Having grown up in little England, where no more land was to be had, Winthrop could never have imagined how the physical realities of the American experience would change everything for the residents of Massachusetts and their descendants. Later, again: "These Puritans did not flee to America they went in order to work out that complete reformation which was not yet accomplished in England and Europe, but which would quickly be accomplished if only the saints back there had a working model to guide them" (11).Ī great section on the experience of change (economic and social) among the first generations of the Bay Colony, and how the jeremiad sermons of the preachers were a sort of ritualistic public venting, which took for granted that such change would continue and accelerate, and that sort of encouraged them, actually. The "Massachusetts Bay Colony come on an errand in the second and later sense of the word: it was, so to speak, on its own business" (5). The Great Migration of 1630 was completely different. The only way that the Separatists could have had it otherwise would be if they ceased being Separatists. Plymouth was more or less a forced migration. Plymouth was simple in that the Pilgrims were driven there by their convictions. In which of these two had New England failed (or so it seemed to them)? In the second scenario, the one running errands is responsible for both. In the first scenario, the one running errands is not responsible for the list of things to do, only for the doing of them. On the other hand, one might be running errands for himself or herself. He distinguishes between two connotations of the word "errand." These two meanings certainly would have been in the back of the mind of Samuel Danforth, the Puritan preacher who, in 1670, titled his election sermon "A Brief Recognition of New England's Errand into the Wilderness.": On the one hand, someone might be "an errand boy," merely doing someone else's bidding. What, Miller wonders, was the source of this anxiety, and even dread?
They seem to assume that their forebears, the first generation, were more devoted and much more capable than they were, and that the present generation had failed because they had not run as well as their predecessors.
In this fascinating piece, Miller begins with the seeming despair of the second- and third-generation preachers in New England. He comes across as a serious worker who does not take himself too seriously. And since that’s the case, he’s glad to have had the opportunity to revise them. Miller goes out of his way to mention that his pieces are incomplete. The second word sounds like something much more definitive and timeless. He describes the chapters of his book as “pieces,” not “essays.” The first word suggests a piece of work submitted by a deadline. Furthermore, people who think otherwise haven't examined the facts. He seems to be saying that the most important facet in human history is intellectual history, and that the intellectual history of colonial America is essentially theological. While acknowledging that "social" history can and does contribute to our understanding of the past, Miller is compelled to say that these sorts of probes really don't get at the essence of his subject. He tell us that, after all of that work, he and his generation of scholars have still not achieved anything like “the comprehensive understanding we presumptuously proposed” (ix), which is one reason he is so glad to see young scholars like Edmund S. Since that time, he had spent 25 years studying “the innermost propulsion of the United States” (viii). Miller says that while in central Africa he had an “epiphany” that revealed to him what he ought to do with his life. This post provides an overview of the "Preface" and of the leading chapter, "Errand into the Wilderness," in this classic collection by the great Perry Miller. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1956.