[Illustration: I remain as ever looking for the Lord Jesus Christ unto
eternal life.
Wm. Miller.]
LIFE OF WILLIAM MILLER.
SKETCHES
OF
THE CHRISTIAN LIFE
AND
PUBLIC LABORS
OF
WILLIAM MILLER,
GATHERED FROM HIS MEMOIR BY THE LATE SYLVESTER
BLISS, AND FROM OTHER SOURCES.
BY ELDER JAMES WHITE.
STEAM PRESS
OF THE SEVENTH-DAY ADVENTIST PUBLISHING ASSOCIATION,
BATTLE CREEK, MICH.
1875.
INTRODUCTION.
Before us is a plain volume, the title page of which reads, “Memoir of
William Miller generally known as a Lecturer on the Prophecies and the
Second Coming of Christ, by Sylvester Bliss, author of Analysis of Sacred
Chronology, a brief Commentary on the Apocalypse,” etc.
Mr. Bliss was for more than twenty years the local and able conductor of
the _Advent Herald_, which sustained the leading doctrines promulgated
by Mr. Miller, published at Boston, Mass. The publisher of this volume,
Elder Joshua V. Himes, Mr. Miller’s intimate fellow-laborer and friend,
in his preface says:—
“The name of William Miller, of Low Hampton, N. Y., is too well known
to require an extended introduction; but while well known, few men have
been more diversely regarded than he. Those who have only heard his name
associated with all that is hateful in fanaticism, have necessarily
formed opinions respecting him anything but complimentary to his
intelligence and sanity; but those who knew him better, esteemed him as
a man of more than ordinary mental power, a cool, sagacious, and honest
reasoner, a humble and devout Christian, a kind and affectionate friend,
a man of great moral and social worth.
“However his public labors may be regarded by a majority of the
community, it will be seen, by a perusal of his life, that these were
by no means unproductive of great good. The revivals of religion which
attended his labors are testified to by those who participated in them;
and hundreds of souls will ever refer to him as a means, under God, of
their awakening and conversion.”
“As the public learn to discriminate between the actual position of Mr.
Miller and that which prejudice has conceived that he occupied, his
conservativeness, and his disapprobation of every fanatical practice will
be admitted, and a much more just estimate will be had of him.”
We hold that the great movement upon the second advent question, which
commenced with the writings and public lectures of William Miller, has
been, in its leading features, in fulfillment of prophecy. Consistent
with this view, we also hold that in the providence of God Mr. Miller
was raised up to do a specific work; therefore to us the history of the
important events in his Christian life and public labors possess peculiar
interest.
It is true that Mr. Miller and his associates and numerous friends were
disappointed in the definite time of the second coming of Christ. And
as might be expected from the nature of the case, those who have not
sufficient interest to investigate the subject, especially those who are
opposed to the doctrine of the soon coming of the Redeemer, conclude that
the second advent movement has been a fanatical mistake.
But we take a more favorable view of this matter. We hold that Mr. Miller
was correct in three of the four fundamental points of Adventism, while
on the fourth he was mistaken. But even this one mistake, viewed in the
light of Scripture and reason, does not in the least affect his general
position.
1. Mr. Miller was correct in his views of the pre-millennial second
appearing of Christ. No doctrine is more plainly stated and more fully
sustained by the sacred Scriptures than the personal appearing and reign
of Jesus Christ. And whatever may be said of the views and labors of
Mr. Miller, this fact will not be denied, that very many ministers of
the different denominations changed their views upon the millennium,
renouncing the popular view of the conversion of the world, and the
spiritual coming and reign of Jesus Christ.
2. Mr. Miller was correct in his application of the prophetic symbols
of Daniel and John. In this he is sustained by Protestant expositors
generally.
3. He was also correct in his exposition and application of the prophetic
periods. The dates fixed upon have stood the test of the most rigid
criticism. And those Adventists who have changed to other dates have done
so simply because of the passing by of the first periods of expectation.
4. But Mr. Miller was mistaken in the event to occur at the close of the
prophetic periods, hence his disappointment. In the case of the 2300 days
of Dan. 8, which period was the main pillar in his calculations, his
error was in supposing the earth to be the sanctuary of that prophecy,
and that it was to be cleansed by the fires of the last day.
The primary signification of the word sanctuary is “a sacred place.”
Neither the earth, nor any portion of it, has been such a place since the
fall of man, and the reign of Satan and of death began. The apostle’s
commentary upon the typical system, in his epistle to the Hebrews, points
to two sacred places as the sanctuary of Jehovah; first, the typical
tabernacle of the Jews; and, second, the greater and more perfect
tabernacle of which Christ is now minister in Heaven.[1]
But other great men have made as grave mistakes relative to the event to
occur at the close of the great periods of Daniel as Mr. Miller. These,
however, are soon forgotten, while that of Mr. Miller is ever fresh in
the public mind. The learned late Geo. Bush, Prof. of Hebrew and Oriental
Literature in the New York City University, in a letter addressed to Mr.
Miller, and published in the _Advent Herald_ for March, 1844, made some
very important admissions relative to his calculations of the prophetic
times. Mr. Bush says:—
“Neither is it to be objected, as I conceive, to yourself or your
friends, that you have devoted much time and attention to the study of
the _chronology_ of prophecy, and have labored much to determine the
commencing and closing dates of its great periods. If these periods are
actually given by the Holy Ghost in the prophetic books, it was doubtless
with the design that they _should_ be studied, and probably, in the end,
fully understood; and no man is to be charged with presumptuous folly who
reverently makes the attempt to do this. On this point, I have myself
no charges to bring against you. Nay, I am even ready to go so far as
to say that I do not conceive your errors on the subject of chronology
to be at all of a serious nature, or, in fact, to be _very_ wide of the
truth. In taking a _day_ as the prophetical term for a _year_, I believe
you are sustained by the soundest exegesis, as well as fortified by the
high names of Mede, Sir Isaac Newton, Bishop Newton, Kirby, Scott,
Keith, and a host of others, who have long since come to _substantially_
your conclusions on this head. They all agree that the leading periods
mentioned by Daniel and John do actually expire _about this age of the
world_, and it would be a strange logic that would convict you of heresy
for holding in effect the same views which stand forth so prominent in
the notices of these eminent divines. Your error, as I apprehend, lies in
another direction than your _chronology_.”
Here Prof. Bush speaks frankly and truthfully, and his words of candor
and wisdom sustain the Adventists in that feature of their faith most
objectionable to their opponents. But what was the event for which Mr.
Bush looked to mark the termination of the 2300 days? Let the following
extract from the same letter to Mr. Miller answer:—
“You have entirely mistaken _the nature of the events_ which are to
occur when those periods have expired. This is the head and front of
your expository offending. You have _assumed_ that the close of the
2300 days of Daniel, for instance, is also the close of the period of
human probation, that it is the epoch of the visible and personal second
coming of Christ—of the resurrection of the righteous dead, and of the
dissolution of the present mundane system. The great event before the
world is not its _physical conflagration_, but its _moral regeneration_.
Although there is doubtless a sense in which Christ may be said to come
in connection with the passing away of the fourth empire and of the
Ottoman power, and his kingdom to be illustriously established, yet that
will be found to be a _spiritual coming_ in the power of his gospel, in
the ample outpouring of his Spirit, and the glorious administration of
his providence.”
Evidently, Mr. Bush looked for the conversion of the world as the event
to mark the termination of the 2300 days. Both Mr. Miller and Mr. Bush
were right on the time question, and both were mistaken in the event to
occur at the close of the great periods. Mr. Miller held that the world
would be regenerated by fire, and Mr. Bush, by the gospel, at the end of
the 2300 days. The conversion-of-the-world theory of Mr. Bush has had
the terrible test of the last thirty-two years of apostasy, spiritual
darkness, and crime. This period has been noted by departures from
the faith of the gospel, and apostasies from the Christian religion.
Infidelity in various forms, especially in the name of spiritualism, has
spread over the Christian world with fearful rapidity, while the dark
record of crime has been blackening since Prof. Bush addressed his letter
to Wm. Miller. If this be the commencement of the temporal millennium,
may the Lord save us from the balance. Both these great men mistook the
event to terminate the 2300 days. And why should Mr. Miller be condemned
for his mistake, and Mr. Bush be excused for his unscriptural conclusion?
In the name of reason and justice we plead that, while the Christian
world excuses Prof. Bush for his mistake, professedly pious men and women
will not too severely censure Mr. Miller for his.
If it be objected that the second advent movement, as introduced in our
country by Mr. Miller, could not have been in harmony with Providence,
in fulfillment of prophecy, because those who engaged in it were
disappointed, then we suggest that, if God’s people never have been
disappointed on the very point of their expectation when prophecy was
being fulfilled in their experience and history, then it may be that
prophecy has not been fulfilled in the advent movement. But if one
instance can be shown in Sacred History where prophecy was fulfilled by
those who were entirely incorrect on the vital point of their confident
expectation, then, after all, prophecy may have been fulfilled in the
great second advent movement of 1840-4. This matter should be fully
tested.
The prophet of God had uttered these words about five hundred years
before their fulfillment: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout,
O daughter of Jerusalem; behold, thy King cometh unto thee; he is just,
and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon an ass.” Zech. 9:9. In
fulfillment of this prophecy, while Christ was riding into Jerusalem in
the very humble manner expressed by the prophet, the chosen twelve, and
the shouting multitude, cried, “Hosanna to the son of David! Blessed is
he that cometh in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” Matt.
21:9. The people, and even the disciples, did not as yet understand the
nature of Christ’s kingdom; and they verily thought that Jesus would
on that occasion claim his right to the throne of David, and then, and
there, be crowned king of Israel.
And when Jesus was requested to rebuke his disciples, he replied, “I tell
you that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately
cry out.” Prophecy had gone forth, and must be fulfilled, if the Spirit
of God from necessity should call hosannas from the very stones.
But the people did not understand the nature of prophetic fulfillment of
their time; and their disappointment was complete. In a few days they
witnessed the dying agonies of the Son of God upon the cross, and as
Christ died, their hopes in him died also. Nevertheless, prophecy was
fulfilled in the ardent hopes and triumphant hosannas of those who were
so soon overwhelmed with bitterest disappointment.
In gathering material for this work, we have copied very largely from
Mr. Bliss, especially from the correspondence and writings of Mr. Miller
which are incorporated into his Memoir. And we have thought best to
introduce matter from the pen of Mr. Miller, not found in his Memoir, as
his writings, probably, better represent the advent movement and cause
than those of any other. And as the best means by which the people may
learn the real sentiments, the candor, and the true piety of this humble
servant of Jesus Christ, we would let his writings testify.
The introduction into this small volume of so large an amount of
matter from Mr. Miller makes it necessary to omit a large portion of
his Memoir that is devoted to his earlier life, as we hasten to his
deeply interesting Christian experience. But in necessarily omitting
portions, we hope not to appear to do Mr. Miller and his biographer
injustice, while we content ourself with little more than space for this
introduction, and foot notes.
In the preparation of this work, we have been greatly edified and
refreshed in spirit, as we have necessarily read very much from the
able, candid, and godly pen of Mr. Miller; and we heartily wish the same
blessing upon the candid reader.
JAMES WHITE.
_Battle Creek, January, 1875._
WILLIAM MILLER.
CHAPTER I.
ANCESTRY AND EARLY LIFE—MARRIAGE—DEISTICAL SENTIMENTS—MILITARY
LIFE.
William Miller was born at Pittsfield, Mass., February 15, 1782. He was
the eldest of sixteen children, five of whom were sons, and eleven were
daughters. His grandfather, William Miller, moved from West Springfield,
Mass., about 1747, and settled on the place in Pittsfield, now familiarly
known as the Miller farm. His father, William Miller, was born December
15, 1757, and remained on the farm taken up by his father until he moved
to Low Hampton, N. Y., in 1786. At the time of this removal the subject
of this sketch was four years old. His biographer says:—
“In his early childhood, marks of more than ordinary intellectual
strength and activity were manifested. A few years made these marks more
and more noticeable to all who fell into his society. But where were the
powers of the inner man to find the nutriment to satisfy their cravings,
and the field for their exercise? Besides the natural elements of
education, the objects, the scenes, and the changes of the natural world,
which have ever furnished to all truly great minds their noblest aliment,
the inspiring historical recollections associated with well-known
localities of the neighboring country, and the society of domestic life,
there was nothing within William’s reach but the Bible, the psalter, and
prayer-book, till he had resided at Low Hampton several years.”
“In a newly settled country, the public means of education must
necessarily be very limited. This was the case, at the time here referred
to, in a much greater degree than it usually is with the new settlements
of the present day. The school-house was not erected in season to afford
the children of Low Hampton but three months’ schooling in winter, during
William’s school-boy days. His mother taught him to read, so that he soon
mastered the few books belonging to the family; and this prepared him
to enter the ‘senior class’ when the district school opened. But if the
terms were short, the winter nights were long. Pine knots could be made
to supply the want of candles, lamps, and gas. And the spacious fireplace
in the log house was ample enough as a substitute for the school-house
and lecture-room. But even the enjoyment of these literary advantages
subjected the zealous student to a somewhat severe discipline.”
“As soon as William’s age and strength rendered him able to assist
his father about the farm, it was feared that his reading by night
might interfere with his efficiency in the work of the day. His father
insisted, therefore, that he should retire to bed when he retired
himself. But the boy could not be kept in bed. When the other members
of the family were all asleep, William would leave his bed, then find
his way to the pitch-wood, go to the fireplace, cast himself down flat
on the hearth, with his book before him, thrust his pitch-wood into the
embers till it blazed well, and there spend the hours of midnight in
reading. If the blaze grew dim, he would hold the stick in the embers
till the heat fried the pitch out of the wood, which renewed the blaze.
And when he had read as long as he dared to, or finished his book, he
would find his way back to bed again, with as little noise as possible.”
“He possessed a strong physical constitution, an active and naturally
well-developed intellect, and an irreproachable moral character. He had
appropriated to his use and amusement the small stock of literature
afforded by the family, while a child. He had enjoyed the limited
advantages of the district school but a few years before it was generally
admitted that his attainments exceeded those of the teachers usually
employed. He had drunk in the inspiration of the natural world around
him, and of the most exciting events in his country’s history. His
imagination had been quickened, and his heart warmed, by the adventures
and gallantries of fiction, and his intellect enriched by history. And
some of his earliest efforts with the pen, as well as the testimony
of his associates, show that his mind and heart were ennobled by the
lessons, if not by the spirit and power of religion.
“What, now, would have been the effect of what is called a regular
course of education? Would it have perverted him, as it has thousands?
or would it have made him instrumental of greater good in the cause of
God? Would it have performed its appropriate work, that of disciplining,
enlarging, and furnishing the mind, leaving unimpaired by the process
its natural energies, its sense of self-dependence as to man, and its
sense of dependence and accountability as to God? or would it have placed
him in the crowded ranks of those who are content to share in the honor
of repeating the twaddle, true or false, which passes for truth in the
school or sect which has ‘made them what they are’?
“We think it would have been difficult to pervert him; but where so
many who have been regarded as highly promising have been marred by the
operation, he would have been in great danger. He might have become
externally a better subject for the artist; but we doubt if he would have
been a better subject to be used as an instrument of Providence. There
are those who survive the regular course uninjured. There are those who
are benefited by it so far as to be raised to a level with people of
ordinary capacity, which they never could attain without special aid. And
there is a third class, who are a stereotype representation of what the
course makes them; if they raise a fellow-man out of the mire, they never
get him nearer to Heaven than the school where they were educated.
“Whatever might have been the result of any established course of
education, in the case of William Miller, such a course was beyond his
reach; he was deprived of the benefit, he has escaped the perversion.
Let us be satisfied. But still we must record the fact that it would
have been extremely gratifying if something of the kind could have been
placed at his command. He desired it. He longed for it with an intensity
of feeling that approached to agony. He pondered the question over and
over, whether it was possible to accomplish what appeared to him to be
not only a desirable gratification and honor, but almost essential to his
existence.
“It should be noticed, however, that his circumstances became somewhat
relieved as he advanced in years. The log house had given place to
a comfortable frame house; and, in this, William had a room he was
permitted to call his own. He had means to provide himself with a new
book, occasionally, and with candles to read at night, so that he could
enjoy his chosen luxury, during his leisure hours, in comparative comfort.
“It was on one of these times of leisure that an incident occurred which
marked a new era in his history, though it did not introduce fully such
an era as he desired. There was a medical gentleman in the vicinity of
his residence, by the name of Smith, who possessed an ample fortune, and
was known to be very liberal. In the plans which had passed through the
mind of William, to secure the means of maturing his education, he had
thought of Dr. Smith. At any rate it could do no harm to apply to him.
The plan was carried so far as to write a letter, setting forth to that
gentleman his intense desires, his want of means to gratify them, his
hopes and his prospects, if successful.
“The letter was nearly ready to be sent to its destination, when
William’s father entered the room, which we may properly call his son’s
study. Perhaps it had not occurred to the son to consult his father in
the matter; and to have it come to his notice in so unexpected a manner
somewhat disturbed him for the moment. But there was the letter in his
father’s presence. He took it, and read it. It affected him deeply.
For the first time, he seemed to feel his worldly condition to be
uncomfortable, on his son’s account. He wanted to be rich then, for the
gratification of his son, more than for any other human being.
“There were the irrepressible yearnings of his first-born, which he had
treated in their childish development as an annoyance, now spread out in
manly but impassioned pleadings to a comparative stranger to afford him
help! There were plans and hopes for the future, marked by an exhibition
of judgment and honor that could not fail of commanding attention! All
that was tender in that father’s heart, all that was generous in the
soldier, and all that could make him ambitious of a worthy successor, was
moved by that letter. The tears fell, and words of sympathy were spoken;
but the plan was impossible.
“The letter of William’s was never sent. It had the effect, however, of
changing his father’s course toward him, so that he was rather encouraged
than hindered in his favorite pursuits. By this time, the natural genius
and attainments of young William Miller had distinguished him among his
associates. To the young folks, he became a sort of scribbler-general.
If any one wanted ‘verses made,’ a letter to send, some ornamental and
symbolic design to be interpreted by ‘the tender passion,’ or anything
which required extra taste and fancy in the use of the pen, it was pretty
sure to be planned, if not executed, by him. Some of these first-fruits
of his genius are still in existence; and, although it requires no critic
to discover that he had never received lessons of any of the ‘great
masters,’ still these productions would compare very favorably with
similar efforts by those whose advantages have been far superior to his.
“The facts connected with the early life of Mr. Miller, and the incidents
in his personal history, now spread before the readers of this work,
will enable them to see, in the boy, a type of the future man. The
most embarrassing circumstances of his condition could not master his
perseverance. And if he could not accomplish all he desired to, the
success which attended his efforts, in spite of great discouragements,
was truly surprising. The position he had won opened to him a fairer
prospect, though still surrounded with serious dangers.”
William Miller was happily married in 1803, and settled in Poultney, Vt.
His biographer continues:—
“One of the first objects of his interest, after he had become settled,
was the village library. His constant use of its volumes brought him into
the society of a superior class of men. His wife took a deep interest in
his improvement and promotion; and made it her pleasure and business to
relieve him as much as possible from all the family cares which might
call him away from his books. She felt very sure that it would not be
lost time on his part, or lost labor on her own part. Still, the time he
could devote to books, on the best possible arrangement, was not so much
as he desired; for he had been trained to the farming business, and he
made that his employment, for some years, in Poultney.
“One effort of genius, though trifling in itself, which attracted toward
him the public attention of the village and its vicinity, was a poetic
effusion, the inspiration of his patriotic ardor. Preparations were
going on, at the time, for the public celebration of the anniversary of
our national independence; and the inspiration of that memorable day
seized Mr. Miller while he was hoeing corn in the field. He had written
poetry before; and so, after the labor of the field was done, he put his
thoughts into a written form, to be adapted to the familiar old tune,
called ‘Delight.’
“The appointed marshal, or manager, of the services of the day, was
Esquire Ashley, who was then a neighbor of Mr. Miller, and afterward
became an intimate friend. But the poet of the day, as he became, was
too reserved to offer his tribute, though there is reason to believe it
would have been thankfully accepted; for the business of the manager
hardly afforded him time to write poetry for the occasion, if he had the
ability, or even to select it. Mr. Miller was willing to have his piece
seen and used if it was thought to be suitable, but he could not announce
himself as its author. So he took the manuscript and walked as usual to
Esquire Ashley’s house. He seated himself leisurely below the chamber
window, where that gentleman was making his preparations for the great
celebration. Then, taking an opportunity to place it near where Mrs.
Ashley was at work, he shortly after withdrew. As soon as Mrs. Ashley
discovered the paper, she took it to her husband, supposing it was one
of his papers which had fallen from the window. He took it and read the
hymn; it struck him as being just what was wanted; but he knew nothing of
its origin. It was carried to several others, who were thought of as its
author, but no author or owner of it could be found. ‘Perhaps an angel
from Heaven had sent it.’ So they talked at any rate.
“However, the hymn was copied with the pen, and the sheets multiplied to
supply all who wished for one. The day came, and the hymn was sung with
the greatest enthusiasm to the favorite old tune, ‘Delight’! But among
those who distributed the copies, there was a worthy Baptist minister,
by the name of Kendrick, who had taken a warm interest in Mr. Miller.
His suspicions had pointed him to the author of the piece; and when
Mr. Miller came, with others, to get a copy, his appearance and manner
confirmed Elder Kendrick’s suspicions. Further inquiry brought forth
a confession of authorship. To use the phrase of the old folks, ‘it
was a great feather in his cap.’ He had touched the right chord in the
right way. The pious and patriotic emotions of the aged were revived;
the ardent responses of the young to these patriotic emotions found
expression in the new hymn; and nothing more was needed to make its
author the popular favorite.
“It is not known that an entire copy of the hymn is now in existence.
A sister of its author has repeated to us a few of the stanzas, which
we give, more for the purpose of exhibiting his religious and patriotic
sentiments than from an expectation that our readers will be affected
as were those who first heard it. Its style and meter were strictly in
accordance with the standard contained in the hymn book used on Sundays,
doubtless the only standard the writer of it was familiar with; and the
effect arose from the natural force and simplicity of the versified
thoughts, and the perfect ease of the musical execution. But to the
fragments of the hymn:—
...
“‘Our Independence dear,
Bought with the price of blood,
Let us receive with care,
And trust our Maker, God.
For he’s the tower
To which we fly;
His grace is nigh
In every hour!
“‘Nor shall Columbia’s sons
Forget the price it cost,
As long as water runs,
Or leaves are nipped by frost.
Freedom is thine;
Let millions rise,
Defend the prize
Through rolling time!
...
“‘There was a Washington,
A man of noble fame,
Who led Columbia’s sons
To battle on the plain;
With skill they fought;
The British host,
With all their boast,
Soon came to nought!
...
“‘Let traitors hide their heads,
And party quarrels cease;
Our foes are struck with dread,
When we declare for peace.
Firm let us be,
And rally round
The glorious sound
Of liberty!’
“The reader will see that the piece was designed for home consumption.
It was exactly suited to the occasion; and was marked throughout, in
spirit, style, and thought, with the elements of his education. And this
production, with others in prose and poetry, made him at once a notable
in the community; secured to him a wide circle of friends, and opened the
way for his promotion to office and honor. The old men were all ready to
give him a lift, almost without distinction of ‘party.’ The young folks
made his house a place of common resort, to which they gathered to spend
their leisure hours; while himself and wife became the central unit which
drew them together and kept all in motion.”
“In his political sentiments, he was decidedly democratic. But he had
intelligence enough to see that the practical patriotism of men did not
depend so much on the party name they took as on their common sense and
integrity. He knew that there were bad men enough in either party to
ruin the country, if they had the power to do it; and good men enough in
the same parties to promote the public prosperity to the best of their
ability. His position, therefore, was taken in view of the tendency of
different political principles and public measures, in their ultimate
bearing on the established institutions of the country. He enjoyed, in a
remarkable degree, the confidence of both the political parties of the
day.”
“In the case of most men of the world, with the avenues to honor, wealth,
and domestic happiness wide open before them, it is not often that a
public station so commanding would be voluntarily left for the hardships,
privations, and dangers, of the camp. What strong impulses could have
turned him off in that direction? Already the business of his office had
placed him in easy circumstances. Such was the amount of his business
that he kept two horses, one of which he drove, while the other was
kept up to rest, week by week, alternately. He enjoyed the respect and
unbounded confidence of the public; and he only needed to make himself
still as worthy of public favor as he had been hitherto, and then with
life and health, all that this world could afford was within his reach.
His preference for the army, so far as we know, sprang from these two
motives: First, he desired to participate in the glory which rested on
the memory of those he held the most dear, in the history of his country
and of his family. Second, he hoped to enjoy a more inviting exhibition
of human nature in the scenes of military life than experience or books
had afforded in civil life.
“His desire for something noble in character was greater than that for
wealth or unsubstantial fame. He was satisfied with the trial of what was
around him, and wished to try a new field. This is stated by himself in
his published memoir: ‘In the meantime, I continued my studies, storing
my mind with historical knowledge. The more I read, the more dreadfully
corrupt did the character of man appear. I could discern no bright spot
in the history of the past. Those conquerors of the world, and heroes
of history, were apparently but demons in human form. All the sorrow,
suffering, and misery in the world, seemed to be increased in proportion
to the power they obtained over their fellows. I began to feel very
distrustful of all men. In this state of mind, I entered the service of
my country. I fondly cherished the idea that I should find one bright
spot at least in the human character, as a star of hope—_a love of
country_—PATRIOTISM.’
“Happy, indeed, should we consider ourselves if there were no drawback
to this apparent prosperity to be noted. Rarely is it the case that the
honor of God and the honor of man are coincident. If Mr. Miller was not
puffed up by the latter, he had lost much of his regard for the former.
In his worldly advancement, there was a serious and dangerous departure
from the Christian sentiments which were instilled into his mind during
his early life. Still there was no defect in his character which the
most rigid worldly standard of external morality could detect. He was
perfectly upright and honorable in all his dealings. He was generous,
almost to a fault, with his friends, compassionate and liberal to the
poor, and he held in the highest contempt every act that could tarnish
a man’s personal and private honor. He was not profane, even to the
extent that too many are who pass for gentlemen. He was not intemperate,
although he was very much exposed to this ruinous habit from the example
of those into whose company his business called him—a habit which had
broken down some of his predecessors in office, by rendering them
incapable of attending to their business. He escaped from it without the
least stain.
“It could be shown, from sentiments embodied in some of his essays, in
addresses delivered before societies existing at the time, and in his
poetic effusions, that his moral and religious views were of a type that
would pass with the world as philosophical, pure, and sublime. But the
men with whom he associated from the time of his removal to Poultney,
and to whom he was considerably indebted for his worldly favors, were
deeply affected with skeptical principles and deistical theories. They
were not immoral men; but, as a class, were good citizens, and generally
of serious deportment, humane and benevolent. However, they rejected the
Bible as the standard of religious truth, and endeavored to make its
rejection plausible by such aid as could be obtained from the writings
of Voltaire, Hume, Volney, Paine, Ethan Allen, and others. Mr. Miller
studied these works closely, and at length avowed himself a deist. As
he has stated the period of his deistical life to have been twelve
years, that period must have begun in 1804; for he embraced or returned
to the Christian faith in 1816. It may fairly be doubted, however,
notwithstanding his known thoroughness and consistency, whether Mr.
Miller ever was fully settled in that form of deism which reduces man to
a level with the brutes, as to the supposed duration of their existence.
And the question is worthy of a little inquiry, To what extent was he a
deist?
“Robert Hall, with his usual comprehensiveness and truth, has remarked
that ‘infidelity is the offspring of corrupt Christianity.’ It is much
more successful in the discovery of supposed arguments against the
existence of the Deity of the Scriptures, in the perversion of that which
is divine, than in its institution and appointed use. Voltaire chose the
ruins of human nature, in their most perverted and blighted condition,
and Volney chose the ‘ruins’ of human habitations, for the theater on
which to display their mighty but evil genius. And they conjured forth
the same evil spirit which had instigated or caused the ruin, in each
case, to utter a false testimony, in reference both to ruined man and
his ruined habitations. These men became the oracles of that falsehood to
the world! But it was never the intention of God, that man, or the world
fitted up for his habitation, should be in this ruined condition; it is
the work of rebellion and sin!—of sin against the greatest displays of
love and goodness that were possible, and against the purest and most
reasonable law that could be given; of rebellion that was marked by
contempt of the universal Sovereign, and of authority enforced by the
lightest test of submission. And God has spoken to us, to inform us that
he has made provision for the restoration of all men, and that it is his
purpose to restore all who become interested in that provision, with the
world now in ruins, to a condition which no history but the Bible has
made known.
“Paine could rail and belie the supernaturalism of the Bible, like an
incarnate demon, and then indorse all the supernaturalism of the most
stupid pagan mythology, in his patriotic and poetic productions, which he
published to the world. And that mind must be strangely out of balance
naturally, or wretchedly perverted, which could bow to the authority of
Volney’s ‘specter,’ or Paine’s paganism,—the pure creations of fictions
and superstition,—and then reject the Bible because it demands faith in
that which is not familiar to the senses.
“It is generally true that those who become decided skeptics take that
most hopeless position, because they have become so depraved or perverted
that they feel the want of an infidel theory to afford them a license and
quiet, in their chosen course. It was not so with Mr. Miller. In the days
of his greatest devotion to deistical sentiments, he desired something
better. He had his difficulties with the Bible under its current
interpretations, and he tells us what these difficulties were. But a man
like him could never be made to believe it consistent or safe to abandon
the Bible, unless something more worthy of his trust were first put in
its place. And such a condition must secure to that matchless book a
certain and permanent supremacy. This was Mr. Miller’s safety.
“But if the poison which had infused its taint into the system did not
appear as a loathsome blotch upon the surface, its victim was not only
kept away from the sole remedy, but that remedy was treated by him with
an afflicting and dangerous levity. This was now the painful feature of
his case. Once it was not so. When he was a mere boy—‘between the years
of seven and ten’—as he tells us, a sense of the plague of his heart
and of his lost condition caused the deepest concern in reference to
his future prospects. He spent much time in trying to invent some plan
whereby he might find acceptance with God. He tried the common and most
natural course, in such a state of mind, that of being ‘very good.’ ‘I
will do nothing wrong, tell no lies, and obey my parents,’ he thought.
But his mind was still unsettled and unhappy.
“Good works are very proper, but they can never be accepted as the price
of pardon and redemption. He thought, too, as all do in the same state
of feeling, that something might be effected by sacrifice. ‘I will give
up the most cherished objects I possess.’ But this also failed. There
is only ‘one offering’ that can avail. In that, every sinner must rest
his hope and plea, or remain without peace with God. The experience of
Mr. Miller’s childhood made him thoughtful and serious, if it did not
result in the attainment of this inward sense of peace. Under his inward
conflicts and apprehensions of worldly sorrow, when a young man (in
1803), he poured out his soul to ‘religion’ in this touching strain:—
“‘Come, blest religion, with thy angel’s face,
Dispel this gloom, and brighten all the place;
Drive this destructive passion from my breast;
Compose my sorrows, and restore my rest;
Show me the path that Christian heroes trod,
Wean me from earth, and raise my soul to God!’
“‘Two things,’ says D’Aubigne, ‘are essential to sound Christian
experience. The first is a knowledge of our condition as sinners; the
second is a knowledge of the grace of God, in its manifestations to the
soul.’ Mr. Miller, like most if not all others, had learned the first
in his early life; but he had evidently not then attained the second
of these elements of a true religious life. And, by not attaining
that important position in the process of deliverance from our fallen
condition, he became wearied of a sense of his need, if he did not lose
it entirely. In the chosen employment of his intellect, with a more
ample supply of books at command; in the midst of an admiring and merry
social circle; in receiving the honors of the world from the hand of
his superiors, and in reaping an honorable portion of the treasures of
the world, why should he desire any other source of enjoyment—and one
altogether unknown, unappreciated and unpopular, in the circle where he
moved? What use had he for that religion he had seen verified and felt
the need of, in the less cultivated family circle at Low Hampton?
“If those who never become acquainted with the lessons of truth may be
satisfied without the consolation of which its lessons speak, with those
who are made familiar with these lessons, it is generally very different.
They can seldom feel satisfied with themselves without making a hearty
surrender of life, and all God has given them, to his service. As they
know this is their reasonable service, anything short of this, they know,
must be unreasonable. But how few take this narrow path! How many turn
away to join the multitude! The talent, however, is in their hands. They
must dispose of that, if they will not submit themselves to the disposal
of its Giver. Some make it the reason for entertaining and venting a more
malignant and blasphemous form of hatred against everything which bears
the name of God. This quiets all fear of being reproached as religious,
and it is the awful snare into which many are led by the fear of man.
Another class of these unfaithful recipients of the talent of truth
try to get along with a popular external expression of respect for its
claims; and thus they escape the dreaded reproach.
“A third class, naturally too frank even to appear to venerate what they
do not heartily respect, and too deeply impressed with the goodness
of the Deity to become blasphemers, but still too fearful of man to
encounter his frown, seek to save themselves from it by making the
defects of the humble but unpopular representatives of truth a subject
of merriment. This course was taken by Mr. Miller. This is the class to
which he then belonged. He banished from his memory the impressions of
his early life, and must silence all fear of reproach on account of them;
so he gave to his skeptical associates an assurance that he had mastered
his superstition, as they deemed it, by performing, for their sport, the
devotions of the worship to which he had been accustomed, and especially
by mimicking the devotional peculiarities of some of his own family
relatives.
“Among these pious relatives there were two, in particular, whose
presence or names were calculated to remind him of his repudiated
obligations, and whose influence over him he labored to repel, by making
them the theme of his mirth. One of these was his grandfather Phelps,
pastor of the Baptist church at Orwell; the other was his uncle, Elihu
Miller, who was settled as the pastor of the Baptist church at Low
Hampton, in 1812. These were men of unpolished exterior, but of decided
character, strong voice, and ardent devotion. Men whose features were
so strongly marked would make fine subjects for striking portraits; and
if all their traits could be brought out, there would be found a large
bestowment of the treasure of heavenly wisdom and virtue in the earthen
vessels. It was the excellence of the heavenly traits, and the roughness
of the earthly, which made them so desirable and so ready subjects of
caricature.
“These humble ambassadors of Christ, and other pious relatives, often
visited Mr. Miller’s house at Poultney; and, although he received them
with affection and respect, and entertained them in the most generous
manner, he was in the habit of imitating, with the most ludicrous
gravity, their words, tones of voice, gestures, fervency, and even
the grief they might manifest for such as himself, to afford a kind of
entertainment for his skeptical associates, which they seemed to enjoy
with peculiar relish.
“Little did he then think that he was measuring to these faithful men
what was to be measured to him again, pressed down, shaken together, and
running over. And probably it was not known to him that these praying men
had already expressed the hope—almost a prophecy—that their prayers would
be answered, and that he would some day be engaged in perpetuating the
work they were endeavoring to advance.
“There was more than one heart that was almost inconsolably afflicted
by this conduct of Mr. Miller. His mother knew of it, and it was as the
bitterness of death to her. Some of his pious sisters witnessed, with
tears, his improprieties. And when his mother spoke of the affliction
to her father Phelps, he would console her by saying, ‘Don’t afflict
yourself too deeply about William. There is something for him to do yet
in the cause of God!’
“Although Mr. Miller avowed himself a deist, and was recognized as such
by deists, this offense against all propriety, in trifling with what his
dearest relatives regarded as most sacred, this thoughtless trifling
with the humble messengers of the gospel was the darkest feature in his
character. To him it was the most natural course which the circumstances
of his position could suggest, and, undoubtedly, appeared to be the
least violation of former convictions and educational proprieties which
would allow him to stand as he did, in the favor and confidence of his
unbelieving associates. He had not then become acquainted with the
Source of strength by which he might have been sustained before the
enemies of the Christian faith; he was unprepared to take the Christian
position, and he became what the influence around him naturally
determined. To give the true state of the case, the darker shades must
appear with the lighter. He took the position of an unbeliever. But that
he was not a deist of a rank type will appear more fully from his own
statements.
“We have thus stated Mr. Miller’s social and public position, his
worldly prospects, and his religious state. The longsuffering of God was
still to be exercised toward him. He was to become satisfied with the
insufficiency of the world. Then the light which had become darkness was
to be revived within him; the breath of life from God would disclose the
all-sufficient portion, and he would go forth to build again the faith he
had destroyed.
“Many were the prayers that ascended in his behalf; and some of those
who were the most deeply interested for him would pass away before their
prayers would be answered. But the great lessons of longsuffering, of
faithfulness, and of the power to deliver out of the most artful snare
of the adversary, would be the more magnified, on the part of God; the
praying, who were yet alive, would hail the answer with greater joy, and
the delivered one would be the better prepared to take others, in the
same fearful condition, by the hand, and lead them to Him who came to
seek and save the lost!”
William Miller received a captain’s commission and entered the army
in 1812. His biographer gives more than thirty pages relative to his
military life, in which those whose hearts are fired by reading of
victories gained by the use of carnal weapons can see much to admire in
him as a patriotic soldier. But as our principal object is to bring him
before the public as an intelligent Bible Christian, a bold soldier of
Jesus Christ, and an able and sound expositor of the word of life, we
pass over his military career, giving only one incident, which will be of
interest to the Christian reader.
“A few reflections on this period of Mr. Miller’s life and the mention of
an incident or two of some interest, must close this chapter. Everybody
is familiar with the fact that the army is a bad school of morality.
Intemperance, licentiousness, gambling, fighting, stealing, profanity,
and Sabbath-breaking, are the common vices of army life. It was the
constant practice of these vices by those around him which sickened Mr.
Miller of their society. And that he should escape entirely from the
contamination would be too much to expect. However, it is both a matter
of surprise, and highly creditable to him, that his moral integrity and
habits were not affected to a hopeless extent. There were, however, some
redeeming traits to the too generally dark moral picture of army life.
There were a few men in the 30th regiment of infantry who were known as
men of prayer and undoubted piety. And an incident in their history,
which Mr. Miller has often spoken of with great interest, should be
mentioned. One of these praying men, if memory has not failed in the
case, was Sergeant Willey.
“His tent was occasionally used for the purpose of holding a
prayer-meeting. On one of these occasions, when Mr. Miller was ‘the
officer for the day,’ he saw a light in this tent, and, wishing to
know what was going on, as his duty required, he drew near, and heard
the voice of prayer. He said nothing at the time; but, the next day,
on recollecting it, he thought it was a good opportunity to try the
sergeant’s piety, and indulge his own relish for a joke, by calling
Sergeant Willey to account for having his tent occupied by a gambling
party the night before. When the sergeant appeared, Captain Miller
affected great seriousness, and spoke in a tone bordering on severity,
as follows: ‘You know, Sergeant Willey, that it is contrary to the army
regulations to have any gambling in the tents at night. And I was very
sorry to see your tent lit up for that purpose last night. We cannot have
any gambling at such times. You must put a stop to it at once. I hope I
shall not have to speak to you again about it!’
“The poor sergeant stood thunderstruck, for a moment, to hear such an
imputation cast on him and his associates. And then, hardly daring to
look up, he replied, with the most touching simplicity, and in a manner
which showed that he was alike unwilling to suffer the scandal of
entertaining gamblers, or to make a parade of his devotions, ‘We were
not gambling, sir!’ Captain Miller was touched with his appearance. But,
still affecting greater severity than at first, being determined to press
him to a confession, he said to the sergeant, ‘Yes, you were gambling!
And it won’t do! What else could you have your tent lighted up for, all
the evening, if you were not gambling?’
“Sergeant Willey now felt himself under the necessity of being a little
more explicit, and answered, in a manner deeply expressive of his grief
and innocence, ‘We were praying, sir.’ Captain Miller, by this time, was
almost in tears; and indicating, by a motion of his hand, that he was
satisfied, and that the praying sergeant might withdraw, he continued
alone for some time, sensibly affected by the courage manifested by these
Christians in that ungodly camp, by the becoming deportment of their
representative under such a serious scandal, and by the doubtful course
he had taken in reference to them.”
“One fact must be mentioned, which will speak more than volumes in behalf
of his commanding integrity, as it shows the place he occupied in the
respect and confidence of the soldiers. After the war, two members of his
company, who lived as neighbors in the extreme northern part of Vermont,
had some business difficulties, which grew to be so serious that they
could hardly live together as neighbors on speaking terms, to say the
least. This was a great affliction to themselves, as brother soldiers,
to their families, and to the whole neighborhood. These men had often
thought of their former captain, though they were much older than he was,
and wished the difficulties could be submitted to his examination and
decision. But it was a long way to his residence, and the time and cost
of the journey seemed too much to admit of such an arrangement. However,
the matter became a source of so much trouble that the proposition was
made by one, and gladly accepted by the other, to visit Captain Miller;
to submit the case to him, by telling each his own story, and to abide
by his decision. The long journey was performed by these old soldiers
separately, as duelists go to the place of single combat. They arrived
at Captain Miller’s nearly at the same time. Arrangements were made for
a hearing. Each told his story. The decision was made known, after all
the facts of the case had been duly considered. It was received in good
faith by the parties. They took each other cordially by the hand, spent a
little time with their captain, and returned to their homes in company,
as friends and brothers.
“Paradoxical as it may appear, some of the most distinguished and
honorable soldiers have been the most successful bloodless peace-makers,
while, on the other hand, some of the most contemptible cowards, with
peaceable pretensions always on their lips, have distinguished themselves
by very little besides their successful contrivances to keep all engaged
in war with whom they have had to do. Without claiming any special
distinction for Mr. Miller on the score of what are styled brilliant
achievements in the field of danger, the character of a great lover of
peace belonged to him as a distinguishing personal trait. He delighted in
peace, naturally; it is not known that he ever intentionally provoked a
quarrel; and a considerable number of cases could be cited, in which he
has been called to perform the office of a peace-maker, and in the duties
of which he has been remarkably successful. But enough. More must be left
unwritten than it would be practicable or necessary to write.
“The watchful Providence which guarded him in the hour of deadly peril;
the longsuffering which spared him while neglecting the talents bestowed,
or misusing them in rebellion against the Giver; and that wisdom and
grace which overruled all the dangers experienced, and the derelictions
practiced, as in many other persons of distinguished usefulness, demand
our hearty adoration. The close of Mr. Miller’s military life was to be
the commencement of a new era in his history. The circumstances which
preceded that change, the means and instrumentalities employed in its
accomplishment, and the practical results which immediately followed in
the circle of his acquaintance, must be left to another chapter.”
The following, relative to Mr. Miller’s connection with the army, we take
from his “Apology and Defense,” published in 1845:—
“In 1813, I received a captain’s commission in the U. S. service, and
continued in the army until peace was declared. While there, many
occurrences served to weaken my confidence in the correctness of
deistical principles. I was led frequently to compare this country to
that of the children of Israel, before whom God drove out the inhabitants
of their land. It seemed to me that the Supreme Being must have watched
over the interests of this country in an especial manner, and delivered
us from the hands of our enemies.
“I was particularly impressed with this view when I was in the battle
of Plattsburg, when with 1,500 regulars, and about 4,000 volunteers, we
defeated the British, who were 15,000 strong; we being also successful
at the same time in an engagement with the British fleet on the lake. At
the commencement of the battle, we looked upon our own defeat as almost
certain, and yet we were victorious. So surprising a result against such
odds did seem to me like the work of a mightier power than man.”