In 1671, the Quaker William Penn undertook a missionary trip to the Netherlands and Germany. He visited the Calvinist Pietist Jean de Labadie and his community of Labadist followers in Herford. Penn had requested the meeting time of the Labadists so that he might arrive in time to deliver a message during their service. Not wanting to expose any followers to false doctrine, Labadie decided to hold the meeting an hour earlier than the time he gave Penn. When Penn arrived, only Labadie and two other men were present to meet with him.Footnote 1 A resentful Penn wrote a letter that same month condemning the Labadists' behavior and interpreting their response as one of jealousy and suspicion toward the Quakers. He believed Labadie to be the central problem behind this failed meeting.Footnote 2
Penn did not give up. Three years after Labadie's death, Penn sought out the Labadists again in 1677. That visit took place at their residence in Friesland, where the group had relocated. There, he had the opportunity to meet with leading members of the community, including Anna Maria van Schurman and Pierre Yvon.Footnote 3 In this second meeting, Penn softened his questions with the caveat that he “came not to cavil, but in a Christian spirit to be informed.” Each Labadist offered his or her religious experiences, of which Penn concluded that “certainly the Lord hath been amongst them.” After a period of silence, Penn responded with his own story, emphasizing once again that he came not to judge but to visit and asking them to listen to him with “Christian patience and tenderness.” Penn searched for similarities between the Quakers and the Labadists, noting: “they are a serious, plain people and are come nearer to Friends; as in silence in meetings, women-speaking, preaching by the Spirit, plainness in garb, and furniture in their houses.” At the same time, he tried to correct what he believed were their weaknesses, such as too much formality in worship.Footnote 4 The meeting was a success, and Penn wrote that the Labadists expressed great satisfaction in the visit and were respectful beyond his expectation.Footnote 5
Penn's visit serves as a representative example of the many exchanges that occurred among late seventeenth- and early eighteenth-century dissenting groups including Quakers, Labadists, French Prophets, English Philadelphians, radical German Pietists, and Bourignonians. Like other dissenters, Penn hoped to find fellow reformers in the Labadists, and he had some expectation of how his visit should go; there was a tacit protocol as to how a religious community should conduct itself during such a visit. The discourse should be civil, two-sided, and informative.Footnote 6 Also like other dissenters of his era, Penn facilitated his interactions with the Labadists by relying on mechanisms of the public sphere. Penn traveled to meet the Labadists in person, but he also communicated with them through correspondence and printed writings that reached a larger audience. Perhaps what stands out most is the tension that ran through many encounters between dissenting groups during this period: a desire to seek out other pious reform-minded groups and an openness to conversation, and at the same time a reluctance to acknowledge or accept other practices or doctrines.Footnote 7
The interactions of Quakers, Labadists, and other dissenting groups that flourished between the Restoration and the Great Awakening often came out of an impulse to find and connect with others who might also join in the work of spiritual reform. This quest to find other like-minded reformers—and, in particular, millenarian reformers engaged in the work of building a New Jerusalem—became a driving force in dissenters' attempts to reach out to one another and unite communities of radical reformers across linguistic, confessional, and geographic boundaries. As dissenters engaged in esoteric conversations and critical debates about radical Protestantism, they facilitated their exchanges through transatlantic travel and a reliance on mechanisms of the public sphere that promoted the circulation of people and ideas.
I. Millenarianism and Transconfessional Encounters
In the past decade, historians have begun to recognize that dissenters often identified themselves as belonging to larger transconfessional and even transnational communities.Footnote 8 Several of the groups considered here—including the Bourignonians, the Labadists, and Johannes Kelpius's Chapter of Perfection—came out of French, Dutch, or German pietistic traditions. Some of these groups, such as Kelpius and the Saalhof Pietists, shared an interest with the English Philadelphians in the writings of the sixteenth-century German theologian Jacob Boehme. Other groups such as the Quakers and Baptists, had arisen out of the crises of mid-seventeenth-century England and flourished on both sides of the Atlantic by the late seventeenth century. The French Prophets, exiled Camisards who came to London from southern France in 1706, began as millenarian Calvinists but then attracted numerous English followers (including Philadelphians and Quakers) to their movement.Footnote 9
In many cases, dissenters were motivated to meet one another by millenarian beliefs that a remnant of reformers would transcend national and religious boundaries to usher in a new age. In the British context, early modern millenarianism has often been associated with the mid-seventeenth century, as many of the most intense expressions of millenarianism accompanied the Civil Wars. This association has led to somewhat of an underrepresentation of post-Civil-War religious radicalism in scholarship. Recent studies by Tim Harris, Tony Claydon, and Steven Pincus have challenged historiography that relegates the Glorious Revolution to a peaceful afterthought of the revolutionary Civil Wars. They have shown that there existed a substantial crisis over the nature of Protestantism and its relationship to the British state well into the late Stuart and early Hanoverian periods.Footnote 10 In this period of crisis, forms of millenarianism continued to flourish (albeit under different manifestations and among different groups than during the Civil War period).
Placing dissenting groups in a transnational context allows us to see that millenarianism in the British Atlantic was not strictly limited to a politically radical or revolutionary context. Rather, millenarian expression often arose out of a broader sense of societal crisis—one as much informed by responses to natural disasters or to changing practices of toleration as by political upheaval. In the late seventeenth-century, political and religious events such as the Glorious Revolution and the 1692 earthquake in Jamaica led to a revived focus on miracles, providentialism, and millenarian beliefs in England. Continental Europeans also faced a number of events during the last decades of the seventeenth century that prompted a rise in millenarian prophecies. The wars of Louis XIV, with their resulting destruction throughout southwestern Germany, and the siege of Vienna in 1683 are two examples.Footnote 11
There were numerous varieties of millenarianism between the Restoration and the Great Awakening, but dissenting groups that flourished during this period shared some common traits. For the most part, they were not revolutionary millenarians; they did not propose to “turn the world upside down” like their British Civil-War predecessors. They did, however, embrace (to varying degrees) a millenarian ethos that sought reform on earth in preparation for the age to come. Some, such as the Philadelphians, anticipated a period of reform and restoration culminating in the return of Christ. Others, such as the French Prophets, believed that a time of great judgment would soon be at hand. Still others, such as the Quakers, focused on the inward Second Coming of Christ in their own hearts, a process that enacted on a microcosmic level that would occur one day on a much grander scale.Footnote 12 Groups were eager to identify and define not only how the millennium would unfold but also what their chosen role as prophets and reformers would entail.
Many dissenters shared an expectation in radically new forms of religious community, such as the coming of a New Jerusalem or the establishment of a true Church.Footnote 13 In 1697, the Philadelphians, a small London group led by the visionary Jane Lead, issued a published statement that “God is stirring up some persons in several countries, to wait in faith and prayer for these ends, and with these qualifications, till such a pure church may arise.” They listed Germany, Holland, Switzerland, France, Scotland, and England as countries where individuals were waiting to usher in this true Church.Footnote 14 As the French Prophets expanded and gained an English following in the years after their 1706 arrival, they proposed the idea that London was a New Jerusalem where Quakers, Independents, Presbyterians, Baptists, Anglicans, Roman Catholics, and Huguenots would ultimately join together as one.Footnote 15 Even second-generation Quakers, who spoke of New Jerusalem in a spiritual sense rather than a literal one, continued to seek out other dissenters in the hope that they might unite with them.
Those who anticipated the impending arrival of a new age tended to profess a profound dislike for sectarian divisions. The Netherlandish prophet Antoinette Bourignon, who attracted a number of English and Scottish followers, believed that she had been chosen by God to rally true Christians, and she lamented the existence of so many denominations and sects. The Philadelphians stated in a 1697 publication that they were “utterly averse to all sectarianism.” The Quaker missionary Elizabeth Webb emphasized to Anton Wilhelm Boehm, Halle Pietist and chaplain to Queen Anne's consort, that she did not see God “through particular forms, sects, party-impressions, or any such thing.” Gottfried Arnold sought to avoid party lines in writing his history of the Church and heresy, Unparteyische Kirchen- und Ketzer-historie (1699).Footnote 16
The attempt to reach past sectarian and confessional boundaries also characterized broader reform movements taking place in England and continental Europe. Many religious individuals and groups—even non-minority ones—believed that the Reformation had not yet reached its full potential, and they were eager to join with others in order to carry out further reforms.Footnote 17 But some radical Protestants went so far as to interpret the transcendence of sectarian or confessional boundaries in apocalyptic or millenarian terms. Outsiders knew Johannes Kelpius's group, the Chapter of Perfection, as the “Society of the Woman in the Wilderness.” This name referred to the group's specific interest in the woman of Revelation 12 who spent 1,260 days in the desert (wilderness) after giving birth to a messianic figure. Kelpius took over leadership of the Chapter of Perfection after the death of its original leader, Johann Jakob Zimmerman. Zimmerman had predicted that the advent of millennium would arrive in 1694, and he organized a group of followers made up mostly of Lutheran Pietists. After Zimmerman's death, the group traveled to London for six months. Kelpius spent time there with the Philadelphians, who shared his interest in Boehme. He also met with London Quakers, who provided the Chapter of Perfection with the money necessary to emigrate to Pennsylvania.Footnote 18 Both experiences in London introduced Kelpius to reformers who shared his ecumenical and millenarian beliefs. He regarded these dissenters as different manifestations of the same reform movement, writing of a “revolution” of reformers—Quaker, Pietist, Chiliast, Philadelphian—whose movement served as a sign of the approaching millennium.Footnote 19
One characteristic of the radical Protestant groups considered here was the extent to which women were at the center of calls for millenarian and theological reforms. Enlightenment society widely embraced the concept that women were “civilizing agents” who tempered male behavior.Footnote 20 However, among numerous dissenters, the idea of the female reformer took on a particular form: women as heralds of the end times. For some groups, such as the Quakers, this meant that women were granted a public-speaking role as prophets or visionaries. They frequently cited Joel 2:28-29 (cf. Acts 2:17-18), “And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions: And also upon the servants and upon the handmaids in those days will I pour out my spirit.” The belief in female heralds or reformers came to its fullest manifestation in the writings of Richard Roach, who believed in an ecumenical “female embassy” that would usher in the last days.Footnote 21 Roach thought that women would restore man to his original state through their work as millenarian reformers. He cited specific examples, such as Antoinette Bourignon; the French mystic and Quietist Madame Guyon; and the leader of the Philadelphians, Jane Lead. His search for female reformers led him to establish connections with women on both sides of the English Channel, from Lead to the radical German Pietist prophet Rosamunde von Asseburg.Footnote 22
Roach was not the only one to seek out female prophets and reformers. The radical Pietist Johann Wilhelm Petersen and his wife, Johanna Eleonora Merlau, developed an association with Rosamunde von Asseburg. They were also in contact with the Philadelphians, the Labadists, and the Quaker William Penn.Footnote 23 And we have already seen how Penn noted that the Labadists and Quakers came near to one another in “women-speaking.”Footnote 24 It was in large part this understanding of women's roles in the end times that prompted the Petersens, Richard Roach, and other radical Protestants to meet with groups that also recognized the participation of women as prophets and millenarian reformers.Footnote 25
II. Sites of Sociability
A shared interest in millenarian and spiritual reform was a driving force behind dissenters' desire to seek out one another, but in order to accomplish these encounters they relied on both mobility (which allowed for meetings in various venues) and literacy (which facilitated the circulation of written texts). As dissenters moved throughout the Atlantic, new arenas of sociability developed in the houses, meetinghouses, streets, prisons, and ships where individuals and groups met with one another. These places, like the salons and coffeehouses that fostered an Enlightenment public sphere, functioned as physical spaces that encouraged religious discourse and debate.
Dissenters' interactions took place throughout Europe and the British Atlantic. While scholars have given considerable attention to attempting to define the parameters of the British Atlantic world, the term is, as David Armitage and Michael Braddick have noted, “an imprecise geographical expression.”Footnote 26 Definitions vary according to the economic, religious, political, or social networks and exchanges in question. In the case of the dissenters considered here, the study of their interactions takes us through Northern Europe and the British Isles, and across the Atlantic Ocean to colonial North America. While some dissenters such as Quakers ventured as far south as the Carolinas, Jamaica, and Barbados, the majority of colonial interactions among dissenters took place in the middle colonies and New England.
Those who wanted to reach past their own sectarian boundaries often did not have to look far to find other minority religious groups in the century after the Civil Wars. In late Stuart London, one in five persons belonged to a dissenting religious group.Footnote 27 During this same period, some of the British American colonies were also becoming a place of significant religious diversity. Over a dozen minority Protestant groups co-existed in Pennsylvania by the mid-eighteenth century.Footnote 28 Philadelphia and the surrounding area produced numerous encounters among groups such as Quakers, radical Pietists, and Labadists. Throughout Britain and its colonies, the influence of continental Europeans on British dissenters was keenly felt. From radical Pietists (French, German, and Dutch) to French Prophets, European millenarians played a key role in developing the theological impulses that led to interactions and exchanges among dissenting groups in the British Atlantic.Footnote 29
Importantly, not all of this religious diversity came from permanent settlers. A number of groups or individuals came to the colonies either to travel as missionaries or to establish temporary settlements. Many interactions of dissenters thus developed out of the necessities of travel. Some Quaker travelers, for example, carried with them the names of potential Baptist contacts in colonial North America.Footnote 30 They also found hospitality from other dissenters. In 1702, the Quaker missionary Samuel Bownas and his guide ate supper with some Labadists who had left Friesland to establish a settlement in Maryland. Three years later, Quakers Esther Palmer and Mary Banister visited Maryland, where they held a meeting (or Quaker worship service) at Isaac Watson's house before spending the night at Luke Watson's. Neither Isaac nor Luke was a Quaker, but both were kind to the traveling Quakers.Footnote 31
In most cases, there was a pattern to transconfessional meetings, which often began out of a spirit of curiosity but usually failed due to the inability of dissenters to overcome doctrinal or other key differences. Curiosity about other dissenting groups stemmed in large part from the desire to seek out like-minded believers, but there was also a broader cultural factor at work—a cultural value placed on travel and the experiences it produced.Footnote 32 Those who wrote travel accounts conveyed an interest and curiosity in the novelty of the places, peoples, and customs they encountered. Thomas Chalkley and Webb, two Quaker missionaries who happened to travel on the same ship from Virginia to England, both noted in their respective accounts that they encountered a large whale during the journey. Dissenters, like many of their contemporaries, tended to interpret the strange or novel in religious and, often, providentialist terms (for Chalkley, the whale and other sea creatures “shew forth the wondrous Works of the Great Creator of all Things.”) Such interpretations were not unique to dissenters but were rather part of the fabric of seventeenth-century culture.Footnote 33 Like many early modern travelers, dissenters wanted to learn more about “strange” cultural or social practices.
What stands out in some dissenters' accounts, though, is the extent to which a curiosity about others' religious practices often dominated their writing. For example, Samuel Bownas, the Quaker missionary who ate supper at the Labadist colony in Maryland, stressed that he was “civilly entertained” in the Labadists' way but intrigued and perplexed by customs that were unfamiliar to him. First, there were no women at the table. Second, the Labadists engaged in a pre-supper ritual in which each man, one at a time, pulled off his hat and sat in silent prayer for fifteen minutes before beginning to eat. Bownas was sufficiently curious that he asked his guide to explain these customs. He even looked for the Labadists later in his travels but found that the group had dispersed.Footnote 34 In another example, Chalkley's ship came across a French vessel while passing near the Azores in 1719. The two ships exchanged some provisions, and Chalkley met the captain, a French Protestant. According to Chalkley, “the Frenchman seeming desirous to know what religion I was of, I told him, by an interpreter, that I was one called a Quaker, or Trembler.” Chalkley told the captain a little about the Quakers and noted that, “when they went away and took leave of us, they desired me to pray for them, the which I remembered with tenderness of spirit.”Footnote 35
In the New World, a curiosity or desire to learn more about the beliefs of others was also apparent among dissenters who encountered non-Europeans. In a letter to the Pietist chaplain Anton Wilhelm Boehm, Quaker missionary Webb related her first encounter with African slaves, revealing that she was curious about their religious state. She observed their conversation and, several weeks later, dreamed that “the call of the Lord” was to them as well.Footnote 36 Samuel Bownas spent a year in a New York prison in 1702 for unlawful preaching. During this year, he received “sundry visits.” He drew particular attention to two of them. The first was from the radical sectarian leader John Rogers, who arrived from New London and spent six days debating with Bownas. The second visit was from “an Indian King” and three of his attendants. Bownas devoted several pages of his travel journal to recording their conversation. He included details of what both parties discussed, recording their discussion in the form of a dialogue. Topics covered included God, the afterlife, good, and evil.Footnote 37 The discussion, in which both parties demonstrated an informative rather than a polemical tone, ended “in great friendship and love, after a stay of one night and almost two days.”Footnote 38 When encountering people of different backgrounds and ethnicities, Bownas and Webb were interested in the religion of these individuals more so than in other cultural, social, or economic practices. The sphere of discourse in which they operated was one centered on debates and conversations about religion.
The same sense of curiosity and inquisitiveness that initiated meetings among dissenters in locations such as houses also drove individuals to attend the worship services or meetings of other minority groups. Some of these individuals who visited other meetings or services were “seekers,” persons who conducted their spiritual lives in a series of different religious settings. The diverse religious climate of the British Atlantic facilitated such religious seeking. Samuel Keimer, a printer who later moved to Philadelphia and apprenticed Benjamin Franklin, had brief affiliations with Baptists, French Prophets, Catholics, and Quakers.Footnote 39 Keimer first attended a meeting of the French Prophets during his own apprenticeship in London. Like many young apprentices in the city, he took advantage of a half-day off work to explore a new group, attending the French Prophet's meeting in Southwark.Footnote 40
Other attendees at religious meetings were there not as seekers but as representatives of other religious affiliations. For example, in 1709, a number of Mennonites visited a Quaker meeting held by Chalkley, who was visiting Harlem during a missionary trip to the Netherlands and Germany. Chalkley described the Mennonites as sober, attentive, and complimentary.Footnote 41 William Penn also encountered a similar experience in Harlem, where “many sober Baptists and Professors” attended his meeting. At another meeting during the same trip, Penn's Meeting was attended by “a mighty Concourse of People from several places of this Country, and that of several Persuasions, Baptists, Presbyterians, Socinians, Seekers, etc.”Footnote 42
Dissenters who met in formal spaces such as meetinghouses or even domestic houses to learn more about one another tended to anticipate that both parties would behave in a certain manner. As several of the above examples have already suggested, there was often a certain formality and courtesy exchanged when religious minorities met one another in arenas such as the meetinghouse. In particular, dissenters held an expectation that both parties would have an opportunity to speak and present themselves.Footnote 43 Both Penn and Stephen Crisp, another seventeenth-century Quaker who traveled as a missionary, implied that printed attacks on one's religious opponents should be preceded by an opportunity for the group in question to present or defend itself in person. Penn criticized the Labadists for issuing a printed attack on the Quakers rather than addressing their concerns in person. Crisp waited to print his attack on Baptist views on baptism until after he received no satisfactory answer during his visit to one of their houses: “And so after many words spoken about this matter, I asked a question, which now I am free to publish, because as yet I can get no answer.”Footnote 44
Yet even in the early stages of meetings, when the emphasis was on extending respect to other potential fellow believers, the desire to seek out other groups ran into conflict with an inability to acknowledge or accept other practices or doctrines. Penn, for example, searched for similarities between the religious practices of the Quakers and the Labadists, while at the same time trying to “censur[e] their weaknesses.”Footnote 45 His openness to conversation and debate was accompanied by a desire to persuade the Labadists of their errors. Similarly, the Philadelphian Richard Roach described in a 1710 letter dated what happened at the first meeting between Philadelphians and French Prophets at Baldwins Gardens in London. He noted that he was present for the meeting, in which “the Spirit through [the French Prophets] in Testimony to the Philadelphian Ministration gave signal Blessings” and ordered one of the attendees “to embrace them round one by one; yet also gave several Reproofs.”Footnote 46
This tension between embracing and giving reproofs was present in most transconfessional encounters, whether it presented itself immediately or developed over time. Allegiance to particular doctrines or practices often kept dissenters from reaching past their differences. The same theological differences that drove dissenters to depart from accepted orthodoxies and state religions also came into play when they encountered other dissenters' beliefs. One extreme example comes from the 1706 merger of the Philadelphians and the French Prophets in London. By 1710, attempts at alliance had failed. Debates transcribed by the French Prophets between June 1710 and June 1712 show the main cause of doctrinal disagreement to have been one of an emphasis on mercy versus judgment. The French Prophets accused Richard Roach (and Sarah Wiltshire, his “copartner in the Philadelphian Way”) of emphasizing “the love of God” at the expense of God's “equally glorious attribute of justice.” In response, Roach accused the French Prophets of placing the Law above grace.Footnote 47
At one point, disagreement between the two groups turned physical, as one of the French Prophets hit Wiltshire repeatedly with his head.Footnote 48 One account of this incident, given by a member of the French Prophets, described the attacks on the Philadelphians as emanating not from human agents but rather from the spirit in the Prophets.Footnote 49 By placing the emphasis on the prophetic nature of the attack—on the spirit acting through the French Prophets—this statement allowed the Prophets to communicate with self-styled prophetic authority their doctrinal position on grace. It also removed any sense of human agency from their actions.
Doctrinal beliefs about election were key in defining the interactions of the Labadist Jasper Danckaerts, who journeyed to the North American colonies in 1679–1680 in search of suitable land for a Labadist colony. He attended multiple religious services as he traveled through the colonies, including Anglican, Independent, Dutch Reformed, and Quaker.Footnote 50 Like many dissenters who traveled in the New World, he also encountered other religious minorities in more informal settings, such as when he ate and slept at the houses of other radical Protestants. As a separatist Calvinist, Danckaerts believed that the Church was a community of elect individuals who should keep themselves from the world. Early in his trip, Danckaerts wrote: “We conversed this evening with the old woman in whose house we slept, and this poor woman seemed to have great enjoyment and fruition, as did also her sons and others with whom we occasionally conversed. It appeared, indeed, as if the Lord might have there the seed of the elect.”Footnote 51
Danckaerts was less than complimentary of his anti-Calvinist Quaker hosts, however. Despite the hospitality that they extended him, he labeled them as a covetous, worldly people. Danckaerts encountered Quakers throughout his journey, and as early as his passage to the colonies he assessed the Quakers he met on board the ship. His lengthiest descriptions came from his time at Tinicum (along the Delaware in Pennsylvania). One evening at the house where he was staying, three women arrived, one of whom was a well known prophetess. Danckaerts could not endure the quaking and groaning of the women under inspiration (an inspiration that he attributed to their having imbibed a dram of rum), and he went outside. Two days later, he ate dinner with the same prophetess. He described the experience as follows:
The dinner being ready, I was placed at the table next to the beforenamed prophetess, who while they all sat at the table, began to groan and quake gradually until at length the whole bench shook. Then rising up she began to pray, shrieking so that she could be heard as far as the river. This done, she was quickly in the dish, and her mouth began immediately to prate worldly and common talk in which she was not the least ready.
Despite Danckaerts's appreciation of his Quaker host, Robert Wade, as “the best Quaker we have seen,” he clearly did not see the Quakers in the same light that he judged the “elect” woman and her sons with whom he stayed earlier in his journey.Footnote 52 Unlike Samuel Bownas, who was intrigued by the unfamiliar practices of the Labadists, Danckaerts expressed disdain or even disgust for the practices of the Quakers. Moreover, similar to the French Prophets' treatment of Richard Roach, Danckaerts implied that the Quakers lacked any real spiritual authority.
Even more censorious than Danckaerts was Bourignon, who claimed to disparage religious divisions. She received visits from a number of groups, including Dutch Calvinists, Lutherans, Anabaptists, Socinians, Arminians, Jews, Mennonites, Labadists, Quakers, and Cartesians. While Bourignon initially welcomed these visitors, she eventually rejected them. She sometimes offered scathing commentary on other religious groups she corresponded with or met. She described Labadie as so preoccupied with predestination that he stated he was ready to die for this belief. She told him that he would be a martyr for the Devil. She also commented that the Quakers sought an inner light, and they were mistaken in thinking that she would join them because she also looked for it. At one point, Bourignon concluded, “Here is the belief that I hold about all the religions that I have discovered here...I have seen enough by these small samplings, that all the pieces cannot be good.”Footnote 53 Like many radical Protestants, the longer Bourignon spent with other groups, the less she found in common with them.Footnote 54 Some of Bourignon's conflicts with others were due to her obstinate personality. But doctrinal differences, such as those over Calvinist theology, contributed decisively to many of the failed encounters.Footnote 55
In sum, transsectarian meetings often did not succeed because dissenters disputed how to accomplish the very issues of reform that brought them together. They failed to agree on key definitions of religious community and authority—ideas that were central to the establishment of a successful alliance. What, for example, was the true Church? While Bourignon envisioned true believers in a framework that rejected sects and denominations, the Labadists spoke in terms of an exclusive church. What would the end times look like and who would usher them in? The Philadelphians, including Lead, leaned toward an understanding of universal restoration—an irenic process in which all souls would ultimately be reconciled with God. In contrast, the French Prophets expressed beliefs in a catastrophic millenarianism.Footnote 56 Their task, as prophetic messengers, was to warn audiences to heed God's call for repentance in this time of divine mercy, before the judgment of God superseded. Who had the authority to participate in public religious life? The currency of most dissenters' exchanges was revelation. It was revelation, rather than factors such as gender or education, that gave one authority to participate in this religious sphere.Footnote 57 Yet dissenters debated who had true revelation, and they did not shy away from accusing one another of false inspiration. Thus, Jasper Danckaerts implied that the Quaker prophetess he met lacked the spiritual power she ascribed to herself. And Bourignon's claim to authority as the one chosen to rally true Christians contributed to her rejection of other prophets as false.Footnote 58
The principle of transsectarian cooperation—and the expectations of dialogue and reciprocity that emerged out of new sites of sociability produced through travel—often could not override the devotion of dissenters to particular doctrines or practices. While many meetings arrived at an impasse, they nonetheless served to engender further discourse among dissenters. Many documented their religious encounters in printed works or correspondence. They also sustained their communications by continuing to write one another after having met in person. By recording their conversations and meetings, dissenters not only commented on and assessed their religious “other,” but they also reinforced and promoted their own beliefs in manuscript and printed writing.
III. Modes of Communication
The letter was the dominant form of writing during the eighteenth century, and dissenters took full advantage of the medium of correspondence in order to connect and debate with one another. Letters of dissenters during this period were in some ways similar to epistles of the Enlightenment public sphere. They communicated news, but they also served as a substitute for conversation. They were a way to communicate important information across long distances. Letters, like the diaries and journals that many dissenters kept, were (at least in their original manuscript form) a private medium.Footnote 59 Nonetheless, they also allowed for the communication and circulation of ideas and beliefs, especially when circulated among religious communities or a broader audience.
A number of religious groups were prolific at correspondence. The English Philadelphians, for example, claimed that they had “an establish'd correspondency in most parts of Europe, relating to the affairs of religion.” The Philadelphian Richard Roach corresponded with French Prophets and Pietists. Quakers also continued to correspond with those they met during their travels. Bourignon's published works included over 800 letters.Footnote 60
Letters varied in purpose and format. Some dissenters wrote letters to follow up on previous conversations begun in person. For the prophet Bourignon—who did not travel much—this practice was particularly useful, but it was also common among other dissenters who were separated by distance.Footnote 61 After Johanna Eleonora Merlau met William Penn in Frankfurt in 1677, the two became friends and continued to correspond.Footnote 62 In 1712, the Quaker Elizabeth Webb exchanged letters with Anton Wilhelm Boehm, a Halle Pietist who came to England as a chaplain. Webb and Boehm had recently met in London. In his letter to Webb, Boehm remarked “how welcome it is . . . whenever I meet with a fellow pilgrim, traveling to the city which is adorned with twelve pearls to receive all such who have made up the family of God in this wicked generation, and have been presented for his peculiar people in all parts and denominations of Christendom.” His reference to a city adorned with twelve pearls referred to New Jerusalem.Footnote 63 Other letters addressed more personal subjects. In one undated letter, for example, the Pietist Rosamunde von Asseburg thanked the Philadelphians for their concern over her sister's recent illness. The letter offered hearty exhortations to the community of Philadelphians, and we gain a sense from it of how these groups not only spent time in theological discourse but also in the establishment of interpersonal connections.Footnote 64
Not all letters focused exclusively on expressions of mutual understanding and affection, though. Letters also served as a means to carry out debates. As in physical meetings, there existed a tension between presenting one's own beliefs and connecting with those who might also be among God's chosen. Johannes Kelpius's millenarianism and attempts at ecumenism are reflected in the correspondence he exchanged with dissenters of Philadelphian, Seventh-Day Baptist, Swedish Lutheran, Swiss Anabaptist, and Quaker persuasions.Footnote 65 In May 1706, Kelpius sent a lengthy letter to the Quaker missionary Esther Palmer in response to her request to see “a few lines from [Kelpius's] hand.” The two likely had met during Palmer's missionary travels through Pennsylvania the previous year. Kelpius described “a double wall” between them, and his long and didactic letter focused on what he called the “threefold wilderness state.” According to Kelpius, each state led closer to spiritual holiness. He believed that the third state of wilderness was open only to an elect few. While Kelpius did not make explicit what, exactly, was the double wall that separated his beliefs from Palmer's, he interpreted the disagreement as a sign that the millennium had not yet arrived. Nonetheless, he desired “that we may behold our Beloved always, standing behind our wall.”Footnote 66 Kelpius's letter points to the centrality of correspondence as a discursive medium. He actively sought out other dissenters, and after meeting Palmer he chose to correspond with her in order to continue their theological debate. His attempt to reach out to Palmer, however, was stymied by loyalty to his beliefs, which included the belief that only an elect few would build the New Jerusalem.
Kelpius's correspondence also points to how letters allowed for the exchange of ideas and beliefs across great distances. In May 1699, Kelpius wrote a letter to the secretary of the Philadelphians, Heinrich Deichmann. Kelpius asked Deichmann not to “omit corresponding very frequently with us, because herein I perceive the special hand of God, therefore I have also procured for you a good address . . . Send us the acts with diligence, in that our friends crave for them and, if possible, something of Por[d]age who is entirely unknown to us.”Footnote 67 John Pordage was the original English leader of the Philadelphian movement in London. Through a courier, Kelpius intended to receive (and read) Pordage's writings.
Letter writing was especially important to Bourignon, whose extensive correspondence sheds light on the ongoing theological conversations she held with various dissenters throughout Europe. As early as 1669, the Quaker Stephen Crisp wrote Bourignon with the hope that he might attract her followers to Quakerism. This plan backfired, and a competition developed between the two groups; Bourignon even took in some Quaker converts.Footnote 68 Bourignon wrote Labadie and van Schurman, disagreeing vehemently with their Calvinist beliefs. She also exchanged letters with a number of individuals who wrote out of a curiosity to learn more about her. In one letter, for example, she responded to a correspondent's inquiries about what she thought of Labadie and Boehme.Footnote 69
Through circulation, letters had the potential to reach a large readership. For dissenters, this meant that epistolary writing served as a way to spread ideas and beliefs while still preserving the intimacy of a conversation. Bourignon, for example, assigned great importance to letter writing, asking one correspondent to copy her letters because they could serve to the advantage of other persons besides the intended recipient: “I have often seen by experience, that those who read the letters by chance profit more from their content than the one to whom I have written them.” Similarly, Kelpius assumed that his letter to Deichmann would be read aloud or circulated among the broader Philadelphian community: “What we [Kelpius and Seelig] as brethren have written, you may communicate at the same time (because the one explaineth the other) without fear and reserve.” Anton Wilhelm Boehm wrote Webb that he no longer had her recent letter in his possession: “[Y]our letter has been read with great satisfaction by myself and many of my friends. But I have not been able to recover it yet out of their hands. Some have even desired to transcribe it for their edification.”Footnote 70
Even in a religious sphere that generally accepted female participation, women such as Bourignon and Webb acknowledged the problems that their gender posed as they authored and circulated texts. When Webb wrote Boehm, she noted that “I have no learned method to deliver my religious experience, either by word or writing, but plainly and simply as the Spirit of Truth directs, and I, being the weaker vessel, too, have the more need to beg to be excused.”Footnote 71 Language of concession was not uncommon among women who wrote during this period, and in its own way such language could serve to empower the author: by acknowledging the restrictions that societal constructions of gender placed upon her, the female writer could deflect some criticisms. But in the case of Webb (and other female letter writers), such language of concession could be read two ways: it is unclear whether the plainness of Webb's writing pointed to a defect, or a sign of God's spirit working through her. Epistles offered a distinct advantage to female writers because letters were—at least in principle—a private medium. Despite this advantage, epistolary writing did not develop into the vehicle for agency that it became for women in the Enlightenment public sphere, who had fewer opportunities for public expression.Footnote 72 While female dissenters sometimes made excuses for participating in public religious discourse, they continued to find—and take advantage of—a variety of opportunities to do so.
In order to expand the circulation and reach of their correspondence, religious groups sometimes published copies of the letters they exchanged with others. William Penn, for example, interspersed some of his correspondence with Johanna Eleonora Merlau and Princess Elisabeth of the Palatinate in his published travel journal.Footnote 73 The intended readership of a letter could thus be much greater in number and scope than the named recipient. The manner in which one letter from a dissenter could reach a large community suggests that letters of dissenters served a similar function to the letters of later eighteenth-century philosophes, who used epistolary writing to bridge the divide between private and public.
It was the printed word, however, that allowed for the mass circulation of ideas, beliefs, and opinions. The circulation of printed works enabled the common readership of such theologians as Boehme, Bourignon, Lead, and Madame Guyon. For example, Boehme's printed works helped his ideas become influential to the theology and theosophy of a number of seventeenth-century and eighteenth-century millenarian groups, including the Philadelphians, some radical Pietists, Bourignon, and the French Prophets.Footnote 74 Print culture enabled dissenters to read one another's work, both informatively and critically, and it shaped their interactions with one another.
We can point to several key events in the history of early modern print culture as it related to dissenters. In the British context, religious writings greatly increased during the Civil Wars due to political upheaval, religious radicalism, and the collapse of press controls. The Licensing or Printing Act of 1662 restored some censorship to the English press, but not to the degree of pre-1640 controls. Dissenters continued to publish their writings. Then, in 1695, the Licensing Act lapsed, officially marking the end of government restrictions and pre-publication censorship. While there were still mechanisms for controlling the press, such as libel and copyright law, the publications of dissenters proliferated. Religious works were at least one third of the total number of published items in early eighteenth-century England. On the continent, printed works also grew rapidly during this period. Printed debates between Pietists and orthodox Lutherans, for example, led to the publication of over 2,000 works between 1670 and 1720.Footnote 75 Also contributing to these high publication numbers in the Northern Atlantic was the fact that religious writers in Britain and the Netherlands faced milder regimes of censorship compared to some of their neighbors, such as France. And in the early modern German states, the practice of censorship had localized nuances, of which some Pietists were able to take advantage.Footnote 76
Writers, printers, patrons, editors, and translators all played a part in the print culture of dissenters. Translators, in particular, held an important role in facilitating the circulation of printed ideas among dissenters—especially between Britain and continental Europe. Translators included followers of a particular prophet or religious figure, as well as outsiders who took an interest in attempts at ecumenism. The motivation to translate other dissenters' works points to the sense of commonality that many dissenters shared; there was a desire to cross confessional boundaries to learn about other religious groups. Dissenters also translated their own works for publication. In 1711, several French Prophets undertook a missionary trip to Holland and Germany. The transcription, a translation into French and Dutch, and publication of their spoken prophecies were important items on their agenda before they returned home.Footnote 77
Baron von Knyphausen, a Prussian nobleman, funded the translation of many of the Philadelphian Jane Lead's publications, allowing her to find a German and Dutch readership.Footnote 78 Bourignon's works received similar treatment to Lead's. Between 1668 and 1685, no fewer than 47 of her works were published in their original language, French. Many of these works were also translated into Dutch, German, and Latin. English translations appeared as early as 1671. Overall, Bourignon's publications for the above-mentioned period numbered 120; her translated works thus outnumbered those in their original language.Footnote 79
Whether dissenters published their writings in translation or in their native language, the target readership was often a transnational one that allowed for the circular exchange of ideas. The example of Behmenism highlights this point. Starting in the mid-seventeenth century, Boehme's works were translated into English by theosophical circles in England. English Behmenists developed Boehme's ideas further and then in turn influenced continental Pietists, who read translated works of the English Behmenists.Footnote 80 The Philadelphians themselves noted in their publication, The State of the Philadelphian Society (1697), that “the English are a Branch from the German root, so some have observ'd a Circulation as it were from the Root to the Branch, and from the Branch to the Root again.”Footnote 81
The example of the Philadelphians also provides insight into the role of print culture in creating an international discursive space for dissenters. In 1695, the year in which the Licensing Act lapsed, Lead and the Philadelphians began a “mission” to proclaim and publicize their cause to the world.Footnote 82 The extent to which the publications that came out of this campaign were both a transnational and a transconfessional effort has been under-emphasized in scholarship. As we have seen, the millenarian belief in a New Jerusalem became a strong impulse for some dissenters to seek out others who had also been chosen to usher in the new age. This was the impetus behind the Philadelphians' publishing campaign. The Philadelphians did not believe that they were the only members of the true Church. Indeed, they suggested that members existed in both Protestant and Roman Catholic countries.Footnote 83 One publication stressed that the Philadelphians were a society interested in reform, rather than a denomination or sect, noting that the Society consisted “of as many as are fellow waiters for the same glorious prize of the first resurrection, and the high immunities of the New Jerusalem-state.” The belief that there were other “fellow waiters for the same glorious prize” spurred the Philadelphians to seek out these individuals.Footnote 84 They saw themselves as part of an international movement for reform, and it was in this spirit that they issued their serial publication, the Theosophical Transactions by the Philadelphian Society, Consisting of Memoirs, Conferences, Letters, Dissertations, Inquiries, etc. for the Advancement of Piety and Divine Philosophy.
The Theosophical Transactions was a product of the late seventeenth century, a formative period in the development of the monthly or quarterly journal. The most famous of these journals was the Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society, first established in 1665. Like other quarterly or monthly journals of its era, the Theosophical Transactions was a collectively authored periodical that drew on international collaboration and input.Footnote 85 The Philadelphians published their periodical over the course of several months, with the first issue dated March 1697 and the last dated September to November 1697. Volumes varied in length from fewer than thirty pages to nearly one hundred. The Philadelphians stated that one goal in issuing their periodical was to “make peace betwixt contending brethren, and to put an end (as far as is possible) to the controversies among the religionaries.”Footnote 86 Accordingly, among the entries were correspondences, translations, and commentaries from radical Protestants throughout Europe.
Many entries dealt with wonders and miracles in continental Europe and Britain. A letter from Hereford, dated 1695 and published in volume 2, related the October 1690 story of a man who saw the apparitions of three persons.Footnote 87 Volume 1 also included “A Relation out of France, concerning a Black Bituminous Vapour, that arose out of the Earth, and did considerable Mischief.”Footnote 88 Such stories of the strange or miraculous proved popular among seventeenth-century readers, but the Philadelphians likely took interest in them for another reason than that of merely attracting readers. Many millenarians would have interpreted such events—especially given the widespread geographical occurrence—as signs that the dawn of the new age was near.
The close connections between English Philadelphians and continental radical Pietists appear in entries by Dutch or German contributors. For example, volume 2 listed an extract of a letter from Johann Petersen. The third volume included an extract of Petersen's wife Johanna Eleonora Merlau's 1696 book on the revelation of Christ.Footnote 89 Through such entries, the Philadelphians promoted the idea that they shared a religious culture with other like-minded persons on the continent. Their focus on wonders, miracles, and a search for signs of the end times drew on correspondences and contacts from several countries.
The Philadelphians abandoned the Theosophical Transactions after just five issues. Their publishing campaign, however, continued for several more years.Footnote 90 For a small group, their publishing power was remarkable. The writings of Lead, especially, became known across Europe. In the weeks after Lead's death in 1704, Francis Lee, Lead's son in-law and disciple, wrote and received various letters addressing Lead, her death, and her legacy. Among the collection we find an account written by a woman who experienced a vision of the recently deceased Lead. This woman, Hannah of Utrecht, had connections to other dissenters who knew about Lead. In her account, she wrote that she was staying with a friend who had two books. One was the “mystic treatise of a popish doctor,” which her friend gave to her to read: “But because I had already read it, I took hold of the other, which was the Heavenly Cloud and Revelation of Revelations of Madam Lead, the which I had never before seen: and this I beg'd her to lend me.”Footnote 91 That Lead's book numbered among Hannah's host's small library is a salient example of Lead's presence in the published world. Groups such as the Philadelphians took full advantage of the printed word as they attempted to reach past their own boundaries and seek out other potential reformers.
IV. Conclusion
The debates and interactions that engaged dissenters throughout Europe and the British Atlantic would not have been possible without travel, correspondence, and the printed word working together to allow for the rapid and widespread exchange of ideas. Epistolary networks and the transatlantic circulation of religious writings (both manuscript and print) certainly predated the activities of the groups considered here. Seventeenth-century Quakers, Puritans, and Pietists all established intraconfessional networks that relied on transatlantic communication. And in the second half of the seventeenth century, as Rosalind Beiler has shown, Pietists, Quakers, and Mennonites began to create transatlantic communication networks that crossed sectarian lines and facilitated aid distribution and European migration.Footnote 92 By the mid-eighteenth century, evangelicals began to use the mechanisms of the public sphere to participate in the debates of the transatlantic revivals.Footnote 93
The interactions of Labadists, Quakers, Philadelphians, radical Pietists, French Prophets, Bourignonians, and other reform-minded dissenting groups in the half-century before the Great Awakening point to a distinct moment in the development of transatlantic religious exchange. Their attempts at ecumenism relied on some of the same mechanisms that propelled other periods of transatlantic revival and religious exchange but had motives, goals, and audiences that were unique to the context of late seventeenth- and early-eighteenth century radical Protestantism.Footnote 94 While many groups from this period attempted to attract others to their fold through conversion and evangelism, this audience was not their sole (or, at times, even the primary) concern.Footnote 95 There also existed a sphere of exchange characterized by interactions between and among radical Protestants who purposefully sought out other “fellow pilgrim[s], traveling to the city which is adorned with twelve pearls.”Footnote 96 Dissenters' attempts at crossing confessional divisions were motivated in large part by a search for and curiosity about other builders of New Jerusalem, other chosen reformers in an expanding world.
Like later public-sphere participants who created a space of discourse apart from the state, late seventeenth- and early eighteenth-century dissenters succeeded in creating a space outside of the official ecclesiastical space, one that was conducive to meetings and debates. In doing so, they drew on the mechanisms and structures of the public sphere—particularly those that arose out of a revolution in communication, such as new sites of sociability, epistolary networks, and the printed word—to engage in religious discourse and debates in a transnational setting.Footnote 97 They traveled to meet other religionists. They invoked codes of expected behavior in their interactions. They circulated and published letters. The Philadelphians even founded an ecumenical periodical that had similarities in content and scope to the quarterly journals of Enlightenment England.Footnote 98
Dissenters often did not find what they were looking for in one another. As their failed encounters and alliances reveal, an inability to overcome doctrinal or other differences usually interfered with goals of cooperation. But even in these moments of failure, they defined and promoted their own beliefs and doctrines through their discourse and interactions with others. As William Penn told the Labadists, “for those who are come to any measure of a Divine Sense, they are as Looking-glasses to each other, seeing themselves in each other, as Face answereth Face in a Glass.”Footnote 99