In certain quiet nooks of Old England, and, by contrast, in some of the
busiest centres of New England, landmarks of religious history are to be
found which are not to be easily understood by every passer-by. He is
familiar with the ordinary places of worship, at least as features in,
the picture of town or village. Here is the parish church where the
English episcopal order has succeeded to the Roman; yonder is the more
modern dissenting chapel, homely or ornate. But, now and then, among the
non-episcopal buildings we find what is called distinctively a 'Meeting
House,' or more briefly a 'Meeting,' which may perhaps be styled 'Old,'
'New,' or 'Great'. Its architecture usually corresponds with the
simplicity of its name. Plain almost to ugliness, yet not without some
degree of severe dignity, stand these old barn-like structures of
brick--occasionally of stone; bearing the mellowing touch of time,
surrounded by a little overshadowed graveyard, they often add a peculiar
quaintness and solemnity to the scene. Mrs. Gaskell has described one
such in her novel _Ruth_, and admirers of her art should know well that
her own grave lies beside the little sanctuary she pictured so lovingly.
Sometimes, however, the surroundings of the ancient chapel are less
attractive. It stands, it may be, in some poverty-stricken corner or
court of a town or city. Whatever picturesqueness it may have had once
has long since vanished. Unlovely decay, an air of desolation, symptoms
of neglect, present a mournful sight, and one wonders how much longer
the poor relic will remain. Many places of the kind have already been
swept away; others have been renovated, enlarged, and kept more worthy
of their use. Not all the Meeting Houses are of one kind. Independents,
Baptists, and Friends, each possess some of them. Now and again the
notice-board tells us that this is a 'Presbyterian' place of worship,
but a loyal Scot who yearns for an echo of the kirk would be greatly
surprised on finding, as he would if he entered, that the doctrine and
worship there is not Calvinistic in any shape whatever,
but--_Unitarian_.
A similar surprise awaits the visitor to New England, it may be even a
greater. For if he should tread In the footsteps of the Pilgrim Fathers
and find the 'lineal descendants' of their original places of worship at
Plymouth, Salem, or Boston, he will find _Unitarians_ in possession. So
it is in many of the oldest towns founded by the American colonists of
the seventeenth century. In their centres the parish churches, 'First,'
'Second,' or otherwise, stand forth challenging everybody's attention.
There is no lack of self-assertion here, nothing at all like the
shrinking of the Old English Presbyterian into obscure alleys and
corners. Spacious, well appointed, and secure, these _Unitarian_ parish
churches, in the words of a popular Unitarian poet, 'look the whole
world in the face, and fear not any man.'
The object of the present brief sketch is to show how these landmarks
have come to be where they are, to trace the thoughts and fortunes of
Unitarians from their rise in modern times, to indicate their religious
temper and practical aims, and to exhibit the connections of the
English-speaking Unitarians with some closely approximating groups in
Europe and Asia.
Before entering upon a story which is extremely varied and
comprehensive, one or two important points must be emphasized. In the
first place the reader must bear in mind that the term 'Unitarianism' is
one of popular application. It has not been chosen and imposed as
sect-name by any sect-founder, or by any authoritative assembly. There
has never been a leader or a central council whose decisions on these
matters have been, accepted by Unitarians as final. Even when most
closely organized they have steadily resisted all attempts so to fix the
meaning of 'Unitarianism' as to exclude further growth of opinion.
Consequently there is always room for variety of opinion among them; and
every statement of their principles and teachings must be taken as a
sort of average estimated from a survey more or less extended.
Thus the significance of Unitarianism as a feature of modern religious
development cannot be grasped apart from its history as a movement of
thought. Nowhere is it more necessary than here to reflect that to know
what a thing is we must know what it has been and consider what its
future naturally involves.
Secondly, amid all the varieties of thought referred to, complicated as
they are by the eager advance of some and the clinging to survivals by
others, there are two notes to be found undeniably, if unequally,
characteristic of Unitarianism. It is both _rationalist_ and _mystical_.
If the historian seems more attentive to the former than to the latter,
this must not be taken as indicating their relative importance.
Obviously, it is easier to record controversies than to unfold the
wealth of profound conceptions. Perhaps we may fairly suggest the true
state of the case by the mere juxtaposition of such earlier names as
Socinus, Bidle, and Locke, with those of Channing, Emerson, and
Martineau; or by a reference to the earlier Unitarian hymns in contrast
with those of the later stages.