Hungary was too far away from Rome, however, and the Hungarians were of too independent spirit, for the Roman Church to gain complete power there. The simple, scriptural form of Christianity taught by the Albigenses and Waldenses was widely spread from the twelfth to the four- teenth century, and the reformation of the Hussites won many adherents a century later; and much persecution failed to suppress these heresies. The soil was thus well prepared for the Protestant Reformation. As early as 1520 Saxon merchants returning from Ger- many brought Luther’s books to Transylvania, where they found many eager readers; while two monks returning from Wittenberg preached the Reformation. Severe laws were 214 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE passed to prevent the spread of the heresy, some books were seized and burnt, and two persons were put to death by John Zapolya; but wars were on hand, the laws were not much enforced, and so the Reformation spread more rapidly in Hungary than in any other land. By 1535 all the Saxons had become Lutherans, and the Magyars and Szeklers rapidly followed, until at length only three of the magnates remained faithful to the Catholic Church, and even these attended Protestant worship. In 1556 the Catholic priests were driven out, and the church property was confiscated or given over to the Protestants; Hungarian students went in hundreds every year to Wittenburg to prepare for the Protestant ministry, and Catholicism seemed all but extinct. Nevertheless at the Diet of Torda in 1557 legal toleration of both religions was established when Isabella decreed, ‘in order that each might hold the faith which he wished, with the new rites as well as with the old, that this should be permitted him at his own free will.’ Save for the similar decree in the Grisons in 1526,! this was the first law in Christian Europe guaranteeing equal liberty to both re- ligions.”. The principle of full toleration to all religions was slow in developing, and was not realized until very long afterwards. At this same Diet of Torda it was decided to establish a national synod where the Protestant ministers might soberly discuss the serious differences of view which were already arising among them about the Lord’s Supper. This had already long been the subject of fierce controversy between 1 See page 74. 2The chief design of this decree evidently was to protect Catholics from persecution by Protestants. At this time Mohammedan Turkey allowed fuller religious liberty than Christian Europe, and more than once early Antitrinitarians were obliged to go there for refuge. (Cf. page 68.) ; BEGINNINGS IN TRANSYLVANIA 215 Lutherans and Calvinists elsewhere, the Lutherans holding that the body and blood of Christ are present in the bread and wine, while the Swiss reformers held that these are only symbols. Calvin’s doctrine had come into Hungary in 1550, and was rapidly infecting the Lutheran Protestants there, and Calvinistic churches were now being formed. In the end most of the Magyars and Szeklers became Calvinists, while the Saxons remained Lutherans; but the separation was preceded by some years of angry dispute. It is in one of the earliest of these discussions that we first hear, in 1556, of one Francis David (of whom we shall soon hear a great deal as the hero of this part of our story) taking part on the Lutheran side; and he was for some time the leader of the opposition to Calvinism among the Hungarian Protestants. The king became concerned lest the violent quarrels which were distracting the Church should also dis- turb the peace of the state, and he had synods called to see whether harmony could not be restored; but nothing was accomplished. The Diet of Torda therefore in 1563 re- newed and confirmed its earlier decree of toleration, order- ing “that each may embrace the religion that he prefers, without any compulsion, and may be free to support preach- ers of his own faith, and in the use of the sacraments, and that neither party must do injury or violence to the other.” Seeing that all other efforts proved vain, the king at length settled the matter at the synod of Nagy Enyed the next year, by ordering the parties to separate into two distinct churches, each with its own superintendent or bishop. Transylvania thus took another step toward religious tolera- tion, having now three recognized churches, the Catholic, the Lutheran, and the Reformed. While these things were going on, seeds of Unitarianism were also beginning to sprout. It might almost be said 216 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE that the Hungarians had been predisposed to that doctrine by their history. As we have already seen, Arian Christian- ity flourished here under the Gothic occupation. In 351 also Photinus, Bishop of Sirmium (Mitrovicz) on the Save, was condemned as a heretic and banished for holding that Christ’s nature was essentially human. His heresy long survived him in those parts, and Unitarians have often been called Photinians.. Arianism existed more or less widely spread as late as the formal conversion of the Hungarians to orthodox Christianity in 1002; and even after that it fused with the faith of the Albigenses and Waldenses until the fifteenth century, and was widely spread among the people. Early in the Reformation period Ana- baptists had also been here and prepared the way, and the writings of Servetus had been read and his doctrines had gained scattered followers, so that the first Protestant synod in Hungary had found it necessary as early as 1545 to con- demn opponents of the Trinity. The first prophet of Unitarianism in Hungary was one Thomas Aran, who in 1558 wrote a clear and bold book denying the Trinity, and in 1561 began to preach his doctrine at Debreczen, the very Geneva of Hungarian Calvinism. The Calvinist preacher there, Peter Melius, was aroused like a Hungarian Calvin to put down the heresy. A public discussion was arranged, and the question was debated for four days; when such pressure was put upon Aran by the civil power that he confessed defeat and retracted, though he later pro- fessed Unitarianism again in Transylvania. His teachings, however, were discussed in various synods, and had spread so far that Melius felt obliged to publish a book against them. Not a few churches adopted them, both in the northern counties where he had taught and in the great plain of Lower Hungary. BEGINNINGS IN TRANSYLVANIA 217 It was in Transylvania, however, that Unitarianism had its most important influence. The real forerunner of Unita- rianism here was Stancaro. He had come to Transylvania in 1553, and for five years he persistently advocated the same views of the work of Christ which he spread a little later in Poland.1 He was bitterly opposed, by David and others, and at length was expelled and went to Poland, where we have already noted his career. Although he did not himself deny the Trinity or the deity of Christ, the result of his teaching was in both countries the same, to pave the way for others to deny them. Unitarian doc- trines were little likely, however, to make much headway against orthodox opposition unless they could have the back- ing and leadership of some person of considerable influence. Such a leader now came upon the scene in the person of Biandrata, who may be credited with successfully introduc- ing Unitarianism into Transylvania. We have already met him in Switzerland, and in Poland.? In 1554, when he was court physician to Queen Bona of Poland, she had sent him to Transylvania to attend her daughter, the young Queen Isabella, with her little son, the young Prince John Sigismund ; and he had then lived at the Transylvanian court for eight years. It was but natural, therefore, that when the young king lay dangerously ill in 1563 he should send for the able physician of his boyhood. Biandrata was glad enough to escape from a position in Poland which Calvin’s efforts against him had made disagreeable and might make dangerous, and to accept the high post of court physician to the King of Transylvania.® Until his sixteenth year John Sigismund’s education had 1See page 126. 2See pages 104, 105, 129, 132. 3See page 132. 218 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE been under Catholic influences, but he had now for several years supported the Reformation as a Lutheran. He had already driven out the priests and monks from the land; and now that he was hard beset by foes in war and by con- spiracies which his enemies had stirred up against him at home, he sought consolation in religion, and interested him- self seriously in the further reform of it. He was now twenty-three, and the Italian officer who commanded his body guard wrote home to his sovereign, the Grand-Duke Cosimo de’ Medici, giving a most interesting and admiring sketch, which is still extant. Though of slight physique, he says, and not strong of health, the king was skillful in all manly sports. He was highly intelligent, and spoke eight languages; of refined tastes and manners, and with a charming personality; brave, industrious, generous, and frank, distinguished for his personal virtues, and devoted to religion. His residence was at Gyulafehervar,’ which thus becomes an important place in our history. Biandrata, on the other hand, was now in the prime of life, and by his adventurous history, his handsome appear- ance, his courtly manners, and his eloquence he made a marked impression upon the king and at court, where he soon became the leading figure. Within a year he had won the confidence of the king to such a degree as to be made his private counsellor, and was presently rewarded by the handsome gift of three villages, and given the privileges of a noble; though just because of his great influence with the king he was feared, rather than popular, at court. He lost none of his interest in the reform of theology, but still kept in communication with the brethren in Poland; and 1 Also called Alba Julia, or Weissenburg; later known as Kar- olyfehervar, or Karlsburg. Hungarian proper names are a study in themselves ! BEGINNINGS IN TRANSYLVANIA 219 finding the king also deeply interested in religion he eagerly seconded and guided his impulses for further reformation, proceeding cautiously, and not at first disclosing how far he had himself gone. They must have talked much of theology from the first, for within a few months, when the controversy over the Lord’s Supper! was at its critical stage in 1564, the king sent ‘his most excellent Giorgio Biandrata, his physician, an eminent man, learned and uncommonly well versed in the Scriptures,’ to the general synod at Nagy Enyed at which the Calvinists were finally separated from the Lutherans, with full power and authority to take part in the discussion and if possible settle the controversy. Biandrata here of course took the side of progress and sup- ported the Calvinists, and here too he discovered in David, who was the leader on the Calvinist side of the debate, a man admirably suited to promote in Transylvania the further reform in which he had himself taken a part in Poland. As David was soon to become the great leader of Unitarianism in Transylvania, its hero, martyr, and idol, we must here turn aside from our narrative to see who and what he was. 1See page 214. CHAPTER XXII FRANCIS DAVID AND THE RISE OF UNITA- RIANISM IN TRANSYLVANIA, 1564-1569 Francis David* was born at Kolozsvar (Klausenburg), the capital of Transylvania, about 1510, and was thus a close contemporary of Calvin and Servetus, and a few years older than Biandrata. He was the son of a shoe- maker, and perhaps a Saxon, though he spoke and wrote both German and Hungarian, as well as Latin, with perfect fluency. He was doubtless first educated at the school of the Franciscan monks at Kolozsvar, and later went to the cathedral school at Gyulafehervar, where he showed him- self a brilliant student, and made influential acquaintances. After being in the service of the church here for a time, he was sent by a wealthy friend to the University of Witten- berg, where many Catholic students still went in spite of Luther’s heresy centering there. He may also have studied at Padua. After two or three years he returned home in 1551 an accomplished scholar and became rector of a Catholic school at Besztercze for two years, and was then for two years more parish priest of a large village in the same county. Many of the Catholic clergy of the vicinity were then accepting the doctrines of the Reformation. David joined them, gave up his priesthood, and became a Lutheran. His reputation was already such that three of the most 1The Latin form, Franciscus Davidis, is often found. The name in Hungarian is David Ferencz. 220 EARLY UNITARIANISM IN TRANSYLVANIA 221 important Protestant churches in the country called him to their service. He accepted the call to his old home at Kolozsvar, where he spent the remaining twenty-four years of his life, in a position of the greatest influence, and idol- ized by his people. David’s rise was now rapid. He seems to have been made rector of the Lutheran school in 1555, and chief minister of the largest church the following year; while by 1557, having already won a great reputation by his brilliant de- bates against Stancaro and the Calvinists,! and thus come to be recognized as the leader of the Reformation in Transylvania, he was bishop (or superintendent) of the Hungarian Lutherans. He was, however, by nature, of an open mind, and after debating against the Calvinist view of the Lord’s Supper for several years, he was at length won over to it by its chief defender, Melius, and accord- ingly resigned his office of bishop in 1559. Though the Lutherans expelled him from their synod in 1560, he still kept his pastorate, and tried to the very end to prevent a split in the church. He took an active part in the debates that occupied every synod, and now came to be regarded the leader of the Calvinists as he had formerly been that of the Lutherans. His persuasive eloquence won the king and many of the magnates to the new view, and when the two churches were separated in 1564 it was but natural that Biandrata should have used his powerful influence to have another removed and Dayid appointed in his stead, first as court preacher, and then as bishop—this second time as bishop of the new Reformed Church in Transylvania. David was now at the very summit of his powers, the most eloquent and famous preacher and the ablest public debater in Transylvania; so well versed in Scripture that he seemed 1See pages 215, 217. 222 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE to have the whole Bible at his tongue’s end, while in debat- ing a point of doctrine he would quote texts and compare passages with a readiness that often put his opponents to confusion. Having David at court, Biandrata now be- came intimate with him, and confided to him his hopes of a further reformation of the doctrines of the Church. Biandrata, taught by his past experiences in Italy, Switzer- land, and Poland, was cautious and moved slowly. David was bold and fearless. In that very year, in the king’s presence at the Diet of Segesvar, he openly spoke against the Trinity ; and the king, instead of objecting, only smiled. In 1566 David found one of the professors in the Kolozsvar schoo] teaching the old doctrine about the Trinity, and ventured to correct him. The teacher, angered, publicly charged David with heresy. David had him removed, and then began carefully and systematically to preach the unity of God from his Kolozsvar pulpit. The teacher went to Hungary and joined Melius who, with the spirit of a new Athanasius, made himself the champion of orthodoxy, and from Calvin and Beza brought the king warnings against Biandrata, and asked that a synod be called to debate the matter. Prolonged and heated controversy followed, and from now on for nearly five years there were almost every month debates over the doctrine of the Trinity at synod, Diet, or public debate. Many of these discussions took the shape of forma] disputations, in which each side appointed its best debaters to present and defend carefully framed theses and antitheses, while stenographic reports were taken by the secretaries. At several of these the king himself pre- sided and occasionally took part, while the clergy and the nobles from far and near would be present in large numbers. The records would then be published on a press which the EARLY UNITARIANISM IN TRANSYLVANIA 223 king had already provided for Biandrata and David to use in their work of reformation, and these became valuable documents for propaganda throughout the whole country ; for people at that time were as keenly interested in these themes as they can now be in the most burning political questions. Public discussion of the doctrine of the Trinity began in Transylvania at the national synod held at Gyulafehervar, and thence adjourned to Torda, early in 1566. The min- isters present, under the leadership of Biandrata and David, after accepting the Apostles’ Creed, adopted a statement of their belief on the Trinity which gave it a Unitarian in- terpretation, and rejected the Athanasian doctrine as un- tenable. At another synod a few weeks later they expressed their belief more fully and carefully, and soon afterwards they published a catechism. Their purpose, like that of Servetus and the Polish Brethren, seems to have been simply to restore the doctrine of the New Testament and the primitive Church, as a basis on which all Christians might unite, Melius, who had by now become bishop of the Reformed Church in Hungary, had thus far been disputing on hostile territory, where the liberals were in the majority; the next year he therefore called a synod at Debreczen in his own district, and got some strongly orthodox propositions adopted, while the Helvetic Confession just adopted in Switzerland as a bar to further heresy there * was signed by his ministers. In Transylvania meanwhile the press was busy on the other side, especially with a book On the True and the False Knowledge of the One God, which sought, among other things, to ridicule the absurdities of the doc- trine of the Trinity by means of coarse pictures, and there- 1 See page 110. 224 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE fore greatly angered the orthodox, while it made an indelible impression upon the minds of the common people. In his dedication of this book to the king, David makes a plea for toleration which is far in advance of his age: ‘There is no greater piece of folly than to try to exercise power over conscience and soul, both of which are subject only to their Creator.” This spirit found sympathy with the king, and soon afterwards, at a Diet at Torda in January, 1568, where David made an eloquent plea for religious toleration, the decrees of 1557 and 1563+ were renewed and strengthened. The king decreed “that preachers shall be allowed to preach the Gospel everywhere, each according to his own under- standing of it. If the community wish to accept such preaching, well and good; if not, they shall not be compelled, but shall be allowed to keep the preachers they prefer. No one shall be made to suffer on account of his religion, since faith is the gift of God.” This is the Magna Charta of religion in Transylvania, and it deserves to be remembered as a golden date in Unitarian history, for it saved the Unitarian faith from being crushed out there as it was in other lands. In the generation in which it was passed, the Inquisition was doing its worst to crush Protestantism in Spain and Italy, Alva was putting Protestants to death by the thousands in the Netherlands, and the massacre of St. Bartholomew with its 20,000 or 30,000 victims in France was yet four years in the future; while deniers of the Trinity were still to be burned alive in England for more than forty years. It long stood as the most advanced step in toleration yet taken in Europe; and the king who passed this enlightened law was but twenty-eight years old. Melius, displeased with the way things were running, now 1See pages 214, 215. EARLY UNITARIANISM IN TRANSYLVANIA = 225 sought to stem the tide by inviting the Transylvanian min- isters to a joint debate at Debreczen in Hungary, where everything was strongly orthodox; but as this was out of the jurisdiction of King John, so that they could not enjoy the protection of his tolerant laws, and as a few weeks before an antitrinitarian minister had been seized in that vicinity and imprisoned without trial, Biandrata suspected a plot, and would not let the invitation be accepted. Instead, the king, wishing to see the debated questions settled, and to quiet the disturbances that were arising out of them, sum- moned a general synod of the ministers of both Hungary and Transylvania to meet in his own palace at Gyulafehervar, to hear a formal debate on the subject. Five debaters, led by Biandrata and David, represented the Unitarian side, while on the side of the Calvinists were six speakers, headed by their bishop, Melius. It was the greatest debate in the whole history of Unitarianism. It took place at Gyualafehervar in the great hall of the palace before the king, the whole court, and a great throng of ministers and nobles, who occasionally enlivened the proceedings by their questions or comments. The debate began on March 8, 1568, at five o’clock in the morning, with solemn prayers on each side; it was conducted in Latin, and lasted ten full days. Melius appealed to the authority of the Bible, the creeds, the Fathers, and the orthodox theologians ; David, to the Bible alone. The discussion began with some heat, which did not much cool off as it went on. On the ninth day the Calvinists asked to be excused from listening further. The king intimated that this would be confessing defeat, and they remained; but as nothing was being ac- complished to bring the parties to agree (how could it ever have been really expected?) the king ended the debate the 226 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE next day, recommending that the ministers give themselves to prayer, seek harmony, and refrain from mutual abuse as unbecoming in them. The debate was generally regarded as a complete victory for the Unitarians, whose side the king evidently favored; but the Calvinist historian’s comment is that it ended with- out any profit to the Church of Christ, which was perhaps his way of stating the same thing. In the course of the debate Biandrata showed himself a poor debater, and he did not enter public discussion again; but David, who opened and closed the debate, and was ready with a con- vincing answer to every question or objection, covered him- self with glory. He now returned home to Kolozsvar. The news of his triumph had preceded him. The streets were crowded to receive him. Without waiting for him to get to the church, the people made him mount a large boulder at a street corner (it is still preserved by the Unitarians of Kolozsvar as a sacred relic) and speak to them of his victorious new doctrine. They received his word with the greatest enthusiasm, and after a time they took him on their shoulders and carried him to the great church in the square, where he went on with his sermon. His eloquence was so persuasive that on that day, so the tradition runs, the whole population of Kolozsvar accepted the Unitarian faith.t Not quite the whole, however; for the Lutheran Saxons of Kolozsvar were so disgusted with this proceeding that they left the city forthwith, and had it removed from the number of their seven fortified towns which had for centuries enjoyed special privileges granted to the Saxons.’ From now on for many years Kolozsvar was practically a 1 By a confusion of dates between the two debates at Gyulafehervar (see page 223), this event is often wrongly placed in 1566 instead of 1568. 2See page 212n. EARLY UNITARIANISM IN TRANSYLVANIA 227 Unitarian city, all its churches and schools were Unitarian, and all the members of the city Council and the higher officials were Unitarians. In this year, 1568, David for the third time became bishop, this time of the Unitarian churches. Being thus defeated in Transylvania, the Calvinists now appealed to the judgment of the professors in the German universities, who were considered the highest authorities in Protestant Europe on questions of theology. Of course the replies were in their favor, for all Germany was orthodox; and several of the professors wrote books against Da- vid and Biandrata, and tried to stir up feeling against them. They also began somewhat to rally their forces in Transylvania; while in Hungary, all through the year 1568, they kept holding synods in different districts, confirming the orthodox doctrine and condemning the Antitrinitarians. Disregarding the king’s decree of tolerance, they persecuted and drove out ministers holding Unitarian views, if they would not deny their faith, and forbade them to speak in their own defense, lest they thus make more converts to their views. Many, however, wished that a discussion might be held in the Hungarian language, which they could all understand. David therefore determined to carry the war into the enemy’s country, and with the king’s sanction called another synod to meet at Nagyvarad (Grosswardein) October 10, 1569. The orthodox clergy denied his right to summon them to a synod, having in Melius a bishop of their own, and at first were unwilling to attend, though at length they yielded. The conditions of the debate were carefully drawn, and officers appointed as usual]. David presented a statement of his faith and of the propositions he stood ready to defend. His opponents offered counter-arguments, and presented 228 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE propositions of their own, signed by sixty ministers. Gas- par Bekes presided, the most powerful magnate in the king- dom, and the king’s most intimate councillor. The king and his court were present with many generals and magnates, and the leading clergy from both Transylvania and Hun- gary; and he himself frequently took part in the discus- sion. The attendance was larger than even at Gyulafeher- var. There were nine disputants on each side, though the debate was mainly between David and Melius, and was carried on with the greatest intensity. On one occasion Melius attacked David with such violence that the king himself rebuked him, and suggested that if the orthodox ministers did not believe in freedom of conscience they had better remove to some other country. “We wish that in our dominions,” said he, “there be freedom of conscience; for we know that faith is the gift of God, and that one’s conscience can not be forced.” David pleaded eloquently for religious liberty. After six days the king saw that nothing further could be gained, and having charged the orthodox with evading the real issue he closed the debate. He, Bekes, the court, and the majority of the company were won to David’s views, and henceforth the king clearly accepted the Unitarian faith. The orthodox minority con- tented themselves with drawing up and signing a confession of faith of their own, condemning David and his views. This was the decisive debate in the controversy over the Trinity, and it clinched the victory won at Gyulafehervar two years before. CHAPTER XXIII UNITARIANISM IN TRANSYLVANIA UNTIL THE DEATH OF FRANCIS DAVID, 1569-1579 The churches accepting David’s views had now definitely separated from those of the orthodox faith, although it does not appear precisely when or precisely how the division was finally effected. They had thus far no distinctive name of their own. For a time the ministers signed themselves “ministers of the Evangelical profession”; in laws of 1576 they are mentioned as “those holding the religion of Francis David”; and as late as 1577 a vote of the Diet of Torda refers to them merely as “of the other religion’; while since the center of their power was at Kolozsvar, the churches and their bishop were also long spoken of as “of the Kolozsvar Confession.” There is some reason to think that in the debate between David and Melius the name Unitarian was already applied to the party of David, though it is not found in records until 1600, and it did not become the authorized designation of the Church until 1638. The guess of a Calvinist historian writing in the middle of the eighteenth century, that the name was derived from a union between the four religions of Transylvania in 1568, though it has often been quoted as authentic, must be dis- missed as incorrect. The name is undoubtedly derived from Unitarians’ belief in the wnity of God, as the name Trin- itarian was supposed to be derived from belief in the Trinity. Catholic writers of the period, however, commonly called 229 230 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the Unitarians Trinitarians (as Servetus had called Calvin), meaning by that nearly the same as tritheists. The name Unitarian, which thus originated in Transylvania, was at length taken up by the later Socinians, and thence passed to England and America. We are now at the golden age of Unitarianism in Transylvania, when the new faith rapidly spread in all di- rections, as rings spread on the water. The king had openly given it his adherence, and so of course the court followed his example to make doubly sure of enjoying his favor. At one time seven of his councillors became Unitarians; generals, judges, and many of the higher offi- cials followed, until there remained hardly a family of im- portance that had not accepted the new faith. Its strength was especially in the larger towns and in the villages of Szeklerland; while able professors whom David had secured, some of them distinguished refugees from persecution in other countries, taught it in thirteen higher schools or colleges, chief of which was the college founded by the king at Kolozsvar, and occupying the buildings of an abandoned Dominican monastery. The press, too, was unceasingly ac- tive in the cause, and in the one year 1568 no fewer than twelve works, eight of them by David himself, were pub- lished in Latin for scholars, or in Hungarian for the com- mon people. As in Poland,’ so here, when a noble became Unitarian, the churches on his estates were likely to be placed under ministers of his faith, and thus became Uni- tarian also. Before David died there were far over three hundred Unitarian churches in Transylvania and the neighboring counties of Hungary; and before the end of the century some four hundred and twenty-five, beside some 1See page 128 n. UNITARIANISM TO DAVID’S DEATH 231 sixty more in lower Hungary. This considerably exceeded the number in Poland. There was one misgiving to trouble David’s mind. So long as the king lived, they were sure of his protection and sympathy; but he was not in strong health—suppose he should die? To be sure, freedom of worship and preach- ing had been decreed, and persecution on account of re- ligion had been forbidden; but the Unitarian Church had no such legal standing as the other churches had. David urged this matter upon the attention of the king, and he was not slow to respond. At the Diet of Maros Vasarhely held early in 1571, after ample discussion, the king granted the people and church of Kolozsvar certain privileges which had been impaired by the withdrawal of the Saxons; and, what was of more importance, he established perfect equality of the four chief religions, Catholic, Lutheran, Reformed, and Unitarian. These were henceforth known as the four “ ceived religions”: that is, while other religions might be re- merely tolerated, these were legally recognized and pro- tected, and their members had the right to hold high public office. This action crowned the broad policy of King John Sigismund with regard to religious matters. All rulers of Transylvania were required henceforth to take oath at coronation to preserve the equal rights secured by this decree, and it has ever since been the most prized and the first mentioned of all the rights the constitution grants. It is worth more than passing notice that at the only time in history when there has been a Unitarian king on the throne, and a Unitarian government in power, they used their power not to oppress other forms of religion, nor to secure exceptional privileges for their own, but to insist upon equal rights and privileges for all. 232 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Less than two months after this act the king died. The day after the Diet rose, while he was about to go to one of his castles for a rest, he was seriously injured by a runaway accident. His health was already frail, complica- tions set in, and he passed away at Gyulafehervar March 15, 1571, not yet thirty-one years old. He was deeply mourned, for, apart from animosities arising out of religion, he had been popular with his subjects for his qualities of mind and heart and for his personal character, and was known for his justice and mercy. During his whole reign he had had to contend with enemies who coveted his throne and land, and who were constantly inciting troubles within his kingdom. Nine times his life had been attempted. He died childless, for though he would gladly have married, his enemies repeatedly prevented such an alliance, urging against him that he was an abandoned heretic, but really desiring to see his line become extinct, that they might ob- tain his crown. Though always in delicate health he more than once showed himself an able general and a resourceful statesman; and realizing that Transylvania would fare best if separate from Hungary, he followed a policy which laid the foundation for a century of independent national life for his country. He fostered science and art, was the friend of scholars and the patron of education, doing much to found and support schools and colleges; but above all else he was interested in religion, and no name among mod- ern rulers deserves to stand higher than his for his pioneer work in the cause of equal freedom to different religions. Let him be remembered by us in honor as the one Unitarian king. While Unitarianism was thus rapidly gaining ground in Transylvania, a more modest growth was also at the same time taking place in Hungary proper. Though his control UNITARIANISM TO DAVID’S DEATH ~— 233 of them was disputed, King John Sigismund was supposed to rule over ten or twelve of the Hungarian counties north and west of Transylvania; and although the Calvinists were strongly in the majority there, Unitarians were in the less danger of being persecuted in those parts. The chief apostle of the faith in the upper counties was Lukas Egri, minister of the church at Ungvar, and one of the most learned ministers in the country. He won so many converts to his views that the synod was forced to take notice of it in 1566, when he presented a statement of belief that was regarded as unsound as to the Trinity, though no action was then taken. Two years later the orthodox called another synod at Kassa, under the auspices of the Catholic General Schwendi who was in command there. Egri was summoned to attend, and presented twenty-seven theses, which were debated. He was condemned as heretical; and as he refused to retract and sign an orthodox confession, the general threw him into prison without further trial,’ and there he lay for five long years, nor was he released until three years after he had recanted. The spread of Unitarianism in Hungary was also much furthered by the last great con- troversy between David and Melius at Nagyvarad in 1569.” Soon after that, Stephen Balasz (Basilius) succeeded in converting a church of 3,000 members at Nagyvarad to the Unitarian faith, and this church, with its fine school attached, lasted far on into the next century. A little later Unita- rianism was preached even at Debreczen, as well as at numerous other places east of the Tisza, and even as far west as Esztergom (Gran), and Melius had to exert him- self to the utmost to prevent its spread in other centers in Hungary. 1 See page 225. 2 See page 227. 234 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE In Lower Hungary the Unitarian faith spread much faster yet. That district was then under the rule of the Sultan, who allowed much greater religious freedom than did either Catholics or orthodox Protestants. After his successful work at Nagyvarad, Balasz proved a most effective mission- ary in that region, spreading his faith from city to city south and west. He soon called two ministers from Tran- sylvania to assist him, and others followed them. They held the usual public debates, and their progress through the country was a triumphal procession. They came at length to have in the two counties of Temes and Baranya alone more than sixty churches, many of them with schools, of which the chief were at Temesvar, the seat of the Turkish government, and at the old university city of Pecs (Fiinf- kirchen), which also had a famous school and became an ac- tive missionary center for the region. Government officials joined the movement and assisted it with their wealth; and after King John’s death, the press which he had given the Unitarians at Gyulafehervar was brought here, and through the circulation of Unitarian books many of the Calvinist ministers of the county were converted. After a few years these churches became separated from those in Transyl- vania, and had their own “Bishop of Lower Hungary,” Paul Karadi, whose seat was at Temesvar. Not all went smoothly, however. Tas PY q y vt DIVISION V UNITARIANISM IN ENGLAND ‘ 7) CHAPTER XXVII THE PIONEERS OF UNITARIANISM IN ENGLAND, TO 1644 Thus far the path of our history has never been long or far out of sight of the stake, the block, or the prison; and the impression that remains most vivid with us out of the story of Unitarianism on the Continent is that of the per- secutions it had to suffer. It will be a relief, therefore, to enter upon a further stage of our journey from which persecution is largely absent. In England, it is true, as we shall soon see, a few in the first century of the Reforma- tion were put to death, and more were imprisoned, for denying the doctrine of the Trinity; but long before Uni- tarianism began to be an organized movement there, capital punishment, or even imprisonment, for heresy had ceased in England, and by comparison with what their brethren on the continent had suffered, the civil oppressions that English Unitarians had to endure can be called hardly more than inconveniences. The permanent history of Christianity in England began when Augustine, “the Apostle of the Anglo-Saxons,” was sent from Rome at the end of the sixth century as mission- ary. The English were for centuries devotedly faithful to the Church of Rome, and perhaps nowhere had it had a more splendid history than there, as its glorious cathedrals, and the monasteries and abbeys still beautiful in their ruins, bear witness. Long before the Reformation, however, Eng- 285 286 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE lish kings had become more or less restive under the exac- tions of the Pope, and his claims of authority over England; while at the same time the people at large were growing impatient of the great wealth and increasing corruption of the monks and priests, and hungry for pure religion. In the fourteenth century, in the time of John Wyclif, one of the “Reformers before the Reformation,” an earnest effort was made to get the abuses of the Church reformed ; and the Bible was translated into English and circulated in manuscript, so that those that were able to do so might read it for themselves, instead of having to depend for their religious teaching wholly upon the priests. For the time nothing permanent seemed to come of it; but a century and a half later, when Henry VIII, for reasons of his own, threw off his allegiance to the Pope, and had himself made the head of the Church of England, he found large sup- port from his people. The English Reformation thus begun was mostly a po- litical affair, and for some time no important changes were made in the doctrines or ceremonies of the Church. On the contrary, those that held the doctrines of Luther were severely persecuted. The Bible and the three ancient creeds were taken as authority; and the king authorized the pub- lication of the English Bible, which was ordered to be set up in all the parish churches, so that all might have a chance to read it. A hundred thousand copies of it were in circulation within about twenty years, and the reading of it not only helped on the Reformation among the people, but eventually, as we shall see, paved the way for further reform of doctrine. Reformation of the Catholic doctrines went slowly on under the leadership of the clergy, until at length, under Edward VI, who was a convinced Protes- tant, a new Prayer Book was adopted, and new Articles . PIONEERS IN ENGLAND 287 of Religion, and so the Church of England became definitely established in its own ways. Queen Mary tried her best to restore the Catholic religion, and to this end put many Protestants to death, while many more fled to Geneva, where they came under the influence of Calvin; but her reign was short. Upon her death the Protestants returned in full force, and under Elizabeth the Reformation was fully or- ganized, with a doctrine which was a compromise between Calvin and Luther, and a form of worship and ceremonies which were a compromise between Catholic and Protestant. Many of the Protestants, however, thought that the Ref- ormation ought to be carried much further, so as to purify the Church of all traces of Romanism in doctrines, govern- ment, ceremonies, and forms of worship. These came to be known as the Puritans, and for a century or more they formed the most vital element in English religious life. In Elizabeth’s time they developed in two different direc- tions. The one of these was taken by those who despaired of any satisfactory reform in the Church of England, and therefore withdrew from it entirely. These became known as Separatists. Some of them remained in England, and, despite persecution, multiplied and at length became power- ful; others fled to Holland, and thence in 1620 to New Eng- land, as the Pilgrim Fathers. The other party, the Puri- tans proper, although they disapproved of many things in the Church of England, tried to stay within it, hoping to be able to bring about the reforms they desired. They ob- jected to government of the Church by a superior order of bishops, preferring a Presbyterian form of government; and they so much disapproved of liturgy that they would not use it in worship. Hence when Elizabeth, in order to secure uniform worship in all the English churches, tried to enforce an Act of Uniformity (1559), the Puritans be- 288 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE gan to worship in separate meetings of their own, and even- tually to form their own separate organizations. Many were the attempts to hold the Protestants of Eng- land together by force in one national Church, with one government and one form of worship. Elizabeth, James I, and Charles I severely persecuted those who refused to con- form. Then came a reaction: the Puritans gained con- trol of Parliament, and for a short time the established religion of England was Presbyterian. Then, under Crom- well, control passed into the hands of the Independents, until at length under Charles II the Episcopal Church was again established, and in 1662 was passed the Act of Uniformity, requiring that all congregations conform to the prescribed form of worship, and that all ministers be ordained by bishops. This was the beginning of that deep division of English Protestantism into Anglicans and Non- conformists which has continued to this day; for out of the 9,000 clergy in the Church of England, some 2,500 refused to conform, and were therefore compelled to leave their pulpits and give up their livings. They were for the most part the ablest and most earnest of the whole clergy. Additional acts of Parliament were soon passed to oppress the Nonconformists yet more severely, and their lot was a most unhappy one until 1689, when the passage of the Toleration Act permitted them again on certain conditions to meet together for public worship under their own forms. During all this period since the rise of the Puritans, questions of doctrine had been little attended to; but while the Puritans still remained strict Calvinists, the Church of England had softened down its Calvinism toward that Arminianism which we have already met * among the Remonstrants in Holland. Not heresy in points of doc- 1See page 200. PIONEERS IN ENGLAND 289 trine, but nonconformity in service of worship, was re- garded as the great offense, and was most often punished under the laws. It was out of such conditions in the religious life of Eng- land, disturbed not only by the hostility between Protes- tants and Catholics, but by controversies scarcely less bit- ter among the Protestants themselves over the forms of worship or of church organization and government, that English Unitarians arose. The movement began, as in other countries, with its little army of martyrs, for the act for the burning of heretics was enforced until 1612.* Even after that Unitarianism was lable to legal prosecu- tion during many generations; for deniers of the Trinity, as well as Catholics, were expressly excluded from the bene- fits of the Toleration Act; while the Blasphemy Act of 1698 was especially aimed at Antitrinitarians, punishing their offense with civil disability and, if repeated, with im- prisonment. ‘They were not relieved of this until 1813. In a country where the Established Church controls nearly all the social prestige, and where dissent is widely regarded as almost a badge of social inferiority, Unitarians have throughout had to bear not only their share of the burdens that fall to all Dissenters, but the additional one of being excluded by both Anglicans and Dissenters as_ heretics. Their oppressions and burdens are of course not for a mo- ment to be compared with those suffered by their brethren of like faith in Poland and Transylvania; yet they have been no light thing, and the bearing of them has developed devotion and heroism of a fine and sturdy type. The Unitarian movement in England did not spring from any single source. We may discover at least four fairly distinct streams of influence that flowed together in it before 1The act dated from 1401, and was not repealed until 1677. 290 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the end of the seventeenth century. ‘These are: first, the influence of the Bible itself ; second, the influence of Italians and other foreign thinkers at the Strangers’ Church in Lon- don; third, Anabaptist influences; and fourth, the influence of Socinianism. Let us examine each of these in turn. Wyclif’s manuscript translations of the Bible had been widely circulated from about 1380 on, and it is said that some of his followers were tinged with Antitrinitarianism ; but this Bible had to be read in secret, as did Tyndale’s first printed New Testament of 1525, for fear of the law. In 1535, however, the English Bible began to be accessible to all, and many were reading it for the first time. First and last the influence of this book, when read in comparison with the creeds, has underlain all others leading men to reject the doctrine of the Trinity. Some of the most notable of the early English Unitarians declared they had never read nor heard the Unitarian doctrine, but had come to it solely through reading their Bibles. This influence was likely to be the more powerful, since the Articles of Religion of the Church of England themselves expressly declared that the Scriptures contain all things necessary for salvation, and that one need not believe anything not supported by them. The second influence was found in the Strangers’ Church. In the first generation of the Reformation many Prot- estants from Catholic countries on the continent fled to Protestant England for freedom of worship and safety from persecution. There were Italians, Spaniards, Dutch, French, and others. Since they could not understand or speak English, they could neither worship in the English churches nor be overseen by the English bishops. Hence a Church of the Strangers (1. e., foreigners) was chartered in London in 1550 to be under the oversight of a superintend- ent of its own, subject to the Bishop of London. It had PIONEERS IN ENGLAND 291 at one time 5,000 members, and branches in eleven provin- cial towns. Since these churches received free spirits from all quarters, and since on account of their foreign tongues they could not be closely watched, they might easily become infested with heresy. To the church in London came Ochino,' not yet an Antitrinitarian, but headed in that direc- tion; Giacomo Aconzio,” who was denied the communion on account of his alleged Arianism; Cassiodora de Reyna, a professed follower of Servetus, and minister to a Spanish congregation of the church for five years; Lelius Socinus,? and doubtless others less known to fame. Discussion of doctrines during the first generation of Protestant thinking may very well have been as free here as it was in the similar Italian church at Geneva‘ at about the same time; and though it does not seem very likely that this church of for- eigners had wide influence upon the beliefs of Englishmen, it is known that several of those that were punished for some form of Antitrinitarianism had been connected with it. A more important influence was that of the Anabaptists, whose connection with antitrinitarian thought we have often noted in earlier chapters. In 1535 many of them fled to England to escape a severe persecution which had broken out against them in Holland, in which one of their number had been cruelly put to death. They were received with tolerance, and soon spread through the kingdom, especially in the eastern counties, actively spreading their peculiar doctrines as they went. Their theology was not settled, but they took only the Bible for their authority; and upon this some of them built extravagant and fantastic doctrines, 1See pages 71-72, 101, 111-114. 2See page 293. 3 See pages 114-116. 4See pages 101, 102. 5 See chapters vii, xv, xxi. 292 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE while some of them revived old heresies as to the Trinity or the person of Christ, or invented new ones of their own. Before many years their teachings began to attract the attention of the authorities, and for being Anabaptists twenty-eight of them were burnt under Henry VIII, and many more under Edward VI. Just what their heresies were does not clearly appear, for they were more or less vague and confused in their thinking, and their doctrines have doubtless been misunderstood or misrepresented by their persecutors who tell us of them; but there was prob- ably more or less Arianism or Antitrinitarianism mixed up with them, for we know that Arian and Anabaptist were often used as synonymous terms in the sixteenth century. Seeing that they were of a humble class of people, and that there was much about them to create prejudice in the public mind, it does not seem likely that they had a very important influence in preparing the ground for Unitarianism in the quarters in which it finally took permanent root. Some of these humble Christians, though we know little of them beyond their martyrdom, deserve to be mentioned and remembered by us for what they suffered as the first rude pioneers of our faith in England. Passing by the Rev. John Assheton of Lincolnshire, who was the first English Protestant known to have been called to account for deny- ing the Trinity and the deity of Christ, but who in order to escape the stake confessed his crime and recanted his “er- rors, heresies, and damned opinions” in 1548, we find our first actual martyr in England in 1551, at a time when there was much alarm in church circles over the rapid spread of “Arianism,” and strict measures seemed necessary to re- press it. Dr. George van Parris, a surgeon who had come from Mainz to London to practice his profession among the Dutch there, and was highly praised for his godly life, was PIONEERS IN ENGLAND 293 excommunicated from the Dutch branch of the Strangers’ Church for declaring that Christ was not very God, and was burnt at Smithfield in 1551. He was apparently an Arian. In Queen Mary’s time, while a number accused of Antitrinitarianism saved their lives by recanting, one Patrick Packingham, a dealer in hides, was burnt at Ux- bridge in 1555, and others were imprisoned. Even in prison our heretics could not refrain from discussing the disputed doctrines with their orthodox fellow-prisoners; and when reason fell short, other forms of argument were used, as ap- pears from the quaint and impassioned Apology of John Philpot: written for spittyng on an Arian, by a reverend Archdeacon of Winchester, whom Mary had imprisoned for his Protestantism, and later sent to the stake. When Elizabeth came to the throne, the law for burning heretics was abolished, and she was so much inclined to broad toleration in religious beliefs that she accepted Aconzio’s dedication to her of a book which urged that the necessary beliefs should be reduced to the fewest and simplest.t But the Anabaptists kept coming into the country too fast, and heresy gained ground so rapidly that the fires had to be lighted again. In 1575 a whole little congregation of Flemish Anabaptists while holding a secret meeting in London were arrested and imprisoned for a heresy with re- 1 Aconzio was an Italian, a lawyer by profession, who had also de- voted himself to military engineering. Becoming Protestant in faith he fled from Italy, came to England, and was long in Elizabeth’s service constructing fortifications. He was the most distinguished member of the Strangers’ Church, but was excommunicated from it for his views, and a little later, in 1565, published his Stratagems of Satan, which was published in five different languages and in print for more than a century, and had a wide and powerful influence throughout Europe in encouraging liberal beliefs and a tolerant spirit. Whether or not he believed in the Trinity, he at least did not think it an essen- tial doctrine. 294 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE gard to the birth of Christ, and were threatened with death. Most were banished, a few recanted, and one died in prison, while Jan Peters and Hendrik Terwoort were burnt at Smithfield. In 1579 Matthew Hamont, a ploughwright, was burned at Norwich for denying the deity of Christ; as were also John Lewes in 1588, Peter Cole, a tanner, in 1587, and the Rev. Francis Ket in-1589. James I, indeed, deemed it better policy to let heretics silently waste away in prison than to give them public execution, and no doubt many came to their end thus whose names remain unknown. It deserves mention, however, that the last two persons put to death in England for heresy were Antitrinitarians, Bartholomew Legate burnt at Smithfield (his brother Thomas also died in prison), and Edward Wightman burnt at Lichfield, both under King James in 1612. When already at the stake Legate was offered pardon if he would recant, but he re- mained stedfast. Wightman, feeling the pain of the fire, recanted and was set free, but later refused to confirm his act and was burnt. The law under which these things were done remained nominally in force until 1676; and in Scot- land as late as 1697 a young student of eighteen, Thomas Aikenhead, was hanged at Edinburgh charged with deny- ing the Trinity. But one more victim may be mentioned, > who was condemned to death a nameless Spanish ‘Arian,’ at about this time, but wasted away in prison at Newgate. » Thus even in England at least ten Protestants were put to death for some form of Unitarianism, and there is no telling how many more died in prison. All or nearly all of these got their heresy from Anabaptist sources; and many others who suffered on the general charge of being Anabaptists may have held similar views. Of course, it is not to be supposed that these martyrs held what is known as Unitarianism to-day; for many of their views would no PIONEERS IN ENGLAND 295 doubt seem to us very extraordinary. The noteworthy thing is that they were all reaching out after some views of the nature of God, and the nature and work of Christ, which should satisfy them better than the teachings of the creeds. They were therefore true pioneers of Unitarian- ism. But they were for the most part isolated from one another, they formed no concerted movement, and they were so mercilessly persecuted out of existence that they do not seem to have left behind them any great influence upon the Unitarian movement that later established itself in England. Beyond doubt the widest and deepest influence, there- fore, of the four that were mentioned above, was that of Socinianism, which became active in England from early in the seventeenth century. It is likely that this was first introduced into England through Socinian books, many of which had by this time been published in Holland; but both before and after their exile from Poland occasional Socinian scholars kept coming to England and making the acquaintance of scholars and churchmen there. At a later time also these influences were reénforced by many English- men who went to Dutch universities to study, and there came into contact either with Socinians or with Socinian thought among the Remonstrants. In these ways Socinian- ism kept exercising a steady influence upon English relig- ious thought until well into the eighteenth century, by which time English Unitarians had long been exerting an independ- ent influence of their own. This influence was shown in par- ticular in three different ways: the acceptance of the Socin- ian spirit of tolerance of difference in belief (which led to the Latitudinarian movement in the Church of England), the application of the Socinian test of reason to religious doctrines, and the adoption of Socinian doctrines as to God, 296 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Christ, or the atonement. The name Socinian was loosely applied to all three of these tendencies, so that many were called Socinians for one or other of the first two reasons who never accepted the Socinian system of doctrine. Wide public attention in England was first drawn to So- cinianism (as had perhaps been intended) by the dedica- tion of the first Latin edition of the Racovian Catechism * (1609) to King James I. His majesty evidently did not much appreciate the compliment, for the work was burnt by royal command five years later. It may indeed have tended to rouse his anger against Legate and Wightman. James was a Scotch Calvinist born and bred, and deemed himself no mean theologian; for when Vorst’s book On God and His Attributes was being imported from Holland, he not only had it burnt at the two universities and at Lon- don in 1611 (the same year in which the “King James Version” of the Bible was published), but he wrote a book himself to confute it, calling Vorst a monster and a blas- phemer, and using his influence to get Vorst dismissed from his chair at the university. The flames, however, were unable to keep Socinian books from coming into the coun- try more and more; for before the middle of the century Socinian commentaries, catechisms, and doctrinal and con- troversial writings in Latin for the use of scholars, were be- ing printed in great numbers in Holland, and a few were printed even in England. A synod of the Church of Eng- land finally took notice of all this, and in 1640 adopted measures to check “tthe damnable and cursed heresy of So- cinianism,” prohibiting all but the higher clergy and stu- dents in divinity from having or reading Socinian books (implying that they had already come into common circu- 1See page 159. 2See page 197. PIONEERS IN ENGLAND 297 lation), yet thus at the same time leaving the door as wide open as any reasonable Socinian could have asked. Never- theless it was still declared in 1672 that one could buy Socinian books as readily as the Bible. A few Socinians also came in person. Adam Franck was discovered by Archbishop Laud in 1639 when, doubtless as a Socinian missionary, he was trying to make converts among the students at Cambridge. Wiszowaty+ came to England as a traveling missionary early in life, and met several distinguished men. At least four members of the distinguished Socinian family Crellius * visited England, of whom Paul studied at Cambridge, while Samuel in repeated visits formed an intimate friendship with the Earl of Shaftesbury, and with Archbishop Tillotson, who publicly spoke in high appreciation of the Socinians, and was un- fairly charged with being one himself. Several Unitarians also came from Transylvania, while Paul Best, who had traveled from England thither and to Poland, had debated with the Unitarians in Transylvania and been converted to their views, had studied Unitarian theology in Germany for some years, and had finally returned to England full of mis- sionary spirit, was condemned to death by Parliament in 1645 for denying the Trinity, though the sentence was never executed and he was released after being two or three years in prison. Many more examples might be given to show how wide and deep the spread of Socinian influence in England was coming to be. At the time of which we speak it was not yet an organized movement—the laws stood in the way of that; but it was a ferment everywhere present. The or- thodox writers realized this and wrote book after book full 1 See page 187. 2 See page 190. 298 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE of warning. One writer enumerated 180 different flagrant heresies that had come from independent study of the Scrip- tures without the restraint of the creeds, and among these the Socinian teachings are most prominent. Another says Socinianism is corrupting the very vitals of church and state, which are much endangered by it. A third wrote three volumes to describe the gangrene that was infecting the nation. and clared to be “blasphemous, erroneous, and scandalous,’ all copies that could be found were seized and burnt. Yet the following year an English translation was brought out.? At about the same time Bidle reprinted his earlier tracts and published an English translation of a life of Socinus and of two little Socinian tracts. These, however, were soon quite overshadowed by a new work of his own, A T'wo- fold Catechism * (1654), the second part being a brief Cate- chism for children. Bidle was by now well acquainted with the works of Socinus, but although he took many questions and answers from the Racovian Catechism, he was not wholly satisfied with it. In this book, therefore, he aimed to re- store the pure teaching of Christianity by giving answers entirely in the very words of Scripture, whose divine author- ity he accepted. This little book covered not only the doc- iThis is sometimes confused with the burning of the first Latin edi- tion in 1614. See page 296. 2This translation is sometimes attributed to Bidle, but this is doubt- ful. It purported to have been printed in Holland. Two years after Bidle’s death this work was translated into Latin for circulation on the Continent by Nathaniel Stuckey, a lad of fifteen who had been a member of his congregation and was warmly attached to him. The boy died at sixteen, and the next year his mother under- took charge of the education of two of the children of Christopher Crellius, a distinguished Polish Socinian in exile. This indicates close relations between Bidle’s followers and the Socinians on the continent. It was the two sons of one of these children that emigrated to America. See page 190. JOHN BIDLE 305 trine of the Trinity as his first tracts had done, but all the doctrines of Christianity, and it made much bolder attacks upon the orthodox doctrines than he had made before, and by sharp contrasts it showed how clearly they contradicted the words of the Scripture. The Catechism roused a greater storm than ever. It went over seas, and circulated widely in Holland, where it seems to have been translated into Dutch, and was re- garded as the most dangerous form of ‘Socinianism yet at- tempted. One of the Dutch theologians, who had already refuted the Racovian Catechism in a book five times its size, now came forward again to defend the orthodox doc- > which seemed to trine against Bidle’s ‘‘Socinian Atheism,’ be creeping into the country so fast; and in another large volume he took up and answered its teachings in great detail. Another took the English government to task for allowing Socinianism to spread so far. This criticism stung the English. The Council of State therefore re- quested the famous Dr. Owen of Oxford, who had lately an- swered the Racovian Catechism, to answer this one also. How serious a task he took it to be may be judged from the fact that his answer filled nearly 700 large and closely printed pages. Bidle was now attacked from many a pul- pit, and after having been at liberty for nearly three years he was brought before Parliament and charged with being the author of a book full of scandalous teaching. All copies of his book that could be found were ordered to be burnt, and he himself was placed in the closest confine- ment, and denied writing materials and any visitors. The prospect was that when his case came to trial he would be condemned to death; but after a few months Parliament was dissolved, and Bidle was set free before his case was called. 306 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE If one supposes that Bidle, warned by the danger he had so fortunately and unexpectedly escaped, now sought to avoid further trouble by preserving henceforth a discreet silence, he little understands the nature of John Bidle; for though he was the mildest and gentlest of men, he had a full measure of the excellent British virtue of obstinacy in a good cause. As soon as he was released from prison, instead of avoiding his enemies by leaving London, he re- mained right there, and went back to preaching precisely as he had done before. The orthodox were determined to put him to silence. His teaching had won a good many ad- herents in a Baptist congregation, whose pastor being much disturbed over the matter therefore challenged Bidle to a public debate. After declining for a time, Bidle at length consented, and when it was asked at the beginning of the debate whether any one present denied that Christ was God, he replied that he did. Even before the debate was con- cluded he found himself arrested and lodged in prison, to be tried for his life for this heresy, and at first he was not even allowed legal counsel. His trial aroused great public interest. The Presbyterians attended it, and presented pe- titions against him, while the Baptists appealed in his be- half, and printed various things in his favor. Cromwell, as head of the government, being unwilling wholly to of- fend either party, at length (1655) cut the knot by banish- ing Bidle for life to the Scilly Islands, though he after- wards showed where his sympathies lay by granting him a pension of a hundred crowns a year. Bidle was now at least out of danger, and occupied him- self with renewed study of the Bible; but after something over two years his friends at last succeeded in getting him set at liberty. He at once returned to London and began JOHN BIDLE 307 preaching again, though after a few months a change in the government led him reluctantly to retire for safety into the country, to return once more to London as soon as danger seemed past. Charles II now came to the throne, however, and a new Act of Uniformity was passed, making it a crime to hold worship except under the forms of the Church of England. Bidle therefore held his meetings in private; but they were soon spied out, and he and his friends were all dragged away to prison. He was fined what was then the large sum of one hundred pounds, and was sen- tenced to lie in prison until it should be paid. The prison was so foul and the confinement so close that in a month he fell dangerously ill; and although he was at length al- lowed to be removed to a better place, he died two days later, September 22, 1662, at the early age of forty-seven. He had, indeed, not expected to survive another imprison- ment, and had been heard to say that ‘the work was done.’ John Bidle was a man of the most exalted personal char- acter, devout, reverent, and of the highest ideals of per- sonal religion and private life; firm for the truth, as we have seen, self-forgetting, devoted to the sick and the poor. But it is not these qualities, nor even the many persecutions that he suffered, that make him important in the history of Unitarianism; it is the fact that he did so much to stir people up to examine the doctrine of the Trinity, and hence to disbelieve it. He knew his Bible from cover to cover, and he relied fully upon it for his authority; but when he came to interpret it, he looked not to tradition but to reason for his guidance. In this he was like the Socinians; and like them he held that though Christ was not God, yet he was divine, and was to be worshiped. In two notable respects, however, he differed from them; for he held to a kind of 308 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE “scriptural Trinity” of three divine persons, though deny- ing that the three are equal or make one God; and he held that the Holy Spirit is a person, though not God. Bidle had never sought to found a new sect, and the little congregation of his friends had slight chance of holding together long after his death. One John Knowles, indeed, who had fallen under Bidle’s influence long before, and is said to have preached Arianism at Chester as early as 1650, is thought to have succeeded him for a while; but he did not long escape prison, and then the congregation probably scattered. The Rev. Thomas Emlyn also preached to a Unitarian congregation in London for a few years early in the eighteenth century;+ and a generation later a meeting- house was built for an Arian Baptist preacher in Southwark who occupied it for more than two years. Save for these isolated instances, there was no organized Unitarian move- ment in England for more than a century after Bidle’s death. Bidle, indeed, like many before him in England, might have remained but another sporadic prophet of Unitarianism, had not his influence been continued in another way by the printing press, and through the efforts of one of his dis- ciples, Thomas Firmin, of whom we have now to speak. Firmin was born at Ipswich in 1632 of a family in the Puri- tan wing of the Church of England. In early manhood he came up to London to engage in business life, and here he soon fell under the influence of John Goodwin,? an Arminian minister who converted him from his Calvinism. It was at just this time that Bidle was preaching in London. Firmin 1 See page 331. 2 Goodwin had lately translated Aconzio’s Stratagems of Satan into English. See page 293. JOHN BIDLE 809 made his acquaintance, became his devoted friend, and ac- cepted his beliefs. He also supported him for a time at his own expense, and helped to secure from Cromwell a pension for him in exile. Firmin was one of the leading philanthropists of his age. He became wealthy as a manufacturer and dealer in cloth, but Bidle’s devotion to them roused his interest in the poor and unfortunate. When the Socinian exiles from Poland appealed to English sympathizers for relief in their dis- tress,’ it was Firmin that raised a fund for them by private subscriptions from his friends, and by collections which his influence caused to be taken up in the churches. He pro- cured similar aid for the orthodox Protestants of Poland when their turn came to suffer in 1681, for Huguenot refu- gees from France in the same year, .and for Protestant refugees from Ireland under the oppressions of James II a few years later. He did much for sufferers by the great plague in 1665, and by the great fire in London the following year; established a warehouse where coal and grain were sold to the poor at cost, and set up factories where many hundreds of them when out of work might earn their living by making linen or woollen cloth; and besides giving gener- ously for poor relief out of his own purse, he was given very large sums by others who trusted him so fully that they never asked for an accounting. Moreover, he was a pio- neer in scientific charity, for, far ahead of his time, he de- vised a scheme for systematic employment of the poor, and used to investigate their needs by visiting in their homes. Finally, he took an active part in the reform of prisons, in behalf of those imprisoned for debt, in the work of hospitals, and in the reform of public manners. In all these ways he 1See page 179. 310 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE was the model for many a public-spirited Unitarian in later generations, who has like him been inspired to good works by the preaching and example of his minister. It was Firmin’s especial services to the cause of Unitari- anism, however, that bring him into this history. Although he attended Bidle’s services as long as they lasted, he never withdrew from the Church of England, and until his death in 1697 he maintained with Archbishop Tillotson and with most of the prominent clergy an intimate friendship, which was never broken despite his known difference from them in matters of belief. As a convinced Unitarian, however, he sought every means to spread Unitarian teachings. He is said to have had an important Polish Socinian work trans- lated and published in English not long after Bidle’s death, and to have assisted later on in bringing out a work by a liberal Anglican clergyman leading to the view that the English Church should be made so broad that a Socinian might join it. He also carried on the influence of Bidle in another way, and thus kindled a fire which has never since gone out. In 1687 he got the Rev. Stephen Nye, a clergy- man holding Unitarian beliefs, to prepare A Brief History of the Unitarians, called also Socinians. This led to con- troversy, and other tracts followed. These made so many converts that in 1691 Firmin, at his own expense, had these and others collected into a volume of Unitarian tracts, with Bidle’s first three tracts reprinted and standing at the head. Other tracts were collected later, many or most of them written by clergymen in the Established Church, until at length there were five volumes of them, the last two published after Firmin’s death. These writings stirred up the cele- brated Trinitarian Controversy in the Church of England, 1 Respectively, John Crellius’s Two Books touching One God the Father, 1665; and Dr. Arthur Bury’s The Naked Gospel, 1690. JOHN BIDLE 311 of which we shall speak in the next chapter, and they made sure that the truth to which Bidle had borne such brave wit- ness did not fall to the ground. Unitarian beliefs thus came to be widely held in both pulpit and pew in the Church of England, and that with little concealment; so that for a time it was felt that the struggle for freedom of belief in the Church was won. No one had done more to bring about this result than Thomas Firmin. The point has now been reached where we can begin to trace two fairly distinct streams of Unitarian thought, one in the Church of England, the other among the Dissenters, which at length united about the beginning of the nineteenth century in a separately organized Unitarian movement. We shall follow these two streams in the next two chapters. CHAPTER XXIX UNITARIANISM SPREADS IN THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND: THE TRINITARIAN CON- TROVERSY, 1687-1750 As we have seen in the previous chapter, the work of Bidle for the spread of Unitarianism seemed for the most part to end with his life; for he left no organized movement, and no preacher long continued his public services. In fact, his writings, and those of one or two Unitarians in his pe- riod, though some of them called forth elaborate answers, appear to have made no particular impression on the gen- eral religious thought of England. All that he had said and written and suffered might yet have come to naught had it not been more and more reénforced by Socinian influences which kept coming over in a constant stream from Holland. The canon of the Church adopted in 1640 had forbidden all >1 and, while but the clergy to have or read Socinian books; it was never enforced even as regards the laity, the clergy would seem to have made full use of the leave thus allowed them. The Socinian books imported were mostly in Latin, and hence affected only scholars; but the result upon the clergy was that before the end of the seventeenth century large numbers of these, including some of the most influen- tial, had in one respect or another become decidedly influ- enced by Socinianism. Moreover, during the greater part of the seventeenth cen- 1 See page 296. 312 TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSY 313 tury religious intercourse was very frequent between Eng- land and Holland. Many Englishmen went to Dutch universities to study, especially the Nonconformist candi- dates for the ministry, who were debarred from the English universities ; and they returned some of them outright Socin- lans, some Arians, some with the Arminian theology of the Remonstrants, and all of them more given to the use of reason in religion, and more tolerant in spirit. Whether they came back holding Socinian doctrines, or favoring a more reasonable interpretation of Christianity, which Socin- ians advocated, or merely mellowed by the Socinian spirit of religious toleration, they were likely sooner or later to be accused by their conservative brethren of being Socinians ; and in the controversies of the time the terms Arminian and Socinian were used as meaning much the same thing. The result of this influence is seen in some of those most eminent in the religious life of England in the seventeenth century. Archbishop Tillotson has already been men- tioned.t Chillingworth, the ablest reasoner in the Church of England, recognized reason as supreme, and long ob- jected to the Athanasian Creed. Richard Baxter, the greatest of the Nonconformists, held only the Ten Com- mandments, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Apostles’ Creed as essential, though both Socinians and Catholics could have met these conditions. Cromwell strongly upheld religious toleration, and the Independents in general favored it. Milton was at first an Arminian, but at his death he left a manuscript (On Christian Doctrine, not discovered and pub- lished until 1825, and afterwards reprinted in part by the Unitarians as a tract) which shows that he had become a Unitarian in belief; so did Sir Isaac Newton; so, for a time, was William Penn, who wrote a tract to show the Trinity’s 1 See page 297. 314 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Sandy Foundation Shaken, and was sent to the Tower for it; while the earlier teaching of the Society of Friends in general omits the doctrine of the Trinity. None of these ever joined a Unitarian movement—in fact, there was as yet none for them to join—but they were all more or less Socin- ian either in belief, in principle, or in spirit, and they were all reproached by the more orthodox as being Socinians unconfessed. Perhaps the most widespread of these various Socinian influences was shown in the direction of broad toleration of difference of opinion in religion, and in the tendency to reduce the essentials of Christianity to the very fewest and most important things—a tendency which presently came to be known as Latitudinarianism. Such a principle had already been urged in Bidle’s time, in an English transla- tion of Aconzio’s Stratagems of Satan,‘ which would have left the door of the Church so wide that men of all views might enter it. The Athanasian Creed, however, which they were bound to use in public worship thirteen times a year, kept the clergy constantly in mind of the doctrine of the Trinity, and of their obligation to believe it in its most extreme and objectionable form. Many who still believed in some sort of Trinity were far from sure they believed in all the statements of this Creed, and every use of it gave their consciences a twinge. Even Archbishop Tillotson said, “‘I wish we were well rid of it.” Hence a movement arose which found much favor, urging that conditions of membership in the Church be made much simpler. In 1675 Bishop Croft cautiously put forth, with- out his name, a book called The Naked Truth, urging that the Apostles’ Creed, which had sufficed for the early Church, ought to be the only confession of faith required now; that 1 See page 293. TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSY 315 longer creeds do nothing but harm; and that it is far better to follow the simple teaching of the Scriptures than the philosophy of the Fathers. Although this book was at- tacked by several writers, its views were defended by several others, and its message spread. At length after the pas- sage of the Toleration Act in 1689, legalizing the worship of Dissenters, the king appointed a commission to revise the Book of Common Prayer. Liberal influences were strong, and it was proposed to omit the Athanasian Creed, or else to make the use of it optional, and to omit various objec- tionable phrases in the lturgy; but unfortunately all changes were defeated by the conservatives.’ On the doctrinal side Socinian influences from Holland gave rise to a yet greater controversy. The writings of Bidle, as we have seen, though attacked enough while he lived, appear not to have made any deep or general impres- sion, and after his death public controversy about the Trin- ity ceased. Even in 1685, when the Rev. George Bull (later Bishop Bull), who had himself been charged with being a Socinian, sought to clear himself from suspicion of heresy, and published his elaborate Defence of the Nicene Faith, he made no reference to English writers, but was aiming only at some Socinian writings from Holland which had made much impression in England. He sought to prove that even the early Fathers of the Church held the belief expressed in the Nicene Creed, though he admitted that they made Christ 1A century later, however, when the Episcopal Church in America was revising the English Prayer Book for its own use, it adopted these changes, and omitted the Athanasian Creed. The Nicene Creed also was at first omitted, but later was restored, as otherwise no English bishop would consent to consecrate the American bishops. In the Episcopal Church of Ireland the Athanasian Creed may be used in public worship only by special permission, which has seldom been sought. 316 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE subordinate to the Father, which was the main point for which the early Socinians had contended.t Moreover, he wrote in Latin, and hence reached only the learned. Soon afterwards, however, a very active discussion of both sides of the question arose within the Church of England itself, which aroused keen interest in a much larger public, and continued in one form or another for a full generation.” The Trinitarian Controversy, as this is commonly called, was started in 1687 by the publication of the Brief History of the Unitarians or Socinians? already referred to.* This tract gave an account of the Unitarians and their be- liefs from the early Church down, and refuted the proof- texts usually quoted by the Trinitarians in support of their doctrine, ending with the conclusion that those holding Uni- tarian views of the Trinity ought not to be prosecuted for them, but should be received in the Church as brethren. This tract was soon followed by another, Brief Notes on the Creed of St. Athanasius, which took up the Creed clause by clause, laid bare its contradictions with itself, reason, and 1 See page 182. 2 How serious this controversy was may be judged from the fact that it extended, in its widest compass, from 1687 to 1734, comprised more than 300 separate writings by not fewer than 100 known writers (including several bishops and archbishops), besides many others who wrote anonymously. The whole controversy divides up into some twenty different ones, ranging round some particular writing or some minor branch of the whole question at issue. 3 Unitarians was the name preferred by Firmin and generally used by his associates who, although they were generally called Socinians by the orthodox, and did not deny that they agreed with the Socinians on many points, yet did not accept all the Socinian doctrines. By Unitarian they meant, at this period, one who holds the doctrine of the Trinity in some sense which does not imply belief in three Gods. The name was borrowed from Transylvania by way of Holland, and first appeared in English print in 1672-73. 4See page 310. TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSY 317 Scripture, and concluded that it ought not to be retained in any Christian church. These tracts were widely read and made a great stir among both clergy and laity; and seeing the doctrine of the Trinity thus attacked, one bishop or doctor after another now came forward to defend it. Some maintained, against the charge that the doctrine was unreasonable or self- contradictory, that it ought to be reverently accepted on faith as a sacred mystery, above human comprehension; to which was replied that this was precisely the argument which Roman Catholics had urged in behalf of some of their own most objectionable doctrines, and which Protestants had steadily refused to admit as sound. Some sought to prove that the doctrine was supported by Scripture; but in this they were all too easily confuted by the Unitarian writers. Others, appealing to antiquity, tried to show that this had been the teaching of the Christian Church from the begin- ning; but the Unitarians, while not unwilling to admit that belief in some sort of Trinity was at least consistent with the Bible, and was supported by the early Fathers of the Church, insisted that it was far from being the kind of Trinity so carefully defined in the Athanasian Creed. The crucial question in the controversy was as to what is meant by one God in three persons. When the Unitarians urged that this belief by its own words contradicts itself, some tried to remove the difficulty by explaining that persons means just what we usually mean by the word; but the Uni- tarians replied that this involves belief in three separate Gods. Others sought to show that persons has here a special meaning, and simply means three different modes of being or acting; but it was replied that this was the an- cient heresy of Sabellianism,’ and that Christ means some- 1See page 15, 318 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE thing more than merely God’s mode of acting. So the controversy went on, with the Unitarians ever keen to detect any flaw in the reasoning of the orthodox, and ready to press every advantage against them. The controversy ended, the acute stage of it at least, when the authorities of the Church at least seemed to accept an explanation of the Trinity to which the Unitarians could assent with good conscience. This controversy was carried on in print by published tracts, sermons, or books. Any publication on one side was promptly answered by one or several on the other. The Unitarian contributions to it kept coming out every month or so for some ten years or more. The most 1m- portant of them were written by a clergyman of the Church of England, the Rev. Stephen Nye,’ who was a friend of Firmin’s. Firmin himself paid the cost of publication, and distributed them freely as a part of his plan to spread Unitarian views within the Church. The tracts seldom bore author’s or publisher’s name, for fear of prosecution, for the law did not tolerate deniers of the Trinity; and on one occasion in this period when one William Freeke ventured directly to attack the doctrine in a Brief and Clear Confuta- tion of the Doctrine of the Trinity, Parliament condemned the book (1693) to be burnt by the common hangman as an infamous and scandalous libel, and forced the author to recant and to pay a fine of £500. Although this controversy in its time aroused the Church of England to an intense pitch of interest, it would be te- dious enough to-day to have to read through it, or even to read very much about it. Only a few of its most important events need be mentioned here. Before the controversy had fairly got under way a great stir arose in the very center 1 See page 310. TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSY 319 of churchmanship at the University of Oxford, where a book appeared entitled The Naked Gospel,’ (1690). It bore no name, but it was ere long discovered to have been written by Dr. Arthur Bury, Rector of Exeter College. It held that to be a Christian means simply to have faith in Christ, and that to require assent to speculations about his nature or the Trinity not only is useless but has done much harm. A heated controversy ensued which ended in Dr. Bury’s book being burned as impious and heretical. At this juncture Professor John Wallis of Oxford, who had won distinction in mathematics as one of the founders of modern algebra, and was looking for new worlds to conquer, turned his at- tention to the hardest problem in theology. He thought the doctrine of the Trinity could be made clear by a simple illustration from mathematics. To believe in one Ged in three equal persons seemed to him as reasonable as to believe in a cube with three equal dimensions. The length, breadth, and height are equal; yet there are not three cubes but one cube; and if the word persons is objectionable, then say three somewhats. Dr. Wallis carried on his discussion un- der the form of letters to a friend, eight of them in all; but each letter exposed some fresh point for attack and brought forth a fresh Unitarian criticism, so that before he was done Wallis had been driven in his explanation of the doctrine from the orthodoxy of Athanasius to the heresy of Sabellius. The haughty Dr. William Sherlock, soon afterwards ap- pointed Dean of St. Paul’s, now came confidently forward as champion in A Vindication of the Doctrine of the Trinity (1690), in which he undertook to demolish the arguments of the Unitarian writers and, by explaining away the con- tradictions and absurdities they had complained of, to make 1 See page 310n. 320 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the great mystery clear to the meanest understanding by an original explanation. He was well pleased with himself for having made the notion of a Trinity, as he thought, as simple as that of one God; for he held that Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are three persons as distinct as Peter, James, and John. Pamphlets in answer came thick and fast. The Unitarians were quick to attack this new ex- planation of the Trinity, and to open all eyes to the fact that it was no better than tritheism; so that in the face of this new and greater danger their opponents for a time ceased to. attack them. Some of the orthodox defended Sherlock’s view, while others tried their hand at a better explanation. These disputes, it must be remembered, were all between members of the Church of England, and they so much dis- turbed its peace that one of the bishops was moved to make an earnest plea that the whole subject be dropped. Sher- lock, thinking he had won the day, refused to keep silence, but he soon found himself fiercely attacked from a new quar- ter as a dangerous heretic himself. Dr. Robert South, famous as a great preacher and a brilliant wit, heartily disliking Dr. Sherlock, and willing to see him humbled, pub- lished some Animadversions upon Dr. Sherlock’s Book (1693), in which he riddled the Dean’s arguments, and re- peated the charge of tritheism. But in the explanation of the Trinity which he set up instead, both the Unitarians and Dr. Sherlock were quick to detect the opposite heresy of Sabellianism. Heated controversies ensued. Champions for both sides rushed into the fray with pamphlets or ser- mons, until at length the University of Oxford formally condemned the view held by Dr. Sherlock and his party as false, impious, and heretical; his friends fell away, and his opponents published an English translation of the life of TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSY 321 Valentino Gentile,’ put to death at Bern for tritheism, rec- ommending it on the title-page to Dr. Sherlock, with the implication that he deserved a like fate. To prevent a repetition of the scandal to the Church, the archbishop now got the king to issue directions for the clergy hence- forth to abstain from unaccustomed explanations of the Trinity. Thus the controversy was finally quieted. It had revealed the fact that in place of a single orthodox explana- tion of the Athanasian Creed, there were now at least six distinct explanations in the field, none of them orthodox, yet all held by men who remained undisturbed in high posi- tions in the Church. The result was on the whole pleasing to the Unitarians in the Church; for any explanation of the Trinity as meaning belief in three Gods, to which they had most objected, had now been clearly repudiated. Although they did not relish the terms used in Dr, South’s explanation, they had no mind to dispute further about mere words, feeling that they could in some sense honestly assent to the doctrine about as he had explained it. To show this, Firmin now had a new tract prepared (1697) to show The Agreement of the Unitarians with the Catholic Church and the Church of England in nearly all points, and concluded that their dif- ferences were well settled. However, to make sure that the view he had so striven for should not again be lost sight of, he proposed that distinct Unitarian congregations should now be gathered within the Church to emphasize the true unity of God in their worship, and to keep their members from explaining this again in the wrong way. Fuirmin died the following year, but this plan of his was perhaps tried for a time, since we read of Unitarian meetings with their own ministers being held in London not many years after. 1See page 106-109. 322 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Finally even Dr. Sherlock took back most of the things he had said, and came to a view which the Unitarians ap- proved. Some of the Unitarians still held out, and a tract was written to persuade them that they might now feel themselves orthodox enough for the Church; some who held orthodox views argued in another tract that they ought now to be admitted to communion; while against those that wished to have them treated as heretics the Unitarians ar- gued in a third tract that they believed practically the same as many whose orthodoxy was not questioned, in- deed, that by the standard of Scripture and the Apostles’ Creed they were the most orthodox of all. They seemed in fact to have grown heartily tired of the long controversy, and to have become willing to go part way in compromise in order to enjoy peace. Thus they became absorbed into the Church of England, and we hear no more of them or their movement. The Trinitarian controversy was over a matter of doc- trine. While it was still at its height a book appeared which brought the influence of Socinianism to bear in an- other way, by emphasizing again the importance of toler- ance in religion. This was The Reasonableness of Chris- tianity (1695), by John Locke. This famous philosopher, although he had read no Socinian books, had imbibed the Socinian spirit from liberal friends among the Remon- strants ® while he lived in Holland, and had already written epoch-making Letters on Toleration. In his new book he urged that any one admitting the messiahship of Jesus should be considered a Christian, no matter what he believed as to other doctrines. A torrent of abuse followed from orthodox writers, especially among the Dissenters, who 1The Socinians of Poland had made a similar claim. See page 161. 2See page 200. TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSY 323 were now much less liberal than the Church of England. Not only was Locke charged with being a Socinian in dis- guise, which he denied, but it was declared that such prin- ciples as his opened the way to all irreligion, and were a fertile cause of atheism. The book was in fact quite ahead of its time. Two years later a large work on The Blas- phemous Socinian Heresie was written by John Gailhard to urge Parliament to use all the rigors of the law against Socinians. It cited with approval a law lately passed by the Scottish Parliament, under which Thomas Aikenhead,! a student of but eighteen, had just been put to death (1697) for denying the Trinity—the last execution for heresy in Great Britain. The Dissenting ministers, growing reactionary, urged King William at the same time to shut the press against Unitarians, and the House of Commons urged him that all their publications be suppressed and their authors and pub- lishers fined. The consequence was that in 1698 there was passed the Blasphemy Act, providing among other things that any Christian convicted of denying the Trinity, etc., should be disqualified from holding any public office, and up- on a second offence should lose all civil rights forever, and be imprisoned for three years. This section of the act was not repealed until 1813. The Unitarians, who had been troubled about the proper explanation of the doctrine of the Trinity to which they were bound to subscribe, had now found elbow-room within the Church, and henceforth were little disturbed there. Still the Athanasian Creed would not down, nor would the scruples over having to use it in public worship. Hence it was not many years until new questions arose, mainly as to whether, or how, Christ was equal to God. Thus sprung 1See page 294. 324 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE up what is sometimes known as the Arian Movement. This began through the work of two clergymen of the Church of England, William Whiston and Samuel Clarke. Whis- ton had succeeded Sir Isaac Newton * as Professor of Math- ematics at the University of Cambridge. He was a man of great learning, sincere and outspoken to a fault, yet with his head full of eccentric notions. As a clergyman he was deeply interested in theological questions. Follow- ing up a hint from Clarke as to the Athanasian doctrine, he studied the origin of it, and by 1708 he became con- vinced by study of the early Fathers of the church that they were semi-Arian,” and that he must follow them. He held that though Christ was God, and existed before the world was made, supreme worship should be given only to the Father; and he set himself to restore in the Church the belief and worship of primitive Christianity. For two years by his writings and sermons he carried on an active propaganda for his view. He omitted from the liturgy such parts as did not suit his beliefs, and proposed that the Prayer Book be purified of Athanasian expressions. All this roused intense opposition; and the university, which did not wish to repeat Oxford’s unhappy experience of a few years before,? promptly expelled him (1710). He finally withdrew from the church and joined the General Baptists; * but to the end of his long life he never ceased to proclaim his views, and to believe that through the or- 1 Newton himself had already (1690) come to disbelieve the authority of the two strongest proof-texts for the doctrine of the Trinity; vat shrinking from being drawn into controversy he would not let his views be published while he lived. Whiston is now best remembered for his translation of Josephus. 2 See page 21. 3 See page 319. 4See page 338, n. TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSY 325 ganization of societies, composed of Christians of all denom- inations, for promoting primitive Christianity, they would at length be brought to prevail. Whiston’s eccentricities and his early expulsion from the Church kept him from having the influence he might other- wise have had, so that the real leadership of the Arian movement soon fell to Dr. Clarke. He was already the most distinguished theologian of his time, and was admir- ingly spoken of as “the great Dr. Clarke”; and it was taken for granted that he might have any advancement in the church, and would in time become an archbishop. He had already suggested to Whiston that the early Fathers were not Athanasian in belief, and soon after Whiston’s expulsion he undertook to investigate carefully the teach- ing of Scripture on the subject. In 1712 he published a book on The Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity, in which he brought together every text in the New Testament hav- ing the least bearing on the subject, some 1,250 of them in all, classified according to their teaching. From these he drew the conclusion that the Scripture doctrine is that the Father alone is the supreme God to whom supreme worship may be paid, and that Christ is subordinate to him, and is to be worshiped only as a mediator; and he intimated that the Prayer Book ought to be revised so as to correspond to this doctrine.’ Half a score of opponents were soon in the field with tracts or books against him. Though he distinctly disowned the doctrine of Arius, it was charged 2 that he was advocating sheer Arianism.” A great hue and 1 He later drew up a scheme of revisions in the Prayer Book, which were adopted late in the century by Lindsey’s Unitarian church in London, and by King’s Chapel in Boston, as we shall see hereafter. See page 351. 2The so-called Arianism of Whiston, Clarke, and others of their time differed in several important respects from that of the fourth 326 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE cry was raised in the Church, and the matter was brought before the church authorities. Clarke weakened somewhat and made a semi-retraction, so that no further action against him was taken; but he remained under a cloud of disapproval for the rest of his life. Nevertheless Dr. Clarke’s book made a deep impression on the minds and consciences of many of the clergy. They realized that whenever they subscribed to the Articles of Religion, as they were required to do when they were or- dained or were advanced to higher position in the Church, they must subscribe to what they did not wholly believe; and that whenever they conducted worship in church they must use expressions in the Prayer Book which they could no longer regard as ‘true. Hence some of them, including Dr. Clarke himself, declined further advancement where sub- scription was required; while many, knowing that their bishops more or less sympathized with them, altered the words of the liturgy, and were not disturbed for it although it was contrary to law and to the promises they had made. Clarke himself had said in his book that “every person may reasonably agree to such forms, whenever he can in any sense at all reconcile them with Scripture.” In other words, one might put upon them any sense he pleased. Many adopted this principle and subscribed with large mental reservations, defending this practice as right, and it has con- tinued more or less down to the present day. The Athanasian Creed had by now become a topic of general conversation, and a vigorous controversy therefore century (see page 17), especially since they did not regard Christ as a created being. But in theological controversy it has been the custom to prejudice the case of an opponent by giving him whenever possible the name of a discredited heresy, whether really deserved or not. At the present time (1925) in political controversy the name Bolshevik is freely applied in the same way. TRINITARIAN CONTROVERSY 327 arose over this “Arian subscription,” as it was called; in which Dr. Waterland very ably argued against Clarke and his followers that when one has subscribed he is morally bound to stick to the usual sense of the words as intended by the Church; and moreover, that the doctrine of the Trinity is of such supreme importance that it ought not to be held in any lax sense. But a much more serious danger was now threatening the Church, involving not merely one article of doctrine but, as it was felt, the very foundations of the Christian religion. Doctrinal controversies now faded away before that with Deism, and for half a century we hear little more of them. Thus the second attempt to reform the doctrine of the Church of England so as to make it more nearly like that of the Bible, came to nothing; and for the second time those who had desired a reform finally settled back comfortably and did nothing, content enough to be let alone as they were. We shall presently see how the inevitable question again came up in the time of Theophilus Lindsey,’ and led to the organization of the first permanent Unitarian church in England. Meanwhile the scene shifts from the Church of England to the Dissenting churches, where the views of Clarke had a far wider and deeper in- fluence, and led to more permanent results. 1See chapter xxxi. CHAPTER XXX UNITARIANISM SPREADS AMONG THE DIS- SENTING CHURCHES: THE ARIAN MOVEMENT, 1703-1750 The controversy over the doctrine of the Trinity, and the spread of Unitarian explanations of it, described in the last chapter, were wholly within the Church of England. At about the time that movement was dying out in the Church a similar one was beginning to arise among the Dissenting churches. As briefly told in an earlier chapter, ever since the time of Queen Elizabeth there had been many in England who did not feel that the reformation of the church had been carried far enough; and as they refused to conform to the appointed forms and rites of the Established Church they came to be known as Nonconformists. Some of these withdrew from the Church as early as 1616, and became known as Independents. Others, forming the Puri- tan party in the Church, came at length to be known as _ Presbyterians. During the Commonwealth the Nonconform- ists were in the majority, had control of the government, and had things their own way; but when the Episcopal Church was reéstablished under Charles II, an Act of Uniformity was passed (1662), forbidding any public worship except that prescribed by the Church of England. Any minister refusing to conform was required to give up his pulpit and his living. It was a tragic decision that they were required to make. It was to involve poverty, 328 THE ARIAN MOVEMENT 329 homelessness, fines, imprisonment, and even death, for many. The Nonconformists did not complain of the doc- trines required; but they conscientiously objected to using certain forms which seemed to them Catholic superstitions, and to being re-ordained by bishops. The temptation to conform was almost irresistible ; yet it was resisted by about 2,500 of the ‘ablest, most learned, and most godly ministers of England, who with great regret left the Church forever. “But we must live,” said one whose conscience was weak, and who shrank from poverty, and was about to give in. “But we must die,” replied the other, remembering the ac~ count he must give to God for an undefiled conscience. The “Nonconformist conscience” became henceforth a fixed element in the moral life of England. The Act of Uni- formity was reénforced by several others which made it unlawful for a Nonconformist to hold any municipal or gov- ernment office, and forbade ministers to hold meetings or to come within five miles of their old churches.t Under these acts 60,000 are said to have suffered punishment within the twenty-seven years durmg which the Act of Uni- formity was enforced against them; property was taken away to the value of £2,000,000; and 8,000 are said to have died in prisons. Despite all this the Nonconformists largely increased in numbers, and won great respect from the church authorities. It was out of these conscientious and heroic Nonconformists that the first Unitarian churches in England were almost entirely made up. When the Revolution came and William and Mary ascended the throne in 1688, one of the first steps taken was to pass the Toleration Act (1689), making the worship of Dissenters (as the Nonconformists now came generally 1 Respectively, the Corporation Act, the Test Act, the Conventicle Act, and the Five Mile Act. 330 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE to be called) lawful. An effort was also made to change the forms and rules of the Church to which they objected, so that they might all be included in its membership, and that England might have one great, broad church which should include practically all Protestants. High Church- > and men bitterly opposed this “scheme of comprehension,’ even the Dissenters had misgivings about it. The plan fell through, and henceforth Protestant England was to be permanently divided into two great bodies. Under the Toleration Act the Dissenting congregations grew and flourished as never before; for nearly a generation of bitter persecution had only strengthened them and united them firmly together. They now built meeting-houses all over the land and worshiped openly, and by the end of the century they counted two million members, the most numerous and wealthy body of Christians in the kingdom. The Dissenters were of three different denominations: the Presbyterians and the Independents of whom we have al- ready spoken, and the Baptists who had succeeded the earlier Anabaptists. Besides these there were the Quakers, who kept steadily aloof from the rest, and were cordially hated by them. Of all these the Presbyterians, now at the height of their power, were about two-thirds. They had gradually grown more tolerant, and their Calvinism had lost its edge. The Independents were generally stricter in their views and narrower in their spirit. Still the two bodies were much alike, and differed more in name than in fact. Neither was so broad as the Church of England; but the Baptists were on the whole the most liberal of the three. There was for a time some prospect that Dissenters gen- erally might unite into one comprehensive Dissenting body over against the Church of England. In 1690 over eighty THE ARIAN MOVEMENT 331 of the Presbyterian and Independent ministers in London drew up a plan of union, and some years later the Baptists joined them. They were known as the United Protestant Dissenters; but they did not long hold together. A doc- trinal controversy soon arose, and within four years they had drifted hopelessly apart again into separate denomina- tions. The point of difference was between extreme and moderate Calvinism. As to the Trinity they were all still orthodox; though already it might be foreseen that the Presbyterians would in the end take the side of liberty. After sketching this background we are now prepared to fill in the details of the development. The first minister among the Dissenters to attract at- tention for his disbelief in the Trinity was Thomas Emlyn. He was born the year after Bidle’s death; and though his parents attended the Church of England, they leaned to- ward the Puritan party and had him educated for the minis- try at a Dissenting academy. Conscience forbade him to conform to the Established Church, hence, after a few years he became minister of a small Presbyterian congregation at Lowestoft. Here he formed a friendship with a neighboring Congregational minister; and as it was at the period of the Trinitarian Controversy, they read and discussed together Sherlock’s Vindication’? of the doctrine. The result was that Emlyn became an Arian and his friend a Socinian. Soon afterwards he was called to Dublin as joint minister of a large Presbyterian church, which he served acceptably for eleven years. He was somewhat ill at ease over his doctrinal views, but he kept them to himself, and confined himself to practical preaching. One of his congregation, noting at length that Emlyn never preached about the Trinity, began to scent heresy. He took it upon him to ask Emlyn what 1See page 319. 332 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE he believed, whereupon the latter gave an open and honest answer, and said he was willing to resign if it were desired. The matter was laid before the congregation, and conference was had with the other ministers of the city. They decided that he should withdraw for a time. The church was unwilling to accept Emlyn’s resignation, but gave him leave of absence, and he went to London. In his absence he was violently attacked from the other pul- pits, and on his return he felt bound to set forth and defend his views in dn Humble Inquiry into the Scripture-Account of Jesus Christ} (1702). His position was much like that of Clarke: that God is supreme, so that Christ has only an inferior deity and deserves only inferior worship.” Emlyn had intended to return at once to England; but before he could do so he was prosecuted at the instance of a zealous Baptist deacon, and tried for having in his book uttered an infamous and scandalous libel against Christ. His trial was carried on with great unfairness and prejudice, and resulted in conviction (1703). Refusing to retract he was sentenced to one year’s imprisonment and a fine of £1,000, and was reminded that he was fortunate not to have been tried in Spain, where he would have been sent to the stake. Unable to pay his exorbitant fine, he lay in prison over two years, neglected of his former friends, and visited by but one of his brother ministers; but he occupied himself in writing, and in preaching on Sundays to his fellow- 1This work was reprinted at Boston, 1756, the sole Unitarian work by any European writer to be reprinted in America before the rise of Unitarianism there. 2He described himself as ‘a true scriptural Trinitarian,” but ac- cepted the name Unitarian in the sense then current (see p. 316, note 3) and wrote 4d Vindication of the Worship of the Lord Jesus Christ on Unitarian Principles (1706). He was really Arian in much the same sense as Whiston and Clarke and their followers (see p. 324, 325). THE ARIAN MOVEMENT 333 prisoners. His fine was at length reduced to £70, besides £20 more which fell to the Bishop of Armagh under the law. Emlyn was set free in 1705 and soon went to London, where he spent the rest of his life. He gathered a Dissent- ing congregation there, and for a number of years preached to them in Cutlers’ Hall without pay. Some of the orthodox complained of him, and urged that he be again brought to trial, but no action was taken, and at length his congre- gation scattered. He received much sympathy in London, and was held in high honor by many both ain the Church and among the Dissenters as one that had suffered more than any other man of his time for freedom of conscience. Whis- ton and Clarke gave him their friendship, and he was inti- mate with them from the beginning of the Arian movement; but except two Baptist ministers no one was brave enough to invite him to preach in his pulpit. With his pen he entered actively into the controversy still raging over the Trinity, and his writings did much to interest Dissenters in the sub- ject, and even before Whiston and Clarke to prepare them for. the Arian point of view which was soon to spread so widely among them. In the cause of religious freedom he had yet greater influence, as people of all parties reacted in disgust from the religious narrowness and the persecuting spirit shown in his trial. He was the last Dissenter to suffer imprisonment for blasphemy under the English law. Time brought its vindication. Twenty-five years after Emlyn’s release from prison, his old congregation, which had fallen off from the day he left it, called a minister who in- clined strongly to religious freedom, and who later became a leader of the Arian movement in the north of Ireland; 1} within a half century it had itself become Arian, and at length it came fully into the Unitarian movement. 1 See pages 339-341. 334 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE The controversy in the Church of England over the ex- planation of the persons in the Trinity had made little impression on the Dissenters, and indeed only one or two of them had taken part in it; for the Athanasian Creed which kept the subject constantly before the minds of Con- formists was not used in the Dissenters’ worship. But the question of whether and how Christ was God, and what kind of worship should-be paid to him, interested them deeply. This had been Emlyn’s question, but it was brought most forcibly to their attention by the writings of Whiston and Clarke; and the so-called Arian movement which they led had much less influence in their own Church of England than among the Dissenters, by whom Clarke was widely read. It was therefore in their quarter that the next long step was to be taken toward Unitarianism, as we shall now see. The leaders of the movement were ministers who had become liberal while preparing for the ministry. They had not been able to attend the English universities, for students in those were required to be members of the Church of England or to subscribe its Articles, which as Dissenters they could not do. Hence some of them went to Dutch universities to study, and there they were bound to come under the influence of teachers and fellow-students leavened with Socinian thought. Others attended Dissenting acad- emies in England; for after the Nonconforming clergy had been ejected from their parishes in 1662 many of them turned to teaching; and some of the academies that thus grew up were in general subjects almost equal, and in theological and biblical teaching quite superior, to the universities, which were then at a low ebb. The academies especially insisted on free investigation of the Scriptures and on the use of reason, while they paid much less respect THE ARIAN MOVEMENT 335 to the authority of the creeds. It is little wonder, then, that many of them became seed-beds for something like Arianism. Besides Emlyn’s case in Ireland, there were a few other outbreaks of Arianism in England which attracted a little attention, and it was suspected that Arianism was secretly gaining ground to a considerable degree. It was at Exeter, however, that it was first recognized as a serious danger. The Dissenters had long been strong here, where they had several Presbyterian congregations jointly managed by a single committee. Three of the four ministers were liberal. The senior minister, who had studied in Holland, conducted an academy which had the seeds of heresy in it, for one of its students was a secret correspondent of Whiston’s. Another of the ministers, James Peirce, who had also studied in Holland, and had won high standing as a champion of the Dissenters, had long been a friend of Whiston, and had accepted Clarke’s view of the Trinity before settling at Exeter. Like Emlyn, he kept his opinions to himself, and preached only on practical subjects. After Peirce had preached at Exeter some years, a rumor got afloat that he and others were not sound on the Trinity, and he was asked to declare his belief. Though he protested that he was not an Arian, the beliefs he expressed were not satisfactory to the Exeter Assembly of Ministers. A violent controversy ensued. The attempt was made to compel subscription of the ministers to an orthodox statement about the Trinity. Peirce and several others refused to subscribe, holding that the ministers had no authority over one another’s private opinions. At a loss what step to take next, the Assembly appealed to the Dissenting ministers of London for advice, and these met to consider the matter, as we shall soon see; but before their answer was received, the committee locked 336 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Peirce and his colleague out of their pulpits and refused to let them preach further, and similar action was taken in several other churches of the region. The two excluded ministers then formed a new church of their own,! meeting-house. Peirce, embittered by this experience, and broken in health, died a few years later,” but his church with a large congregation, and soon built a went on. ‘So did the cause he had espoused, beyond all expectation, stimulated rather than hindered by what had happened. Within a generation a known Arian was called to the pulpit from which Peirce had been excluded for Arianism; he in turn was succeeded by a decided Unitarian ; and in 1810 Peirce’s church was reunited with the other. Many of the other churches in Devonshire moved fast and far in the same direction, and well before the end of the century Unitarianism was so far in the ascendant that even Arians were looked down on as idolaters for their worship of Christ. What took place thus in the west of England is only an example of a similar movement among the Presbyterian and other churches of the rest of England, Wales, and Ireland, in the middle half of the eighteenth century. The movement was stimulated by the Exeter controversy. When the Exeter ministers appealed for advice to the Dissenting ministers of the three denominations in London, the latter met in assembly at Salters’ Hall? in 1719, to the number 1 This church, founded in 1717, may be called the earliest antitrini- tarian church in England which has continued its existence down to the present day. 2 Emlyn was called to succeed him, but was now grown too infirm to accept. 3 After the passage of the Toleration Act over a score of the Dis- senting congregations in London, instead of building new meeting- houses, for a time used for worship the handsome halls of old London guilds, whose members were almost entirely from among the Dissenters. THE ARIAN MOVEMENT 337 of a hundred and fifty. The question laid before them was whether the holding of Arian opinions by a minister was sufficient reason for withdrawing fellowship from him. As to the main question, there was general agreement; but one of the conservative ministers proposed that before a vote were taken on this question all present should first prove their orthodoxy by subscribing to the doctrine of the Trinity. Doubtless not a few of the ministers, under the influence of Emlyn and Clarke, had already come seriously to waver as to this doctrine, while yet others did not feel sure as to the future. At all events, the motion was met by determined opposition, and was lost by a small majority. The important thing is that the debate over this ques- tion led to a permanent split between the progressive and the conservative elements among the Dissenters, not over doctrine, but over the principle of freedom in religion. At Salters’ Hall in the main Presbyterians were strong against subscription, Independents strong for it, and Baptists about evenly divided; although in each of the denominations there were both orthodox believers and Arians in both camps. From this time forth for a generation the most burning question among Dissenters was the question as to sub- scription or non-subscription of creeds, which had _ first been raised at Exeter; the one party maintaining that ministers ought to be required to subscribe confessions of faith, the other that they ought to be left free. The controversy was long and heated, but the result was that within the next generation the ministers and congregations favoring subscription remained orthodox, and either con- formed to the Church of England or else went over to the Salters’ Hall was one of these, used as a Presbyterian church. This assembly is often spoken of as the Salters’ Hall synod, but it was not properly a synod, for it did not represent any organization of churches, and it had no authority over either churches or ministers, 338 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Independents; while the non-subscribers of the three de- nominations gravitated toward the Presbyterian side and became steadily more liberal. With required subscription to creeds now out of the way, there was little to control the Presbyterian munisters. Doctrinal changes went on rapidly among them, and their people followed them. Doctrines of the creeds found not to be in the Scriptures were first neglected, then soon disbe- lieved and forgotten. Disuse of the Westminster Catechism gradually became general. All through the middle of the century Arian views spread rapidly and widely; and these in their turn led to Unitarian views. In less than two gen- erations from the Salters’ Hall controversy practically all the churches that still kept the Presbyterian name had aban- doned the Trinitarian faith; and from this source came nearly all the oldest churches which later organized together in the English Unitarian movement of the nineteenth century. In the second half of the eighteenth century these liberal Presbyterian churches far outstripped the rest of the Dis- senters in the ability and scholarship of their ministers, in the culture, wealth, and social influence of their members, and in public life and public service; but they were not effectively organized, and they made little new growth in numbers or strength. Another liberal drift, very similar to that among the Presbyterians, was going on independently at about the same time among the General Baptists.t_ A generation before the case of Peirce at Exeter an attempt, several times repeated, had been made to exclude from Baptist fellowship a min- 1The Baptists, who had come together into an organized denomina- tion in England early in the seventeenth century, had split up in 1633 into Particular Baptists, who were the smaller sect and strict Calvinists, and General Baptists, who were more numerous and more liberal in spirit and progressive in doctrine. THE ARIAN MOVEMENT 339 ister whose views were more or less Unitarian. Though the Assembly disapproved his views, they refused to exclude him, thus declaring for liberty of belief. The orthodox minority thereupon seceded for a time; but the denomination steadily grew more liberal in belief, and most of its churches, like the Presbyterians and not a few of the liberal Inde- pendents, eventually joined the Unitarian movement. The discussion begun at Salters’ Hall was not long in spreading to the Presbyterians in Wales and Ireland. In Wales Calvinism had begun to decay early in the eighteenth century, giving way first to Arminian and then to Arian views. The movement, as had been the case in England, was stimulated by a Dissenting academy at Carmarthen, which was now supported largely by Presbyterian funds from London. Before the middle of the century many of its students, doubtless influenced by the writings of Emlyn and Clarke, had become Arian, and from that time on their views rapidly spread. As in England, nearly all the old Presbyterian as well as several General Baptist congrega- tions gave up their belief in the Trinity; and as Arianism faded away Unitarianism succeeded it, and many new churches of that faith were founded. In Cardiganshire they were so numerous that the orthodox gave vent to their feelings over the situation by naming that region “the black spot.” The number of Welsh Unitarian congrega- tions to-day is between thirty and forty. In Scotland liberal influences were felt at the universities, and spread thence into Ireland, whence many young men had come to study for the ministry; but though there were for a time several sporadic movements toward the end of the century, Unitarianism in any form did not take firm root until well on in the nineteenth century. | In the north of Ireland Presbyterianism had been organ- 340 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE ized among the inhabitants of Scotch origin (the Scotch- Irish) in 1642, and subscription to creeds had never been re- quired. But after Emlyn’s trial, and while he was still in prison, in order to guard against the spread of his beliefs in northern Ireland, it was voted in 1705, in face of strong op- position, to require subscription to the Westminster Confes- sion from all ministers seeking ordination. The Rev. John Abernethy, who had just declined a call to succeed Emlyn at the Dublin church, now settled at Antrim, and soon gathered about him an association of ministers. Meeting together during some years they came to agree in opposing sub- scription, and to take open ground against it. In the con- troversy that followed for six or seven years they were named the “New Lights,” and this name clung to the Irish and Scotch liberals for a full century.? Friction between them and the orthodox increased so much that in 1725 the synod set the non-subscribers apart into a Presbytery of Antrim by themselves, and the next year excluded them from the synod altogether, the ministers in the synod being nearly equally divided, but the elders strongly conservative. It was suspected that many of the non-subscribers were in- clined to Arianism; but the issue here was precisely what it had been at Salters’ Hall. This victory of the orthodox did little to stop the spread of heresy. Many of the ministers in the Synod of Ulster remained out of sympathy with required subscription, and the feeling against it steadily grew. In the course of the century the practice of subscribing gradually decayed or was evaded more and more even among the orthodox. Arian 1In the very next year Calvin’s old church at Geneva took the op- posite step, and abolished subscription. 2 Their influence was much felt in the Church of Scotland at the beginning of the nineteenth century. See Robert Burns’s “Kirk’s Alarm.” THE ARIAN MOVEMENT 341 views spread correspondingly; and after the law against deniers of the Trinity was repealed in 1817, Unitarian doc- trines began to be preached openly. This at length roused the orthodox into action, and after a bitter controversy it was again voted in 1828 to insist upon subscription. The non-subscribers then withdrew and in 1830 formed a Re- monstrant synod, suffering considerable persecution in con- sequence. Presbyterian churches had always been very few in the south of Ireland, but a similar movement went on in the churches there. To anticipate here, and bring the story down to the present day, it may be added that in 1907 the various bodies of Unitarians in the north of Ireland united to form the Non-Subscribing Presbyterian Church of Ire- land, which though Presbyterian in name and form of gov- ernment is Unitarian in belief, and is associated with the Unitarian churches of Great Britain. The number of con- gregations is about forty. We have now reached the point where in the third quarter of the eighteenth century a large number of the Dissenting ministers and churches of Great Britain and Ireland had become practically Unitarian. They were no longer bound to accept a particular creed, they had come to a generous tolerance of differences of belief, they had left the doctrine of the Trinity behind, and they were coming to accept the full humanity of Jesus. Still their movement in this direc- tion had been so slow and gradual that they hardly realized how far they had come, or whither they were bound. They were but a loosely connected group of churches, and they had taken no definite step to show just what they stood for; they were conscious of no common body of doctrine; they had no recognized leader or common rallying-point; and they had no clear vision or plan for the future. They were like a stream that has broadened out until it is likely to 342 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE sink into the ground and be lost unless it can be led to- gether again into a well marked channel. In short, they needed a leader and a spokesman, and a name and a recog- nized cause to rally about. In the fullness of time these two needs were now to be supplied, in the persons of the two men of whom the next two chapters will speak. CHAPTER XXXI THE UNITARIAN REVOLT FROM THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND: THEOPHILUS LINDSEY ORGANIZES THE FIRST UNITARIAN CHURCH, 1750-1808 In the last two chapters we have followed two separate streams of Unitarianism gathering volume, one in the Church of England, the other among the Dissenters. They were to a large degree independent of each other, for the Church and Dissent had, as they still have, little to do with each other. In this and the next chapter we are to find these two streams flowing together and making a channel of their own, which will issue in an organized Unitarian body. We have seen that the ministers in the Church of England who felt ill at ease using the Prayer Book or the Athanasian Creed most of them settled down at last into using these as they found them, but putting their own interpretations on them. After all, this sorely troubled the consciences of those who desired in religion above all things else to be and seem perfectly sincere, and for a generation or more they tried in various ways to get around a difficulty which they had been unable to remove. The Athanasian Creed was their worst stumbling-block. While the more timid kept their thoughts to themselves, others made no secret of them. Several altered the liturgy, and left it to the bishops to take action against them if they thought best. Some got the parish clerk to read 343 344 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE for them parts of the service which they were unwilling to read themselves. Some omitted the creed altogether, and suffered prosecution in the ecclesiastical courts for doing so; and when one of these was ordered to restore it to its place in the service, he put it to ridicule by having it sung to the tune of a popular hunting song. Yet another, when he came to the creed, said, “Brethren, this is the creed of St. Athanasius, and God forbid it should be the creed of any other man.” Several of the bishops themselves were unsound as to the Trinity, and sympathizing with these evasions did nothing to prevent them; but the situation was notorious, and did nothing to raise the liberal clergy in public respect.t_ Their behavior was in sad contrast to that of the 2,500 non-conforming clergy who in 1662 had given up all worldly prospects? for a similar principle of con- science. It seemed as though sensitive conscience had de- serted from the Church to Dissent. The liberal Dissenters took note of all this, and when the Bishop of Oxford complained of the low state of religion, one of them taking up the subject in a book reminded him ‘that among the causes of the prevalent skepticism his Lordship had forgotten that the clergy themselves solemnly subscribed to Articles they did not believe.’ Of all the clergy at this time only one, William Robertson of Ireland, ‘“‘the father of Unitarian Nonconformity,” fol- lowed his conscience so far as to abandon flattering pros- pects and, when well beyond middle life, at great cost to him- self to resign from the ministry (1764). Though the controversy following Dr. Clarke’s book had 1A prominent clergyman who was in a position to know as well as any one, declared that not over a fifth of the clergy subscribed in the strict sense. 2 See page 329. THEOPHILUS LINDSEY 345 largely died out,’ all through the middle of the eighteenth century books or pamphlets kept appearing from time to time (almost always anonymously), urging that the terms of subscription should be relaxed, and thus preparing the way for a further move. For it must be remembered that all candidates for ordination or advancement in the ministry were required by law to subscribe the Thirty-nine Articles of Religion and all things in the liturgy of the Church of England, and that similar tests were imposed on admis- sion or graduation at the universities. The feeling back of all these writings at length found its full expression in one of the most important books in the religious life of eighteenth century England, a book entitled The Confes- stonal, published anonymously (1766) by the Rey. Francis Blackburne, Archdeacon of Cleveland. The author was a sincere and earnest man, who spent nearly fifty years as rector of one parish, at Richmond in Yorkshire. It was only a few years after his ordination, that the book appeared which led Robertson to resign his charge and it roused grave questionings also in Blackburne’s mind, so that it was only after serious misgivings that he was persuaded to subscribe when he was made archdeacon the next year, and he never would subscribe again after that. He gradually grew bolder in his thought, sent his son to school at an Arian academy, and cultivated friendship with Dr. Priestley, who was now becoming a leader among the non-subscribing Dissenters. He printed one or two minor things on the subject so much on his mind, and petitioned the archbishop for reforms in the Church; but no visible notice was taken. He therefore began collecting materials for a convincing work on the subject. Blackburne was apparently the same sort of Arian as Dr. 1See page 327. 346 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Clarke; and in his book he discussed at length the history of subscription and the arguments for it, and argued power- fully that Protestant churches have no right to set up creeds composed by men, in place of the Word of God, as tests of the orthodoxy of ministers, and that subscription ought at once to be abolished as a mischievous stumbling-block. The book caused great excitement among the conservatives, who took the view that the Church could not serve its purpose, but would fall to pieces, unless all its members believed alike. The archbishop soon spied out the authorship of the book, and a controversy ensued which ran to a hun- dred pamphlets and books. Though there was great clamor against the book and its writer, it won many converts, and made a deep impression, and it led at length to an organized movement to get relief from subscription, which had the support of even one or two of the bishops. It was some years before the movement took definite shape ; but in 1771 Blackburne, who was recognized as the leader in the cause, was induced to draw up some proposals for an appeal to Parliament for relief from subscription to the liturgy and Articles, and these were widely circulated. In the face of much discouragement from those in high station, and of timid lukewarmness in others, a meeting was held at the Feathers’ Tavern in London, where a petition to Parliament was drawn up. Though this Feathers’ Tavern Petition, as it was called, was circulated for half a year, only about two hundred and fifty signatures could be ob- tained. Most of the clergy who sympathized with the petition dared not give it their support for fear of con- sequences to themselves. The Rev. William Paley, who afterwards became famous as a theologian, unblushingly said what others doubtless felt, when he declined to sign the petition because ‘he could not afford to keep a conscience.’ THEOPHILUS LINDSEY 347 The petition was presented to Parliament early in 1772, and very ably supported by its friends, but as bitterly opposed not only by orthodox Churchmen, but by the Methodists as well. It was urged that it would destroy the Church and disturb the peace of the country; and after an eight hours’ debate Parliament by a majority of three to one refused to receive the petition. A similar attempt two years later met the same fate, as did also an attempt the same year to get the Articles and the liturgy revised through petition to the archbishop. So the movement died out, and those that had supported it slumped back and, even if they declined advancment and refused to sign the articles again, continued to say the creed and use the liturgy just as before, and kept on disbelieving them just as before.’ Of all that had signed the Feathers’ Tavern Petition, the most are so wholly forgotten that it is not easy even to discover their names. The only one that ever made any real mark on the religious thought of the time following was one Theophilus Lindsey, who now withdrew from the Church. We have next to follow the 1The Feathers’ Tavern Petition was brought up in Parliament again in 1774 and decisively rejected, and the situation remained quite un- changed down to 1865, when the terms of subscription were altered so that now one must assent only to “the Articles” (instead of “all and every the Articles”) and the Book of Common Prayer, and believe the doctrine therein set forth to be agreeable to the Word of God. Some deem this an important change and a great relief to conscience; others see no great difference. In 1867 an effort was made to have the Athanasian Creed removed from the service of the Church. The High Churchmen opposed the movement, and threatened to leave the Church if any change were made. The creed is still retained, and must be used thirteen times a year, though evasion of the full re- quirement is often practiced, and as often winked at. In 1858 tests for matriculation for the bachelor’s degree were abolished at Oxford, and conditions had been relaxed at Cambridge two years before. All university tests were abolished by Gladstone’s government in 1871. 348 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE story of his life, for he became the founder of the Unitarian Church in England. Theophilus Lindsey, the youngest son of a business man of Scotch origin, was born at Middlewich, Cheshire, in 1723. He showed good promise in boyhood, and thus attracted the attention of some ladies who provided for his education. In due time he went up to the University of Cambridge, where he was known for his high character and firm principles, was graduated with honors, and was made a Fellow. Flattering inducements were offered him to embrace the life of a scholar, but he deliberately chose the ministry as the call- ing where he could best serve God and do the most good to men. He was ordained minister in the Church of Eng- land, and soon became private chaplain in the family of a nobleman, and in this service he spent some years in travel on the continent. He then became minister of a modest parish in Yorkshire, near to Richmond, where he soon formed an intimate friendship with Archdeacon Blackburne, with whose views he had much in common. After three years he was persuaded by friends to accept a parish in Dorset- shire, where he proved a most faithful and devoted minister to the members of his flock. He stayed there seven years, giving himself much to the study of Scripture and its doctrines, and .in consequence came to entertain serious doubts as to the rightfulness of offering to Christ the worship which the liturgy required. He even thought seriously of resigning from his ministry al- together; but he was reluctant to abandon his chosen life work, and to take such an almost unprecedented step; and as he knew that many others who believed as he did re- mained in the Church, he made the usual excuses to himself, and managed for a time to quiet his conscience by explain- ing the doctrine of the Trinity in the way then common. THEOPHILUS LINDSEY 349 Meantime he married the step-daughter of Blackburne; but though he was offered a place in Ireland which would no doubt soon have led him to a bishopric, he declined the honor, and instead chose to go where the scenes and the people were dear to them both. He accordingly returned to Yorkshire in 1763 and settled over the parish of Catterick. His new post gave him a smaller salary than the one he had left, but a greater opportunity of doing good; for there was a large number of poor people init. He took up his new work with such enthusiasm that people said he had turned Methodist. He and his wife spent much of their time, and all the spare means that a most self-denying life afforded, in trying to improve the condition of the poor, and sup- plying them with nursing, medicine, food, and books, and so trying to make them feel the practical influence of the Christian religion. He devoted himself especially to young people, and in 1763 established one of the first Sunday schools in England for religious instruction. Happy as he was in his work, however, one thing made Lindsey uneasy. He had been not a little troubled about subscribing the Articles when he settled at Catterick, and had determined that he would never subscribe again, but would stay there for the rest of his life. But he was far more troubled that whenever he used the Prayer Book he had to offer worship to Christ and the Holy Spirit, instead of to God alone as the Bible taught. While in this state of mind he had the fortune to spend several days at Black- burne’s house in the company of two non-subscribing Presby- terian ministers. One of these was Dr. Priestley, who had already become a convinced Unitarian, and was minister at Leeds, and was destined later to be recognized along with Lindsey as one of the two founders of the Unitarian Church in England. Lindsey told him how uneasy he felt, and that 350 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE he had thoughts of resigning his charge. Priestley advised him to stay where he was, try to make the church broader, and alter the things in the Prayer Book which troubled him, waiting for the bishop to turn him out if he chose. But Lindsey remembered that he had solemnly promised to use the liturgy as it was, and whenever he remembered that Robertson had resigned for a similar reason, he felt re- proached of conscience.» He threw himself more deeply than ever into his work among the poor, and into the preach- ing of practical sermons, and made no secret of his views, but all to no purpose. It was at this time that the Feathers’ Tavern movement took place. ‘Though Lindsey had little expectation that anything would come of it, he grasped at it as one last straw, and went into the movement with great earnestness. Two thousand miles he traveled through snow and rain that winter trying to get signatures to the petition. He met with lukewarmness, timidity, even with abuse; but he got few signatures. Stimulated by the example of Robert- son, and of the ejected clergy of a century before, he de- termined that if the petition failed he would resign. It failed, as we have seen; and without waiting for the attempt to be renewed he prepared to take the critical step. He had first to see his parishioners through a severe epidemic of smallpox which afflicted many of them. Then he took Blackburne and other friends into his confidence, hardly one of whom but tried to dissuade him; but he was unshakable. At length, after preparing for publication a full and careful Apology for Resigning the Vicarage of Cattertck, he wrote a tender and affectionate Farewell Address to his people, preached his last sermon to them, and at the beginning of winter “went out, not knowing whither he went.” He had laid up nothing for a rainy day, having spent all his sur- THEOPHILUS LINDSEY 351 plus on the poor of his parish; and after selling all but the most precious of his worldly possessions he had but £50 to face the world with, and an income of only £20 a year in sight. It will be hard for us to realize what it can have meant for a man of fifty, frail in health, thus to give up his com- fortable living and face a totally unknown future. Most of his former friends now fell away from him and treated him coldly, as either a traitor to religion or else a visionary fool. The Feathers’ Tavern petitioners protested that his resignation would ruin their cause. So strained became re- lations with Archdeacon Blackburne that for several years he refused to see the Lindseys. Hardly one of his friends offered him any help in his time of need, though one of her wealthy relations offered to provide for Mrs. Lindsey, if she would abandon her husband. Such a proposal she in- dignantly rejected, for she fully sympathized with him, and was ready without complaint to bear any sacrifices that might come. Outside the Church friends were kinder. One of them offered to recommend him to a very influential Dissenting congregation at Liverpool. Another offered him an opening to teach in a Dissenting academy. A third offered him a handsome salary as librarian. All these offers he declined because he had planned, if possible, to gather in London a congregation of others like himself (he was confident there must be a great many of them), who loved the worship of the Church of England, but wished to see important changes made in its liturgy. On his way up to London Lindsey visited several friends, and at the house of one of them he saw the alterations which Dr. Clarke had proposed in the liturgy.’ This gave him light, and he copied them that he might publish a re- 1 See page 325 n. 352 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE formed Prayer Book for the use of his new congregation. Arrived at London, Lindsey took humble lodgings in two scantily furnished rooms, where he soon fell into such want that the family plate had to be sold to pay for food and lodg- ing. On the other hand he enjoyed such peace from a good conscience as he had not known for years, and he began to draw up his reformed liturgy. Friends soon found him out, learned of his plan, and encouraged him in it. Unexpectedly few, indeed, from the Church of England; but there was Dr. Priestley, who was now a celebrated man and had influential connections, and Dr. Price also prominent among the liberal Dissenters. These and others helped to raise funds, a vacant auction-room in Essex Street was rented and fitted up for worship, and on April 17, 1774, was opened the Essex Street Chapel, the first place in England that came to anything, which was avowedly intended for the worship of 2 God on Unitarian principles.’ Firmin’s plan’ was at length realized in a way, although Lindsey was disappointed to find that very few adherents of his movement, and only one gift for it, came from members of the Church; nor did many follow his example in resigning from its ministry. About a dozen clergymen resigned within a few years, but 1The earlier short-lived meetings of Bidle, Emlyn and others are not to be forgotten in this connection, nor is Peirce’s Arian movement at Exeter. It is true that not a few of the old Presbyterian congregations had before now outgrown their Arianism and become Unitarian in belief, but they were not yet so in name. Lindsey adopted the Unitarian doc- trine without reserve, and gave the word a new definition. By it he meant “that religious worship is to be addressed only to the One true God, the Father,” implying therefore the pure humanity of Jesus. The orthodox did not like to admit the right of Unitarians to appropriate the name, claiming that they too believed in the unity of God; and for a long time they insisted on naming the Unitarians Socinians. But the name chosen by Lindsey spread and has survived, and the other has passed out of use. 2 See page 321. THEOPHILUS LINDSEY 353 only two or three. of these took up the Unitarian min- istry, and only an occasional one has done so down to this day. Officers of the government were suspicious of the new chapel, and there was delay in getting it legally registered as a place of worship. Not only was it still against the law to deny the Trinity, but political radicalism was feared, and for several Sundays an agent of the government was present to report whether the law were violated. He found nothing to complain of. Lindsey declared his intention not to engage in religious controversy; and the worship was much like that of the Church of England, save that the minister wore no surplice, and that the revised Prayer Book made many doctrinal omissions and some other changes. At the first service about two hundred were pres- ent, including one lord, several clergy of the Church of England, Dr. Priestley, and Dr. Benjamin Franklin, who was then in London in the interest of the American colonies, and was a regular attendant until he returned home. The congregations grew, and in them were found members of the nobility, members of Parliament, men prominent in public life, well-known scientists, and people of wealth who were generous to the cause. In fact, malicious tongues set afloat the rumor that Lindsey had resigned from Catterick with pecuniary ends in view! The chapel became too small to hold those that came, so that after four years the premises were bought and a new chapel and minister’s dwelling were built.’ From now on all went smoothly. As his work grew and his age increased, Lindsey sought a colleague. It was some 1The Essex Street congregation worshiped here until 1886, when they removed to a more suitable location in Kensington. Since then Essex Hall has been headquarters for organized Unitarianism in England. 354 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE years before one could be found; but in 1783 Dr. Disney, who had married another daughter of Archdeacon Black- burne, and had also been one of the Feathers’ Tavern As- sociation, withdrew from the Church and came to assist Lindsey at Essex Street Chapel. Lindsey had already pub- lished several writings since coming to London; for he had found himself forced to break his original resolution as to religious controversy, and to answer attacks and argue in defense of the beliefs he held. Now that he had a colleague he gave himself more than ever to writing. One of the most important of his later works was his Historical View of Unitarianism (1783), which helped his followers to realize that instead of being a new and insignificant sect, they were part of a movement nearly as old as Protestantism, which had had distinguished adherents in half a dozen countries for two centuries and a half. He also wrote a defense of his dear friend, Dr. Priestley, who was now being bitterly at- tacked, as well as two books on the true belief about Christ, the prevalent worship of whom he boldly attacked as no better than “Christian idolatry.” He steadily grew clearer and firmer in his departure from orthodoxy, not a little in- fluenced in this by the fearless attitude of Dr. Priestley. At seventy, though still in full vigor, he realized that his public work must be nearly done, and therefore resigned his pulpit, which he would never consent to enter again. Lindsey lived fifteen years after his retirement, in a serene and very happy old age. He published one more book, showing his deep faith in the universal goodness of God, and was always ready with his counsel and with material aid for the cause he loved. He was a moving spirit in the first two societies which were the beginning of organized Unita- rianism in England, and before he died he had the happiness of knowing that his views had spread widely in the British THEOPHILUS LINDSEY 355 Isles and in France, and that the oldest Episcopal church in New England (King’s Chapel, Boston) had followed his example and revised its Prayer Book after the pattern of Dr. Clarke. Lindsey was not a popular preacher who drew great crowds, but his sincerity and earnestness, his rare strength of character, and his unselfishness deeply impressed those that knew him. Though he lived at a period when they were uppermost in most minds, he would not discuss political questions in his pulpit; but outside it he took an active part in working for broader civil and religious liberty, and against slavery. Like his friends, Dr. Priestley and Dr. Price,’ he was very liberal in politics, and warmly sympathized with the American colonies (as did the Dis- senters almost universally), and with the French Revolution in its early days as an uprising against despotic tyranny. His influence on the development of the Unitarian movement, though much more quict than Priestley’s, was very great. As we have seen, it did not much affect the Church of Eng- land, and in this his hopes were disappointed; for those who should have followed his example preferred, when the pinch came, to stay where they were, whatever it might cost them in twinges of conscience. But to some of the liberal Dissenters, who had gradually drifted into Unitarian views without ever having confessed the Unitarian name, and who thus occupied an equivocal position, his bold, uncompromis- ing, and successful example gave the courage of their con- victions. Encouraged also by the advice of their acknowl- edged leader, Priestley, they now began openly to adopt 1Dr. Richard Price was, after Priestley, the most famous of the liberal Dissenters. He was a noted mathematician, and wrote impor- tant works on finance, politics, and philosophy, and on the war with America. His view of Christ was Arian and was strongly opposed by Dr. Priestley, but their friendship was of the warmest. 356 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the Unitarian name, until not long after Lindsey’s death nearly a score of these churches could be numbered, and their organization into one body went steadily on. We must now turn to see how these churches were led in this definite direction by Priestley. CHAPTER XXXII THE LIBERAL DISSENTING CHURCHES BE- COME OPENLY UNITARIAN UNDER THE LEADERSHIP OF JOSEPH PRIESTLEY, 1750-1804 We have seen in a previous chapter how the Presbyterian churches rapidly became liberal after the division at Salters’ Hall. The movement among them might be de- scribed as a “liberal drift,’ for it was not a concerted movement with either program or leaders. No one was particularly trying or wishing to form a new denomination, ‘or to re-form an old one. ‘There were many able men among their ministers, but only two or three stand out above the rest for the influence they had in bringing about a change of beliefs. One of the earliest of these was Dr. John Taylor of Norwich, who in 1740 published a work on Original Sin which powerfully attacked the orthodox doctrine on that subject, and not only had great influence in England, but also did much to root out this doctrine in New England. Another was Dr. Richard Price’ one of the leading Dis- senting ministers in the London district, and a strong friend of the American colonies at the time of their Revolution, who helped undermine the orthodox beliefs by his printed sermons on the nature of Christ (1786), in which he strongly defended the Arian view. But by far the most influential of 1 See note, page 355. 357 358 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE those that led the Presbyterians to acknowledge Unitarian beliefs was Joseph Priestley. Priestley was in many ways the polar opposite of Lindsey. He was an extreme Dissenter, while Lindsey was by temper a devoted Churchman. He was a clear-thinking rationalist, while Lindsey was a man of fervent spiritual religion. Priestley welcomed religious controversy as a way of clearing up the truth, while Lindsey shrank from it. Priestley devoted his spare time and thought to science, Lindsey gave his spare time and money to charity and work among the poor. Yet they were united in close bonds of rare friendship for over a generation. Joseph Priestley was born at a little village near Leeds in 1778, \the eldest son of a cloth-maker. When he was six years old his mother died, and he was brought up by an aunt. She was a deeply religious woman, and having brought him up in the strictest religious habits in the In- dependent Church she encouraged him to become a minister. Being never very robust he was the more serious-minded and diligent in his studies, and early in his teens had learned Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, and he eventually became master of half a score of foreign languages. Although brought up a strict Calvinist, he early showed an independent mind, and when he sought to join the church he was refused ad- mission because he could not say he believed he shared the guilt of Adam’s sin. Nor would he enter the academy in London where it was proposed to send him, for he had now become an Arminian in belief, and could not sign the creed which was set before the students twice a year to keep them straight in the faith. So he went to a new academy at Daventry, where he was enrolled as its first student, and there began his studies for the ministry. Very free discus- sion of both sides of all questions was encouraged here, JOSEPH PRIESTLEY 359 and as he found himself taking the liberal side of almost every question he soon had become an Arian. His studies finished, Priestley accepted the first call that came to him, and became minister of a Presbyterian congre- gation at a little village in Suffolk, with a salary of but £30 a year, refusing an extra stipend which he might have had had he been willing to subscribe a creed, and trying to cke out this scanty salary by teaching. He set to work with great industry in his church and in the prosecution of further studies; for he was an incessant worker, methodi- cal in his use of time, and never allowing a moment to go to waste, and throughout his long life he seldom lost an hour of work through illness. Results were not encouraging. He was hindered by an inherited tendency to stammer, which made him a poor public speaker; but worse than that, he was steadily moving further and further from orthodoxy, dropping one belief after another; and as they discovered this, members of his congregation gradually fell away from his services and withdrew their support until he was often in want, and was hardly able to keep out of debt. He was glad therefore after three years to accept a call to a more liberal congregation at Nantwich in Cheshire. The con- gregation was small but sympathetic; and as it made no great demands on him, he was able to supplement his meager salary again by teaching from seven to seven, with no holidays. Hard as this labor was, he much enjoyed it, and was able to buy some books and scientific apparatus ; and he found time to write a book on theology, and an English grammar on an original plan. The reputation he made by his teaching at Nantwich led to his appointment, after three years, as teacher of lan- guages at Warrington, in a new Dissenting academy where all three of the teachers were Arians. Here he spent six 360 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE happy years, in which he published several works growing out of his teaching, one of which led the University of Edin- burgh to make him a Doctor of Laws. In this period he also met Dr. Franklin in London, and with his encourage- ment wrote a History of Electricity, and he was soon after- wards elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, which later gave him the supreme honor of its gold medal for his dis- coveries in chemistry. While at Warrington, Priestley continued to preach, having by very patient practice somewhat overcome his habit of stammering; and as his teaching was bringing him only the barest living, he accepted in 1767 a call to the Mill Hill Chapel at Leeds, the largest Dissenting congrega- tion in the north of England, where he spent the next six years. Happy to be doing again the work of his first choice, he threw himself into it with great energy, was diligent in preaching, in visiting his people, in instruct- ing the young, and in organizing the congregation. Find- ing many of the liberal Dissenters slipping away to the Methodists, whose movement was then sweeping over Eng- land, he wrote a tract appealing to them to be true to their convictions and not let themselves be carried away by popular emotion. Thirty thousand copies of this tract were cir- culated, and together with others had a great effect in arous- ing loyalty. He also continued his studies in theology, and published several new volumes on the subject; and now giv- ing up Arianism he became a full-fledged Unitarian, beliey- ing in the simple humanity of Jesus, a doctrine which until now had been professed by very few in England. It was in this period that he first met Lindsey and gave him his sympathy. For recreation in leisure hours Priestley continued his experiments in electricity, and began important experiments JOSEPH PRIESTLEY 361 in the chemistry of the air which led him later to the dis- covery of oxygen,’ and thus made him one of the founders of modern chemistry, and one of the most distinguished sci- entific men of his age. The fame he thus won brought him a proposal to accompany Captain Cook as astronomer on his second voyage around the world; but as some clergy- men of influence opposed him on account of his religious views, the appointment was denied him. Soon afterwards, however, when he was offered a position as literary com- panion to Lord Shelburne, with a large salary, and much freedom to pursue his studies in theology and his experi- ments in science, the conditions were too attractive to re- sist. He continued in this position for seven years. Trav- eling on the Continent with his lordship he was received with high honor by the scientific men of Paris. They gen- erally professed to be atheists, while he did not hesitate to declare his belief in Christianity; whereupon some of them told him he was the only person of sense they had ever met who professed to believe in the Christian religion. He con- tinued his scientific studies, published more volumes on theology or philosophy, and when in London saw much of Lindsey and gave him great help in his new work. The war with the American colonies was now going on, and Priestley’s sympathy with them was undisguised, while his patron’s sympathies were on the other side. Priestley there- fore resigned his position in 1780, and as he was soon called to be one of the ministers of the New Meeting at Birming- ham he again returned to the pulpit. Now began the happiest and most influential period of Priestley’s life, though it was to end in tragedy. He was the 1In the course of these experiments he invented carbonated water, and thus deserves to be remembered with gratitude by any one who on a hot summer’s day enjoys a glass of “soda water,” 362 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE most liberal of the Dissenting ministers, and the New Meet- ing was the most liberal congregation in England, so that they suited each other well. It was a famous church, con- taining not a few distinguished men. It was agreed that he might devote himself to studies and writing during the week, and serve the church only on Sundays, while his colleague was to have the care of the parish. He performed his part of the duties faithfully, preaching mornings, and in the afternoon teaching or catechizing his young people, sometimes as many as a hundred and fifty of them, taken in three or four classes one after another. He continued his experiments in science, and also got deeper and deeper into theology, publishing two of his most elaborate and im- portant works, History of the Corruptions of Christianity * (1782), and History of Early Opinions concerning Jesus Christ (1786). Previous writers had generally stopped with trying to show that the early church was not Trinitarian but Arian. In these works Priestley contended that the earliest belief about Christ was purely Unitarian, and that the doctrines which arose later came of the corrupting in- fluence of pagan philosophy upon Christian thought. He insisted that the orthodox worship of Christ was sheer idolatry, and that Arianism was little better. These writings brought down upon him bitter and even vicious attacks, especially from Archdeacon Horsley, with whom a controversy went on for some eight years. Priestley’s great fame as a scientist had drawn much at- tention to his theological works, and it was feared that they might have disastrous effects upon the clergy. Horsley therefore sought, by magnifying certain incidental errors into which too hasty writing had led Priestley, to prevent such a result by discrediting him as a competent authority 1 Ordered burnt by the common hangman at Dort, Holland, 1785. JOSEPH PRIESTLEY 363 in theology, and as perhaps even dishonest, and on this ground he excused himself from attempting to answer Priestley’s main argument. So far as the Church of Eng- land was concerned, Horsley succeeded in his purpose, for but a handful left the Church to follow Priestley; but with the liberal Dissenters Priestley’s prestige was immensely in- creased. Each year he would publish a volume of Defences of Unitartanism to meet the attacks that were being made on them; and as he was the first powerful champion they had had since open speaking became safe, they rallied to his standard, while he in turn powerfully molded their thought and confirmed them in their beliefs. Eleven years, the happiest and most fruitful of his life, Priestley lived in Birmingham. Sundays he devotedly served his church; weekdays he spent in studying and writ- ing on theological subjects, or in his scientific experiments. Meantime clouds were beginning to gather over his head. His bold and repeated attacks on the Trinity made many converts to Unitarianism, and prevented many others from slipping over to the Church of England, and his church grew rapidly. The clergy of the town, who from the first had shown much bigotry towards him, began violently to abuse him from their pulpits and in print, calling him infidel, atheist, and no better than the Devil himself ; but he defended himself ably, and showed much better spirit than his opponents. Yet fiercer opposition came upon him when he championed the cause of the Dissenters in their effort before Parliament to have the Test and Corporation Acts* repealed. These laws, passed more than a century before, were designed to exclude Dissenters from all offices in the municipal and national governments; and although they had now long 1See page 329, 364 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE lain unenforced or suspended or evaded, so that prosecution under them had become practically unknown, Dissenters held office only under humiliating conditions, and with the knowledge that at any time the rigor of the law might fall upon them. For more than half a century now no attempt had been made to have them repealed; but as Dissenters had not long since been relieved of subscription to the Articles of Religion, and the government was believed to be liberal, it was felt that the time was ripe for them to agitate for full rights. The orthodox Dissenters did little about it, but the liberals took up the movement actively, with Priestley as their ablest and most active champion. The High Church party opposed the movement with the greatest bitterness. ‘Taking advantage of the known sym- pathy of Priestley and other liberal Dissenters with the French Revolution, which had lately overthrown the most corrupt state and church in Europe, but had now begun to run into dangerous excesses, they used every means to make it appear that church and state were also in peril in Eng- land, and that the real purpose of the Dissenters was to overthrow the Church of England and dethrone the king, and that Priestley and his followers were really conspirators and traitors in disguise. The petition to Parliament was defeated thrice in succession, and the attempt was for the time abandoned,! but the High Church party would not be appeased. Edmund Burke by his writings and his speeches in Parliament, and the clergy throughout the kingdom, tried to inflame the minds of the people against Priestley. At- tacks upon him in Birmingham, and upon other Dissenters elsewhere, were made with fresh fury. Meantime the Revolu- tion in France had got out of hand and was running into 1The Acts were not finally repealed until 1828, though in Ireland the Test Act was repealed in 1780, JOSEPH PRIESTLEY 365 widespread violence and bloodshed, so that many con- servatives in England were honestly nervous with anxiety lest revolution should cross the Channel. Every means was therefore used to fill the popular mind with the notion that Dissenters were dangerous radicals who were plotting treason. At last in 1791, on a date decided on beforehand, the train which had been carefully laid was fired at Birming- ham. A drunken mob of several thousand was gathered from the lower classes, with minds poisoned and inflamed by the High Church clergy and their party. They burnt Priestley’s and another Dissenting meeting-house, plundered his library, scattered his manuscripts, the labor of years, destroyed his scientific apparatus, burnt his house, and would gladly have murdered him, but that he was warned just in time and barely escaped with his life. ‘Church and King” was their slogan, as if to overawe and discipline con- spirators against the Constitution and government of Eng- land; but their real motive was religious bigotry against Dissenters in general, and in particular against the Unita- rians and their leader, Dr. Priestley. Three days and nights the mob raged and pillaged, with no serious attempt made to control them until soldiers were sent from a distance. A hundred or more houses, and several meeting-houses, were burnt, torn down, or sacked, practically all of them belong- ing to liberal Dissenters, whose property loss was a quarter of a million pounds. The High Church party openly exulted over the lesson they had taught to show the Dissenters their place, and the clergyman who had done most to stir up the trouble was 1 July 14, when the anniversary of the fall of the Bastille, as the beginning of the French Revolution, was to be observed by meetings of liberals in many parts of England. 366 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE soon afterwards rewarded by being made a bishop. Out of several thousand rioters fewer than twenty were finally put to trial, and the trial was a farce. Only six, known to be desperate criminals anyway, were convicted, and of these two escaped punishment. ‘The victims of the mob recovered at law but little more than half of their losses. Deep sympathy was shown Priestley from many quarters, and money was sent him-by many friends. Addresses of sympathy poured in on him from many societies in England, France and America. The French voted him a citizen of their new republic, and appointed him to a seat in their National Assembly; but at home religious bigotry contin- ued to do its work against him. He never found it safe to return to Birmingham; but he sent back, to be read from the ruins of his meeting-house, a sermon on the text, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Going to London, he was soon chosen minister of the church at Hackney, to succeed his friend Dr. Price who had lately died. Here he preached for some three years, also teaching theology in a liberal college near by, and happy in the frequent society of his dearest friend, Lindsey. Yet even in London, life was made almost intolerable for him. He could scarcely get a house to live in, nor could his wife get a servant. Shunned by his former friends, and threatened by his enemies, he knew not at what hour some new charge of sedition might be trumped up against him, and he be sent into exile a prisoner, as had already happened to one of his friends. His sons had already been driven from their positions and had emigrated to America. Thither he followed them in 1794. He was received with distinction at New York and Philadelphia, and at length joined his sons at Northumberland, a new set- tlement on the Susquehanna. Here he spent the last ten JOSEPH PRIESTLEY 367 years of his life, happy in the freedom of the New World, though even here he was calumniated from the pulpit and in the newspapers. In his new life he continued as of old to study, carried on his scientific experiments, and published books in defense of his views of religion to the very last. Winters he would go into Philadelphia where he often preached or lectured, and formed congenial friendship not only with scientists and scholars, but with eminent statesmen like Washington, Adams, and Jefferson, as he had previously done with Franklin in England. He died in 1804. Priestley was an extraordinary man, for the variety of his interests and the vast amount of work he acccomplished apart from his ministry. Not counting his scientific writ- ings, his works fill twenty-five large volumes, and cover a wide range of subjects. The world at large remembers him as a great ploneer of modern chemistry, and as almost the most famous scientist of his time; but to him the study of science was only an incidental recreation. Far more than this he loved theological study, and his chief delight was. to propagate Unitarianism. Of all subjects in the world he regarded religion as by far the most important; and his favorite occupation was the work of the Christian min- istry, which he declared to be the most important, useful, and honorable of all professions. He was a man of the most devout personal religion, and of unshakable trust in God; and despite all his sufferings he never wavered in his faith that God had ordered all for the best. Priestley’s theology was a singular combination of some views that even now seem pretty advanced, and that quite shocked the Unitarians of his own time when they were first expressed, and of others that liberal thinkers have long since left far behind. He denied the miraculous birth of Jesus, and believed that he was born at Nazareth, with 368 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the same physical, mental, and moral imperfections as other human beings, and that his character was only gradually formed and improved. At the same time he believed the miracles to be literally true, and attached to them the greatest importance as the very foundation of Christianity. He also looked for the literal fulfillment of Old Testament prophecies, and expected the second coming of Christ; and although he believed that the soul is a function of the body and dies with it, he believed that God will at the last day restore each soul to life by its own miraculous resurrection. Whatever he believed he preached out boldly and with- out apology or hesitation, defending and urging his views ably and fearlessly. This was in marked contrast with the practice of most preachers of his time, who were timid in speaking out what they thought, for fear lest the old law against blasphemy be revived. The example of this intrepid champion of free thought and free speech put courage into the hearts of the liberal Dissenters. He did much to break down Arianism among them; and as he boldly proclaimed Unitarian views and adopted the Unitarian name, and urged that the liberal Dissenting churches ought to accept it, many of them did so. He assisted in the formation of the earliest organizations for bringing the scattered and disunited liberal churches together for common effort. As their most active spokesman and writer he helped them to realize what they stood for as contrasted with the Church of England or the orthodox Dissenters. Thus he roused the slumbering body of English Unitarianism into active life, infused spirit and conviction into its members, and together with Lindsey deserves to be regarded as one of the two modern founders of the movement that exists to-day; the organization and life of which, during the nineteenth century, remains to be spoken of in the next chapter. CHAPTER XXXII ENGLISH UNITARIANISM IN THE NINE- TEENTH CENTURY Although our story of the Unitarian movement in Eng- land has already covered more than a century and a half since its first definite beginnings with Bidle, it has not yet reached any organized body of Unitarian churches. It has been a story on the one hand of a struggle for life in face of constant danger of oppression by the laws of the land, and of bitter opposition in the religious circles of both churchmen and Dissenters; and on the other hand of the steady deepening of a clear religious conviction that would not be crushed by oppression nor driven from the field by opposition. The nineteenth century brings us a happier story, in which we find the old persecuting laws against Unitarians abolished, civil rights won by them after long struggle, religious opposition to them losing much of its bitterness, and the movement becoming organized for effective service as a recognized part of the religious life of England. Three leaders stand out above all others in bringing this organization about. In the last two chapters we have spoken of two of these, of whom Priestley came from the liberal Dissenters, and Lindsey from the Church of Eng- land. The third member of the triumvirate came from yet a third source, the orthodox Dissenters, and was the first of them to resigm an important position for conscience’ sake and join the Unitarians. His name was Thomas Bel- 369 370 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE sham, and his great work was to lead in organizing the dis- united Unitarian congregations into a denomination that could act effectively for its cause, and to continue Priestley’s work as the organizer of its thought, its public spokesman, and its champion against attacks. Belsham was born at Bedford in 1750, the son of a Dissenting minister, and being designed for the ministry he was sent for his education to the academy at Daventry, where Priestley had studied a generation before him. In due time he entered the Independent (Congregational) min- istry, but although preaching more or less he was for nearly twenty years chiefly occupied as teacher in the academy. He was earnestly orthodox, though open-minded, examining both sides of questions and encouraging his pupils to do the same. So it came to pass that he first drifted from strict ~ Trinitarianism to the Arian views of Dr. Clarke, and later while studying Unitarian writings with the purpose of con- futing them, felt driven to accept Unitarianism himself, and adopted views much the same as those of Priestley. He therefore resigned his very important position as principal of the academy in 1789 and confessed his views at a time when, as he said, “a Socinian is still a sort of monster in the world.” Lindsey’s resignation had had only a limited effect among the Dissenters, but the example of Belsham, who had been held in great honor among them, had much influence in en- couraging them frankly to profess their liberal beliefs. Although he had resigned without other prospects in view, he was soon chosen teacher in the Unitarian academy at Hackney, where he was happy in intimate association with Lindsey, and later with Priestley; and when Priestley re- moved to America, Belsham succeeded him as one of the ministers of the Unitarian church. At length in 1805, upon UNITARIANISM IN THE 19TH CENTURY 371 the resignation of Dr. Disney, who had succeeded Lindsey at Essex Street Chapel, Belsham was called to that important pulpit. Here he preached until his death in 1829, winning great popularity and fame as a powerful preacher both on theology and on questions of the day, so that he soon came to be regarded, from both his abilities and his position, as the leader of those holding Unitarian views. A timid attempt had been made as early as 1783 to get the Unitarians to act together through a Society for Promoting Knowledge of the Scriptures, though it never flourished, and it accomplished nothing more than to pub- lish a liberal commentary ; but the society was not denomina- tional, for there was as yet no denomination for it to belong to. Belsham, however, earnest with the zeal of a fresh con- vert, proposed that some positive action be now taken to organize the scattered liberal forces for spreading Unitarian views. He was heartily seconded by Lindsey and Priestley, and thus in 1791 was formed the Unitarian Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge and the Practice of Virtue by the Distribution of Books (briefly called the Unitarian Society, or Unitarian Book Society). Belsham was not willing that the publications of the society should give any uncertain sound, and as he regarded the worship of Christ as sheer idolatry he drew up the constitution so as expressly to exclude Arians from membership. Some of them objected to this provision, but the result of this and other causes was that within a generation Arianism was pretty well eliminated from the Unitarian movement. The Arians had never organized as such, and from now on, though -some of them went back to orthodoxy, more and more of them accepted the strictly Unitarian views of Priestley and Belsham, until worship of Christ finally disappeared among the Unitarians. 372 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE This Unitarian Society of London proved so successful that it was soon followed by similar ones in each of the four quarters of the kingdom, and these in turn by many local tract societies. These all had an important influence in drawing the scattered liberal Presbyterian and General Baptist churches together in a common effort and sympathy, and in encouraging them to take the Unitarian name and support the Unitarian cause. It gave them the confidence and sense of united strength that is inspired by a common standard; and this had indeed become quite necessary for self-preservation in face of orthodox opposition. Many im- portant books and tracts were published and circulated, especially by the Book Society. Most noted among these was an Improved Version of the New Testament (1808). In this work Belsham took the leading part. It made many corrections in the text, and anticipated many of the changes later made in the Revised Version. It was accompanied by many notes on points involved in the Unitarian controversy, and although it was most bitterly attacked by the ortho- dox, it long served the Unitarians as an arsenal of scripture weapons. Many Unitarians of the day shrank from active public efforts for their cause for fear lest laws still sleeping on the statute-books should be roused against them, and some of them therefore opposed even the founding of the Book Society. Many others felt that this organization would surely suffice, for when men once had the Unitarian argument in print and read it, orthodoxy must silently and surely be undermined within a few years. Converts came, but too slowly. Not all would read, and not all who read were converted. Many remained whom the printed books, ser- mons, tracts, and periodicals did not reach. It was seen that unless Unitarians were to rest content to have their UNITARIANISM IN THE 19TH CENTURY 3738 lamp hidden under a bushel, personal missionary preaching needed to be done. One Richard Wright, a General Baptist preacher of humble origin, who had become converted to Unitarian views, had for fourteen years traveled about the north and east of England as a voluntary missionary of Unitarianism, and he found a ready hearing for his doctrine among the common people. At about the same time David Eaton, a Baptist layman of York, made the great discovery of Unitarianism, and believed that instead of remaining merely on the defensive, Unitarians ought to be as aggressive and as zealous for spreading their gospel by popular preaching as were the orthodox. He began to do lay preaching himself, and con- tinued to do so for many years, persistently agitating the while for the forming of a Unitarian missionary society. It was objected that the time was not ripe, that Unitarian- ism was not a religion for the common people, that orthodox opposition and perhaps even civil persecution would be stirred up, that lay preaching among the Methodists had run to scandalous excess and brought religion into ridicule. Lindsey, however, and some others sympathized with the idea, which gradually won approval; and after eight years of effort by Eaton there was founded in 1806 the Unitarian Fund for Promoting Unitariantsm by means of Popular Preaching (briefly called the Unitarian Fund). It was designed to aid poor Unitarian congregations, to support Unitarian missionaries, and to assist ministers who had suffered on account of becoming Unitarians. The missionary spirit now spread all over the country, and many local auxiliary societies were formed. Those who believed that Unitarianism would be acceptable only to the educated and wealthy of the upper classes discovered their serious mistake. Richard Wright was sent into the field 374 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE as missionary, and for years he traveled on foot all over England and Scotland, undergoing much hardship, meeting many exciting adventures, preaching in kitchens, barns, market-places, or open fields, wherever he could get people together, like a Unitarian Wesley. He thus preached in every county and every large town in England and Scot- land, and in many villages, won multitudes of converts, founded many Unitarian congregations of humble people, and strengthened many weak congregations already existing. While Wright was spreading his message broadcast, a popular Methodist preacher in northeast Lancashire, Joseph Cooke, came to hold heretical views, and was there- fore expelled from his church in 1806. He became the founder of Unitarian Methodism in that district, and about a dozen Unitarian Methodist churches resulted, which for some years had lay preachers and their own association, but at length were absorbed into the general Unitarian body under settled pastors. The missionary wave also flowed north into Scotland. There had already been a liberal stir there in the second half of the eighteenth century, as Robert Burns reveals in his “Kirk’s Alarm,” but Presbyterianism was strictly organ- ized there, and liberalism was held well in check. A Unita- rian church was, however, founded in Edinburgh in 1776, and one at Montrose in 1782, and later one in Dundee, by the Rey, Thomas Fyshe Palmer, who also preached in various other towns. But the movement was cut short when Palmer, who had joined in an agitation for political reform, got caught in the back-wash of political conservatism and was sentenced for sedition to seven years’ penal servitude at Botany Bay, whence returning home he was shipwrecked and perished on the way. In 1811, however, a strong per- UNITARIANISM IN THE 19TH CENTURY = 3875 manent movement was established in Glasgow, and the first Unitarian church building in Scotland was erected. The organization of the Unitarian Fund brought new spirit into the old churches, and by its successful missionary work soon surpassed the modest influence of the Book So- ciety. Closed churches were re-opened, weak ones were aided, more missionaries were sent into the field, and plans were made even for work in foreign lands. The results of these efforts were so widespread and the gains made were so rapid that whereas at the beginning of the century the Unitarians had been despised for their weakness, within less than twenty years they had become respected for their strength, and were viewed with alarm for the inroads they were making upon orthodoxy. In all this new movement Belsham played an active part. He was an able organizer, and had an eloquent voice and a powerful pen. Though naturally disliking controversy, when he felt bound to go into it he showed himself a doughty antagonist, whose blows smarted and stung, and his biting sarcasm did not spare even a bishop who deserved it. His clear handling of questions in controversy with the Church of England did much to prevent defections to it from the Dissenting churches. He ably vindicated Priestley and Lindsey from attacks made on them after they were dead, and in his more than fifty published writings he clearly stated and powerfully defended the Unitarian doctrines. Unitarianism meant to him a very clear and definite thing: the belief in one God in one person only, who alone may be worshiped ; and in Christ as in all respects a human being, whose miracles and resurrection prove him to be the chosen Messiah. Where timid Unitarians had hardly dared con- fess this belief, he proclaimed it boldly, and thus inspired them with boldness in standing by their convictions. 376 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE _ The open progress of Unitarianism at this period was not a little stimulated and encouraged in 1813 by the repeal of the part of the Blasphemy Act affecting them.t This law, which had been on the statute book since 1698, making Unitarians liable to loss of civil rights and to imprisonment, had from the first been practically a dead letter, and the crown had of late forbidden prosecutions under it; yet there was always a haunting possibility that it might again be enforced. An unsuccessful attempt had been made to get it repealed in 1792, but that was too near the time of the Birmingham riots for any concessions to be made to liberal Dissenters. Now, however, the repeal was accomplished without opposition, under the leadership of William Smith (grandfather of Florence Nightingale), a stanch Unitarian who had long been the champion of the rights of Dissenters before Parliament. Unitarians might now, after a century and a half, enjoy freedom of worship as a legal right, instead of having it merely winked at; but there were yet other rights to win before they had all those to which they should be entitled in a free country, and events soon showed them the need of carrying their struggle still further. For old laws still subjected them to various petty annoyances, and _ their property rights were endangered. The rapid progress they had made since the beginning of the century, and the vigor- ous speech of some of them in their attacks upon the ortho- dox system, had roused among some of the orthodox a spirit of intense antagonism against them, which only waited for an opportunity to make reprisals. The first clear sign of trouble from this quarter was shown at Wolverhampton, near Birmingham. The Presbyterian 1See page 289. UNITARIANISM IN THE 19TH CENTURY 3877 church which had existed there since late in the seventeenth century had, like so many others, gradually grown liberal, and was now frankly Unitarian, though still occupying the chapel built by an orthodox generation. In 1816 its min- ister announced that he had become a Trinitarian, where- upon an attempt was made to force his resignation. Much bitterness of feeling and action developed both for and against him. The orthodox took his part, and the next year went into court and sought to get the church property taken out of the hands of the Unitarians, on the ground that it had been intended only for orthodox worship. The suit was stubbornly fought on both sides and dragged on for many years; for it was realized that if the Unitarians lost this chapel they might also lose the greater number of all they occupied. Indeed, there were rumors of proceedings to this end being already started in various places. Their previous organizations had had only missionary ends in view; but it was now seen by the Unitarians that they must organize to defend their common interests at law. Hence in 1819 was founded yet another society, the Asso- ciation for the Protection of the Civil Rights of Unitarians. This was designed not only to defend their property rights but in various other ways to secure for them fuller civil rights; for there still seemed to be a possibility that bigots might have them prosecuted under the common law for blasphemy; while the Test and Corporation Acts still made it illegal for any Dissenters to hold public office.’ Further grievances were that marriage might be performed only by clergymen of the Established Church; births, marriages, and deaths might be legally recorded only in the parish registers of that church; Dissenters might not be buried in parish 1 See page 329n, 378 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE cemeteries except with the service of the Established Church ; and they were excluded from the universities and were taxed to support the Established Church. Although the Unitarians had long taken the lead in de- fending the public interests of the Dissenters, there were signs that from the orthodox they might now expect oppo- sition rather than support of their own claims, so that they must needs act independently in their own behalf. The struggle for full equality of rights was long and hard fought. That for repeal of the Test and Corporation Acts lasted for over ninety years, and it was not until the fifth attempt in Parliament that they were finally repealed in 1828. The other rights were then secured one after an- other until last of all in 1871 all tests for degrees or fel- lowship were abolished at the universities. In time it came to be realized that the common interests of Unitarians could be promoted by a single comprehensive organization better than by several separate ones, and such an organization was urged from 1819 on, until at length in 1825 was formed the British and Foreign Unita- rian Association, which at once, absorbed the Civil Rights Association and the Unitarian Fund, and a year later the Book Society. From this time on, English Unitarian- ism, now efficiently organized, entered upon more effective work and greater activity as a denomination. Missionary enterprises were pushed with increased vigor. The Rev. George Harris during twenty years carried on an aggressive mission in the north of England and in Scotland. In Glas- gow he drew immense audiences and won great prominence for the Unitarian faith, while elsewhere in Scotland he had over forty preaching stations, and was known by the ortho- dox as “the Devil’s chaplain.”” Foreign work was also un- dertaken. Communication had already been established in UNITARIANISM IN THE 19TH CENTURY 379 1822 with the Unitarians of Transylvania,' and it has been kept up to this day. Churches were organized at Gibraltar (1830) and at Paris (1831), and a missionary sent to India (1831) established a church and school at Madras. Such aggressive life aroused orthodox hostility at home, and bitter attacks were made on the Unitarians, and resulted in some notable controversies, in which the Unita- rians generally acted on the defensive, replying to attacks made on them, appealing to Scripture for support of their doctrine, and trying as far as possible to keep the discus- sion within the bounds of courtesy. Great public interest was taken in some of these discussions, which took place in various parts of the country. Thus Belsham in London had maintained the Unitarian doctrine of Christ; Dr. Lant Carpenter at Bristol had defended the Unitarian doctrine of the atonement and the Improved Version (1820) against the unfair attacks of Dr. (later Archbishop) Magee; the Rev. James Yates at Glasgow had defended Unitarianism (1815- 1817) against the attacks of the Rev. Ralph Wardlaw in a controversy which filled four or five volumes; the Rev. John Scott Porter held at Belfast (1834) a four days’ public debate on Unitarianism with the Rev. Dr. Bagot; while the three Unitarian ministers at Liverpool in thirteen sermons ably defended their doctrines against the massed attack made on them by thirteen clergymen of the Church of Eng- land (1839). These controversies indicate how dangerous the orthodox thought Unitarianism was becoming, and they not only won some Unitarian converts, but did yet more to rally the Unitarians themselves to their cause, and to con- firm them in their faith. The most serious of these controversies in its results upon 1 See page 270, 380 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the Unitarian movement was one which arose at Manchester in 1824, At a public dinner of the Unitarian congregation one of the speakers made some remarks upon orthodoxy which were reported in the newspaper and were indignantly resented by the orthodox, who at length determined to re- taliate in a way that would not easily be forgotten. Ever since the beginning of the Wolverhampton Chapel case they had been casting envious*eyes on the Unitarian properties, and waiting for the time to come when these might be seized by process of law. Sectarian zeal now stirred them up to carry out their design, in a law case which became very famous. One Dame Sarah Hewley of the Presbyterian congrega- tion at York had in 1704 and later left certain trust funds to found charities for “poor and godly preachers of Christ’s holy gospel” and others. As the Presbyterian churches grew more liberal these funds had gradually drifted into the hands of Unitarian trustees, and the income had to a con- siderable degree been used for the support of Unitarian ministers. The Independents now set about to get control of these funds, and in 1830 brought suit to have the Unitarian trustees removed, maintaining that Unitarians had no right to the use of the old Presbyterian properties, since these had been originally intended for orthodox use at a time when Unitarianism was illegal. The Unitarians maintained on the other hand that as no orthodox lmita- tions had been specified none was intended. The case was stubbornly fought, and appealed from court to court, the decisions running steadily against the Unitarians, until finally it was decided by the House of Lords in 1842 that no trust might now be used for any purpose which was illegal at the time when the trust was established. The Unitarian trustees were. therefore removed, and the trust UNITARIANISM IN THE 19TH CENTURY = 381 was placed in the hands of trustees from the three orthodox Dissenting denominations. The decision of the Lady Hewley case, as it was called, formed the most critical day in the history of English Unitarianism. The Wolverhampton Chapel case, which had been held back awaiting the decision of the Lady Hewley case, was now decided in accordance with it. The Unitarians lost their chapel there, but as it eventually fell into the hands of the Church of England, the orthodox Dissenters got no benefit of it. While these cases were pending in England, similar litiga- tion in Ireland had deprived the Unitarians of a chapel and a fund there; other suits were in progress, and there was danger that they might lose all their chapels in Ulster. No further suit had yet been brought in England, but as the orthodox had declared their intention of attacking all the old Presbyterian chapels and endowments, two or three hundred lawsuits were in prospect or talked of, and there was acute danger lest over two hundred chapels which the Unitarians had occupied for three or four generations, to- gether with the churchyards where their dead were buried, and their schools and charitable funds, should be taken from them, and only a score or so of mostly small churches be left to them. | | It was realized that no escape from their fate could be had except through a special act of Parliament. The government was therefore induced to bring in the “Dis- senters’ Chapels Bill,” in 1844, which provided that congre- gations should henceforth remain undisturbed in the posses- sion of chapels which they had occupied for twenty-five years. The bill was strenuously opposed and _ petitioned against by most of the Bishops, and by the Congregation- alists, Methodists, and orthodox Baptists; but other peti- 382 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE tions were made in favor of it, and it received the power- ful support of the government of Sir Robert Peel, and of Lord John Russell, Lord Macaulay, and Gladstone, and was carried. by about three to one, to the great indignation of its orthodox opponents. The bitterly fought contests which had now dragged on through the courts for years so greatly aggravated any previous unfriendly feeling between Unitarians and orthodox that in 18386 all but one of the Unitarians, who for over a century had as Presbyterians belonged to the organization of Dissenting ministers in London, felt bound in self-respect to protest against the action of the orthodox majority by withdrawing from the union. Thus the last bond was severed that held together the three wings of the old Dissent. This long struggle of nearly thirty years had so much absorbed the interest and the energies of the young de- nomination that its progress had been much slowed down for nearly a generation; yet some gains had been made, as when an Influential group of liberal Presbyterian churches in Ireland joined the movement.* And now the passage of the Dissenters’ Chapels Act opened the door for new hope, confidence, and zeal in the churches, which after a few years began to be shown in various ways; for from 1844 dates a new era. A new fund was raised to replace the lost Lady Hewley Fund; new missionary societies were founded ; and although some small village churches were lost, many new congregations were established, especially in the large manufacturing towns of the north, and in London. Old congregations increased in size; new chapels were built and old ones repaired; churches were planted in the colonies; 1See page 341. UNITARIANISM IN THE 19TH CENTURY 383 a new divinity school * was established ; work was undertaken among the poor of the large cities. A second group of Methodists in the north of England joined the denomination, followers of the Rev. Joseph Barker, who in 1841 had been expelled from the Methodist New Connexion for heresy. While these external struggles and changes were going on, the denomination was also ripening its inner spirit and settling its thought. Priestley and Belsham, who for half a century had led the thought and greatly influenced the religious life of the denomination, while men of deep and sincere personal religion themselves, were led to lay their greatest emphasis on matters of belief and on opposition to orthodoxy; and in consequence the cultivation of the re- ligious feelings had been much neglected. Their religion seemed more of the head than of the heart, and many of the churches of their followers were deemed cold and unspiritual. This defect was early realized, and before the nineteenth century was a third gone the influence of Channing coming from America began to lead English Unitarians in another direction; while the subsiding of the controversy with or- thodoxy soon after left the Unitarians more free than they had ever yet been to develop and nourish an independent religious life. The leader in this change of spirit was James Martineau,” 1The Unitarian Home Missionary Board (later named College) at Manchester, 1854, now the Unitarian College of Manchester. 2James Martineau, born at Norwich 1805, was educated as a civil engineer, but to the great blessing of his church and of religion in his time he soon changed his career and prepared for the ministry. He preached at Dublin, 1828-1832, at Liverpool, 1832-1857, where he bore the leading part in the celebrated controversy over Unitarianism in 1839 (see page 379), and in London, 1859-1872. At the same time he was professor in the divinity school then known as Manchester New College 1840-1885 (Principal from 1869). He published several vol- 38-4 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE who began as a follower of Priestley, but after coming to give religion a different interpretation, was for forty-five years the teacher of many of the most influential ministers of the denomination and the molder of their thought. Un- der his guidance English Unitarians gave up their slavish reliance on texts of Scripture, and aimed first of all to have their beliefs reasonable; they ceased to attach im- portance to miracles, even if they continued to believe in them; and they came to regard Christ as wholly a man, and Arianism became practically extinct among them. Some re- garded these changes with alarm, and in 1865 an attempt was made to set up a Unitarian creed to keep such develop- ments from going further; but the attempt was defeated. In 1867 also Martineau attempted through a Free Christian Union to draw together liberal spirits in the various re- ligious bodies; but the orthodox would have little to do with it, and it was short-lived. A like attempt made by some liberal Congregationalists at the Congregational Union meet- ing in 1871, to open the way for association between them and the Unitarians, was defeated by a large majority, and has not since been renewed. Since the middle of the nineteenth century the history of English Unitarians has been one of wholesome and steady, though slow and uneventful progress. It has lost in some directions, but gained more in others. Minor organizations have grown up to supplement the work of the national As- sociation, in most cases taking advantage of the experience of American organizations formed a few years earlier. umes of memorable sermons, and some great works on theology, and was the most eminent Unitarian theologian of the nineteenth century. Celebrated alike as preacher, thinker, and teacher, and honored by the universities of five countries, he laid Christians of all denominations under obligation for his able support of their common Christian faith. He died in London in 1900. UNITARIANISM IN THE 19TH CENTURY — 385 Unitarians have borne an influential and honorable part in the life of the nation. Far out of proportion to their numbers they have been represented in Parliament, and dis- tinguished in liberal politics, social reform, philanthropies, education, science, and literature.t Besides the burdens common to all Dissenters, they have had to bear the addi- tional one of being opposed by all the orthodox Dissenters. If this double burden has somewhat retarded their progress, it has on the other hand intensified their loyalty to their cause. The beginning of the twentieth century found them consisting of about 860 churches in the British Isles, and about a dozen more in the colonies—a number since then somewhat increased. 'They have long since ceased to en- tertain their youthful hopes that within a generation or two all England must see the truth as they see it; but on the other hand it is realized more clearly than ever that they have a distinct contribution to make to the religious life of England, without which that life would be poorer. They are doing their part intelligently and earnestly, and they look forward to a future of steady growth and of ever greater usefulness to Christian civilization. 1 Besides persons mentioned in the text it may be enough to men- tion these distinguished Enplish Unitarians: Sir Charles Lyell the geologist; Sir William Jones the orientalist; William Roscoe the his- torian; Josiah Wedgwood the potter; Sir John Bowring the states- man; Professor W. S. Jevons the logician; David Ricardo the econ- omist; Erasmus Darwin the scientist; Mrs. Barbauld, Mrs. Gaskell and Maria Edgeworth, women of letters; John Pounds, founder of ragged schools; Florence Nightingale and Mary Carpenter, philanthro- pists. ; sti ae Te ee IN SS hha: ea Ae ¢4-.4 aed pe - , , . 1% ‘ Me Nae c et wri 1? Se t i! j a ’ © " a kt A #) tc¥ a7 vf R . > oF. ' 4 a u ‘ hy : ; , , , (bast 8 , a ee 44 H . - 5 ' s : ne bye sent eee Pee eee Rae: Sian 2 Si ‘ 7 } u , 3 y } a. - pee iy eee ’ vie ye t 1 ihe ; = _ rae = a a4 1 , oa 7 . v 7 P : era) 7 ’ m! ' 7 i : - f c ; ‘ ‘ , ere ae av : an ane Ki Fi = - 4 = : * ‘ 3 oe ie ‘ ' 4 Loy —4 eng ae Ses HON ge tg a aoe vce « ' i y . 7? p ve atin y. ; : y , u = . 4 j ' > ¥) - y t , i 7 3 : i. ; ~ 2 Z i* r = ‘ ; : : i 1 7 * ri - ¥ P ‘ ia ? r . f i . < “{ 4 : y ‘ n a ve . ¢ ef Ps ‘ foe ; i? \ q ye i ‘ Ruf ts bf? pia.) Tle ae a ? ' -_ ; fe 4 - t ‘ P - : § ’ 4 ’ , 7 i ¥ ; y Cer, ! ‘x | . os be Be & ; <8 ot Malar A iy Tr F ’ ae at we hi 7 “ a? . 7 . ae 1 hi ‘ 4 - 4 > a ate by Fy i 2 * i iP eee ‘ ‘ . ¢ hie a | elaicl\” Lab 4 at y m . ti | ¥ Pa ’ : ‘ 49 hd “ E ‘ ‘ Ft ote ¢ . {) re Se. 3 : Pun ed Wiehe Rete he t 7 . ied f 2%) os f ‘ jal ‘ i ; ( hes a ‘ee ' | > epee ‘ — Sy . i eA4y¢ i : ’ 4 A ? f ‘ * 7 SS ‘ a i ‘ ve 43 j PY.) . , 3 4 ‘ 4 ‘ o 7 si, ‘ . z + ‘ Ay 5 ~ ‘ ' s a il ie ' j ‘ r , “7 yk ‘ a \ “Ei i ‘ vy) Te gt Py : Bh cate bah aa 3 5 ' es 4 s - \ rr? aay dy ye ‘ee *t ‘ > ae a ” 4 7 De, ‘ / a. 1 Yt i i We Ge d a — as is it | » P i ri) n pet i A oeP AM oh ‘ 1a 4 2 i wdse $ ‘ty Pl . i f ‘ oT 9 si , ‘ ee ae DIVISION VI UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA CHAPTER XXXIV THE BEGINNINGS OF UNITARIANISM IN AMERICA, 1750-1805 Thus far we have followed the story of the Unitarian movement on the Continent from its organized beginnings about 1565, and in England from the gathering of the first avowedly Unitarian church in 1774. The movement in America, however, did not begin to take a form distinct from orthodoxy until something like two centuries and a half after the first antitrinitarian churches were organized in Poland and Transylvania, and not until well over forty years after Lindsey began to preach in London. It would be natural to expect, therefore, that American Unitarianism would as a matter of course prove to be simply an outgrowth of these earlier movements across the Atlantic; yet this does not appear to have been the case. It is true that two Polish Socinians are said to have been among the earliest immigrants from England to the new colony of Georgia;* but no trace has been discovered of them or of their influence there. In fact, the only American church in which anything like direct Socinian influence may have been felt is one organized in 1803 on the frontier of the wilderness in central New York,” by two liberal exiles from Holland—a church which later on adhered to the 1 About 1738. See page 190. 2 At Oldenbarnevelt (later Trenton, now Barneveld), by the Rev. Francis A. van der Kemp and Col. A. G. Mappa. 389 390 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Unitarian movement. No Socinian books were in the libraries of Harvard or Yale before the nineteenth century, and there is almost no evidence that such books reached America at all until the Unitarian movement had become well launched here. Nor, close as was the connection between the mother country and the colonies, was American Unitarianism to any large extent an importation of that in England. Though the Episcopal King’s Chapel in Boston had fol- lowed Lindsey’s example in revising its Prayer Book in 1785, and though Priestley soon after his arrival in America had organized two Unitarian churches of the English sort in Pennsylvania, yet the liberal American churches shrank from going as far as these had gone, and were little influ- enced by them. Only one English antitrinitarian work was reprinted in America in the eighteenth century, and that was the only mildly Arian Humble Inquiry by Emlyn. Few if any English Unitarian books were in the Harvard library before 1800, and the works of Priestley and Lindsey were as yet read only by the most daring; for, as we shall see, few of the New England clergy had any sympathy with their views. The roots of American Unitarianism go much further back into English religious history; so that the English and the American movement are related to each other not as mother and daughter, but as aunt and niece, since both trace descent from a common English ancestry early in the eighteenth century. This, however, is not to deny that the aunt had some influence in finally shaping the character of the niece. The Unitarian movement in America, then, was largely native to American soil; and as the Socinianism of Poland and the Unitarianism of Transylvania sprang up in the Reformed churches, and as English Unitarianism first de- BEGINNINGS IN AMERICA 391 veloped mainly in the Presbyterian churches, so in New England it was in the Congregational churches that American Unitarianism first arose. Indeed, many of the older Unitarian churches of Massachusetts still retain their original Congregational name. These New England churches had had a twofold origin. The Pilgrim church at Plymouth and its neighbors in that colony were Separatists.'. Their earliest members had so- journed in Holland when Socinianism was just coming to make some impression there, and they must have imbibed some of the Dutch spirit of religious toleration; and while they would doubtless have opposed Socinian doctrines with heart and soul, yet from their first settlement in 1620 they showed a tolerant spirit which made progress easy when the time should be ripe. The churches of Boston, Salem, and the Massachusetts Bay Colony in general, on the other hand, were founded by Puritans of the period when the Puritan party still remained within the Church of England. Yet the great distance from the mother country practically forced these churches too to enter a separate existence al- most from the start, and thus the churches of both colonies were Congregational by 1629. The belief of these churches, was Calvinism of the strict- est sort, and it was long before the slightest tendency toward Unitarian views could have been detected. For many years only church members had the right to vote, and heresy laws, aimed, however, at Catholics and Episco- palians, Baptists and Quakers, existed until the time of the American Revolution.” In fact, universal belief in the doc- 1 See page 287. 2The Colony of Virginia made Unitarianism a capital crime; and while Lord Baltimore in 1634 tolerated Protestants in general in Maryland, Unitarians there were legally punishable with death, 392 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE trines of the Westminster Confession was so much taken for granted that it was not demanded even upon joining the church, and members were usually admitted upon as- senting to a simple, undogmatic covenant, or promise to lead a Christian life. The covenant of the church at Salem, the first Congregational church to be formed in America, may serve as anexample: ‘We covenant with the Lord, and one with another, and do’ bind ourselves in the presence of God, to walk together in all his ways, according as he is pleased to reveal himself unto us in his blessed word of truth.” The result was that when the old beliefs gradually fell away, it was not necessary for the churches to make any change. The same covenant could still be used as before, and in some of the churches it is used to this day; while in many of them the change was so gradual that it is impossible to say just when they ceased to be orthodox and became ,/ Unitarian. It was not until heresies became a source of real danger that creeds were imposed upon members, in order to keep the churches pure in doctrine. Strict in belief as the churches had been, they were not able long to keep their first intensity of faith. Within a generation beliefs began to grow lax, as some of the early liberal books from England were received and read, and as people compared the teachings of Calvin with those of the Bible. Thus in 1650 William Pynchon, one of the founders of Springfield, published a little book protesting against Calvin’s doctrine of the atonement. The General Court was scandalized, and ordered that the book be burned in the market place at Boston, and that a refutation be pub- lished by one of the ministers. Pynchon was called to ac- count and, though he may have escaped the heavy fine 1m- posed, he soon afterwards thought it safer to return to England. A little later it was complained that there were BEGINNINGS IN AMERICA 393 Arminians and Arians in the colony. Calvinism was begin- ning to break down. It was not until the eighteenth century, however, that the matter began to look serious. Echoes of the controversies in the Church of England ! over the doctrine of the Trinity were reaching Massachusetts; and the works of Sherlock and South, Whiston and Clarke, Tillotson and Emlyn found many readers, and influenced not a few. The Arian con- troversy at Exeter and in Ireland? was also heard of with solemn apprehension. Cotton Mather, leader of the Puritan clergy, lamented that Whiston and Clarke were being so much read; and the North Church at Boston took measures to guard its pulpit from Arminians, Arians, and Socinians. Two of the clergy were suspected, and charged with being unsound on the Trinity or the atonement. Graduates at Harvard proposed to prove that the Trinity is not taught in the Old Testament, and appeared to have the sympathy of the faculty. English Arians were in correspondence with the Massachusetts clergy, and their books and views kept slowly spreading. Sermons of the time were often in defense of the Trinity, the deity of Christ, or the doctrines of Calvin, which were considered in danger. ‘‘Arminian- ism” was found to be in the air—a vague term, applied to any manner of departure from strict Calvinism; and before 1750 over thirty ministers were known as having become unsound in the faith. A little before the middle of the eighteenth century oc- curred a religious movement which caused the beginning of a split in the churches. The Great Awakening, one of the most remarkable revivals of religion in Christian history, began in western Massachusetts under the preaching of the 1See Chapter XXIX. 2See pages 335 f., 339-341. 394 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Rev. Jonathan Edwards, who must still be reckoned as perhaps the greatest theologian America has produced, al- though later generations have insisted on remembering him chiefly for the lurid way in which he preached the terrible fate of “sinners in the hands of an angry God.” The re- vival spread far and wide, continued for several years, and excited attention even in England. The consequence was that in 1740 the Rev. George Whitefield, a young English revivalist of the most extraordinary eloquence, was invited to come to New England to preach. Everywhere he went he preached to crowds too great for the churches to hold them, and on Boston Common, it was estimated, to more than 20,000 at one time. Together with all the good that re- sulted from it (from 25,000 to 40,000 were said to have - been converted), the revival was marked by great emotional excitement, intense fanaticism, narrow bigotry, and extreme Calvinism. These things became worse under preachers who followed Whitefield. People of education and refine- ment were scandalized, and many of the leading clergy felt bound to oppose the revivalists and their methods. It was no wonder, for Whitefield had spoken of the New England clergy as “dumb dogs, half devils and half beasts, spiritually blind, and leading people to hell.” He so bitterly attacked Harvard and Yale Colleges for their growing liberality, that when he made a second visit four years later they op- posed him as uncharitable, censorious, a slanderer, deluder, and dreamer, and did not invite him to preach before them again. The pulpits of many churches also were closed to him, and for this he bitterly criticized their ministers. This reaction from the Great Awakening cost Edwards his pulpit ; while many independent thinkers in pulpit and in pew set their faces against the strict Calvinism which he and Whitefield had sought to revive. ‘There was as yet no con- BEGINNINGS IN AMERICA 395 troversy about the Trinity, but the orthodox doctrine of the atonement was increasingly criticized, ““Armininianism” was on the increase, and there was a growing demand for more simplicity, reason, and tolerance in religious beliefs. The works of the English liberals, both Anglican and Presby- terian, were widely read and in good repute; and though to counteract their influence Edwards wrote two of his most powerful works, he could not stem the tide that kept steadily undermining Calvinism. In 1756 an anonymous “Layman” at Boston had Emlyn’s Humble Inquiry reprinted, and challenged any one to disprove its Arian teachings from the Scriptures if he could. It was the first antitrinitarian book published in America. In the following year liberals in New Hampshire went so far as to revise their catechism and soften down its Calvinism. From now on until the Revolutionary War the doctrine of the Trinity was more and more called in question. Of course there was as yet no Unitarianism in America, or hardly even in England; but Arian views were becoming fairly common. As early as 1758 the Rev. John Rogers of Leominster was dismissed from his pulpit for disbelieving in the divinity of Christ, and several replies to Emlyn’s book had been sent forth. Ten years later orthodox ministers were complaining that the divinity of Christ was even being laughed at as an- tiquated and unfashionable, and was neglected or disbelieved by a number of the Boston ministers, and that the heresy was rapidly spreading. Out of this ferment of religious thought before the Revolu- tion four names rise above others as leaders in our movement —Arians, not Unitarians, yet rightly to be regarded as the advance heralds of the Unitarian movement, and hence deserving especially to be remembered. First of these is Dr. Charles Chauncy, minister of the First Church, Boston, 396 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE for sixty years, 1727--1787. As a patriot he was ardent for the cause of the colonies, and as a minister he had led the opposition to Whitefield and his revivalism. His favorite authors were the English liberals, he corresponded with English Arians, and he was one of the first in America to preach against the doctrine of eternal punishment. A bolder thinker and writer was Dr. Jonathan Mayhew, min- ister of the West Church, Boston, from 1747 to 1766, for his outspoken stand against all oppression called “‘the father of civil and religious liberty in Massachusetts and America.” Even at the beginning of his ministry he was known for so much of a heretic that the Boston ministers would not assist in ordaining him, and they never admitted him to their Association. He went his way little heeding, corresponded with English Arians and read their books, with pungent phrases held up the doctrines of Calvinism to scorn, expressed his doctrinal views without disguise or timidity, opposed the use of creeds on principle, preached against the Trinity in 1753, and two years later urged in print the strict unity of God. As he was the first preacher in America to come out squarely in speech and in print against the doctrine of the Trinity, and as his people heartily supported him, and as all his successors in the pulpit held similar views, it may fairly be said that the West Church was the earliest church in America to abandon Trinita- rianism. Another minister who during his unparalleled pastorate of almost seventy years at Hingham had great influence in spreading liberal views in a quiet way was Dr. Ebenezer Gay. Although he did not come out boldly like Mayhew, who had studied under him and been influenced by his in-. timate friendship, he strongly opposed the use of creeds, BEGINNINGS IN AMERICA 397 and is said to have ceased to believe in the Trinity by soon after the middle of the century. The same is said of his neighbor, the Rev. Lemuel Briant of North Braintree (now Quincy). Briant had graduated from Harvard at seven- teen, was a bold and fearless thinker, expressed himself with vigor, and was an intimate friend of Mayhew. While yet in his twenties he preached against Calvin’s doctrine a sermon of great boldness, which made him a marked man, and brought upon him many attacks. He was charged with being not only Arminian but Socinian, and his opponents had a council of churches called to consider the complaints against him; the final result of which was that his church, after investigating the case for themselves, supported him strongly. This was in 1753, and is the first clear case of a church formally taking the liberal position. Though the doctrine of the Trinity was not involved in this action, the church at Quincy ever afterwards remained on the liberal side. | Though the conservatives regarded them with grave ap- prehension, the liberal views of these and other ministers were well known, and no particular attempt was made to conceal them. They were simply the progressives in the Congregational Church, in which there was as yet not the remotest thought of a division, though liberal views were progressing rapidly and spreading far. The American Revolution for a time checked the progress of the movement by diverting men’s thoughts from question of theology to those of patriotism, though even then, with orthodox vigi- lance against heresy for a time relaxed, influence came from an unexpected quarter. For Priestley and Price,’ the latter a strong Arian, and the former by now a decided Unitarian, 1 See Chapter xxxii, and page 355, 398 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE were outspoken in behalf of the colonies, and so to a less marked degree were Lindsey and many of the liberal Eng- lish Dissenters ; * and along with their political writings their religious works were brought over from England, and were the more attentively read as being the words of friends of America. Although they went too far for most of the New England liberals, on a few of them they produced a lasting impression; and thus they advanced the outposts of the liberal movement yet further. Thus far, as we have noted, none of the Congregational ministers or churches was Unitarian, or would have been at all willing to go further than Arianism. Hence it happened that the first American church to take a distinct position and make its belief and form of worship positively Unita- rian was not Congregational but Episcopal. King’s Chapel, Boston, established in 1686 as the first Episcopal church in New England, found itself at the end of the Revolution without a minister, or any hope of securing one from Eng- land. It therefore invited a young layman, James Freeman, in 1783 to conduct its worship, and to preach when in- clined. The views of Samuel Clarke? were widespread in America, and the Athanasian Creed had never been popular here, so that from the start Freeman was given leave to omit it. It was at about this time that an Episcopal clergy- man of Salem, when asked why he still read the Creed if he did not believe it, replied, “I read it as if I did not believe it.” Indeed, when the American Episcopal Church came to organize after the Revolution, it was at first proposed thoroughly to revise the Prayer Book, omitting among other 1 At least three of this group were made Doctors of Divinity be- fore or during the Revolution by the orthodox colleges of Brown, Princeton, and Yale, 2 See page 325, BEGINNINGS IN AMERICA 399 things both the Nicene and the Athanasian Creeds; and there was for a time a prospect that this would become the liberal Church of America.’ It was not long before Freeman began to feel uneasy about other parts of the liturgy, especially those relating to the Trinity. He reported his difficulties to his people, and proposed to resign. ‘They asked him rather to preach a series of sermons on the subject, and the result of his doing so was that most of them accepted his views. An English Unitarian minister, William Hazlitt, who was at that time visiting Boston, gave him much light, and showed him a copy of Lindsey’s revised Prayer Book; and not long after- wards the proprietors of the Chapel voted to follow Lindsey’s example, and omitted from their liturgy all references to the Trinity, and all prayers to Christ.” Thus in 1785 King’s Chapel, though it did not become Unitarian in name, became in fact a Unitarian church nearly a generation before other liberal churches in New England would own that name or adopt really Unitarian views. Freeman had not meant to withdraw from the Episcopal Church, a considerable number of whose clergy sympathized with him; but he could now find no bishop willing to seem to approve his course by ordain- ing him, and hence he had to be ordained as a minister by his own congregation in 1787. Upon this, other Episcopal clergymen in New England went as far as they were able toward excommunicating him, and thus his relations with their church came to an end. He later had an active cor- respondence with Priestley, Lindsey, and Belsham, and cir- culated their works; but though some of the more liberal 1The Nicene Creed was retained in the Prayer Book as finally adopted in 1786, because the English bishops insisted on that before they would consecrate bishops for the new Church; but the Athanasian Creed was abandoned by almost unanimous desire. See page 315n. 2The Apostles’ Creed was not omitted until 1811. 400 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE ministers sympathized with him, he had little immediate effect upon the liberal movement in the Congregational churches. At almost the same time a clear movement toward Unita- rian views was taking place at Salem. This town was largely devoted to commerce with India, and most of the men in the three oldest parishes were connected with the foreign trade. Their contact with high-minded men in the Orient made them disbelieve Calvin’s doctrine that human nature apart from Christ is totally depraved, and thus they were prepared for more liberal teaching. In this direction they readily followed the lead of their ministers. Of these, the Rev. John Prince of the First Church, like Priestley much given to scientific experiments, read and circulated English Unitarian books. Like him, Dr. Thomas Barnard of the North Church avoided controverted doctrines in his pulpit; but when one of his orthodox parishioners observing this said to him, “Dr. Barnard, I never heard you preach a sermon on the Trinity,” he promptly replied, “No; and you never will.’ The Rev. William Bentley (Freeman’s college class- mate) of the East Church was more outspoken. From the beginning of his ministry in 1783 he sympathized with the views of Priestley and other English Unitarians, and he openly preached them in 1791, earlier than any one else in New England except Freeman; and his church was prac- tically Unitarian almost as early as King’s Chapel. The influence of English Unitarianism was also felt in Maine. In 1792 the rector of the Episcopal Church at Portland, having become convinced by the writings of Priestley and Lindsey, sought to reform its liturgy as Freeman had done; and when influential persons opposed this, the majority of the congregation withdrew with their rector and formed a separate Unitarian church, which continued for several years, as did a similar movement at Saco. BEGINNINGS IN AMERICA 401 At Boston the movement proceeded more slowly. While the ministers there had generally given up much of their Calvinism, they liked the teaching of Priestley perhaps even less; for they were not Unitarians, as the term was then understood, but Arians, since they still looked upon Christ as a divine being far above man, inspired of God, sinless, and an object of religious faith. However, the doctrines of the Trinity and the deity of Christ were being called in question more and more. The trinitarian doxology was falling out of use. Emlyn’s book was again reprinted, and made new converts. Dr. Belknap of the Federal Street Church issued in 1795 a hymn-book which omitted all trinita- rian hymns. Confessions of faith, and doctrinal examina- tions of ministers at their ordination, began to be opposed and disused. There was no religious controversy, for the lib- erals would not allow themselves to be drawn into one, and they themselves avoided preaching on disputed points; yet by the end of the century only one minister at Boston, only two in Plymouth County, and only three in eight of those east of Worcester remained trinitarian; while at Harvard College all the talented young men were said to be Unita- rians, and orthodox views were said to be generally ridiculed. It began to look as though Massachusetts Congregational- ism were to become a simple, undogmatic form of faith, which laid little stress upon creeds, and left each person free to be as liberal as he pleased, while all together strove to cultivate reverent, positive Christian character. The conservatives, however, were not willing to have it rest thus, but wished to lay strong emphasis upon the doctrines which their fathers had held. Even before the Revolution warning voices had begun to be raised against departing from the old faith, and from about 1790 they had grown more frequent. A new revival of Calvinism broke out, like 402 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE a belated echo of the Great Awakening, and with much the same sort of result. For its fresh insistence upon the Trinity and the deity of Christ only made many realize how far they had departed from these doctrines, as the former revival had made them realize how far they had departed from the sterner doctrines of Calvin. The liberal cause now gained strength faster than ever before, and feeling fresh assurance the liberals began to reprint more English books to spread liberal views, to print new ones of their own, and to introduce hymn-books without the familiar trinitarian hymns and doxologies. In another quarter also the early Universalists were attacking the doctrine of eternal pun- ishment, and their leader, the Rev. Hosea Ballou, published in 1805 a Treatise on the Atonement which was (unless we except the brief reference in Mayhew’s book’) the first by an American writer to deny the doctrine of the Trinity. Liberal views of Christianity seemed everywhere to be in the air. The movement also spread into Connecticut, although here it was soon checked because the churches there, unlike those in Massachusetts, were organized into “‘consociations,” which had the power of deposing a minister whose beliefs were not considered sound, even though his own congregation might wish to keep him.” Hence when the Rev. John Sher- man of Mansfield, who had adopted the views of Priestley and Lindsey, made them known to his people, he was prac- tically forced to leave them although they desired him to stay. This led him to publish in that same year (1805) a book on One God in One Person Only, which was the first full defense of Antitrinitarianism to come from an Ameri- 1See page 396. 2 Unitarianism also disqualified one for public office in Connecticut, and abridged his rights in the courts. BEGINNINGS IN AMERICA 403 can writer. Removing to the western frontier the next year, he became the first minister of the liberal church at Oldenbarnevelt, N. Y., which has been already referred to.’ Five years later his friend, the Rev. Abiel Abbot of Cov- entry, also fell under suspicion of heresy, and was similarly forced from his parish. With one exception, that of Brooklyn (1817), these are the only churches in Connect- icut in which Antitrinitarianism gained any footing at the time when it was rapidly spreading in Massachusetts; and those who felt oppressed by the strict orthodoxy of the Con- gregational churches mostly sought the freer fellowship of the Episcopal Church. In Pennsylvania, Unitarianism started quite independ- ently of the liberal movement among the Congregationalists in Massachusetts. In 1783 the Rev. William Hazlitt, an English Unitarian minister who had strongly sympathized with the colonists during the late war, came to America hoping to find a settlement. It was he that encouraged Freeman in the action he took at King’s Chapel.* Though he failed to find a pulpit, and had at length to return to England, he preached at various places from Maryland to Maine, including Philadelphia, where he found a number of English Unitarians living and in 1784 reprinted a number of Priestley’s tracts. These doubtless helped pave the way for a church there. When Priestley reached America in 1794,° though he was heartily welcomed as a distinguished man of science and friend of America, his religious opinions were dreaded, and he was nowhere invited by the ministers to preach save at Princeton. Even from the liberals at . Boston no word of welcome came to him in his exile. He 1See page 389. 2See page 399. 3 See page 366. 404 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE found, however, many not connected with the existing ortho- dox churches who would have welcomed Unitarian preach- ing. He was thus invited to establish a church at New York, and for a time he cherished a scheme for getting min- isters sent out from England to gather congregations there and at Philadelphia. Upon settling at Northumberland he founded a church in 1794, which must be called the first in America both to hold the Unitarian faith and to bear the - Unitarian name.t| Many English Unitarians came to Amer- ica soon after the Revolution, and there was a considerable group of them at Philadelphia, where they had made an un- successful attempt to settle a minister of their faith in 1792. In 1796, however, while Priestley was visiting there he en- couraged them to organize a church which should hold ser- vices with lay preachers. The members were all English Unitarians, mostly young men, and they maintained lay ser- vices with some interruption until they were able, in 1812, with the aid of English friends, to erect the first Unitarian church building in America.? Their first regular minister was not settled until 1825. In New England after the Revolution liberal tendencies in the Congregational churches kept steadily growing. Thus at Worcester in 1785 the liberals in the First Church withdrew and formed a new society with Aaron Bancroft, then an Arian, as their minister. At Taunton in 1792 the orthodox withdrew and formed a new church because the First Church was controlled by liberals. In Plymouth a 1 Karly in this same year an English layman, John Butler, held re- ligious services at New York, and a Unitarian church is said to have been organized; but after three months he fell ill, and no more is heard of it. 2 When the church was incorporated in 1813, the junior minister of King’s Chapel strongly urged them not to use the obnoxious name Unitarian, but they did not regard the advice. BEGINNINGS IN AMERICA 405 similar division took place in 1800. At Fitchburg two years later his strong Calvinism caused the dismissal of the Rev. Samuel Worcester, later to become a leading opponent of the Unitarians. Nevertheless in most places the liberals could not easily be identified as such, for they had engaged in no controversy, had formed no party, and had neither platform, policy nor leader. Though they no longer ad- hered to the old Calvinism of their fathers, they agreed upon hardly any new position except disbelief in the Trinity. Generous toleration of difference in beliefs existed; and although, in order to keep liberal views from spreading fur- ther, some of the churches now began to require their mem- bers to assent to orthodox creeds, except for a few such in- stances as have been named above, the two wings of the Con- gregational Church still livea together in harmony as of old. This was the situation at the end of the eighteenth century ; but the nineteenth century was still very young when this peace was destroyed by a period of sharp controversy of the conservatives against the liberals, which was to divide the Congregational Church, and to force the Unitarians to form a separate denomination. That unhappy story will form the theme of the next chapter. CHAPTER XXXV THE UNITARIAN CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA, 1805-1835 The last chapter told how during more than half a cen- tury the Congregational churches of Massachusetts were slowly and almost imperceptibly growing more liberal in belief. During much of the time the conservatives noted this fact with growing apprehension, though they were able to point to little or nothing definite enough to furnish a point for attack; for the liberals were content to let the old beliefs fade away without notice, and preferred to confine their preaching to the essentials of practical Christianity as shown in life and character. It was not until 1805 that an event took place which convinced the conservatives that their fears that the churches were becoming honeycombed with heresy were but too well founded; and this event took place not in any church, but in Harvard College. The college had been founded by the Puritans in 1636 primarily to train up educated ministers for their churches ; and among its endowments was one given in 1721 for a pro- fessorship in divinity. The donor, a liberal English mer- chant named Thomas Hollis, whose intimate friends and advisers had been on the liberal side of the Salters’ Hall controversy,’ had provided that the incumbent should be “of sound and orthodox” belief; while a supplementary legacy for the same chair required explicit acceptance of a conserv- 1 See page 336. 406 | CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 407 ative creed. In 1803 this chair fell vacant, and for more than a year no election was had because the liberals and the conservatives, being evenly balanced, could not agree upon a candidate. The liberals favored the Rev. Henry Ware of Hingham; while the orthodox, charging that he was a Uni- tarian, opposed him. The opposition was led by Dr. Jedidiah Morse ' of Charlestown, who had for fifteen years been the sole public defender of the doctrine of the Trinity in the vicinity of Boston, and who now insisted that a Cal- vinist should be chosen. At length the liberals gained the majority and elected Ware in 1805. This showed that the liberal party were now in control of the college, and the fact was soon further emphasized by the appointment of a hberal president and several liberal professors. The orthodox, thoroughly aroused at finding their worst fears realized, and seeing that henceforth their young min- isters were to be under not orthodox but liberal teachers, now opened what might be called a “thirty years’ war,” which was to end in one hitherto united church being divided into two sects bitterly opposing each other. Dr. Morse founded the Panoplist magazine, in which he carried on an aggressive warfare against the liberals, attacking them in- cessantly, and urging them, if they disbelieved in the Trinity, to come out and say so openly. ‘Though their views had long been well enough known, and had not been concealed, they did not accept his challenge. Dr. Morse next exerted himself to establish at Andover a theological seminary which should remain forever orthodox, for its constitution required 1 He deserves to be remembered as “the father of American geog- raphy,” and as father also of S. F. B. Morse, inventor of the electric telegraph. After his narrow Calvinism had led nearly half of his congregation to withdraw and form a liberal church in 1815, the rest of them tired of him and let him go; while his son later became a radica] Unitarian, . 408 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the professors every five years to renew their subscription to a creed which was perpetually to remain “entirely and identically the same, without the least alteration, addition, or diminution.”* The Andover Seminary was opened for instruction in 1808, and henceforth became the chief place for the training of orthodox ministers; while in 1821 an orthodox college was also founded at Amherst to offset the liberal tendencies of Harvard. Already in 1802 the conservative ministers, led by Dr. Morse, though in the face of strong opposition, had sought to strengthen the cause of orthodoxy by forming a General Association on the basis of the Westminster Catechism, thus excluding liberals. This was really the beginning of the split between them. Two years later an unsuccessful at- tempt was made to force the liberals out of the ministers’ state convention. In 1807 when Samuel Willard of Deer- field, having been refused ordination by one council on ac- count of his liberal views, was ordained by another, he and his church were outcast by all their orthodox neighbors. In 1808, when John Codman was settled over the Second Church in Dorchester, he began by announcing that he would not exchange pulpits with men of liberal views. This was the first move in Massachusetts toward that “exclusive policy” which had already been urged in Connecticut two years before, and which ere long became general among the orthodox, and has largely continued down to this day. At 1 With the lapse of time this creed became a burden too heavy to bear. Some of the professors refused to keep on signing it; others were prosecuted for having forsaken it. After the failure of such a prosecution in 1890, the creed came to be practically ignored; and in 1908, after exactly a hundred years of separate existence, the Seminary removed to Cambridge and entered into alliance with the Harvard Divinity School, which, as the nursery of Unitarian ministers, had for- merly been its chief rival. Finally in 1922 the two schools were merged into one on an unsectarian basis. CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 409 Boston the next year the orthodox took a strong aggressive step by organizing the Park Street Church, whose minister, by preaching a sermon “On the Use of Real Fire in Hell,” won for the location of his church the name of “Brimstone Corner.” In individual congregations also lines were being more closely drawn. Some of the churches tried to shut out heresy by adopting elaborate confessions of faith for their members to accept, and thus paved the way for sad divisions a little later. In case of contest the side out-voted would sometimes separate from the majority. Thus at New Bed- ford in 1810 the conservatives withdrew and formed a new church. At Sandwich, where the minister, having grown strongly Calvinistic, was dismissed from his parish by a small liberal majority in 1811, he organized a new church among his followers. In 1813 a liberal minority withdrew from Codman’s Dorchester church and organized a new one. Other such instances occurred within the few years follow- ing. At the same time, liberal views were spreading faster than ever in the Congregational churches, and English Unitarian books were reprinted in Boston in increasing number, and were widely read. ‘The Rev. Noah Worcester, a country minister of New Hampshire, influenced by Emlyn and other English writers, published in 1810 a little book called Bible News, which was Arian. For this his brother ministers bit- terly attacked him, maligned his personal character, and caused him to lose his pulpit; but he at once found friends among the liberal ministers of Boston, served the liberal cause well, and later won enduring fame as the founder of the peace movement in America. As for the liberal ministers, although by 1812 there were at least a hundred of them, only Freeman at King’s Chapel 410 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE and Bentley at Salem were really Unitarian in belief. Of the rest only one or two had ever preached a sermon against the Trinity; and while they had generally ceased to hold that doctrine, yet they had not reached any wide agree- ment as to other points. They knew indeed that they had pretty well outgrown their Calvinism, and they acknowl- edged only the authority of Scripture; but their main em- phasis was on the practical virtues of Christian life, and their main opposition was to narrowness of spirit and bond- age to creeds, while for the rest they advocated Christian charity, open-mindedness, and tolerance. They were most of them Arian in belief, and so strongly opposed to what was then known as Unitarianism that when it had been charged that Professor Ware was a Unitarian, the charge was indignantly resented as a calumny. In fact, they did not regard themselves as heretics at all, for they knew that their views were widely held both in the Church of England and among the English Dissenters. The Congregational Church was still broad enough to hold both conservatives and liberals; and of the nine old congregations at Boston eight had grown liberal, while the ninth remained orthodox by only the narrowest margin. All the while that things were in this uncertain state, Dr. Morse in the Panoplist kept calling on the liberals to admit that in important respects they had departed far from the faith of their fathers. They stedfastly refused to accept his challenge, for they disliked controversy, and they had no mind to champion special doctrines or to be set off into a separate party. They stood on their rights as free mem- bers of Congregational churches, and did not feel under any obligation to report to Dr. Morse or ask his leave. But now something unexpected occurred which forced the issue. Three years earlier Belsham in London had published CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 411 a life of Lindsey. It contained a chapter on the progress of Unitarianism in New England, quoting letters from Dr. Freeman and others giving an inside view of the liberal movement at Boston, and reporting that most of the Boston clergy were Unitarian. Dr. Morse at length discovered the book in 1815 and promptly reprinted this chapter, giving it the title, American Unitarianism. It created a tre- mendous sensation, and ran through five editions in as many months. Dr. Morse’s charge seemed to be proved true: the liberals were Unitarians after all. The Panoplist followed up the exposure in a severe review, charging that the lib- erals were secretly scheming to undermine the orthodox faith, and were hypocrites for concealing their true beliefs ; and that the orthodox ought therefore at once to separate from those who, since they denied the deity of Christ, could not be considered Christians at all. The name Unitarian stuck, as Dr. Morse meant that it should, for it was then an odious name, and it has stuck ever since; but it was not fairly given. For the writers of the letters referred to had used it simply to denote disbelief in the Trinity ; while as then commonly understood it meant such beliefs as those of Priestley and Belsham, who held that Jesus was in all respects a fallible human being, together with certain philosophical views which were abhorrent to the Boston liberals. The Panoplist, however, insisted that they were Unitarians in Belsham’s sense of the word. The liberal ministers of Boston were outraged at such misrepre- sentation of their views, and they felt that the slander must not be let pass without responsible denial. The answer was soon forthcoming in the form of an open letter to the Rey. Samuel C. Thacher of the New South Church, from his friend, the Rev. Wiliam Ellery Channing. Though Channing was but thirty-five, he had been for a dozen years 412 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the beloved and honored minister of the Federal Street Church, and of late had come to be regarded as the leader of the Boston liberals; and he was destined at length to be the most distinguished of all American Unitarians. Though a semi-invalid, he had a remarkable charm of voice, manner, and character. In his earlier ministry he had been a mod- erate Calvinist, had been on friendly terms with Dr. Morse, and had preached the sermon at Codman’s ordination; but he had never believed the doctrine of the Trinity, and had never made a secret of his views. He held that Christ, though less than God, was far above man, a sinless being, and the object of religious trust and love. In short, he was an Arian. Always shrinking from controversy, Channing could yet speak out strongly when he must; and in this letter he now indignantly denied the Panoplist’s charges. He admitted that his brethren disbelieved in the Trinity, and in that sense alone were Unitarians; though they preferred to call themselves liberal Christians, or rational Christians, or catholic Christians; while they were wholly out of sympathy with the views of Priestley and Belsham, and were nearer to the Calvinists than to them. Most of them were Arians, some were not clear as to their views, and hardly one could accept Belsham’s creed, though to believe with him was no crime. Their views had not been concealed: Dr. Morse and others had long known them. But the disputed doc- trines had been kept out of their pulpits as unprofitable, and had been treated as though they had never been heard of. Such was his answer; and in conclusion he urged that it would be a great wrong to Christianity, and a great injustice to individuals, to create a division in the church by shutting any out of it as not Christians simply because they held more liberal views of scripture teaching than did the others. CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 413 The controversy was continued on the orthodox side by Dr. Worcester of Salem, whose two brothers had already suffered persecution in New Hampshire for their Arianism,’ and who was himself doubtless still smarting over his own dismissal from his Fitchburg church.*? Three letters were published on each side, and several other writers also took a hand in the discussion. Dr. Worcester picked flaws in Channing’s letter, pressed the Panoplist’s charges, and urged that the differences between the orthodox and the liberals were too serious to be longer ignored, and that the two must part company. Channing replied that in the essential part of Christian faith, which was that Jesus is the Christ, they were agreed, and that any minor differences did not vitally matter. The controversy ran for half a year, and ended in the opening of a permanent breach between the two wings of Massachusetts Congregationalists. The orthodox were made more than ever determined in their attitude; while the Unitarians (as they were henceforth known) began to abandon their policy of reserve and to speak out plainly also against other doctrines of Calvinism, and their views spread accordingly. Before and during this controversy Dr. Morse and his strict Calvinist friends were steadily trying to get the Massachusetts churches to form “‘consociations,”’ with power to depose heretical ministers as Sherman and Abbot had been deposed in Connecticut.? But both liberals and mod- erate Calvinists resisted this plan as dangerous to liberty of conscience, so that after some years’ effort the scheme was dropped. In an increasing number of churches,. how- ever, creeds were adopted to keep heretics from becoming 1See page 409. 2See page 405. 3 See page 402 f. 41 4 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE members, and in a few cases where the orthodox could not control the situation as they wished, they withdrew and formed separate churches. More and more of the orthodox ministers also refused to include in their list of monthly pulpit exchanges any who were suspected of being Unita- rians ; so that while there was still, indeed, but a single de- - nomination of Congregationalists, its two wings were stead- ily drawing further apart. Thus things went on for a few years, with the orthodox getting further away from the liberals, though with hope of reconciliation not yet wholly despaired of, until two events occurred which proved de- cisive. ‘These were Channing’s Baltimore sermon in 1819, and the decision of the Dedham case in 1820. We must speak of these in turn. After the controversy of 1815 the orthodox kept treating the Unitarians in the Church with such increasing narrow- ness, and kept attacking their beliefs with such increasing bitterness, that at length Channing, peaceable as he was, felt bound to strike a telling blow in return. The oppor- tunity to do so came in 1819, when he was asked to preach the sermon at the ordination of Jared Sparks as minister of the church lately established at Baltimore, the first exten- sion beyond New England of the liberal movement in Massa- chusetts. In this sermon he boldly took the aggressive against the orthodox, taking up the distinguishing doctrines of Unitarians one by one, showing that they were sup- ported by both Scripture and reason, and holding up to pitiless attack the contrasted doctrines of orthodoxy in all their nakedness. Probably no other sermon ever preached in America has had so many readers and so great an influence. It put the orthodox at once on the defensive. They complained that Channing had misrepresented their beliefs and had injured their feelings by his harsh state- CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 415 ments. Professor Moses Stuart of Andover wrote a whole book to defend the doctrine of the Trinity against Chan- ning’s attack, though in it he admitted that he did not know clearly what the doctrine meant; and he even brought upon himself from a Presbyterian source the charge that he too was tending toward Unitarianism. Channing himself said no more, but Professor Andrews Norton of Harvard re- newed the attack upon the Trinity with such effect that the orthodox withdrew on this point, and were content to lay their emphasis henceforth upon the deity of Christ. Professor Leonard Woods of Andover now came to the defense of the other doctrines which Channing had attacked, and debated them back and forth with Professor Ware of Harvard for three years, in a printed controversy which ran to over eight hundred pages. This ‘“Wood’n-Ware controversy,” as it was called, was carried on in fine spirit on both sides, and it made clear that even the orthodox had drifted further away from the old doctrines than they had yet acknowledged or realized. Nevertheless they continued to pursue more widely than ever their policy of exclusion of Unitarians and separation from them; while the Unitarians, who had had their views so clearly stated and so ably de- fended by Channing, now first fairly realized where they stood, and rallied to their standard with enthusiasm. The division between the two wings had become practically complete. In the unhappy division that took place at this time, con- gregations were split in two, and even families were divided against themselves. But the question now arose, whose should be the church property when Unitarians and orthodox drew apart? This was the question involved in the Dedham case. In order to understand the matter, one must remem- ber that in the Massachusetts towns there had long been 416 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE two religious organizations. The “parish,” or “society,” consisted of all the male voters of the town organized to maintain religious worship, which they were bound by law to support by taxation. The ‘“‘church” on the other hand consisted only of those persons within the parish (generally a small minority) who had made a public profession of their religious faith, and had joined together in a serious inner circle for religious purposes, and were admitted to the ob- servance of the Lord’s Supper. The church members were on the whole (though not exclusively) more devout and more zealous than the rest of the members of the parish, and a large majority of them were usually women. Now by law a minister must be elected by vote of the whole parish which supported him; but by natural custom it had come to be generally expected that he must also be acceptable to the church, even if not nominated by it. For generations church and parish had generally agreed; though if they did not, means were provided for settling the matter through a mutual council. But when the controversy arose between the orthodox and the Unitarians, disagreements became fre- quent and often serious; and in many cases it happened that while the majority of the church members wished to settle a conservative from Andover, the majority of the parish would prefer a liberal man from Harvard, and usually no way of compromise could be found. This was the situation at Dedham, where the pulpit fell vacant in 1818, and the parish voted two to one to settle a liberal man, while the church by a small majority voted against him. As the parish refused to yield, a majority of the church withdrew and formed a new church, taking with them the church property, which was in this instance nearly enough to support the minister. A lawsuit followed, to de- termine which was the real church, and which might hold CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 417 the property, the majority of the church who seceded from the parish, or the minority who stayed init. The case was bitterly fought, and the Supreme Court of the state at length decided in 1820 that seceders forfeited all their rights, and that even the smallest minority remaining with the parish were still the parish church, and entitled to the church property; indeed, that if even the whole church should secede it must still leave the church property behind it. This legal decision, which would of course apply to any similar cases arising elsewhere, aroused among the orthodox a storm of indignation so deep and bitter that it has hardly subsided after a hundred years. They declared that the judge, being a Unitarian, was prejudiced in favor of his own party; and for many years they continued to cry out against the injustice of the decision, and against what they insisted was “‘plunder” of their churches. The orthodox losses as the result of the divisions that took place were indeed severe. In eighty-one instances the orthodox members seceded, nearly 4,000 of them in all, thus losing funds and property estimated at over $600,000, not to mention the loss of churches which went to the liberal side without a division; and they had to build new meeting- houses for themselves. They called themselves “the exiled churches”; but while there were cases in which the liberal majority oppressed the minority and meant to force them out, the latter most frequently seceded because they were © not permitted, though often but few in number, to impose a minister of their choice upon the large majority of those who attended the church and supported it by their taxes, but to whom he was not acceptable. Nor were the losses all on one side. ‘There were at least a dozen cases, first and last, in which it was the liberals that seceded, rather than listen to the preaching of doctrines which they believed 418 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE to be untrue and harmful. There were happily many others in which there was no division. Of these the larger number remained orthodox, but thirty-nine became liberal without division, and often so quietly and gradually that no one could have told when the invisible line was crossed. Among these latter were twenty out of twenty-five original churches, including all the most important ones. In only three of the larger towns of eastern Massachusetts did the parish remain orthodox, and at Boston only the Old South. In several cases the whole church withdrew in a body; in others only one or two members were left. At the end of the controversy a few over a third of the Congregational churches of Massachusetts were found to have become Unitarian. Although churches kept on separating until as late as 1840, the greater number of divisions took place in the years immediately following the Baltimore sermon and the Dedham case decision. The Unitarians were thenceforth, against their wish, a separate denomination from the rest of the Congregationalists. They found themselves consist- ing of 125 churches, mostly within twenty-five miles of Boston, though with a few distant outposts at New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washington, and Charleston. In eastern Massachusetts they had for the time won a sweeping victory. The ablest and most eloquent ministers, the lead- ers in public life, in education, in literature, were theirs, as were the great majority of those of wealth, culture, and high social position. In fact, they had quite too much prestige for their own good, since they now seemed as a church to have little more to strive for. The truth is that it was not so much Unitarian doctrines as Unitarian freedom that had attracted many of them. Hence, while broad in spirit, strongly opposed to sectarianism, and _ liberal, CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 419 though vague, in their beliefs, they were yet conservative in almost everything else. But they were generally reverent in temper and were earnestly devoted to pure morals and good works. The consequence of all this was that they now set- tled back complacently, and showed far less zeal in promot- ing their cause than did the orthodox; fondly believing that without any particular effort on their part Unitarianism would ere long sweep the whole country as it had already swept eastern Massachusetts. The orthodox, on the other hand, were for a time stunned, and in acute fear of losing the whole struggle, in which the Unitarians had made steady gains since 1815. Their champion, Dr. Morse, had gone; their organ, the Panoplist, had suspended publication. A strong recruit for their cause, however, now came from Connecticut, where the spread of Unitarianism had thus far been so successfully prevented. Dr. Lyman Beecher, known as the most suc- cessful revivalist of his time, and as a powerful and eloquent preacher of tremendous earnestness, had with eager interest long watched the battle from afar when in 1823 he came to Boston to hold revival meetings. He soon revived the faint- ing spirits of the orthodox. They began to make fresh converts, and many of the wavering were won back from the Unitarian camp. Thus the orthodox reaction began. When those ministers and churches that had accepted Unitarian beliefs found themselves quite excluded from re- ligious fellowship with those that held to the old beliefs, it became a serious question what they should do. Shut out from the orthodox organizations, should they form a new denomination, or should they go on separately with no at- tempt to hold together or to act together for the interests they had in common? The older leaders were much dis- posed to go on as they were, and were opposed to forming 420 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE a new denomination; for they had of late seen quite too much of the evils of sectarianism, and they wished no more of them. The younger men had less fear and more zeal, real- izing that, if they were to do anything at all to help spread Christianity in the newer parts of the country, they must unite for the purpose; while if they did nothing in the matter they would be simply abandoning the new field wholly to orthodoxy and to beliefs which they felt to be untrue and hurtful. In that case, liberal Christianity might become extinct within a generation. ‘Since the beginning of the century, indeed, four or five organizations had been formed to promote the spread of Christianity in various ways, in which, though they were quite unsectarian, only the liberals had taken part; and half a dozen publications, notably The Christian Register, weekly (1821), and the Christian Examiner, quarterly (1824), had been founded, in which the liberals had ex- pressed their views, and had carried on controversy with the orthodox. But now that separation had come it was felt that something more was needed. It was ten or twelve young ministers lately graduated from the Harvard Divinity School that took the lead in the matter, and after long discussion and much opposition joined with a few laymen who shared their views, and in the vestry of Dr. Channing’s church organized the American Unitarian Association,’ “to diffuse the knowledge and promote the interests of pure Christianity.” Dr. Channing gave only passive approval to the move, and declined to be President of the new Associa- tion. Boston Unitarians generally were lukewarm. Dur- ing its first year only sixty-five of them joined the Associa- 1 There were two meetings, May 25 and 26, 1825. Some weeks passed before it was discovered that on May 26, by an extraordinary coin- cidence, Unitarians in London had organized the British and Foreign Unitarian Association. See page 378. CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 421 tion, and only $1,300 was raised to carry on its work. Yet it set to work with energy and skill, began publishing Unitarian tracts and circulating them in large numbers, and sent a scout into the West who came back reporting many promising fields where Unitarian churches would be heartily welcomed. Missionary preachers were sent afield, a mis- sionary to the city poor was employed, a Sunday-school Society was organized (1826), and especial efforts were made to spread Unitarian literature. Yet so afraid were the churches of losing some of their liberty in the bonds of a new sect, that for twenty-five years only from a third to a half of them would contribute to the work of the Association, which thus had only from $5,000 to $15,000 a year to spend. Its work could grow but slowly until the timid conservatism of an older generation could be replaced by the missionary earnestness of a younger one. Dr. Beecher’s revival meetings at Boston in 1823 had re- vived orthodoxy for a time; but it was still on the defensive, and now the Unitarians had organized for aggressive effort. Beecher was glad therefore to accept a call to a church just established in Hanover Street, which had been organized on a basis designed to prevent it from ever calling a liberal min- ister. Coming to Boston to live in 1826 he at once began a revival which lasted. five years. It often crowded his church, and it stirred up the drowsy Unitarians to unaccus- tomed activity. He took a bold aggressive stand, attacking Unitarian beliefs as unscriptural, and the results of them as unfavorable to true religion. Some years before this a Pres- byterian clergyman preaching at Baltimore had declared that Unitarian preachers were “most acceptable to the gay, the fashionable, the worldly minded, and even the. licentious” ; and another in New York had charged that religion and morals had alarmingly declined, and vice had increased at 422 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Boston since the spread of Unitarianism there, and he had insinuated that even the Unitarian ministers were men of loose morals and little piety. Dr. Beecher did not venture to go so far as this; but he and those that followed his leadership repeatedly charged that the effect of Unitarianism was to make its followers less earnest in their religion, less faithful in their religious habits, and less strict in their moral standards. It was declared that they had been steadily giving up one doctrine of the Christian faith after another, until little was now left. As their views of the inspira- tion of the Bible were changing, it became common to call Unitarians infidels; while it was often charged, and as often denied, that by accepting the doctrine of the Universalists they were encouraging men to sin by taking away their fear of eternal punishment. Perhaps the charge that hurt the Unitarians most, and had the most truth in it, was that whereas the orthodox were deeply in earnest about their religion, zealous, self- denying, and full of missionary spirit, the Unitarians were lukewarm, often indifferent to their church, lax in religious observances, and opposed to missions. Indeed, the first Treasurer of the American Unitarian Association felt these things so keenly that he resigned his office in discouragement and went back to orthodoxy. This became the occasion of a pamphlet controversy which attracted much attention on both sides. Although the Unitarians preferred to meet the 1The early Universalists, by denying any future punishment what- ever, had seemed to be dangerous to good morals by removing the chief ground for living a right life here. They were also Trinitarians, and on various grounds most Unitarians held them in abhorrence, and long kept aloof from them. They soon abandoned the doctrine of the Trinity, but it was a long generation before the Unitarians by gradual steps had ventured generally to deny eternal punishment. The two denominations have long since been closely alike in thought. CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 423 passionate zeal of the orthodox with easy-going self-confi- dence, they could not remain silent under such attacks as these. They returned blow for blow, calling attention to the most repulsive doctrines of Calvinism, until at length Dr. Beecher was driven to admit that he too had abandoned various doctrines held sacred by the fathers, and in his “new Calvinism” had thus taken the same steps which the earlier liberals had taken two generations before. Dr, Channing in particular felt compelled again to come to the defense of Unitarianism in a dedication sermon preached at New York in 1826, in which he compared the effect of the doctrines of Unitarianism with those of or- thodoxy, held that Unitarian Christianity was most favor- able to piety, and likened the orthodox doctrine of the atonement to a gallows erected at the center of the universe for the public execution of a God. This sermon created a sensation second only to that at Baltimore, and was never forgiven him by the orthodox. The controversies that filled the next six or eight years now became more bitter than ever before. To keep these alive and push them vigorously Dr. Beecher helped found a new periodical, the Spirit of the Pilgrims, to take the place of the Panoplist. Quarrels be- came angry and personal. Charges of bigotry, and unfair- ness, insincerity, hypocrisy, and falsehood, were freely made on each side, and many things were said in the heat of controversy of which the authors ought to have been, and no doubt afterwards were heartily ashamed. Bitterness was aroused which still survived after two generations. A church dedication, an ordination, or an anniversary was seized upon as the occasion for one side or the other to proclaim its views. Whatever might be said or printed was closely scanned for some point of attack; the worst things that could be found said by some hasty spirit on one side 424 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE would be held up in triumph for criticism by the other in the pamphlet war that would follow. The parties often mis- understood and sometimes misrepresented each other, and would spend page after page in picking at petty flaws and inconsistencies, until at length peaceable souls grew dis- gusted with the whole business and resolved to cease from the fruitless strife. For the whole sad quarrel had done much harm and little good to those who engaged in it, and to true religion. The only clear result of it all was that the orthodox became more fixed in their orthodoxy, and the Unitarians more convinced of the truth of their heresy. The fiercest quarrels of all arose over divisions in local parishes. Of these, that at Groton in 1826 was perhaps the most noted. The aged minister of the parish asked for a colleague, and an orthodox candidate was heard. The church, consisting of only some thirty voting members out of a parish of three hundred, called him by a vote of seven- teen to eight; but the parish, which had grown liberal by three to one, would not approve the choice. The question was whether so small a minority should be allowed to im- pose upon so large a majority a minister who was dis- tasteful to them. The orthodox withdrew, with much bit- terness of feeling and complaint of injustice, and formed a new church. In the heated contest over this case Dr. Beecher took a leading part. In the First Parish at Cam- bridge the minister, the venerable Dr. Abiel Holmes (father of Oliver Wendell Holmes), joined the orthodox re-action which Dr, Beecher was leading so vigorously, and ceased to exchange with liberal ministers as he had previously been accustomed to do. Two-thirds of the church supported their minister in this action, but three-quarters of the much larger parish insisted that exchanges be continued as before. Neither party to the controversy would yield or compromise, CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 425 and it ended with the dismissal of Dr. Holmes in 1829. At Brookfield in 1827, when a liberal majority of the par- ish settled a Unitarian minister, all the male members of the church but two withdrew, excommunicated those two and claimed the church property; but the two members remaining organized a new church, went to law, and re- covered the property, as in the Dedham case. At Waltham in 1825 every member, male and female, of the church seceded from the parish, took their minister with them, and formed a new church and society. There were many other cases similar to these, though less conspicuous. These controversies had not died down before a yet more heated one arose over the subject of exclusiveness ; for as the orthodox regained strength and confidence they grew in- creasingly exclusive against the Unitarians, until they at length denied them the privilege of their turn in preaching the annual sermon before the state convention of Congrega- tional ministers to which both belonged. Indeed, there were thought to be signs that they meant to close against the Unitarians everything in church and state. A young or- thodox preacher aroused much attention in 1828 by as- serting that though Unitarians formed no more than a fourth of the population of the state, they monopolized public offices, controlled nine-tenths of the political power, and influenced legislation and court decisions in their own interest and against the orthodox; and he called upon or- thodox voters to remember these things when voting at elections. Once more, and for the last time, Channing now entered the lists in a memorable sermon before the Legis- lature (1830) on Spiritual Freedom. He charged that or- thodoxy was using all its power in the way of bigotry and persecution to suppress freedom of thought in religion by raising the cry of heresy, and that this was in effect a new 426 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE Inquisition; and he uttered a strong protest against such a spirit. The orthodox replied that these charges were not true, and that it was they that had cause to complain of being ridiculed by the Unitarians; that they were given no share in public offices and honors, and no positions at Harvard University. Professor Stuart called upon Chan- ning to withdraw his charges or prove them. Channing him- self made no reply, but one of the younger ministers pub- lished a whole volume of evidence that for a generation the orthodox had tried in every way to oppress the liberal party in their churches. Here the matter rested, for the fires of controversy had nearly burnt themselves out. Most had grown weary of it and disgusted with it. The final act was at Salem in 1833, where an orthodox minister in a public address attacked Unitarians with personal abuse of a violence hitherto unknown, calling them ‘“‘cold-blooded in- fidels.” But the controversy had lost its leader with the departure of Dr. Beecher ' from Boston in 1832, followed by the suspension of the Spirit of the Pilgrims the next year. The separation of Church and State in Massachusetts in 1834 removed the occasion for further controversy over the property rights of churches. Moreover, the orthodox were becoming involved in a doctrinal controversy within their own body, so that probably every one concerned was glad of an excuse to cultivate peace. The separation of the two bodies was now complete beyond hope of reconciliation. The last exchange of pulpits had taken place. The two denominations went their different 1It is interesting to note that though Dr. Beecher had been the leading champion of conservative orthodoxy against Unitarianism, he himself had to stand trial a few years later for heresy; and that three of his seven sons, all of whom were ministers, were well known for their liberal views and that one of his grand-daughters became the wife of a Unitarian minister, Edward Everett Hale. CONTROVERSY IN AMERICA 427 ways, the Unitarians with about one hundred and twenty- five churches,! the orthodox with some four hundred. The orthodox had moved further than they fully realized from the teachings of Calvin; and the Unitarians further than they realized from their original ground. Without being aware of it, they were already depending much more on reason in religion than on the Bible, and in their views of the nature of Christ had gone far toward the position of Priestley and Belsham. But though they had now settled their final account with orthodoxy, they had even more serious accounts to settle with themselves. Those will form the subject of the next chapter. 1 But the Universalist movement which had been growing up at about the same time, the Hicksite movement among the Friends from 1827 on, and the Christian Connection in the West, made the total number of churches which had abandoned orthodoxy in the whole country much larger than this. CHAPTER XXXVI AMERICAN UNITARIANISM TRYING TO FIND ITSELF: INTERNAL CONTROVERSY AND DEVELOPMENT, 1835-1865 When their long controversy with the orthodox had at last come to an end, the Unitarians found themselves but poorly equipped for carrying on an efficient and healthy life as a religious denomination with a distinct mission of its own. Their organization for promoting their common in- terests, though now ten years old, was still weak and in- efficient, and had fallen far short of winning the support of all their churches. Nor had the progress of their thought gone much beyond the stage of merely dropping a few of the most objectionable doctrines of Calvinism. In their churches were many who were there merely because they were opposed to orthodoxy, but who had no positive and strong convictions in religion, and no earnest devotion to its principles. Many who had been bold defenders of Unitari- anism so long as it was attacked, relapsed into inactivity now that the war against it seemed to be over, thinking that its work was done, and that liberal religion would hence- forth spread fast enough of itself, without any personal effort of theirs. Most of the rank and file, and many of even the leaders, were content to settle down and enjoy in peace the liberty they had won, with no desire for further progress in thought or in organization. This chapter will try to show how the denomination was gradually roused out 428 éd INTERNAL DEVELOPMENT 429 of this torpor, at length began to think and act for itself, and after struggling for thirty years at last found itself, realized its mission, and began to gird itself for its proper work in the religious life of America. The American Unitarian Association had been formed as a volunteer organization of a few individuals, who hoped in time to enlist the support of the whole denomination in a common cause; but they were long disappointed in this hope. At a period when the orthodox churches were full of reviv- ing life and missionary zeal, and were giving generously for their own work though comparatively little for outside causes, the Unitarians, while giving with great liberality for hospitals, colleges, and all manner of charitable and philanthropic work, were giving pitifully small sums to spread their own religious faith.t In the first year of the Association only four of the churches contributed to its funds; and though the number of these steadily increased, after fifteen years scarcely more than a third of the churches known as Unitarian were doing anything for the organized work of their denomination. Several of the largest and wealthiest of the Boston churches gave it nothing at all. They shrank from sacrificing the least of their freedom by joining any organization, they did not care to build up a new denomination, and they disliked even a denominational name. As late as 1835 the minister of the First Church in Boston stated that the word Unitarian had never yet been used in his pulpit. It was nearly ten years before the Association was able 1 It is doubtful whether there has ever been a year since the Associa- tion was founded in which some individual Unitarian laymen (often several individuals) did not give to education or philanthropy more, often many times more, than the whole denomination was giving for its common work. A single such person is known to have given to benevolent objects $150,000 a year for ten successive years, 430 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE to employ a paid Secretary. Nevertheless those that be- lieved in it kept faithfully ahead, and its work and influence grew steadily if slowly. For fifteen years or so its efforts were devoted mainly to spreading the faith through printed tracts. These were issued generally once each month, and were circulated at the rate of 70,000 or more a year, and they were eagerly read by multitudes who had never heard Unitarian preaching. Whenever the funds allowed, preach- ers were sent on missionary journeys through the West and South. The West was now rapidly filling up with settlers, of whom many had gone from New England and longed for liberal churches such as they had left behind them. It was estimated that two millions of people in the West had outgrown orthodox beliefs, and were in danger of falling quite away from religion, although they were ready to give hearty welcome and strong support to liberal Christianity. Year after year the missionary preachers sent out from New England would come back reporting how eager people in the West and South were to hear Unitarian preaching, how eas- ily churches might be established in scores of thriving new towns, and how great an opportunity there was to liberalize the whole of the new country, if only preachers could be had and a little aid be given at the start. But alas, there were hardly more ministers than were needed in New England, and most of these were reluctant to do pioneer work on the fron- tier of civilization; while the funds of the Association were too scanty to support them even had they been willing to be sent. The missionary spirit was incredibly sluggish, and the eastern Unitarians seemed to think that the West and South, if left to take their own course, would of themselves soon be- come as liberal as Massachusetts. Yet despite all this lazi- ness the denomination did steadily grow. A whole series of new churches sprang up in such important centers as Cin- INTERNAL DEVELOPMENT 431 cinnati, Louisville, Buffalo, New Orleans, St. Louis, Chicago, Mobile, and Syracuse; and by 1840 the one hundred and twenty churches with which the denomination started out in 1825 had increased to two hundred and thirty. Local aux- iliaries were formed in more and more of the churches, con- tributions slowly increased, a permanent fund began to ac- cumulate, and the fear of belonging to a denomination was slowly outgrown. If the new denomination was slow in settling down to its proper work, it was yet slower in adopting any principles of thought really different from those of orthodoxy. At the end of the Unitarian controversy the Unitarians had, it is true, changed their beliefs as to God, Christ, the atone- ment, and human nature; yet these might after all be re- garded as mere matters of detail. They might still have remained no more than a liberal wing of the old church, as indeed many of them would have preferred to do. In fact, some of them were already beginning to fear that doctrinal changes might go too far, and that liberty in religion might bring with it more dangers than blessings. They were quite satisfied to let reform of doctrines stop where it was, and to build a new fence about an orthodox Unitarianism, in place of the old one about orthodox Calvinism from which they had lately escaped. Though they claimed the right of interpreting the Scriptures by reason, they were inclined to submit to Scripture authority almost more slavishly than the orthodox themselves. Now all this happened because of the philosophy that both Unitarians and orthodox had long accepted. Both be- lieved with John Locke that all our knowledge is gained through the physical senses. Even the knowledge of God and of religious truth came to us thus. We were justified in believing in God and in a future life, therefore, solely 432 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE because Jesus, who taught these doctrines, wrought miracles which men could see, and which proved his teachings to be true. This was the chief reason why one should accept the Christian religion and follow the precepts of Jesus at all. It thus became of the greatest importance for us implicitly to accept the Bible and its miracles, since otherwise the foundation of our religion would be gone. At the time of which we are speaking, however, there were beginning to be some, especially of the younger men, who were growing more and more dissatisfied with these views of truth, and were wishing to carry the reform of theology further than merely the reform of a few orthodox doctrines. The religion of the day seemed to them dead and mechani- cal. They had been much influenced by the writings of some of the German philosophers of the past generation, and even more by the English writings of Coleridge and Carlyle. Soon they were given the nickname Transcenden- talists. Transcendentalism was working among many of the younger generation in New England like a sort of fer- ment, and it showed its influence in various ways. They became rebellious against external authority and old tradi- tions of thinking and doing. Impatient with the continued existence of ignorance, poverty, intemperance, slavery, war, and other social ills, they threw themselves eagerly into all sorts of reforms and philanthropies that promised improve- ment—popular education, normal schools, temperance re- form, the anti-slavery movement, woman’s rights, non- resistance, communism, vegetarianism, spiritualism, mesmer- ism, phrenology—some wise and some foolish, but all of them earnestly espoused. They established at Brook Farm in 1841 a codperative experiment which combined education with agriculture, and became famous though it lasted but six years. They published a magazine called the Dial which INTERNAL DEVELOPMENT 433 in its four years’ existence broke new paths in literature. They were the first in America to welcome modern criticism of the Bible. Their movement was a New England Renais- sance. Channing, though not identified with it, was in spirit a precursor of Transcendentalism; and most of its adherents were Unitarians. It is the effect of Transcendentalism upon the religion of the Unitarians that most concerns us here. It spread rap- idly among the younger ministers. Its leaders declared that we are not dependent upon miracles, nor upon Jesus, nor upon the Bible, for our knowledge of religious truths ; for man is a religious being by nature. Religious truths do not have to be proved by miracles or by reasoning; they do not come to us from the outside; they arise sponta- neously within us, and God reveals them to our own souls directly. Hence we do not have to go to past ages and ancient prophets for our religion, or to try to reason it out to ourselves, or to follow the usual religious traditions. We need only to keep our souls open to what God would teach us now in our religious intuitions. While such thoughts as these had been entertained for some time by a handful of the younger ministers, the first to attract much attention to them by public utterance was Ralph Waldo Emerson in his Divinity School Address. Emerson is generally remembered to-day simply as an Amer- ican man of letters; but for a number of years he was him- self a Unitarian minister. He was descended from eight generations of Puritan ministers, and his father, the Rev. William Emerson, had been minister of the First Church in Boston, and one of the liberals of his time, though he died before the division of the churches occurred. After leaving the Divinity School, Emerson was for three years and a half minister of the Second Church in Boston, from which he 434 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE resigned in 1832 because he did not feel that he could con- scientiously celebrate the Lord’s Supper with the meaning then attached to it. Though he still continued for some years to preach more or less often, he was never settled over another church, but became more and more a lecturer and writer. In the summer of 1838 Emerson, now rapidly coming into fame for his work on the lecture platform, was invited to preach the sermon before the graduating class of the Di- vinity School. Only a small roomful were present, but the address they heard began a new era in American Unitarian- ism. He brought his young hearers the message of T'ran- scendentalism as applied to religion. He complained that the prevailing religion of the day had little life or inspira- tion in it because it was forever looking to persons and events in the past history of Christianity, rather than lis- tening to hear what God has to say to men to-day; and he urged them not to exaggerate the person of Jesus, nor to attach importance to miracles, as the main elements in re- ligion, but to seek the truths of religion within their own souls, and to preach to men what God reveals to them there. Thus religion should be no longer cold and formal, but a vital personal experience. There were those that appreciated the message of Emer- son’s address at once. ‘Theodore Parker was one of these, and he wrote of it, “It was the noblest, the most inspiring strain I ever listened to.” Others among the younger min- isters were glad to have so earnestly and clearly said in pub- lic what they had been vaguely feeling and thinking to them- selves. Few who read Emerson’s address to-day will find in it anything to shock them, or even much to attract atten- tion for its novelty. But the older heads at once saw what was involved in his message, and were filled with consterna- INTERNAL DEVELOPMENT 435 tion that young men about to enter the ministry should have been given advice which, it was felt, was in danger of under- mining their whole Christian faith. The address could not be allowed to pass unrebuked. Emerson’s successor at the Second Church made haste to say in the Christian Register that Emerson was not a representative of the denomination nor of many in it, and that he was no longer considered a regular minister. The Christian Examiner called the ad- dress “neither good divinity nor good sense.” Professor Henry Ware, Jr. felt bound to preach in the College chapel at the opening of the next term a sermon to counteract teachings which he considered denied the personality of God, and made worship impossible. Unitarian ministers’ meet- ings debated whether Emerson were Christian, pantheist, or atheist; and writers in various newspapers attacked him. After a year had passed Professor Andrews Norton, who had been one of the champions of the liberal party in the controversy of twenty years before,’ girded on his armor afresh, and in an address before the alumni of the Divinity School attacked Emerson’s views as “the latest form of in- fidelity.” He solemnly gave warning that since miracles are the foundation of Christianity, whoever denies them strikes directly at its root; nothing is left of it without them. For one to pretend to be a Christian teacher and yet to disbe- lieve in them is treachery to God and man; and he ought to leave the ministry. To all these attacks Emerson made no reply, refusing to be drawn into controversy. But the Rey. George Ripley, one of the younger men, answered Norton at length and with great ability; while a briefer reply was modestly made by another young minister named Theodore Parker, who was soon to become the storm center of a much fiercer controversy which was not merely to con- 1 See page 415. 436 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE cern a few of the ministers, but was seriously to disturb the peace of the whole denomination for a quarter of a century. Of him we have next to speak. Theodore Parker was born in 1810, the eleventh and youngest child of a farmer in Lexington, where his grand- father had been captain of a company at the first battle in the American Revolution. As his father was poor, Theodore fitted himself for Harvard College while working on the farm and teaching school. He could not attend the college classes, but while he kept on teaching he took all the regular studies and passed the examinations, though for want of money to pay the tuition fee he could not graduate. While teaching in Boston at this time he listened to Dr. Beecher’s preaching for a year, but it served only to con- firm him in the Unitarian faith in which he had been brought up. After he had finished his course at the Divinity School he became minister of a country church at West Roxbury. In this quiet little place he was known as a faithful parish minister, remarkable chiefly for his immense reading, his prodigious memory, his wide and profound scholarship, and his mastery of many foreign languages. He had been preaching here a year when he heard Emerson’s famous ad- dress, and it was three years more before he was unex- pectedly lifted out of his obscurity by a sermon which he preached in 1841 at the ordination of a minister at South Boston. Parker took for the theme of his sermon The Transient and the Permanent in Christianity, and it speedily brought down upon him far worse opprobrium than had fallen upon Emerson. Parker was already known as one of the Tran- scendentalists, and on this account some of the ministers had already refused to exchange with him. He still be- lieved in miracles, to be sure, and that Jesus was a perfect INTERNAL DEVELOPMENT 437 man; but in this sermon he insisted that Christianity does not need miracles to prove it true. It stands on its own merits. The permanent element in it is the teaching of Jesus, and the truth of that is self-evident apart from mira- cles ; it does not rest on even the personal authority of Jesus, indeed it would still remain true though it were proved that Jesus never lived at all. On the other hand, the forms and doctrines of Christianity are transient, changing from year to year. All this, putting in concrete form what Emerson had said more abstractly, and saying for people at large what Emerson had said only for ministers, was in itself far enough from the views then held by most Unitarians; but it was made still worse by the fact that in what he said he used language which seemed sarcastic and even irreverent. Many of the Unitarians present were deeply grieved and shocked by what he said. Still in spite of all this it is quite possible that the mat- ter might soon have blown over and been forgotten, had not some orthodox ministers interfered. Three of them being present took notes of the most extreme things Parker had said, and at once came out in print inquiring of the Unita- rian clergy in general whether they meant to endorse such views, or to regard the man who had uttered them as a Christian; while one of them even demanded that he be prosecuted for the crime of blasphemy. Perhaps they hoped in this way to win the more conservative Unitarians back to orthodoxy by showing them what Unitarianism was coming to. Although it was none of their business, they practically insisted that the Unitarians should either disown Parker or else confess active sympathy with his views. The Unitarians at once accepted the challenge, and made haste to treat him almost as a heathen and a publican. Some of his brother ministers refused henceforth to speak to him on 438 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE the street, or to shake hands with him, or to sit beside him at meetings. Some of them called him unbeliever, infidel, deist, or atheist, and tried to get him deprived of his pul- pit. It was then the custom for ministers to exchange pul- pits with one another each month, but the pressure against him became so strong that soon but five ministers could be found in Boston who would exchange with him; for it was felt that exchanging would’mean an approval of his opinions which they were unwilling to give. The ministers in the country, however, treated him more considerately, con- tinuing to exchange with him and to give him their friend- ship. There were laymen, too, who thought him not fairly treated; and believing in the right of free thought and free speech, inasmuch as he was denied a hearing in Boston pul- pits they arranged for him in the next two years to give in Boston series of lectures or sermons in a public hall. In these he restated and expanded the views he had expressed in his South Boston sermon. It was the Boston ministers who, since they felt most responsible for him, treated him in a way that would now be thought most illiberal. Some twenty-five of them had long been united in a Boston Association of Congregational (Unitarian) Ministers, who used to meet together each month and to deliver in turn a “Thursday Lecture” in the First Church. Parker was one of these. The other mem- bers now felt greatly disturbed that Parker should still be known as a member of their Association, and they con- sidered how they might get rid of him. It was debated whether to expel him from membership outright; but they shrank from doing this, for it was precisely what they had complained of the orthodox for doing to them a generation before. Then they tried to get him to resign; but this he was unwilling to do, feeling that a vital question of prin- INTERNAL DEVELOPMENT 439 ciple was involved. While all respected him for his char- acter, and many of them still esteemed him as a friend, they entirely disapproved of his religious views. Furthermore he was frequently aggressive in manner, sarcastic in speech, and vehement in denunciation of those whose views dif- fered from his own, and these characteristics alienated from him many of his fellow-ministers who might have stood by him. Even Dr. Channing, who continued to the end to be his friend, was doubtful whether he should be called a Christian. Yet so long as his own congregation were satis- fied with him there was no way to turn him out of the Unitarian ministry. The result was that the ministers simply gave him the cold shoulder, made him feel unwelcome at their meetings, and after a little devised a scheme to keep him from delivering the Thursday Lecture; so that in a year or two they had so far frozen him out that he seldom attended the Association, and had little more to do with most of its members. Though he was never expelled from the Association or from the Unitarian ministry, in the Unitarian Year Book his name was never included in the list of min- isters and churches except in 1846 and 1848, and in the printed list of members of the Boston Association it never appeared at all. There were a few of the ministers, however, who though they did not agree with Parker’s views did believe more than the rest in religious freedom, and acted accordingly. Thus the Rev. John T, Sargent exchanged with Parker in 1844, but for doing so he was so sharply called to account by the Benevolent Fraternity of Churches which employed him that he felt bound in self-respect to resign his pulpit. James Freeman Clarke also exchanged with him the next year, whereupon fifteen families emphasized their protest by seced- ing from his church and organizing a short-lived one of their 440 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE own. Parker was now so fully shut out of Boston pulpits by their ministers that a group of laymen determined that, whether the clergy would or no, he should have a chance to be heard in Boston. In the face of strong opposition they secured a large hall for him to preach in, and as the con- gregation steadily increased it soon organized as the Twenty- eighth Congregational Society, and settled Parker as its minister. Though most of the newspapers and all the magazines threw the weight of their influence against him, he won a tremendous hold on the common people, and so long as he preached there he was by far the most influential minister in Boston, week after week crowding Music Hall with its three thousand people, who had come to hear not sensations or popular oratory, but plain, earnest, fearless discussion of the most serious themes. Parker’s work was henceforth that of one disowned and opposed by most of his own denomination. As his thought grew clearer he became more radical, though never less re- ligious; and as time went on, he threw himself ever more fully into work for the great social reforms of the day, un- wearledly preaching Sundays and lecturing far and wide week days for temperance, prison reform, and the elevation of woman, and against capital punishment, war and, most of all, slavery. Thus he wore himself out. After twelve years of this incessant labor his health began to fail. The or- thodox exulted, and daily at one o’clock they offered their united prayers that the great infidel, as they deemed him, might be silenced and his influence come to naught. He sought relief in travel in Europe, but it was too late. He died in 1860 at Florence, where his grave is in the English Cemetery. Then Unitarians began to appreciate and ac- knowledge that a great prophet had fallen. His influence - among them steadily increased; and in the next generation INTERNAL DEVELOPMENT 441 he had come to be admired and praised by them as second only to Channing among all their leaders. The discussion which Parker had set going among the Unitarians went steadily on after he had ceased to have any part in it; nor did it cease after his death. But what had begun mainly as a controversy over miracles and the importance of believing in them gradually broadened out into the general question as to what was essential to Chris- tianity, and who are to be regarded as Christians. This Radical Controversy, as it came to be known, lasted for twenty years, until it was at length swallowed up and largely forgotten in the much more serious questions raised by the Civil War. What Emerson and Parker had said in public and without apology, many others had with hesitation been thinking to themselves. As time went on these radicals as they were soon called, most of them younger men, be- came more numerous, and disbelief in miracles and denial of them progressed steadily. The new critical study of the Bible gave the movement a fresh impulse, and the preaching of many found a new emphasis and took on a new tone. For some time attention was so much centered on Parker that little heed was paid to what was going on in these other minds; but graduates of the Divinity School were anxiously scanned to discover whether they were departing from the true faith, complaint was expressed in public that men sup- posed to be Transcendentalists were narrowly treated by those who made belief in miracles practically a test of one’s Christianity, and some were discouraged from continuing in the ministry. By and by the new views had spread so widely that the conservatives began to feel seriously alarmed, and the income of the American Unitarian Association seri- ously fell off because givers feared their money might be used to support radicalism. 442 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE At length the officers of the Association took official notice of what they could no longer ignore. In their annual report for 1853 they ascribed the slow growth of the denomination in part to radicalism, and in order to defend Unitarians against the charge of infidelity and rationalism still being made by the orthodox, they set forth a long statement of the beliefs they held, and declared the divine origin and au- thority of the Christian religion to be the basis of their efforts. A resolution to the same effect was unanimously adopted. Similar action was taken the same year by the Western Unitarian Conference meeting at St. Louis. In fact, throughout this whole middle period most of the Unita- rlans seemed to be creeping timidly along, steadying them- selves by holding on to orthodoxy with one hand, highly sensitive to orthodox criticism, and pathetically anxious to be acknowledged by the orthodox as really Christian despite all differences between them. Thus in this same year at a convention at Worcester it was objected to a proposed monument to Servetus for the three hundredth anniversary of his martyrdom, that “it would offend the orthodox”! Nevertheless the orthodox showed little sign of becoming more friendly. Unitarianism had not yet found itself, and was not yet ready to go its own way alone. The denomination had in truth come pretty much to a standstill, and seemed to be at once aimless, hopeless, and powerless. At the Autumnal Conventions (held at various places from 1842 to 1863), though the time was bristling with important questions in which the churches should have taken an active interest, the ministers discussed little but parochial subjects, and no fresh note was sounded, and no fresh inspiration given. Addressing the ministers in ee 1854 James Freeman Clarke rightly said that they were “a discouraged denomination.” Unitarianism seemed to have INTERNAL DEVELOPMENT 443 gone to seed. ‘The orthodox took note of this, and joyfully proclaimed that Unitarianism was dying, which at the time seemed to be the case; and they kept on repeating the state- ment many years afterwards, even when it had ceased to be true. The growth of the denomination was very slow. Early in the ’forties the Association, instead of spending its funds mainly in the publishing of tracts, began to pay more at- tention to missionary work, and gave aid to many young or feeble churches. Still, in the fifteen years which elapsed be- tween the height of the Parker controversy and the outbreak of the Civil War, though a few new churches a year were added, so many feeble ones died that there was a net gain of only about a score. There were several causes for this slow growth. In the first place, the Unitarians had still to use a good deal of their strength in defending themselves against the attacks of the orthodox, and they suffered much from the prejudice against them which existed and hindered their growth in quarters where they were not well known. Moreover, many of the most active spirits in the denomina- tion devoted themselves much less to spreading their own faith than to furthering great reforms. More than in most other denominations the ministers took an active part in the anti-slavery movement, and it was warmly debated in their meetings; while the temperance and other reforms ab- sorbed the energies of some to the cost of their church work. The most serious obstacle, however, to united effort for the common cause was radicalism. Emerson’s philosophy and Parker’s theology made more and more converts, and were adopted by some of the ablest and most brilliant of the ministers. By 1860 there were said to be twenty-five of them who shared Parker’s views. These might have done the denomination great service, had they been fraternally AA 4 OUR UNITARIAN HERITAGE treated; but instead, the conservative majority opposed them and in large measure alienated them from it, and some of them were practically driven from the ministry. Nat- urally they could not do much to build up a denomination which seemed determined to put free thought and free speech under the ban. Nor, on the other hand, would the conserva- tives support the Association heartily so long as it was equivocal in its attitude toward radicalism. By 1859 the number of contributing churches had shrunk to forty. At meeting after meeting requests for aid to new or feeble churches had to be refused because the Association had nothing to give, and many of these churches were thus starved to death. Hence missionary enterprise languished for want of support; and some of the ablest ministers went over to the Episcopal Church, where one of them became a bishop.? Considering how badly hampered it had been for lack of funds, the work of the Association was nevertheless intel- ligently and efficiently carried on; and in spite of all the discouraging features of this period, still there was more life, and more progress was achieved, than was apparent on the surface or realized at the time. When resources and spirits were at about their lowest ebb at the beginning of 1854, a special effort resulted in raising many thousands of dollars to spread the faith by publishing Unitarian books, in place of the tracts that had so long been issued. Much good came of this, and the churches’ contributions doubled that year. At the same time enthusiasm for foreign mission- ary work was kindled. : 179; 182seelsiae 297; Tobias, 175 Wittenberg (vit’-ten-berrk), 38, 127, 213, 220 Wojdowski (voy-dof’-skee), 196, 203 Wolverhampton Chapel case, 376f., 380f. Women’s 460 Wonderbook, The, 48 Woods, Leonard, 415 Worcester, Mass., church divided at, 404 Worcester, Noah, 409, 413; Samuel, 405, 413 World War, 124, 211 Worms (vohrmss), 49 Wright, Richard, 378f. Wirttemberg = (viirt’-tem-berrk), 103 Wyclif’s Bible, 286, 290 Auxiliary Conference, Yale College attacked by White- field, 394 Yates, James, 379 INDEX 495 Year Book controversy, 457f., 462 Young Men’s Christian Unions, 453 Young People’s Religious Union, 465 Zips County (tzips), 182 Zsuki, Laszlo (lahs’-lo zhoo’-kee), 268f. 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