WAITING THE MILLENNIUM.
THE 5th of March is past and gone. The sun rose, set, and rose again ; the earth turned round after its usual fashion ; its hundreds of millions of inhabitants got up, went about their business, and lay down again to sleep ; only in the Memorial Hall in Farringdon Street of the City of London was any watch kept upon the fleeting hours, or any note made of the fateful steps of Time. Out of all the swarming millions that crawl upon this earth, only some fifty men and three hundred women cared to mark .the fact that another year had come and gone; that 1,893 years were now passed, and only three more years remained in which to prepare for the coming
Millennium. The Memorial Hall, we learn, had been suitably decorated for the occasion with huge cartoons representing the Dream of Nebuchadnezzar, the Dream of Daniel, and the Pale Horse of Pestilence ; and there beneath these pleasant emblems of prophecy sat the faithful few, while the latter- day prophets expounded to them the dread meaning of the Apocalypse. Only three more years ! On March 5th,. 1896, the end of this world, the resurrection of saints, and the ascension of 144,000 living Christians will take place, and the 350 watchful Christians of Farringdon Street will meet with the reward of their pious vigilance. Bishop. Richardson, of the American Reformed Church, and eight other clergymen, were the chief speakers at this conference,. and as the greatest unanimity seems to have prevailed among them, we can only suppose that their hearers went away more convinced than ever that the time was at hand in which they should set their houses in order, and put all things in readi- ness for their departure. We wonder whether this faithful band will gather together for the next three years upon the same anniversary, and in what spirit they will reassemble for their last meeting on March 5th, 1896. It is difficult to put oneself altogether into the position of a believer, and to- imagine what one would do did one possess the firm convic- tion that there were only three more years to pass upon the terrestrial globe. With what a happy sense of detach- ment one might contemplate all the struggles, the fretful anxiety, and the laborious forethought that humanity is compelled to undergo with a view to its continuance in life ; how gladly one would leave the morrow to care for itself, and cease from the incessant toil by which is hoarded the provision of years to come ! For three years, one could comfortably live upon the fruits of past labour,. and even have a fair superfluity to divide with less fortunate neighbours, while one cultivated a blameless leisure in the present, and looked forward to the happiest and most dignified ease in the future. For, be it remarked, it is a most material heaven that these literal translators of prophecy believe in,—a, heaven in which they will wear real golden crowns upon their heads, and spend their time in singing endless canticles to real golden harps. And as the time passed, and the three years became gradually reduced to three months, three weeks,. and three days, how would they feel at the approach of the last three hours when their belief bade them turn for the last time and bid farewell to the scene of their earthly sojourn P Would their strength of belief still enable them to face the great change with the same equanimity with which they seem- to contemplate it now ?
Not very many years ago, there were gathered together in. a great building in an American city a strange assembly of white-robed people. Some thousand followers of a certain sect met together to await the Second Advent, which had been confidently predicted to take place on that particular night, In order to present a seemly appearance before the heavenly hosts, they had clothed themselves in their white night-dresses, and waited patiently for the unrolling of the heavens, the up- heaval of the earth, and the signal for their ascension in com- pany with the buried dead. In all the history of human credulity, we do not think there occurs any more curiously pathetic scene than that long patient vigil for a sign which never came. One can imagine the while-sheeted crowd, their- faces pallid with anxious apprehension, and their limbs. trembling with nervous exultation, waiting at first, perhaps, with cheerful hymns and songs of praise that uplifted their courage as well as their voices ; then, as the hours went by, lapsing gradually into a dread and awful silence- of expectation, only broken by an occasional painful cry wrung from some poor creature whose over-wrought nerves could no longer bear the intense strain of the protracted suspense; and then, as the night passed away, the first grey light of another day stole in upon their watch, and the con- viction slowly strengthened in their mind that their vigil was in vain, and they looked in each other's faces with the grey dullness of despair. The time had not come for them, and there was nothing for it but to return to their daily toil and face once more the derisive laughter of their neighbours. One can imagine how these poor mortals separated in the cold dawn outside the door of their conventicle, slinking shame- faced to their respective homes, and donning once more their everyday clothes in place of their ascension robes. It is possible, it is more than possible, that as the sun
rose warmly upon another day of life, most of them felt a certain sense of relief in the extinction of their hopes. History repeats itself; it is not only once that this scene has been enacted, though we fancy that the assembled watchers have never before been so numerous, and history may repeat itself again and reserve a like experience for the
three hundred and fifty Christians who were gathered together a few nights ago in Parringdon Street. We have said that it is difficult to put oneself in the place of these believers ; how difficult it is, may be guessed from a statement of the theory upon which they base their belief. The moving spirit of this conference and the chief expounder of prophecy, seems to have been a Reverend Mr. Baxter, and this is this teacher's argument. Pure mathematics, he said, could demonstrate nothing with greater precision than that 1896 is the correct year for the Ascension of the Saints. In the vision recorded in the Apocalypse there are the words, "I am Alpha and Omega." Now, in Greek, Alpha equals 1, and Omega, 800. Place 1 before 800, and there is the year 1800. The year of the vision was 96; add this, and you have 1896,- Q.E.D. It is not worth while to criticise Mr. Baxter's tfigures, or we might protest that they are hardly satisfactory. In the first place, how does he get his date of March 5th ? That is still unaccounted for. Secondly, upon what authority does he assign the date of the vision to the year in which Domitian died P And, finally, it seems to us that his treat- anent of the Greek letters is somewhat arbitrary. Alpha, it is true, means numerically either one or a thousand, according to its accent ; and Omega, by the same rule, means either 800 or 800,000. If he is going to make Alpha into 1,000, he ought also to make Omega 800,000; in which case, the Second Advent, according to Mr. Baxter, will take place in 801,096 A.D. That date is still fairly distant, and it is scarcely neces- sary yet to hold meetings either in Farringdon Street or elsewhere to prepare for its coming. Of course, Mr. Baxter is free to put what interpretation may seem best to his superior knowledge upon the words that he quotes from the Apo- calypse; but we cannot think that what he offered to his hearers is an improvement upon that which is generally accepted, or that he did well to quote them without their Perfectly explanatory context. It seems almost incredible that three hundred and fifty men and women could listen in all sad seriousness to this lecturer, and that there should be found eight clergymen to support him. One can only hope that the term" clergymen" has been used loosely, and that his friends, to whom the newspaper reporter has given "benefit of clergy," are not really ordained ministers and teachers. Perhaps they were of the same intellectual calibre and character as the Baptist minister who followed 34r- Baxter in his exposition of prophecy. This gentleman InPlained that, having attended the Conference of Prophets last year, he had been since boycotted by his brother ministers. However, he did not repine : he had opened an institution for faith-healing and was doing very well; a confession which threw rather a curious light upon a subordinate end and aim of these FINVagandists. If any other light were needed, it was furnished 11 a little incident at the close of the evening, when the only 43 issentient voice that was raised at all, was heard. One of the audience rose to ask acl uestion, and that was the moment
chosen by Mr. Baxter to make a collection. The inopportune seeker after truth was fain to beat a retreat, exclaiming against all false prophets, and Mr. Baxter made the collection that he desired.
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