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Review and Herald, Vol. 41, No. 7.

LIFE OF WILLIAM MILLER

Review and Herald

Jan 28, 1873

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 28, 1873

LIFE OF WILLIAM MILLER.

By James White

BY ELD. JAMES WHITE.

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.”
Sylvester Bliss was for more than twenty years the local and able conductor of the Advent Herald, published at Boston, Mass.
The publisher of this volume, Elder Joshua V. Himes, Mr. Miller’s most 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, and a man of great moral and social worth. That the impartial reader may be able to form a just estimate of one who has occupied so conspicuous a position before the public, the following pages are compiled.
“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.
“It is believed that the influence exerted by Mr. Miller will not prove evanescent in its results. The attention which was given to his arguments caused many minds entirely to change their preconceived opinions respecting the millennial state, who have since remained devoted Christians, ardently looking for the Nobleman who has gone into a far country to receive for himself a kingdom, and to return.—Luke 19:12. 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 disapprobation of every fanatical practice will be admitted, and a much more just estimate will be had of him.
“These Memoirs were commenced by Eld. Apollos Hale, who prepared the first three chapters. Other duties having interfered with his progress in the work, its completion has devolved on another.”
It would doubtless be very interesting, and highly gratifying, to many to read all the particulars given in the first part of this volume, of the parentage and early life of William Miller. But for the want of room we pass hurriedly through the first sixty pages, until we come to his deeply interesting Christian experience, giving only the leading facts. These we state, as far as possible, in his biographer’s words.

CHAPTER ONE.

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.
“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.
“The settlers generally on our frontiers are under the necessity of exercising the most stringent economy in the use of everything which takes money out, or brings money in. The most moderate liberality in the scale of living is often as ruinous to their prospects as indolence, intemperance, disease or death, could be. Many a hardy farmer, or his widow and children, have been compelled to give up their claim to the spot on which they had settled, just as it began to afford a comfortable subsistence, simply because they had not the means at command to lift the mortgage. There are always human sharks enough to devour all they can. And woe be to those who are at the mercy of the common mortgage-holder! Such were the circumstances of William’s parents that they had a plain question to settle: with health, hard labor, sobriety and economy, the farm they had cleared might become their own, to leave to their children; the absence of any one of these items, in the condition of success, was sure to make it otherwise. It was on this view of the case that William’s parents declined to provide him with candles to read by; and this led to the expedient of the pine knots.
“Another difficulty called for another expedient. 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.
“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 was never sent. It had the effect, however, of changing his father’s course towards him, so that he was rather encouraged than hindered in his favorite pursuits.”
“The facts connected with the early life of Mr. William 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.”
William Miller was happily married in 1803, and settled in Pultney, 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 towards 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.’”
“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?”
“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, Warn me from earth, and raise my soul to God!”
“Two things, says D’Aubigné, 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 a 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!’”
“Many were the prayers that ascended in his behalf; and some of those who were the most deeply interested for him would not pass away before their prayers would be answered. But the great lessons of long-suffering, 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 prejudiced 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.
“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 men, if memory has not failed me 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.
“The watchful Providence which guarded him in the hour of deadly peril; the long-suffering 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.”

HYMN

Bear the burden of the present, Let the morrow bear its own: If the morning sky be pleasant, Why the coming night bemoan?
If the blackened heavens lower, Wrap thy cloak around thy form; Though the tempest rise in power, God is mightier than the storm.
Steadfast faith and hope unshaken Animate the trusting breast; Step by step, the journey's taken Nearer to the land of rest.
All unseen, the Master walketh By the toiling servant's side; Comfortable words he talketh, While his hands uphold and guide.
Grief, nor pain, nor any sorrow Rends thy heart to Him unknown; He to-day and he to-morrow, Grace sufficient gives his own.
Holy strivings nerve and strengthen; Long endurance wins the crown; When the evening shadows lengthen, Thou shalt lay the burden down.
—Sel.
Continue reading: A YEAR OF EVENTS