The most widespread delusion of the time was Millerism. A great
many persons--and yet not so many that I knew even one of them--
believed that the end of the world was coming in the year 1842;
though the date was postponed from year to year, as the prophesy
failed of fulfillment. The idea in itself was almost too serious
to be jested about; and yet its advocates made it so literal a
matter that it did look very ridiculous to unbelievers.
An irreverent little workmate of mine in the spinning-room made a
string of jingling couplets about it, like this:--
"Oh dear! oh dear! what shall we do
In eighteen hundred and forty-two?
"Oh dear! oh dear! where shall we be
In eighteen hundred and forty-three?
"Oh dear! oh dear! we shall be no more
In eighteen hundred and forty-four,
"Oh dear! oh dear! we sha'n't be alive
In eighteen hundred and forty-five."
I thought it audacious in her, since surely she and all of us
were aware that the world would come to an end some time, in some
way, for every one of us.
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