Part I
The Millenarian Tradition
Chapter One
The Hope of the Millennium
Historical understanding of millenarianism does not come easily these days. In the first place, it is couched largely in the language of theology, and employs technical terms with which we are no longer familiar. Our vocabulary is provided by the sociologist and psychologist rather than the theologian. We have to make a conscious effort at translation even to grasp what the millenarians are saying. More formidable, however, is a second obstacle. In our present secular age many people find it difficult to take seriously a belief in the millennium, and by projecting this disbelief into their view of the past they preclude themselves from a sympathetic understanding of earlier millenarians. It is puzzling when we find intelligent people expressing beliefs which we can see only as errors and delusions; but this is often a measure of our anachronistic blindness. We simply fail to see the force or logic of something which does not rest on our own intellectual assumptions, and so we are incredulous.1 Even if the beliefs were in fact mistaken or delusional, it is still important to try to understand them, for history is full of examples of erroneous or evil ideas which were all too effective. In the case of millennialism its longevity and capacity for adaptation should be a caution against dismissing it as an intellectual oddity. A great many people in all walks of life in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries took the idea of the millennium seriously, and accordingly worked out a variety of intellectual positions and established millennial institutions. In general this book will be an exploration of belief in the millennium rather than an examination of millennial theories themselves. Nevertheless, the two are obviously intertwined, and some definition of the millennium is necessary.
At the start it is perhaps useful to remember the strength and persistence of millennialism in the Christian church at all times from its beginning. Millennialism is to be regarded not as an aberration but rather as an extreme form of one aspect of orthodox faith. Jesus' teachings about the kingdom, the last days and the coming of the messiah in glory and majesty were taken literally by his disciples, and after His death the Apostolic church continued to believe in a second coming which would not long be delayed. When the great promises of the second advent were not literally fulfilled they were subjected to interpretation, so that the apocalyptic tradition was not discarded but adjusted to the new situation. From the early church there was handed down a body of inspired prophecy, the core of which was contained in the books of Daniel and Revelation, the Apocrypha and the 'synoptic Apocalypse' of Jesus himself.2 Throughout the history of the Christian church the interpretation of this prophetic literature was the basis of innumerable theories and speculations. In particular, the symbolic prophecies of Daniel 7 and 8 and Revelation 14 fascinated generations of Christians, who exercised untold ingenuity in their exposition of the meaning of the 'beasts' and 'horns' and the 'mother of the harlots'. The object of this interpretation was to throw light on the nature of the millennium and its relation to Jesus' second coming, a doctrine to which all professed Christians were, in some form or other, committed.
There was general agreement in millennial theology that the world was to be transformed by the second coming of Christ and the establishment of the kingdom of God on earth. This state would last for 1.000 years, after which would come the last judgment. During the period of the millennium the saints (i.e., the Christian martyrs and all faithful Christians who have suffered) would reign with Christ. There were differences of view, however, between those Christians who believed that Christ's second coming would precede the millennium (premillennialists) and those who thought that the second advent would follow the millennium (postmillennialists). From these differences stemmed others. The premillennialists were predisposed towards the establishment of the millennium by divine, cataclysmic action, whereas the postmillennialists were prone to think that the kingdom of God would come gradually as the result of Christian, human instrumentalities. For either of these views there was ample scriptural support, so that the choice between a revolutionary or reformist interpretation had to be made on other than theological grounds. Among premillennialists there was a further division between those who believed that the second advent had already occurred and the millennium had begun, and those who still looked for these events in the future. Again, among both pre- and postmillennialists anticipation of the millennium could provoke either pessimism or optimism, depending on whether the imminent end of the world was dreaded or welcomed.
From these differences in interpretation and emphasis a variety of types of millennial concern was possible, ranging from sophisticated study of the biblical books of prophecy to divine revelations concerning the immediate arrival of Christ on earth. Throughout the eighteenth and first half of the nineteenth centuries the first of these forms never lacked able exponents. Contemporary events like the Lisbon earthquake of 1755 were interpreted as evidence of the fulfilment of biblical prophecies. Above all, the French Revolution excited a spate of interpretations on both sides of the Atlantic designed to show that the world was entering upon the last days. Millennialism was widely espoused by leading scholars and divines. In America the names of Timothy Dwight (President of Yale), John H. Livingston (President of Rutgers) and Joseph Priestley come to mind: in Britain, George Stanley Faber, Edward King, and Edward Irving.3 A spate of pamphlets and sermons by Church of England clergy and orthodox American ministers poured forth from the 1790s; and there was constant reference back to the prophetical studies of Sir Isaac Newton, Joseph Mede, and William Whiston. The usual method of interpretation was some variant of the year-day theory, by which days mentioned in the prophecies were counted as years, weeks as seven-year periods, and months as thirty years. There was general agreement in the late eighteenth century that the 1,260 days mentioned in Revelation 12:6 were to be interpreted as 1,260 years, and that this period was now ended. An alternative theory, which became increasingly popular after 1800, emphasized the importance of the 2,300-year period of Daniel 8:14 and the 'cleansing of the sanctuary' which would fall due some time in the 1840s. The fulfilment of the time prophecies meant that mankind was living in the last days, that the 'midnight cry' might soon be heard, and that the coming of the messiah might be expected shortly. Such beliefs had an influence far beyond the members of explicitly adventist sects. They were part and parcel of everyday evangelical religion.
Our concern, however, is not with these, the intellectually sophisticated millennialists; but with the popular, largely self-educated, adventist millenarians.4 They are the people condemned by the opulent classes as fanatics and imposters, and by historians as cranks and the lunatic fringe. The distinction between what may be called respectable, orthodox, scholarly millennialism on the one hand, and popular (or folk) millenarianism on the other is useful for analytical purposes,5 but the division is not hard and fast. Those who believed in the millennium had the option of combining so many variables that a millennialist or a millenarian could be placed at any point along a continuum of belief. Millennialism and millenarianism were ways of looking at the world, rather than specific doctrines.6 This was at the root of the difference between the millennialism of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century divines and scholars (many of them fellows of Cambridge colleges), and the popular millenarian tradition stemming from the radical sects of the English Revolution. It is the tone and temper of the popular millenarians, the way in which they used the texts and symbols from Daniel and Revelation, which is distinctive. They were the enthusiasts, the fanatics, the come-outers. Their beliefs were derived from a literal, eclectic interpretation of the prophetic scriptures, and a divine revelation vouchsafed to them directly. A simplicity, often crudity, seemed to mark their mentality, for their reliance on the supernatural enabled them to dispense with many of the limitations imposed by logic and reason. Moderation and gradualness did not commend themselves as virtues, but rather were signs of lack of faith. The basic principles of good and evil in the world were crystal clear, and life was to be lived by the light of this absolute standard, with no compromises.
The relationship between these popular millenarians and the more respectable millennialists illuminates several aspects of belief in the millennium in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. Both types accepted the same canonical writings, and disagreement was over interpretation, not the sources themselves. Millennialists and millenarians had a common set of symbols, texts and assumptions —many of which they also shared with the Protestant evangelical community at large. On matters of biblical prophecy, for instance, there were divisions over the timing and the sense in which prophecies would be fulfilled. But underlying these differences were more fundamental questions of the social functions of prophecy at a particular time and for a particular group of people. The millennium provided a common language and set of images and concepts in which people could express both individual and collective needs (and in which at times the two might even be merged7); but it remained a mode of expression, a means of communication, rather than an end with an agreed meaning and programme. The deepest differences between the millennialists and the millenarians were not about the interpretation of the millennium, but about the purposes for which such interpretation was made.
In comparison with the mulenniahsts, the millenarians seem somewhat old-fashioned. From a postmillennial position it is easy to assume that the kingdoms of this world will eventually become those of Christ, that through the endeavours of Christians the world will get better and better, until finally it is worthy to receive Christ at his second coming. In the eighteenth century millenniahsts increasingly came to equate this doctrine with the idea of progress. The millennium was secularized into a Utopia or perfect state of society, to be attained through a gradual and steady march of improvement. Providence was integrated into the concept of natural law.8 In sharp contrast with this optimistic, reassuring, Augustan view, the premillennialist (or millenarian) expected no such comforting progression. Convinced that the world was evil, he looked for sudden divine intervention to destroy the existing order and establish the millennium. Such a view was out of step with the usual Enlightenment thinking on political events and historical causation. It has the air of an old-fashioned, popular ideology, unaffected by contemporary intellectual and theological trends - more suited to the seventeenth than to the eighteenth century, until the revolutionary upheavals of the 1790s suddenly made it seem attractive again. One is reminded of the famous theory of Dixon Ryan Fox that the ideas of the educated and upper classes of one generation are cast off and picked up by the next generation of lower classes: 'the cast-off garments of the intellectuals of one age are found, albeit soiled and ragged, on the backs of the ignorant many in the next.9 The millennial ideas of the learned New England divines of the 1790s, argued Fox, appeared a generation or so later among the Mormons and Millerites. On reflection, however, the model of ideas dropping down from one social layer to another (Fox's 'stratigraphical chart' of intellect) scarcely fits the case. Fox made no distinction between millennialists and millenarians, since he was concerned solely with the ideas of the millennium and not with how and why those ideas were held. Moreover, his supposition of a time-lag in the transmission of ideas between classes does not square with the chronology of millennialists and millenarians, who flourished contemporaneously in the period 1780 to 1850. We cannot argue that millenarians derived their doctrines from the millennialists of a previous generation, for millenarian ideas flourished in the sixteenth century and in the Middle Ages. The context in which doctrines are held is of course a vital factor in their historical evaluation. To be a millenarian in the mid nineteenth century meant something different from holding similar millenarian views two centuries earlier. The doctrines of the millennium could remain more or less the same: the hope of the millennium changed greatly.
The traditional meaning of millenarianism was derived from Revelation 20, the events therein being taken in a strictly literal sense. Satan was to be bound fast and the saints would reign with Christ on earth for 1,000 years; after which Satan would be released and finally defeated. But millenarianism also has a wider meaning, extending beyond its theological or doctrinal origins. It is a type of salvationism. The search for salvation, variously defined, is a main preoccupation of most religious movements, and millenarianism can be identified by its distinctive characteristics in this respect. At least five such qualities appear to be present in most millenarian movements.10 First, the salvation sought is conceived as being for the faithful as a group - the saints, the true believers - and not as each individual seeking by himself to save his own soul. Next, this salvation is to be enjoyed in a kingdom on this earth, and it is to come soon and suddenly. It will be total in its effects: the present evil world will not be improved, but utterly destroyed, and replaced by a perfect society. Lastly, the change will come about by divine agency, not by human efforts. Men seek salvation for many reasons, and look for it in many forms. One man's concern will be to find salvation from illness, anxiety or grief: another's will be to save the world. Men will seek to be healed, to be recognized as important, to protect themselves from adversity, to change the social order. What they have in common is the hope that through the millennium these things will be realized.
For most of this book we shall be occupied, as historians usually are, with very specific examples of millenarian belief and activity. Only by naming names (often quite obscure ones) and relating them closely to a particular context can we hope to attain historical understanding. But millenarianism can be (and is being) studied from many different angles by anthropologists, psychiatrists, sociologists, political scientists, and theologians; and the historian is not in such a strong position that he can afford to ignore the benefits of interdisciplinary study. Thus in considering millenarianism as a type of salvationism we may gain from the sociologists some useful hints on typology which would stand us in good stead when examining specific millenarian sects later. By the use of theoretical models we may be able to sort out some of the divergent and confusing positions of those who are loosely grouped together as millenarians.
For this purpose Bryan R. Wilson's approach in his Magic and the Millennium is perhaps the most useful.11 Wilson classifies the seekers after salvation by their responses to the world, and identifies seven types of response. The conversionist believes that only by changing men can the world be changed, and he looks for salvation through an experience of conversion which will profoundly alter a man's heart. He is saved now, even though the objective world is not yet changed. In contrast, the revolutionist is convinced that only the destruction of the world (and usually he means the present social order) will suffice to save men. This will be brought about by divine, cataclysmic intervention, and believers know that they can really do little more than prepare themselves and others for this imminent overturning. A third response is to withdraw from the world, since it is so hopelessly evil. The introversionist may do this as an individual or as a member of a community, and in the latter case the source of salvation is the community itself. Less radical in rejecting the world and all its works is the belief that salvation is possible in the world if men will adopt the right means to deal with their problems. This is the manipulationist's response. It is not at all otherworldly, and consists basically of applying religious techniques which allow men to see the world differently and explain evil away. A similar, but narrower type of response is the thaumaturgical. Relief from present ills is sought by means of magic. Such salvation is personal and local, and does not as a rule call for any elaborate doctrine. Another response, the reformist, is close to the position of secular social reformers, and in fact differs only in positing divine guidance. The intention is to amend the world gradually in the light of supernaturally given insights. Lastly, there is the Utopian response in which men seek to constru...