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Looking
back to his early radical years from his conservative
middle age, the English poet Robert Southey
(1774–1843) declared that
few persons but those who have lived in
it can conceive or comprehend what the memory
of the French Revolution was, nor what a
visionary world seemed to open upon those
who were just entering it. Old things seemed
passing away, and nothing was dreamt of but
the regeneration of the human race.
>> note 1
In the prologue to his successful play The
Road to Ruin (1792), Thomas Holcroft
predicted that the French Revolution would "fertilize
a world, and renovate old earth!" And
in The Prelude (1805), Wordsworth
remembered the early years of the Revolution
as a time when all Europe
was
thrilled with joy,
France standing on the top of golden hours,
And human nature seeming born again.
(6.340–42;
NAEL 2.346)
Human nature regenerate in a world made new:
this was the theme of many enthusiasts in England
during the first four or five years after the
outbreak of the French Revolution in 1789.
These concepts are obviously theological. They
originate in the apocalyptic and millennial
passages of the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures,
and their use indicates that for a number of
British idealists, the early enthusiasm for
the revolution had the momentum and excitement
of a religious movement.
The term apocalypse, derived from the
Greek word meaning "revelation," designates
the disclosure, in the Bible, of God's
providential design for the end of human history.
In its fully developed form, an apocalypse
is a prophetic vision, elaborately symbolic
of the imminent events that will abruptly end
the existing world order and replace it with
a new and perfected condition both of humanity
and of the world. The root elements of apocalypse
are the concern of the Hebrew prophets with
the catastrophic punishments to be visited
upon Israel and its enemies in "the latter
end of the days," as well as with the
expectation of a Messiah, a deliverer from
suffering in this disaster-ridden world. These
elements are collected in the writings attributed
to the prophet Isaiah, which foretell, after
God has vented His wrath, the advent of a renovated
world of ease, joy, and peace. "For, behold,
I create new heavens and a new earth," in
which "the wolf and the lamb shall feed
together, and the lion shall eat straw like
the bullock" (Isaiah 65.17–25).
The Hebrew Bible also contains a full-fledged
apocalypse, the Book of Daniel.
Passages predicting an imminent apocalypse
occur in the New Testament, both in the Synoptic
Gospels and in the Epistles of Paul. The New
Testament then concludes with the most spectacular
and intricately ordered of all apocalyptic
prophecies, the Book of Revelation. A series
of seven symbolic events signalize the conflict
between the forces of Christ and of Antichrist,
culminating in a prodigious violence in which
the stars fall like ripe figs and the harvest
of the earth is cast "into the great winepress
of the wrath of God." (6.13). This fierce
destruction, however, is a cleansing one, preparatory
to the inauguration of the Kingdom of Christ
on earth, which will last one thousand years — in
Latin, a "millennium," from which
are derived the terms "millennial" and "millenarian" to
signify the belief in a blissful earthly condition
at the end of history. At the end of the millennium,
the forces of evil are loosed again and finally
defeated, after which the original creation,
its function in the divine plot accomplished,
will pass away, to be replaced by a new creation
and by a new Jerusalem that will reconstitute,
for the deserving elect, the paradise that
was lost at the Fall: "And there shall
be no more death . . . neither shall
there be any more pain: for the former things
are passed away" (21.4).
Two
distinctive images occur persistently in later
writings that derive from biblical apocalypses.
One is the image of a sacred marriage that
signifies the consummation of history. In Isaiah,
the final redemption is figured as a marriage
between the people of Israel and their land
(62.2–5); in Revelation, it is figured
as a marriage between Christ and the new, or
purified, Jerusalem, "coming down from
God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned
for her husband" (21.2, 9–10). The
second recurrent image represents the final
condition of blessedness as a renovated heaven
and earth. "For, behold," the Lord
said to Isaiah, "I create new heavens
and a new earth" (65.17, also 66.22).
Thus also Revelation: "And I saw a new
heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven
and the first earth were passed away" (21.1,
also 21.5).
The
apocalyptic and millennial books in the Bible
are readily convertible into a scenario for
political revolution, since they consist of
an infallible text ordaining a necessary destruction
of the forces of evil and guaranteeing the
outcome of this violence in peace, plenty,
and consummate happiness. In the Civil
Wars in seventeenth-century England, for
example, there were fervent apocalyptic expectations
among radical parliamentary sects that were
shared by Oliver Cromwell, as well as by John
Milton. The late eighteenth century was another
age of widespread apocalyptic expectation,
when the promise of the American Revolution,
followed by the greater and more radical expectations
raised by the early years of the French Revolution,
revived among a number of English Nonconforming
sects the millenarian excitement of Milton
and other seventeenth-century predecessors. "Hey
for the New Jerusalem! The millennium!" Thomas
Holcroft exulted in 1791.
>> note 2 Preachers
such as Richard Price, Joseph Fawcett, and Elhanan Winchester, as well as Joseph
Priestley, who was not only a great chemist but a founder of the Unitarian
Society, all interpreted the convulsions in France in terms of the prophecies
in both the Hebrew and the Christian Scriptures. They thus invested the political
events of the day with the explosive power of the great Western myth of apocalypse
and expanded a local phenomenon into the expectation that humanity, everywhere,
was at the threshold of an earthly paradise.
The
phenomenon is of great literary importance
because, during their formative period in the
early 1790s, the first generation of Romantic
poets incorporated in their poems a vision
of the French Revolution as the early stage
of the abrupt culmination of history, in which
there will emerge a new humanity on a new earth
that is equivalent to a restored paradise.
In 1793, while still a student at Oxford, Robert
Southey wrote Joan of Arc: An Epic Poem.
In it Joan is granted a vision of a "blest
age" in the future when, in a violent
spasm not quite named the French Revolution,
humanity shall "burst his fetters," and "Earth
shall once again / Be Paradise".
>> note 3 In
the Song of Liberty that he appended to The Marriage of Heaven and
Hell in 1792, Blake represents a revolutionary "son of fire" moving
from America to France and proclaiming an Isaian millennium: "Empire is
no more! and now the lion & wolf shall cease" (NAEL 8, 2.122). In the
short prophetic poems of revolution that he wrote in the early 1790s, Blake
introduced the Giant Form that he names "Orc," the spirit of Energy
that bursts out in total political and spiritual revolution. See also Blake's America:
A Prophecy [1793], plates 6, 8, 16, and, for an earlier, nonsymbolic work
on the events in France, The French Revolution. In 1793 Wordsworth concluded
his Descriptive Sketches with the enthusiastic prophecy (which precisely
matches the prophecy he attributed to the Solitary in his later poem The
Excursion) that events following the French Revolution would fulfill the
millennial prophecy of the Book of Revelation. In those happy early years of
the revolution, Coleridge shared this expectation, in a historical sequence
that he succinctly summarizes in his prose Argument of the plot of Religious
Musings (1794) as "The French Revolution. Millennium. Universal Redemption.
Conclusion."
Two decades later, the young Percy Shelley
recapitulated the millenarian expectations
of his older contemporaries. His early principles,
Shelley said, "had their origin" in
those views that "occasioned the revolutions
of America and France."
>> note 4 Shelley's Queen
Mab, which he began writing at nineteen, presents a vision of the woeful
human past and the dreadful present, as preceding a blissful future "surpassing
fabled Eden," of which most features are imparted from biblical millennialism.
Looking back in 1815, Thomas Noon Talfourd — an
eminent jurist who was also a poet and playwright — analyzed
the fashion in which the French Revolution
had shaped the great literature of the age:
At one moment, all was hope and joy and
rapture; the corruption and iniquity of ages
seemed to vanish like a dream; the unclouded
heavens seemed once more to ring with the
exulting chorus of peace on earth and good-will
to men. . . .
But "on a sudden" the "sublime
expectation[s] were swept away" in "the
terrible changes of this August spectacle." And
an immediate effect "of this moral hurricane
. . . this rending of the general
heart" was "to raise and darken the
imagination," and so to contribute "to
form that great age of poetry which is now
flourishing around us."
>> note 5 Talfourd
recognized the religious, apocalyptic nature of the enthusiasm and hopes evoked
by the early years of the revolution; he recognized also, however, that the
essential featureof the French Revolution as a cultural influence was that
it had failed. The greatest poetry of the age was written not in the mood of
revolutionary exaltation but in the mood of revolutionary disenchantment and
despair, after the succession of disasters that began with the Reign of Terror
in 1793–94. A number of the major Romantic poems, however, did not break
with the formative past, but set out to salvage grounds for hope in a new and
better world. That is, Romantic thought and imagination remained apocalyptic
in form, but with a radical shift from faith in a violent outer transformation
to faith in an inner moral and imaginative transformation — a shift from
political revolution to a revolution in consciousness — to bring into
being a new heaven and new earth.
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