ee cee et nt eta oe
eae es me —
et oe ae =
ee eens aa
SS
SS ee
ea he cies
SOT ers,
Se,
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2022 with funding from
Princeton Theological Seminary Library
https://archive.org/details/ourunitarianheri0Owilb
re
DENY Ihe
aby \ mat
{ wf Ls ioe , Ay ae t
a Ay a a i » 7 sh 4 17 }
4 i AC . AY ae er vn ‘ vn
. f q! ;
; rr) in oa
Pie ee i
ba ya, | wn 4 HEE ali
p ‘eke St 4
Csi the wie er iv '
ae Ml j yi : ¥ Dl aA ee if ae i m4
anny ; Wd om at) ‘iy ; 0 sy, ve
i . 1 4 A " Y wage a) ie ite Ai , iM vay ¥ at
a ' iy a ‘a iy A J
4 yt vray a f ara a
4 Pita
! « +
; - : i 4 i
> > i i : ¢
Zz ~ <4 Lab! 7 +? : ; ~~
17 i ' v an | v j
7 a Ryire A‘
i i an Auk hs
; } ' a iy 1a MA
( uf s rt f
: : Coa ; Porm
‘ ; ry
a. as he ay |
) : fii ‘Ae - ty
it ; ee ae) ,
, 4 \ ‘ae see)
. | AG he j
wae » * ; ual Dh
a ‘ ips
f
i
av: a2 Ch Us ATELY, oy) ee
L
o* aE vanes a cee ve Re
‘ ‘ ~ hs °
3 ae i i = 5 s - i ae | q Lo we
\! ‘< = f ’ ' i
i se a3 z a) ; > © wus t ; i bi ve As
ey a Pea POR | ie ay fae i) vi wi ween ene
q an | at ie bap a. 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 . OPT at
ORY I Reh ie ;
SSS Mere, ¥ '
hae i" % Basi Sd
; (iVe ty hie ee. ators ; Aen le. pee a
RE MM ee ceil aunatts hier
4 : a > wy e : es a de, & i 5 fod net ve af a i e
Panto Mel ta Goi
. / ; Ria Fis sta pds Y in Pity lee) ‘are WAS sae e
AS ites! te ; rie. a i oe hed i WW igea’
ane ck: Oe ae Sti wees
& Py Je. - »' mS it ny
" - ny “Litas eC eh a “EN Me
, ie ] ea? 4 ales . 3 =or EP 5
, ; bas eye t Pe perth bP eke! Dab ,
ah oe
ry SERY, 7 > ean hay reel Est *y A maT 3
dew ae | ; Ma at = Dee, + 24 T feat v2 a ae é an
is f 1 ee - aS : e 4 hans lan at ot 4 : 5 uh Wy By . z a
a fae Pt, ahs a. : ji ‘ahi Sgt it in tied i ai? 1
a vine F i 5 i ¥ L ng r f a ‘VE ae Mae our oka
bb CODOTE LIA Rey ete Reb eae. aay ay ;
es f rc Fr: 4 AK v ne aed, A ie : oh neat ae
AEE AW 4. 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.
Ziirich (tsii’-rich), 40, 44, 74, 88,
96, 105, 109; Antitrinitarianism
at, 111-116, 149
Zwingli (tsving’-lee), 40, 44, 57,
11
Revere We hd Bee a
Phe) Sac Sean ey et :
* aretegtt
pe,
ves
1)
8 eo
Free
to Bae
ree. sie
¥ =
bd hea
oes
is i
4 i
TY
F vO u TAY
a ia cae ie
t
-
a ‘ tay ‘ni OG, ih " ae
ie a Baltes in if for
ae SS ir eral ev
ae 0 “ i ye
i i
oe ea vie ,
ie vie bs ie a
¥ aut lini ve oe
peo = 3 < : ‘ aes z : = = ees
Sea
rz
Bie