Boston Unitarianism, 1820-1850; study of the life and work of Nathaniel Langdon Frothingham

Front matter

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PRINCETON, N. J.

Prefatory Note

A woED of explanation seems to be necessary. Many years ago I proposed "svriting something in memory of Dr. Frothingham, but abandoned the project on account of the meagreness of the biographical material. Within the twelvemonth, a warm friend and admirer of his asked me to prepare a memoir. Then the matter was reviewed once more, and it occurred to me that some reminiscences of my father might be woven into a sketch of his time. This has been attempted, with what success others must judge. So much is certain, that if I did not undertake the task nobody else would. This will account for the mixture of denominational concerns with personal details. It is needless to say that the author writes as an historian, not as an advocate.

O. B. F.

Contents

Prefatory Note ....

I. — Three Types of Unitarianism II. — An Example III. — The First Church .

IV. — The Dogmatical Position V. — Literature and Religion VI. — The Unitarian Layman .

I. Three Types Of Unitarianism

It lias long seemed to me that justice was not done to the Unitarianism whicli lay between William EUeiy Channing on one side, and Theodore Parker on the other ; the simple rationalism as distinguished from the spiritualismi of the former, and the naturali'Wi of the latter ; literary Unitarianism it might be called ; the religion of sentiment, feeling, emotion ; the religion of unadorned good-sense. The fame of these two men so far eclipsed the others, that they sank into general obscurity, and were almost unknown outside of a small circle of admirers, while their influence, if acknowledged at all, was considered insignificant. By many they were regarded as drones, respectable good-for-nothings. Yet, it is my belief, the freedom and ease of movement in the mind of this generation, its elasticity, its gracefulness, its love of musical expression, its demand

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for finisli in thought and phrase, its modest demeanor in presence of deep problems, must be in great measure due to them. Of course, some were more distinguished than others, but chiefly in distinct fields — as James Walker in philosophy, John G. Palfrey in history, Alexander Young in biography, — but as a class of thinkers they held no eminent place. It is the fashion to depreciate them, to deny them power, to esteem them of small account. That they were destitute of positive, new, creative force, is freely admitted ; but that they were without formative genius or power, is not so easily granted. It was their office to create an atmosphere rather than to advance a cause, to diffuse a spirit of liberality rather than to promote the interests of a system of thought, whether doctrinal or philosophical. They were not organizers ; they were not sectaries ; they were not champions of any school ; they were not possessed by any dominant idea ; they had no passion for social reform. J They were simply scholars and gentlemen ; dignified, gracious, genuine, sweet ; fond of elegant studies, of good English, of courteous ways, of poetic expression, of the amenities of life. They were conservative of existing institutions in so far as they allowed the fi'ee movement of cultivated mind, and desired no change except in the direction of mental emancipation. They pushed against no barriers that did not limit the right to walk over all the fields of literature, unimpeded and unchallenged. For the rest, they were contented with things as they were and disliked innovation, dreading the intrusion of untried ideas ; agitation, violence, vehemence, even in the advocacy of just principles, they deplored. They believed in the prevalence of sweetness and light. Such men are never creators or leaders.

That William E. Channing was the father of spiritual Christianity admits of no question. The fact is undisputed. His immense and growing fame, the dedication of churches in his honor, the association of his name with the sect, the acclaim of its most eminent men, preachers, critics, thinkers, the steady increase of his noblest teachings, while his limitations have been gradually falling aw^ay, the development of his cardinal thoughts — upward, inward, outward — all attest this. Admitting the substantial justice of M. Renan's criticism; granting that Channing did not think himself clear on several doctrinal matters ; conceding that he was but half developed as a philosopher ; it is nevertheless true that he was the inspirer of the most exalted souls in the denomination. And this may be easily explained. The insignificance of his physical frame, its w^eakness and infirmity, made him seem a spirit, the more so on account of his untiring pursuit of knowledge and his habitual absorption in high themes, which he clung to and persisted in long after strong people would have abandoned the quest in sheer fatigue. Dr. Dewey, in a discourse delivered after Channing's death, said : " On my first acquaintance with him, it was my happiness to pass a number of weeks under his owD roof. His health was then delicate ; he went abroad but little ; his mind was left untouched by the frailty of his body ; and I found it constantly occupied and struggling with great questions, as the highest philosophy, or the highest religion, or the highest freedom of life ; all the day long he pursued the questions which those themes present, without ever slackening or ever turning aside to ordinary and commonplace talk. The range of his subjects was as great as their character : from the most I'econdite point in philosophy — the difference between relative and absolute truth — to the forms of philanthropic enterprise and political thought around him. But his favorite themes were Man and the New ^ Testament ; man, his condition, and the philosophy of his condition ; the New Testament, Jesus Christ, his teaching, and the sublimest contemplation of Grod. Sometimes his mind was upon the same theme, almost without interruption, for an entire week ; yet there was never any weariness in listening, but the weariness of exhaustion." He had his limitations, but his incessant endeavor to surmount them reduced them to a negative, subordinate, ephemeral position, like the clouds that obscure the rising sun and must soon be burned a^vay, however solid they look. He was not a man of mere opinions — notions that lay on the surface of his mind and were driven about by the varying winds of doctrine, owing their temporary })lace, to the book he last read, or the person lie last conversed with, but

THREE TYPES OF UNITARJANISM. 5

he was a man of deep convictions, wliicli were rooted in liis cliaracter, had an organic growth, and threw off dogmas as the chambered nautihis throws off its covering,

" Leaving its outgrown shell by life's unresting sea."

Such a man is of slow increase. His maturity is in the future. He is a seed rather than a forest. Channing said well, when, in answer to one who asked toward the end of his life what he considered to be the happiest period of his existence, he replied with a smile, "About the age of sixty." His true life did begin after his death.

At the bottom of his heart was a passion for pure religion, andefiled by rite or doctrine. It was the only passion he had, a real thirst for the Living God. The paternal nature of Grod was his cardinal belief, ^ and it was his sole endeavor to explain this and render it vital in all its implications. This principle furnished a basis for his doctrine of an inherent dignity in man ; of the divine Sonship of Jesus Christ, and his mission as the inspirer, friend, ex-^ emplar of the soul ; of the Bible as conveying the Father's benignant will ; of the immortal destiny as a demand of the spiritual part which presupposed a deathless continuance ; of all reasonable attempts to elevate society. This alone justified the hope of temporal and eternal good. In fact, his central conviction was the love of God. The invincible optimism it aroused never left him. He had a genuine enthusiasm for truth, mental freedom and moral excellence. He was " always young for liberty." Miss Peabody reports him as saying : " I would not for the world interrupt or check your thought. ... I would not for the world throw a damper on earnestness of inquiry ; it is only by grappling with great questions that there can be any progress." His intimate friends say that he possessed a fine imagination, that he had a nice sense of color and lines. But this faculty was never unfolded. He was never a poet, excej^t as every idealist must be one at heart. The tendency of his mind was toward philosophical speculation, and the bent of his will was in the direction of practical evils to be removed. His songs were spiritual. He thought more of the goodness in nature than of its beauty. That AVashiugton Allston, his brother-in-law, prized his opinion of pictures, simply proves the existence of artistic sensibility in the constitution. The aim was spiritual, all the time, and attests the spirituality of Allston' s art, quite as much as Channing\s taste in praising. The man cared nothing about Unitarianism, simply because he abhorred division, and professed it merely on account of its unpopularity. His whole concern was with religion, not even with Christianity otherwise than as it was, in his estimation, the highest form of religion, the most potent instrument for cultivating tlie human soul. Of intellectual accomplishments, of literary finish, of philosophical talent, of learning, of scholarship, of criticism, he had no opinion whatever, unless as aids to a divine purpose,

Teclinically, Dr. Channing belonged to tlie Scotch^ system of philosophy — that of common-sense — dry, prosaic, unimaginative. But, really, he was a disciple of the intuitive school ; nor is it at all surprising "^ that the transcendentalism of a later epoch was derived from that adoring soul ; that George Ripley borrowed an impulse from him ; that Mr. Emerson, €ven, was indebted to him for inspiration. The intuitive philosophy would appear to be most consistent with Channing's leading ideas — with his interior or subjective conception of God as a Father, with his moral view of Christ as the perfect man, with his doctrine of a similarity of nature between the human and the divine spirit, with his interpretation of the Bible as a message of love to the mind of man — his reading of the heart's natural compassion into the text being well known. It was his main objection to the doctrine of hell that it outraged every instinctive feeling of justice and mercy. On one occasion, when an objector cited the " woe unto you scribes and pharisees " as an evidence that Jesus was not always animated by absolute kindness, he took down the New Testament and, rendering the Greek into " alas for you," gave a new meaning to the passage. Miss Peabody mentions the case of a young man who flung in his teeth the declaration, "Ye are of your father the devil." Dr. Channing paraphrased the verse, and then repeated it in a tone

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that conveyed earnestness alone, without a trace of anger. " Oh," said the young man, '' if Jesus spoke in that tvay I have no doubts." In this instance, as in a great many others, Dr. Channing assumed the

^ jsuperiority of the affections. Love being the high- 'est principle, he took that for his chief authority against historical probability.

Channing, therefore, stood at one extreme, as the illustration of spii'itual aspiration. At the other extreme stood Theodore Parker, an illustration of

^ the power of practical will. With every disposition to grant Mr. Parker's extraordinary force and eminent service ; with the heartiest admission of his claim upon admiration and love ; with grateful acknowledgment of his integrity, singleness of mind,, outspokenness, courage, unaffected warm-heartedness, tenderness of feeling, catholicity of sentiment — his

^] talent was practical, not speculative. He was an enormous reader, but not a subtle thinker. He had a prodigious memory, but not a penetrating intellect or soaring imagination. Though he honored Dr. Channing, listened reverently to him, spoke beautifully of him in a funeral discourse, he probably never caught his genius, or fully comprehended his mind. Mr. Parker kept a record of every thing, had an outside acquaintance with all systems, could put his finger on every significant name or passage, but his ability to describe opinions was out of proportion to his inward appreciation of them. He was not f'omplex. He was not seraphic. lie was not aerial or winged. Terrestrial lie essentially was ; not, by any means, " of the eartli, earthy," for no one was ever more clean, heroic, devoted, than he ; no one was more consecrated to the most exalted human aims. But he must have liiiman aims. He was practical, executive, charged with stern mental force, a Titan, not an angel, a Briareus with a hundred hands. One has only to read his '' Discourse on Religion " to see how muscular his persuasions were. In the early days of the Transcendental discussion, it was evident that this " Orson of j)arsons " used the new philosophy as a club wherewith to belabor his oppo-V/ neuts. To a friend he said, as Luther said to Melancthon, " I was born to thunder and lighten, and break things down to the ground." He was an agitator by temperament. It is often said, that the Unitarian controversy and the anti-slavery movement diverted him from his ultimate work. That they diverted him from his ulterior design is quite possible; but that they injured his actual achievement may be doubted. He misapprehended his own office, which was to destroy, not to build up. In reality these convulsions were his opportunity. They called forth his characteristic qualities, his directness, his frankness, his eloquence of speech, his wit, his sarcasm, his bluntness of sentiment, his invective, his power of denunciation and contempt. His closetwriting would never probably have been of great value, nor would he have been famous as a scholar. He thought of himself as a I'eformer of faith, a se^- lO BOSTON UNITARIANISM.

ond Lutlier. William E. Cbanning was " cautious and timid both in thought and action," in his view. There was no reform in which he did not take a part, and the air was thick with the breath of change. Every institution rushed to Judgment. " In the history of the world," said Emerson then, " the doctrine of reform had never such hope as at the present hour." It was the abstract conscience against all conventionalities. The result of which was a complete overturning of all social arrangements ; for these were placed at the mercy of individual caprice, the gathered usage of the past not being accepted * as authority. It should be added that Mr. Parker was not always on the destructive side. He had N\ conservative leanings, for personal feeling is apt to be conservative, and his personal feelings were very strong. For instance, he attended the anti-Sabbath convention, and made a speech in favor of the Sunday. Still he took part in it, as Dr. Channing did not, though the latter was present as a listener, and in so doing admitted the principle that the private soul may pronounce on institutions, a doctrine that offended the more deliberate judgment of a large number of his contemporaries. Parker was a headlong man. Fortunately his impulses were all noble, and his tremendous force of will was directed in humane paths, and was made a power of Justice. At the time, however, this could not be generally seen, even by such as were in sympathy with the ultimate aim, as Channing certainly was ; while the

THREE TYPES OF UNITARIANISM. II

more timid or prudent, or thoughtful, or lukewarm, turned away in disgust, under an impression that the problems were too delicate for any summary treatment, and must be left to the slow working of reason.

To this last class belonged the Unitarians I would describe, a class of men who lay between Channing and Parker, lacking the fervent spirituality of the one, and the impassioned earnestness of the other; men of quiet culture and scholarshij), of elegant tastes, relined manners, and dignified conduct ; social, affable, amiable, kind, gentle, but not in the smallest degree volcanic, or sulphureous, or explosive with wrath, however "holy." This type of clergyman is admirably depicted in Dr. Frothingham's tribute to his friend. Dr. Lunt, prepared for the Massachusetts Historical Society. He used these words : " In theology. Dr. Lunt stood far on the right wing, though not on the extreme right, of the Unitarian denomination. Reverence for antiquity and established belief, for the early Church and the sacred associations of the past, wrought strongly within him. He loved to hold fast, so far as he could, to the language of Scripture, and to the doctrine, liberally interpreted, which had come down from the fathers. He was more ready to accept than anxious to define hallowed phrases. While he was open to new light, he was jealous of innovations. He shrank from all approach to the subversive speculations of the newest criticism. While he repelled with every power of his intellect, every instinct of his conscience, every throb of his heart, the dogmas of Calvinistic divinity, yet his Puritan soul leaned back, as far as it dared, toward ancient formulas. . . . The political and reformatory movements of the day he was slow to admit into his pulpit.

Controversial religion was not to his liking. The Biblical neologies of our new times were an offense, if not an alarm to him. He held the literal word reverently dear, although he endeavored to give it an expansive scope, and sought underneath it the most spiritual significances." Nothing could be more exact than this so far as it goes. But it should be added, that the faith we are concerned with laid stress on the old virtues of private character — purity, moderation, kindness, hospitality, generosity, peacefulness, hopefulness, humility, truth — rather than on the philosophical foundations of belief, or the changes necessary to perfect society. Its whole purpose was to create good men, trusting to their influence for the regeneration of mankind, avoiding whatever, by causing disturbance, might alienate, discourage, or divert men from self-examination and self-discipline. It was certain that the \' multitude cared nothing for philosophical speculation, and it was equally certain that any discussion of social themes would arouse disaifection. The field of Christian character was wide, and its elements were well understood and cordially respected. We need not, as was the fashion, impute cowardice to the resolution to shun dispute and division and pretentiousness. There was a deliberate purpose to keep clear of "exciting" subjects, a definite, systematic, reasoned exclusion of every thing that looked like an introduction of controverted topics. There was certainly a good deal to be said in favor v of the policy of silence.

Timidity there was assuredly, but there was also a rationale of conservatism, as Emerson explained. Temperament had a good deal to do with this moral quiescence ; education played a large part ; association was important ; social position, for the clergy were at the head of the social scale, had a great influence. But the prime circumstance of all was a theory of ministerial responsibility to the profession. The Church was to them an institution, a divine institution. Its forms of observance and faith were appointed from on high. Its Christ was a Saviour; its Bible was a revelation. And while interpretations might differ as to the meaning of the creed, or the significance of the ceremonies, there they were, and their validity must be admitted by every priest. The servant must serve dutifully. He that rejects the Church must not belong to it. If one wishes to throw stones at the windows he must go outside. This, in short, was the argument. It was diflicult, if not impossible, to answer, half a century or more ago. Mr. Emerson having tried in vain to widen the Church, left it for another career. George Rij)ley abandoned it because it did not allow of industrial experiments. Parker remained in it, though he too had virtually seceded from it, having dropped the sacraments, discarded the creed, rejected the Bible as a source of authority ,^ deprived Jesus of his saving attributes, and shifted the centre of inspiration to another basis. His prodigious popular talent enabled him to undertake this. Of course, he was perfectly honest. His sincerity was above dispute. But his critics said that the position he held was not logical. Nor was it. His invincible force alone made it tolerable ; and as they did not possess this invincible force, they could not understand it. Now all is changed; but then it could hardly be surprising if good men — the best men — postponed their private wishes and closet opinions to the overwhelming strength of the instituted religion, with its immense influence, its all but universal following, its definite hopes, clear promises, and vast benefactions. Even the largest humanities lay concealed there, if one could wait for them. So these men wrought in faith, and were patient. They did not believe in leaving their ark. Though it floated on troubled waters, it did float. It was " narrow " ; it was not any too nice ; still, the future of man seemed to be in it ; the dove was sent out, the pledge of dry land was welcomed. This was its prayer :

And still on life's baptizing tide

Or sorrow's bitter sea, Descending Peace be multiplied

And hallow hearts to Thee.

II. An Example

Perhaps the class of believers liere described can be best portrayed by an instance, and I choose Nathaniel Langdon Frothingham, partly because I know him better than I know others, partly because my own disposition furnishes, in some degree, a key to his, and partly because he was an unique, typical, well-known person, admirably supplied with the qualities that illustrated his companions. The family was an old one, and, in some of its branches, distinguished. It bore a coat-of-arms, a sign of gentility. The origin of the name is uncertain ; it may come from " Frod-hame " (the home of the sage), or from " Fodder-hame " (the home of the man who furnishes the fodder for cattle), or " Foighting-hame " (the home of the warrior). In Scotland it was associated with dukes. " Fotheringay " may be the same appellation. The spelling was various, Frottinghame, Frattinghame, Flathinghame. The family was probably of Scottish descent, but the " Signiory " of Holderness in Yorkshire appears to have been its chief seat. There was Frodinghame

IS l6 BOSTON UNITARIAA'ISM.

Hall, the residence of tlie feudal lords of the soil fi'om near the Conquest until the seventeenth century. A certain Piers Frothingham married a daughter of Sir William Boynton de Sadberg, in 1250. We hear of a Sir Peter Frothingham in 1314; of Sir Peter de Frothingham, his descendant. There was a Rev. Sir William in 1503. Sir John Lister Frothingham was knighted by Charles I. The Frothinghams of Holderness attained to some opulence through mercantile operations. But none of this splendor lighted on the AVilliam Frothingham who came to New England, probably with John Winthrop in 1630; who was appointed in 1634 one of eleven Selectmen of Charlestown ; and was, at first, an adherent of John Wheelwright, of Anne Hutchinson memory. This William was a soi't of carpenter. The family pursued a peaceful and honest calling as cabinet-makers, joiners, carriagebuilders, in the colony. Of this William, Nathaniel Langdon was a direct descendant. His father, Ebenezer, was a crockery-merchant and appraiser of taxes in Marshall's Lane, near the Boston Stone. He married Joanna Langdon, — whence the middle name. The name '' Nathaniel " was common in the family, and Miss Langdon had a brother so called, which circumstance added weight at the baptism of the eldest son.

Nathaniel Langdon Frothingham was born on the twenty-third day of July, 1793. The house still stands, though somewhat altered in the course of years. Before the Frothingliams held it it was owned by Ebenezer Hancock, younger brother of the Governor, who was paymaster in the army, an office which made him very popular, especially when the treasury had something in it. The house was a comfortable brick mansion, not stylish, but in a fashionable quarter of the town, on a narrow way at some distance from the main street. Boston was then a small place, of somewhat over thirty thousand inhabitants. Faneuil Hall was standing, so was the corn-market near by, whence comes Corn Hill ; but the spot which Quincy Market occupies was covered with water. The " Neck " was a neck indeed, thin and slender. Charles Street bounded the city on the west. The mansion of Governor Hancock was considered out of town. The child was too young to see the fifteen milk-white horses which drew the corner-stone of the new State-House to its place on the hill in the " Governor's Pasture," where, on the 4th of July, 1795, it was dedicated with grand masonic ceremonies, in presence of Governor Samuel Adams, Paul Revere looking on. But he might have witnessed the procession when the members of the General Court walked solemnly from the old State-House to their new lodgings in Beacon Street. For this was in 1798.

Yes, Boston was a small town territorially, but intellectually there was probably no city in the world so full of life. It was always remarkable for explosions of mind. Nor is this wonderful as we

1 8 BOSTON UNITARTANISM.

remember the cliaracter of the men who founded it, — their mental force, their education, their moral courage, their independence, their spiritual energ}' One of the first things they did was to found a college. In 1636 the General Court voted the sum of £400 towards the undertaking, and its influence has been steadily exerted in favor of thought. Libraries sprang up rapidly, stimulating knowledge of every kind. There was a passion for learning. There was from of old faith in reason, and faith that reason would Justify reverence. Books multiplied. It is true that Noah Webster ^vl•ote ten letters to Dr. Joseph Priestley, who had criticised in a stately manner the literary services of America, — letters that were printed in a pamphlet at New Haven in 1801, — in the course of which he allowed that " our colleges are disgracefully destitute of books and philosophical apparatus " ; that " scarcely a branch of science can be fully investigated in America " ; that " in the higher branches of literature our learning is superficial to a shameful degree " ; that " as to classical learning, history, civil and ecclesiastical, mathematics, astronomy, chemistry, botany, and natural history, excepting here and there a rare instance of a man who is eminent in some one of these branches, we may be said to have no learning at all, or a mere smattering " ; that " as to libraries, we have no such thing. There are not more than three or four tolerable libraries in America, and these are extremel}^ imperfect."

And George Ticknor, in 1814, complained that "good school-books were rare in Bostou, and that no copy of Euripides, in Greek, was to be found in any bookstore in New England." But this was to be expected in a country which had but few scholars, was poor, thinly peopled, and mainly devoted to industrial pursuits. And when we remember that Noah Webster was writing to a man of science, besides being captious himself, and that George Ticknor trod the upper fields of literature, there is pretty warm praise. Webster asserts that "almost all read the best English authors. ... If you can find any ^ country in Europe where this is done to the same extent as in New England, I am very ill informed." {" American Men of Letters, Noah Webster," p. 106.) A literaiy club, called the " Anthology Club," was formed in 1804, established a reading-room in 1806, was incorporated as the Boston Athenaeum a little while afterwards. After two locations — one in Scollay Square, another in Tremont Street, where the building of the Historical Society now stands — it was removed to Pearl Street, to the large house presented to the corporation by James Perkins. In 1820 there were 20,000 volumes on the shelves. The library of Harvard University, which began with 300 volumes, had 72,000 in 1850, and now numbers more than 300,000. So inordinate was, from the outset, the craving for information. My father in his manhood made constant use of the y Athenaeum and of Harvard College library. At this time, or soon after, there were fine private collections of books : Cliarles F. Adams' (18,000), W. H. Prescott's (16,000), George Ticknor's (13,000), Edward Everett's (7,500). Every gentleman had books» Public schools were established early, the first one being opened in 1635. Private schools had patrons. " The teaching and maturing " of youth was immediately thought of. John Cotton, it is thought, set on foot the Latin School, having brought from old Boston, in Lincolnshire, the memory of the Free Grammar School founded by Queen Mary. When young Frothingham was ready to go, it was probably under the charge of Samuel Hunt, who took the head mastership in 1776, and remained in possession for about thirty years. The schoolbuilding then stood where the Parker House is now. Mr. Hunt was a master of the ancient type, but there is no record of young Frothingham as being an unruly lad, or any thing but a good scholar. The fact that he afterward was a tutor there is evidence of that.