LETTER II.
Trieste, January 17, 1842.
DEAR BRETHREN AND SISTERS AT NAUVOO,
I have just written a lengthy letter to the Twelve, and sent it by way of Elder Pratt, in England. In that, and in a former one written to him from Alexandria in Egypt, is contained an account of my mission to Jerusalem. I feel, however, as though I wished to write a few lines more on this the last day of my confinement on ship board, where I have spent the last fifty-six days: six days in the harbour of Alexandria—twenty-two days on our passage—and twenty-eight here in quarantine. To-morrow, if the Lord will, the the jubilant song, with its thrice welcome melody, will greet the ears of a poor captive exile, the prison doors give way, and he be permitted once more to breathe the air of freedom in a land where he is not annoyed by the sight of the star and crescent, the turban and the covered face—all of which are an abomination in my sight.
The thoughts which I record will, no doubt, be scattering, and like "the gleaning of grapes when the vintage is done;" or like a few indolent belated stragglers going to the place of worship on a Sabbath morning after the more conscientious and faithful have broken the silence which hovered around the place of their devotion, and greeted the morning with their prayers and joyful acclamations of praise to the Lord their God.
It is now rapidly advancing to the close of two long years since I had the pleasure of mingling my voice with yours in ascribing honour and thanksgiving to that Being whose arm alone has been my support, and whose kind angel has swept the misty vapours far away which dispondency would feign cast over the star of hope, and nearly one year since I have heard ought direct from you. While in Bavaria, I saw a statement in a German paper that Brother Joseph had been apprehended and confined in prison. I knew not but that it might be so; yet I was inclined to set it down among the numerous deaths which he has suffered, the imprisonments which he has endured, and the various runaways of which he has been guilty, according to the flood of newspaper slang which has been poured forth upon a deceived public: but as time allows nothing to remain stationary, you may judge of my anxiety to hear from you, particularly when the happiness or misery of my own dear wife and little children is identified with your own.
I sometimes fancy myself in your midst, in my hours of silent meditation, gazing upon a large concourse of saints. I see many, very many strange faces that I never saw before; while others with whom I was familiarly acquainted, I do not see. Being anxious to know where they are, I inquire after them; but am told, with a sigh that contains no fiction, that time—that cruel and unfeeling destroyer of the human race, has borne them on his untiring wing to a long and sleepy mansion, to await the hour when the voice of the Archangel and the trumpet of God shall bid their sleeping dust arise, and come forth to receive the reward of their labours. O, ye precious souls! your debt is paid, and I cannot but embalm your memory with a tear as these lines slip from my pen.
There, for instance, sits a brother looking steadily upon his little daughter. His melancholy mien bespeaks a heart wadeing deep in sorrow: he puts his handkerchief to his face and bursts into tears. I ask the cause of that; and am told, that that brother has lately lost his wife; and as he looked upon the young and tender flower, and recognised in her the kind and affectionate features of the companion of his youth who now sleeps in the arms of death, he immediately contrasted all her virtues with every unkind word that he might have given her, and every ungenerous action; and the thought that his children are bereft of a mother, and his own bosom of its dearest friend, swells his heart to a burst of grief; and every unkind word which he might have given her in the warmth of the moment, now rushes upon his memory, pierces his soul, and adds an additional pang to the flood of grief which overwhelms him. "Husbands," whoever you are, "love your wives, and be not bitter against them." The delicacy of their sex, the vivid perceptibility of their mind, and the soft and engaging virtues of their heart, which weave themselves into the rugged recesses of man's masculine temperament and constitute him a fit member of society, render them entitled to the warmest affections of your heart, and to the generous protection of your arm.
In another part sits a sister clad in deep mourning, with a number of little children about her. The solemnity which sits upon the countenance, and the sad melancholy which lingers in her eyes, declare that her mourning is not all on the outside. She looks upon the little ones and beholds in them the generous and manly features of their sire, but his place his vacant: And pray, where is he? Oh! as the sturdy oak of the forest is laid low by the shaft from heaven, so has their dear father fallen by an arrow from the bow of a strong archer, and these young and tender branches which have sprung forth from his roots, only are left to perpetuate his name. None but God knows the anguish of that sister's heart, as she hides her face, and pours forth her grief in flowing streams of tearful eloquence. But stay, my hand, open not those wounds afresh when thou hast no balm to bind them up: but may the Lord, whose province it is to comfort all that mourn, and to bind up the broken-hearted, soothe the sorrows of those afflicted ones, and pour the oil of consolation into their grieved and wounded spirit.
When, oh! when shall human grief and woe come to a final end? Thank kind heaven, there is a time when these must cease. In the times of the restitution of all things, when the son of the virgin shall have disarmed death of his power and triumphed over every foe of man; then shall the tree of life spread wide its branches, bloom in eternal spring, and exhale his rich and life-giving odours to the breeze, carrying life, health, and joy upon its balmy wing to every department of God's creation. "Behold we bring you glad tidings of great joy which shall be unto all people."
I have not performed this long journey without encountering some few hardships, but I will not mention them; suffice it to say, that I am well at present. The past is over and gone, and I leave the future with my master. You certainly have an interest in my prayers day and night, and I hope you will send up a good wish occasionally for me; yes, even for me. I need it. My heart is full, and I can write no more upon these matters.
Let me now tell you something about a thunderstorm at sea. I have crossed the Atlantic three times—once the German and Black seas, and all about the Levante, besides sailing much on the American waters; but never, no, never before did I witness nature in such a rage on the deep, as once on this last voyage off the island of Candia, about the 7th of December. The sun sat behind the rising bulwarks of a dark and gloomy cloud as though he would not look upon the scene that awaited us: this said to the experienced tar, "there is danger on the deep." About six o'clock in the evening, the breath of the monster reached us: all hands aloft furling sails. The sky became suddenly black—the sea began to roll in upon our weather-beam and lash the hull of our ship, tossing her from surge to surge with as much ease as a giant would sport with an infant. The scene became grand. Our vessel stood on her course—wind on her larboard quarter, and under fore and close-reefed maintopsail only; while thunders loud and long uttered their voices from on high, and rolled through the vaulted canopy as if clothed with the official mandate from Jehovah for the sea to give up its dead. The lightnings issued from the womb of darkness in fiery streams of blazing vengeance to light up the terror of the storm. A feeling of solemnity and awe rolled across my bosom as I gazed upon the troubled deep, raging in the wildness and fury of a tempest. The spray of the clipped surge was frequently whirled on the wing of the eddying currents like mighty cascades upon our deck, while the rain descended like torrents from the mountains. Abroad on the deep, the crested billows rolled high their fleecy heads, and threw up thin sheets of foam in great majesty, coruscating in the lightning's glare; and for a few minutes it really appeared to me that the elements had engaged in a pitched battle—the crown of sovereignty to be awarded to the victor. The winds howled through our almost naked shrouds like a thousand winged spirits waiting to chaunt our requiem; but under the providential care of HIM who governs the winds and the waves, and who formed the ocean from his palm, our gallant barque bore us safely out the gale. Then said I—
"God speed thee, good ship, on thy pathway of foam,
The sea is thy country, the billow thy home."
When the light of the next morning had dawned upon us, I arose and went out upon deck, and found our lady of the deep attired in full dress, bearing us over the bosom of the gently rolling billow, apparently as careless and unconcerned as though nothing had happened; and, safely has she brought us into port, so I will sing—
Now on Europe's shores we're landed,
Far away from ocean's roar;
Where howling winds and rolling surges,
Disturb our anxious hearts no more.Still is every note of tempest,
Calmly sleeps the peerless wave;
An emblem of our friends departed,
Whose dust reposes in the grave.Thanks to Him who holds the billow,
And rides aloft on fleecy clouds;
Let heaven, earth, and seas adore him,
With all the vast unnumber'd crowds.Worthy! worthy is the Saviour!
Who, for sinners, once was slain;
Swell! oh, swell! the joyful anthem,
All ye wretched sons of men.Come unto this bleeding fountain,
Meek and lowly you must be;
Bear the cross and wash in Jordan,
Then from guilt he'll set you free.
My poetic organ is not largely developed, so for the correctness of the measure and rhyme of these few lines I will not be responsible.
When in Bavaria I wrote brother Joseph a long letter; it was sometime in August last. I hope he received it, for I think it would do him good—at least it was written with that intention; and I sent one to my wife at about the same time: the answers I hope to receive when I get to Bavaria again.
Fare you well; I love you all, I pray for you all, and by the grace of God, I always shall. I am your brother, far away, and yet near,
ORSON HYDE.
Regenshurgh, January 30, 1842.
TO BROTHER PRATT ALONE,
Sir,—I have thought proper to send this letter to you also, for the same reasons as are assigned in the other. You will therefore publish them both together, if you shall think proper to do any thing with them. The whole was written in Trieste, except these last lines. Not having a convenient opportunity to send them from that place, I brought them with me here to Regensburgh. I now have the pleasure of acknowledging the receipt of your two letters, and one from my wife and brother Joseph, dated 14th November last. I was thrice glad to hear from you all: I laughed and cried altogether. I have no room here to reply, but you may hear from me again by and by.
Dear Brother,—I have not forgotten looking at you through the crevices of a prison, neither have I forgotten what my thoughts were at that time; but if I had had the strength of a Sampson, then was the time that I would have used it for your deliverance. I need not be particular to explain my own situation at that time; "but God be thanked that I am where I am." If enemies are strong and many, nail your flag to the spanker gaff, keep close to the wind, and if your metal is not heavy enough, the artillery of heaven will play upon them.
ORSON HYDE.
LETTER III.[A]
[Footnote A: This letter and the following are of much earlier date than the two preceding, and have either wholly or in part appeared previously in the Millennial Star.]
Alexandria, Nov. 22, 1841.
DEAR BROTHER PRATT,
A few minutes now offer for me to write, and I improve them in writing to you.
I have only time to say that I have seen Jerusalem precisely according to the vision which I had. I saw no one with me in the vision; and although Elder Page was appointed to accompany me there, yet I found myself there alone.
The Lord knows that I have had a hard time, and suffered much, but I have great reason to thank him that I enjoy good health at present, and have a prospect before me of soon going to a civilized country, where I shall see no more turbans or camels. The heat is most oppressive, and has been all through Syria.
I have not time to tell you how many days I have been at sea, without food, or how many snails I have eaten; but if I had had plenty of them, I should have done very well. All this is contained in a former letter to you, written from Jaffa.
I have been at Cairo, on the Nile, because I could not get a passage direct. Syria is in a dreadful state—a war of extermination is going on between the Drewzes and Catholics. At the time I was at Beyrout, a battle was fought in the mountains of Lebanon, near that place, and about 800 killed. Robberies, thefts, and murders, are daily being committed. It is no uncommon thing to find persons in the street without heads. An English officer in going from St. Jean d'Acre to Beyrout, found ten persons murdered in the street, and was himself taken prisoner, but was rescued by the timely interference of the Pacha. The particulars of all these things are contained in a former letter.
An American traveller, named Gager, a licensed minister of the Congregational or Presbyterian Church, left Jerusalem in company with me. He was very unwell with the jaundice when we left, and at Damietta we had to perform six days' quarantine before we ascended the Nile. On our passage up he was taken very ill with a fever, and became helpless. I waited and tended upon him as well as our circumstances would allow; and when we landed at Bulack, I got four men to take him to the American consul's, in Cairo, on a litter; I also took all his baggage there, and assisted in putting him upon a good bed—employed a good faithful Arabian nurse, and the English doctor. After the physician had examined him, he told me that he was very low with a typhus fever, and that it would be doubtful whether he recovered. Under these circumstances I left him to obtain a passage to this place. After I had gone on board a boat, and was just about pushing off, a letter came from the doctor, stating that poor Mr. Gager died in about two hours after I left him. He told me before we arrived at Cairo, that he was 27 years of age, and his friends lived in Norwich, Connecticut, near New London, I think. There are many particulars concerning his death which would be interesting to his friends, but I have no time to write them now.
On Sunday morning, October 24th, a good while before day, I arose from sleep, and went out of the city as soon as the gates were opened, crossed the brook Cedron, and went upon the Mount of Olives, and there, in solemn silence, with pen, ink, and paper, just as I saw in the vision, offered up the following prayer to him who lives for ever and ever:
"O Thou! who art from everlasting to everlasting, eternally and unchangeably the same, even the God who rules in the heavens above, and controls the destinies of men on the earth, wilt Thou condescend, through thine infinite goodness and royal favour, to listen to the prayer of thy servant which he this day offers up unto thee in the name of thy holy child Jesus, upon this land where the Sun of Righteousness sat in blood, and thine Anointed One expired.
"Be pleased, O Lord, to forgive all the follies, weaknesses, vanities, and sins of thy servant, and strengthen him to resist all future temptations. Give him prudence and discernment that he may avoid the evil, and a heart to choose the good; give him fortitude to bear up under trying and adverse circumstances, and grace to endure all things for thy name's sake, until the end shall come, when all the saints shall rest in peace.
"Now, O Lord! thy servant has been obedient to the heavenly vision which thou gavest him in his native land; and under the shadow of thine outstretched arm, he has safely arrived in this place to dedicate and consecrate this land unto Thee, for the gathering together of Judah's scattered remnants, according to the predictions of the holy prophets—for the building up of Jerusalem again after it has been trodden down by the Gentiles so long, and for rearing a temple in honour of thy name. Everlasting thanks be ascribed unto thee, Father! Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast preserved thy servant from the dangers of the seas, and from the plague and pestilence which have caused the land to mourn. The violence of man has also been restrained, and thy providential care by night and by day has been exercised over thine unworthy servant. Accept, therefore, O Lord, the tribute of a grateful heart for all past favours, and be pleased to continue thy kindness and mercy towards a needy worm of the dust.
"O Thou, who didst covenant with Abraham, thy friend, and who didst renew that covenant with Isaac, and confirm the same with Jacob with an oath, that thou wouldst not only give them this land for an everlasting inheritance, but that thou wouldst also remember their seed for ever. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, have long since closed their eyes in death, and made the grave their mansion. Their children are scattered and dispersed abroad among the nations of the Gentiles like sheep that have no shepherd, and are still looking forward for the fulfilment of those promises which thou didst make concerning them; and even this land, which once poured forth nature's richest bounty, and flowed, as it were, with milk and honey, has, to a certain extent, been smitten with barrenness and sterility since it drank from murderous hands the blood of Him who never sinned.
"Grant, therefore, O Lord, in the name of thy well-beloved Son, Jesus Christ, to remove the barrenness and sterility of this land, and let springs of living water break forth to water its thirsty soil. Let the vine and the olive produce in their strength, and the fig tree bloom and flourish. Let the land become abundantly fruitful when possessed by its rightful heirs; let it again flow with plenty to feed the returning prodigals who come home with a spirit of grace and supplication; upon it let the clouds distil virtue and richness, and let the fields smile with plenty. Let the flocks and the herds greatly increase and multiply upon the mountains and the hills; and let thy great kindness conquer and subdue the unbelief of thy people. Do thou take from them their stony heart, and give them a heart of flesh; and may the sun of thy favour dispel the cold mists of darkness which have beclouded their atmosphere. Incline them to gather in upon this land according to thy word. Let them come like clouds and like doves to their windows. Let the large ships of the nations bring them from the distant isles; and let kings become their nursing fathers, and queens with motherly fondness, wipe the tear of sorrow from their eye.
"Thou, O Lord, did once move upon the heart of Cyrus to shew favour unto Jerusalem and her children. Do thou now also be pleased to inspire the hearts of kings and the powers of the earth to look with a friendly eye towards this place, and with a desire to see thy righteous purposes executed in relation thereto. Let them know that it is thy good pleasure to restore the kingdom unto Israel—raise up Jerusalem as its capital, and constitute her people a distinct nation and government, with David thy servant, even a descendant from the loins of ancient David, to be their king.
"Let that nation or that people who shall take an active part in behalf of Abraham's children, and in the raising up of Jerusalem, find favour in thy sight. Let not their enemies prevail against them, neither let pestilence or famine overcome them, but let the glory of Israel overshadow them, and the power of the highest protect them; while that nation or kingdom that will not serve thee in this glorious work must perish, according to thy word—'Yea, those nations shall be utterly wasted.'
"Though thy servant is now far from his home, and from the land bedewed with his earliest tear, yet he remembers, O Lord, his friends who are there, and family, whom for thy sake he has left. Though poverty and privation be our earthly lot, yet ah! do Thou richly endow us with an inheritance where moth and rust do not corrupt, and where thieves do not break through and steal.
"The hands that have fed, clothed, or shown favour unto the family of thy servant in his absence, or that shall hereafter do so, let them not lose their reward, but let a special blessing rest upon them, and in thy kingdom let them have an inheritance when thou shalt come to be glorified in this society.
"Do Thou also look with favour upon all those through whose liberality I have been enabled to come to this island; and in the day when thou shalt reward all people according to their works, let these also not be past by or forgotten, but in time let them be in readiness to enjoy the glory of those mansions which Jesus has gone to prepare. Particularly do thou bless the stranger in Philadelphia, whom I never saw, but who sent me gold, with a request that I should pray for him in Jerusalem. Now, O Lord, let blessings come upon him from an unexpected quarter, and let his basket be filled, and his storehouse abound with plenty, and let not the good things of the earth be his only portion, but let him be found among those to whom it shall be said, 'Thou hast been faithful over a few things, and I will make thee ruler over many.'
"O my father in heaven! I now ask thee in the name of Jesus to remember Zion, with all her stakes, and with all her assemblies. She has been grievously afflicted and smitten; she has mourned; she has wept; her enemies have triumphed, and have said, 'Ah, where is thy God?' Her priests and prophets have groaned in chains and fetters within the gloomy walls of prisons, while many were slain, and now sleep in the arms of death. How long, O Lord, shall iniquity triumph, and sin go unpunished?
"Do Thou arise in the majesty of thy strength, and make bare thine arm in behalf of thy people. Redress their wrongs, and turn their sorrow into joy. Pour the spirit of light and knowledge, grace and wisdom, into the hearts of her prophets, and clothe her priests with salvation. Let light and knowledge march forth through the empire of darkness, and may the honest in heart flow to their standard, and join in the march to go forth to meet the Bridegroom.
"Let a peculiar blessing rest upon the presidency of thy church, for at them are the arrows of the enemy directed. Be thou to them a sun and shield, their strong tower and hiding-place; and in the time of distress or danger be thou near to deliver. Also the quorum of the twelve, do thou be pleased to stand by, for thou knowest the obstacles which we have to encounter, the temptations to which we are exposed, and the privations which we must suffer. Give us, therefore, strength according to our day, and help us to bear a faithful testimony of Jesus and his gospel, and to finish with fidelity and honour the work which thou hast given us to do, and then give us a place in thy glorious kingdom. And let this blessing rest upon every faithful officer and member in thy church. And all the glory and honour will we ascribe unto God and the Lamb for ever and ever. Amen."
On the top of Mount Olives I erected a pile of stones as a witness according to the ancient custom. On what was anciently called Mount Zion, where the temple stood, I erected another, and used the rod according to the prediction upon my head.
I have found many Jews who listened with intense interest. The idea of the Jews being restored to Palestine is gaining ground in Europe almost every day. Jerusalem is strongly fortified with many cannon upon its walls. The wall is ten feet thick on the sides that would be most exposed, and four or five feet where the descent from the wall is almost perpendicular. The number of inhabitants within the walls is about twenty thousand. About seven thousand of this number are Jews, the balance being mostly Turks and Armenians. Many of the Jews who are old go to this place to die, and many are coming from Europe into this Eastern world. The great wheel is unquestionably in motion, and the word of the Almighty has declared that it shall roll.
I have not time to write particulars now, but suffice it to say, that my mission has been quite as prosperous as I could expect.
I am now about to go on board a fine ship for Trieste, and from thence I intend to proceed to Regensburgh, and there publish our faith in the German language. There are those who are ready and willing to assist me.
I send you this letter by Captain Withers, an English gentleman, who goes direct to England on board the Oriental steamer. He has come with me from Jerusalem. If I had money sufficient I should be almost tempted to take passage on board of her to England, but this I cannot do.
On receipt of this, I wish you to write to me immediately, and direct to Regensburgh, on the Danube, Beyern, or Bavaria. If you know anything of my family, tell me.
My best respects to yourself and family, to brothers Adams and Snow, and to all the saints in England.
May grace, mercy, and peace, from God our Father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ, rest upon you all from this time, henceforth, and for ever. Amen.
Your brother in Christ,
ORSON HYDE.
P.S. Mr. Gager died on the 15th instant, at four o'clock in the afternoon.