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SAMUEL ATKINS ELIOT II: FIRST PRESIDENT OF THE UNITARIANS
1862-1950

by
Elizabeth Curtiss
Unitarian Universalist Minister and Educator
Samuel
Atkins Eliot II (1862-1950) was the first President of the
American Unitarian Association (AUA) to be given the power
of an executive; he held this office from 1900 to 1927. A
member of one of 19th century New England's most accomplished
families, Eliot vigorously expanded the denomination's identity
through application of the then-new "scientific management."
Many of Eliot's innovations in governance and patterns of
authority can still be seen in today's Unitarian Universalist
Association (UUA). Under his leadership the two major American
Unitarian organizations, the AUA and the National Conference
of Churches (NCC), were merged in 1925, paving the way for
Unitarian consolidation with the Universalist Church of America
in 1961.
Samuel Atkins Eliot was the third generation of his family
(and the second of his name) to grasp the helm of a major
institution with the intention of improving its operation.
Sam's paternal grandfather, the first Samuel Atkins Eliot,
pursued public cultural interests ranging from membership
in King's Chapel to co-founding Boston's premier choral society,
the Handel and Hayden Society. A conscientious businessman,
grandfather Eliot served as mayor of Boston from 1836 to 1850
(coming immediately after his own brother-in-law, Theodore
Lyman). Mayor Eliot disestablished the social network within
Boston's volunteer fire departments, despite serious threats
to his family, property and person. The second institution-reforming
member of the lineage was Dr. Charles William Eliot, the mayor's
son and Sam's father, who briefly taught college chemistry
before becoming President of Harvard University. From 1869
to 1909 Charles William Eliot revolutionized modern higher
education by shifting emphasis away from tradition instruction
toward a system for mentored individual learning. This is
now known as Ike Harvard Methodic Sam was also distantly related
by marriage to the much older Henry Whitney Bellows, minister
of what is now the Unitarian Church of All Souls in New York
City and organizer in 1865 of the National Conference of Churches
(NCC), which instituted linkages among Unitarian and other
liberal Christian churches beyond the Northeast on a state
or regional basis. With such dynamic relatives on both sides
of his parentage, Sam Eliot was born into the process of shaping
institutional vision just as others are born into musicality
or a professional affinity.
The AUA President was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts. His
father, widowed when Sam was six years old, did not remarry
until 1877. Rather than attending any school, Sam spent his
childhood in the company of his father and the tightly knit
Harvard faculty. Their guidance allowed Sam and his brother,
architect Charles Eliot, to enjoy individual educations. In
late adolescence, Sam entered Harvard for more formal study.
Despite claims of having been an indifferent student, young
Sam Eliot took his A. B. in 1884 cum laude (italics). Ill
health led to a postgraduate tour of the southeastern United
States and the Caribbean. In 1885 he entered Harvard Divinity
School, where his grandfather, Samuel Atkins Eliot, had once
studied as well.
In 1888, although he had not yet finished Divinity School,
the American Unitarian Association sent Sam Eliot to Seattle,
Washington as a missionary. He preached not only in Seattle,
but other Washington towns as well. However, he decided to
return east to finish his degree. Eliot was graduated from
Harvard Divinity School in 1889, and accepted the call to
Unity Church in Denver, Colorado. There he found parishioners
who craved institutional support for the generally unpopular
liberal religious point of view. Eliot responded by evangelizing
two new liberal churches, in Colorado Springs and Salt Lake
City. He also founded the Rocky Mountain Conference, a local
branch of the National Conference of Churches. Even as he
entered ministry, Sam also embarked on a boisterous family
life. He married Frances Hopkinson, the niece of his father's
second wife and the couple soon prepared to welcome the first
of their seven children. Sam scandalized many of his Denver
neighbors by joining his wife to wheel baby carriages and
play outside with their children. Every summer the Eliots
restored their spirits by joining a lively network of cousins
and friends in the Northeast Harbor part of Mt. Desert Island,
Maine.
In 1892 Eliot returned east to occupy the prestigious pulpit
of The Church of the Savior, m Brooklyn, New York. In 1894
he began serving on the Board of Directors of the AUA. His
arrival coincided with an important moment for Unitarian institutional
development, which at that time was centered in the National
Conference of Churches After fifty years of vociferous arguing
between the radical individualist humanists and corporate
traditionalists who preferred mainline Christian worship,
the Western Unitarian Conference, which prided itself on progressivism,
was reaching reconciliation with the eastern-based National
Conference of Churches, which was dominated by traditionalists.
This ended a disagreement which had begun in Theodore Parker's
day (1841) and weakened the liberal voice in every region
of the continent. Upon joining the AUA leadership, Eliot advocated
measures that would also transform the American Unitarian
Association from a publishing house for liberal spiritual
resources into to an engine of progress for both congregational
and secular organizations. He and his allies saw the new science
of Collective efficiency as a way to restore Unitarianism's
pre- Civil War social prominence. In 1898, he was elected
to the AUA's highest executive office, as its Secretary, and
left the Brooklyn pulpit for full time denominational work.
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Enjoying
a sail
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In
1900 the AUA conferred executive powers on its hitherto quiescent
presidency and elevated Eliot to the expanded position. In
his 1902 presidential address, Eliot explained his vision
to the AUA: "The officers of your Association, whether
wisely or unwisely, assume they are more than administrators
. . . They crave the exercise of prophetic gifts, and desire
to seize the large opportunities of service which open always
before our hesitating fellowship. They desire to be your officers,
not by means of the petty mechanism of of ficialism, but by
the strong, strenuous, and unwearying proclamation of truth,
by endeavoring to lead their fellow-workers to the mount of
vision from which man may see God and his righteousness, and
become aware of the fact that they are fellow-workers with
the Most High. If I may interpret the inner spirit of this
organization, it represents your effort to solve the problems
of the common good, to lead men out of isolated, self-centered
interest into the brave, self-effacing service of the modern
world."
The AUA's first executive president envisioned his task as
the restoration and expansion of a religion which was a great
offshoot from Christian Europe's Reformation. Unlike his father,
who taught that all religions would slowly merge into one
vague but spiritual whole, Sam Eliot understood religion as
a distinct realm of discreet, defined, self-disciplined denominations
and faiths. He wrote and preached regularly on Unitarianism's
roots, and initiated the contacts which eventually became
the Partner Church program. Eliot also criticized "mainline
religions" for drifting away from the theological teachings
of their founders in a search for larger membership. He feared
that as other faiths became more like Unitarianism and Universalism,
the less numerous Unitarians and Universalists would lose
their distinctive appeal.
When he became president, the American Unitarian Association
included both individuals and congregations, and displayed
a full range of wealth and education. Political opinions varied
wildly. But the nineteenth century had diminished the importance
of historic theological continuity; its new themes were aggregation
and reconciliation. Eliot and his allies expanded denominational
staff and power in service to a newer but still coherent sense
of identity and direction. During his 27 years as President,
he created a Department of Ministry, which assisted congregations
with selection of candidates for ministry, and a Department
of Social Justice, which enacted his vision of liberal religion
as a unified political force in secular society. New AUA bylaws,
adopted in 1900, called for an 18 member Board of Directors
to "have charge of all the business and interests of
the Association, the direction of its funds and operations."
With the goal of eventually replacing the federal-style National
Conference of Churches by his unitary AUA, Eliot tirelessly
advocated business method in congregational organization.
His Association allocated and loaned funds according to this
standard of congregational behavior. Because his administration
insisted that a congregation be able to repay its loans and
become selfsupporting after a few years, Eliot believed Unitarianism's
best hope for the future lay with congregations associated
with suburban communities and universities. As lack of denominational
funds began to destroy the small church Unitarianism which
had served poorer urban and rural areas for generations, Eliot's
predictions became a self-furfilling prophecy. Unitarianism
became identified with a new class of national and local social
leaders.
As summarized by Unitarian Universalist historian C. Conrad
Wright, Eliot indicated his new spirit by upgrading the AUA'ss
publishing business, introducing everything from half-tone
pictures and larger type face to more timely publications
in response to topical issues. iA publication agent was appointed
in 1901 from [which] staff position, Beacon Press ultimately
developed. Wright also notes Eliot's tendency to concentrate
authority. Semi-autonomous organizations such as the Building
Fund Committee and Sunday School Society were moved into AUA
structure, with a Board position and Executive department,
respectively. But Eliot knew firsthand that while holding
liberal beliefs was a social norm in the east, it gave rise
to social loneliness in the west, so he worked tirelessly
to minimize the distance between central denomination and
congregational membership. He proposed to position denominational
presence at the local level by creating what are now our district
executives and offices. To ensure ministers in the west, he
instituted a new seminary, which has become Starr King School
for the Ministry.
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Portrait
and signature, circa 1908
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Eliot
conquered distance with energetic personal outreach. Throughout
his presidency, he traveled the continent to conduct worship
and discuss administration in face to face connections with
his constituents. The enduring strength of his reputation
rests as much on these famously warm exchanges as any systems
he set up or errors he made. Eliot shared his ancestral families)
love of traditional music and worship, so his administration
put together a denomination-wide book of Unitarian hymns and
liturgy. A moderate advocate of humanism, Eliot praised the
dignity of each worshiper in relations with God. But Eliot
was no secular individualist. Echoing Unitarianism's Puritan
forebears, he doubted whether a person could maintain spiritual
health without congregational support. He preached that the
dangers of "unbelief" equaled the dangers of "wrong
belief.' This affection for the gathered company of Unitarians
continued after his presidency, when he served a single pulpit
(Boston's Arlington Street Church) for the remainder of his
career.
An attentive church historian, Eliot was usually an advocate
of Unitarian distinctiveness. But he made one major exception.
Beginning in 1899, Eliot worked to further ties between the
Unitarians and Universalists. He believed that they were each
tending liberal faiths whose martyrs had created a great and
liberal religion; therefore, modern practitioners of Unitarianism
and Universalism were entitled to reap the rewards of their
forebears) sacrifices. And the two denominations had already
found it more practical to cooperate in local projects than
to quarrel over their few real theological differences. Ever
efficient, Eliot believed their common vision could best be
evangelized through institutional cooperation, if not eventual
unity.
Unfortunately, the record of Sam Eliot's accomplishments in
denominational administration has been sullied by his adherence
to some then common social prejudices. Along with allies in
the National Conference of Churches, Eliot set a high priority
on the promotion and protection of an elite professional ministry.
This they defined as the style of language and social skills
imparted by advanced university degrees; they looked with
suspicion on skills gained through apprenticeship and practical
experience. The Unitarians' primary seminary, Harvard Divinity
School, was expensive and did not admit women students until
1955, so this policy had long-lasting ramifications for both
men and women. Eliot wanted scientific administration to counterbalance
personal parish relationships. He also wanted "men"
(his word, despite the presence of women among his own generation
of colleagues) noted for oratorical prowess. Such rigid credentialing
undercut the tradition of less affluent religious men (and
some women) preparing for ordination by serving a congregation
part time while supporting their families with weekday secular
occupations.
Eliot undercut those Unitarian women who had achieved ordination
in his generation. Eliot supported the full development of
women's character and skills, including those of his wife
and daughters, but he shared the widespread Victorian view
that woman's sphere was domestic life. However, the Civil
War had tragically and radically reduced the number of men
compared to women. Unitarian parishes (along with Universalists
and Congregationalists) therefore began to ordain women who
had completed professional training for ministry or who excelled
in parish leadership. This was particularly attractive to
less secure congregations of the western frontier, who were
too poor and isolated to attract candidates from the shrinking
pool of professional male ministers. Nor did such ministers
show much skill in spiritual interpretation of frontier life.
But the female ministers articulated an ecclesiology of family
virtues, congregational hospitality, popular empowerment (including
women's suffrage) and practical community service. Their views
contrasted sharply with Eliot's emphasis on authority for
the pulpit, so when they visited headquarters in Boston, Eliot
snubbed his female colleagues. He offered only limited assistance
to their congregations, ostensibly due to management issues.
After World War I, popular sentiment shifted toward Eliot's
more conservative views, and against women in such powerful
professions. It would take more than half a century to recover
this right.
Although the Unitarians of Eliot's generation were able to
reconcile some of their theological differences, they clashed
on other fronts. The advent of World War I produced a painful
incident, for which apologies were later extended. Several
prominent ministers preached pactfism, a view widely held
among those who remembered the carnage of the War Between
the States and Europe's more recent Franco-Prussian conflict.
William Howard Taft, former US President, was a leader in
the National Conference of Churches, which controlled the
list of fellowshipped' ministers; he persuaded the Conference
to de-list any minister who did not support the new war. The
AUA followed suit by limiting financial assistance to congregations
maintaining such ministers. In response, John Haynes Holmes
and The Community Church of New York City withdrew from the
Association. Although Holmes was able to preserve personal
ties with Beacon Street, and Community Church eventually returned
to the Unitarian fold, other pactfist clergy lost their livelihoods.
This chain of events is often associated with Sam Eliot, even
though the National Conference and the AUA were officially
two different bodies, with different annual meetings and boards
of directors. Yet the memory of this silencing still buttresses
Unitarian Universalist support for political freedom of the
pulpit.
Eliot's support for the war was part of a wider vision linking
secular citizenship and religious community. His personality
and social vision fit the era's enthusiasm for building a
better world through expanded and efficient administration,
which in turn harmonized with Protestant New England's tradition
of interfaith nonprofit philanthropic organizations.
Courtesy of the
Dictionary of American Biography
In 1989 a grandson of Dr. Eliot was among the founders of
the Williamsburg Unitarian Universalists in Virginia. In 1998
he delivered the following words of dedication of their small
Samuel Atkins Eliot Library.
"Your Affectionate
SAE"
by Michael McGiffert, grandson
My
brother, my sister, and I called him Grandpa.
I
remember . . . when I was eight years old, helping celebrate
his 75th birthday by dancing like a little Indian on the big
porch of his summer home in Maine. Grandpa was interested
in Indians.
I
remember . . . rushing with my brother up the circular stairs
inside the old tower of the Bunker Hill Battlefield Monument
to check (we were told) for cracks in the masonry. Grandpa
was one of the monument's honorary custodians.
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Eliot
seated second left with staff at
25 Beacon Street
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I remember . . .
his skill at Chinese Checkers. He played the black marbles;
he was the "sinister minister black."
I
remember . . . his strong tenor voice raised in nautical ballads
like "A Capital Ship for an Ocean Trip Was the Walloping
Window Blind."
I
remember . . . his remarking, as he pushed back his chair
after Sunday dinner at home, "I have eaten to my sanctification.
Any more would be flippus-flappus."
My
grandfather seemed taller than most men and wiser. I remember
his dignity and calm, his kindliness, his twinkling mild good
humor. He took grandchildren seriously, if a bit remotely.
He appeared pleased to have so many that seemed promising.
These are
a child's glimpses, looking up. But later, as I grew, he seemed
no less tall and hardly less wise. After he died, I learned
to think of him as "SAE." That's how he signed his
letters to his seven offspring: "Your Affectionate SAE."
SAESamuel
Atkins Eliotwas born in 1862 in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
He was born Unitarian, and he became a Unitarian minister.
For nearly fifty years, he served churches coast to coast
from Seattle and Denver to Brooklyn and Boston. His calling
took him far afield, but the heartland Unitarian community
of New England was his spiritual center and main base of operations.
From Boston, for over a quarter-century, he led the denomination
as president of the American Unitarian Association. He died
at age 88 in 1950.
One
of his sons-in-law, my father, wrote his biography; he titled
it Pilot of a Liberal Faith. What I will tell you comes
from this book, mostly in SAE's own words. The Library has
a copy of the book.
Religion
was a constant, quiet presence in SAE's childhood home. It
was, he recalled, a "very simple, uncomplicated sort
of religion, not much talked about but practiced in an unpretentious
sort of way. A somewhat reticent but unclouded confidence
in the nearness and goodness of God was taken for granted."
A
Unitarian first and always, SAE knew neither the wrench of
religious conversion nor the stress of changing churches.
"I am what the psychologists call a 'once-born' man .
. . . I was never convicted of sin, never imagined myself
a 'lost soul,' . . . never found any special grace of God
in the ceremonies of the sacramental churches, never was influencedexcept
by way of revulsionby the excesses of revivalism."
Why, he asked, "should I be reconciled to God when I
have never been alienated from him?"
Religion,
for SAE, meant "honest thinking and helpful doing."
At college he discovered "the splendid fun of using one's
own mind," and he used his mind for ethical and practical
purposes. What he said about one of his teachers describes
himself: "he could be serious without being pedantic,
playful without being flippant, critically acute without being
acrid, candid without being rude."
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Eliot
at left, as an actor in Harvard's
Hasty Pudding Theatricals
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He was not, by his
own admission, a deep or complex thinker. He told this story
on himself: once, in a divinity school class, when he began
a practice sermon with the words "I think," the
professor raised his hand. "Hold on," he said, "do
you not exaggerate?"
SAE
was a doer, a builder. His word of highest praise for a person,
an idea, or an act was "serviceable." He looked
outward, and he looked out for others. He wanted Unitarian
churches to be "sources of public-spirited activity,
bulwarks o f a united civic society." In his ministry,
he sought to unite "creative imagination and astute action."
He gave his
strength to building Unitarianism nation-wide. Churches in
all parts of the country owe their being or well-being to
his stewardship. He put the AUA on a firm financial footing;
his leadership animated the organization, enhanced its role
in denominational life, and gave Unitarianism a national presence
and mission. Ecumenical in his views, he helped open discussions
leading to the union of Unitarians and Universalists.
A social
activist, SAE worked for such causes as prison reform and
justice for American Indians. As a young pastor in Denver,
i n the 1880s,
he joined with a rabbi and a Catholic priest to initiate the
nation's first Community Chest, forerunner of the United Way.
His outreach was international: in his late years, in the
1940s, he founded the organization Children to Palestine to
rescue young survivors of the Holocaust.
He
characteristically sought "the harmonies of religious
thought and life rather than the discords." His idea
of ministry was democratic: he worked to bring people together
in common tasks, and he urged his congregations to lead themselves.
When on occasion he met with opposition, he explained it as
the "necessary friction" that could spark constructive
thought and positive action.
SAE's
sermons and other published writings presented liberal religion
to a broad audience. "Liberalism," for him, was
"not a definite system but a habit of mind, an attitude
of spirit, and a way of life." He valued a knowledge
of Unitarian history as "part of our present energy."
SAE's
body and mind remained vigorous far into old age. He said:
"I've never seemed to find time to devote to the process
known as growing old." Ever building, he viewed life
itself as an "incomplete experience." He wrote to
an old friend, "You and I must die with our tasks unfinished
and our goals unreached. But what of that? . . . Consummation
[would be] an utter bore." Though he could not envision
a conventional immortality, he saw "that something called
death" as an incident "in the continuous history
of a soul."
He was a
future-minded man. "Such thinking as I am capable of,"
he said, "is commonly and temperamentally in terms of
tomorrow." He liked "fresh forays of the mind and
the recasting of institutions." His face turned ever
forward.
A practical visionary,
Samuel Atkins Eliot gave his powers to the work of human
betterment. Men and women found inspiration in his hopeful
spirit, challenge in his gift for forging opportunities,
wisdom in his clear-eyed appraisal of the open-endedness
of all results. I like to think that, were he among us,
he would bless us and urge us onward with his cheery words,
"Your affectionate
SAE."
I AM SAD TO HAVE
RETIRED
by Arthur Cushman McGiffert, Jr., Biographer and Son-in-Law
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50-year
celebration, seated l. to r. Mrs Lawrence G. Brooks,
Samuel Atkins Eliot, William Roger Greeley.
Standing l. to r. Frederick May Eliot,
Dana McLean Greeley
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"I am sad to
have retired," Eliot wrote to a friend shortly after
he became minister emeritus of Arlington Street Church,
"but I was never busier and have to paddle hard to keep
my head above water." Not having led what he called a
single life devoted exclusively to one pursuit, he found himself
at no loss for occupation, nor did he feel himself to be no
longer needed when at the age of seventy-three he ended his
career of ministerial leadership.
"I have been honored by having been chosen at one time
or another to be president of the Massachusetts Council of
Churches and of the Boston Council of Churches and of the
Religious Education Association and of the International Council,
and I've served on sundry interdenominational commissions
like the World Alliance for Friendship Through the Churches."
Retirement did not cause him to sever these connections; nor
was the list of the religious organizations complete. He became
a vice-president of the Massachusetts Bible Society (1947-48)
and a member of the Greater Boston Advisory Board of the Salvation
Army (1949). He also failed to mention the General Theological
Library in Boston, of which he became president and for which
he continued to raise money. The Library expressed for him,
at second hand, his lifelong and many-sided interest in ministers
who were living on very small salaries.
Eliot was occasionally consulted about denominational problems.
Ten years after his resignation from the presidency of the
AUA, the latter undertook an appraisal of its methods and
form of organization. The Commission of Appraisal commended
itself to Eliot because its members were not "rainbow
chasers or fabricators of dreams. They dealt with things immediately
practical."
He was one of the founders of the National Association for
the Advancement of Colored People and of the Urban league,
became a trustee of Tuskegee Institute and put Booker T. Washington
on the map as a wise and reliable leader of his race.
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While
minister at Arlington Street Church
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In 1943 Eliot accepted
an invitation to help start an agency to assist Jewish children
who were the victims of German Nazism. What he described as
his happy association with synagogue and temple"
ran back to the very beginning of his ministry. While still
a Divinity School student, he preached in the Temple Emmanuel
in San Francisco. When he was ordained in Denver, a young
rabbi stood with him and took part in the service.
"I
should like to bear witness," he wrote in a published
address on "Liberal Christianity in the United States,"
"to the ethical contribution which Reformed Judaismproportionately,
the wealthiest religious communion in America has made
to the national life. The Reformed Jews have set high standards
of education and family devotion, and they have set in motion
the wisest and most thorough systems of charity."
During
his ministry at the Arlington Street Church Eliot regularly
exchanged pulpits with Rabbi Harry Levi of Temple Israel.
On the occasion of the 50th anniversary of Eliot's ordination,
the Rabbinical Association of Greater Boston sponsored a Thanksgiving
Service in Temple Kehillath Israel, Brookline, to pay tribute
to him.
Eliot had always liked to decimalize time. He customarily
celebrated anniversaries of the birth of notable people and
events as well as family birthdays and holidays. During the
last dozen years of his life other people celebrated him at
several different public meetings.
"In recognition of distinguished service to the cause
of liberal religion," the American Unitarian Association
in May 1950 presented Eliot with the Second Annual Awardjust
five months before his death. The occasion marked the fiftieth
anniversary of his election to the Association's presidency,
the one hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary of the Association's
founding, and the fiftieth anniversary of the International
Association for Liberal Christianity and Religious Freedom
which he had organized.
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Eliots
with grown-up family
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During his last
years Eliot continued his historical writing, in particular
picking up a task he had had to let drop a quarter of a century
earlier. In anticipation of the one hundredth anniversary
of the AUA he had spent some summer vacations collecting and
editing materials for a fourth volume of Heralds of a Liberal
Faith.
The
period he coveredthe last decades of the nineteenth
and early decades of the twentieth centuriescoincided
with his own ministry. In fact he knew personally all but
six of the more than two hundred men and women whose careers
were narrated. He wrote sixteen of the biographical sketches
and secured writers for the others. His invitations to these
colleagues contained a set phrase which discloses explicitly
his long-held idea of how biography should be written: "We
desire a picture of a man himself rather than a description
of his multifarious labors and interests. This fourth
volume of Heralds of a Liberal Faith was issued by
Beacon Press in 1952, two years after Eliots death.
Less than
a year before his death Eliot restated his thoughts about
death in this way: "That something called death is just
one of those incidents in the continuous history of a soul.
. . One can face the remaining days and whatever comes after
with undisturbed serenity." Yet he was not immune to
a "certain instinct of physical recoil against death."
Agnosticism retained occasional standing-room in his mind
almost to the end of his days. "Shall we live after what
we call death?" he asked himself and others. "We
don't know and we can't know," was his answer. He thought
it an "interesting speculation," but "even
if there is no continued consciousness, life is still a happy
miracle."
He slipped away on October 16, 1950, in his 89th
year. A tablet placed by the Arlington Street church in Eliots
memory reads:
Preacher
Administrator
Civic Servant and Friend
Recommended Reading
Pilot of a Liberal Faith: Samuel Atkins Eliot, 1862-1950.
by Arthur Cushman McGiffert, Jr. (Boston: Beacon Press,
1976).
Heralds of a Liberal Faith: Volume Four, The Pilots.
by Samuel Atkins Eliot (Boston: Beacon Press, 1952).
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