like yourself and every other Latter Day Saint preacher, have no salary
except the voluntary contributions of the people where we labour; and
having been absent from my family nearly two years, my arm and my
purse have been too short to render them much assistance. I wish you,
therefore, to forward a sufficient number of copies to each branch
of the church any where this side of the Atlantic, that all who wish
for a copy may have one; and whatever any brother, sister, or friend,
shall be disposed to give in return, for the benefit of my wife and
children, will be most gratefully received by them, and no less so by
me. It can be handed to the agent to whom you shall send the copies,
and he can forward it to you through the post, or otherwise as you
shall direct, which will enable you to pay the printer; and the balance
(should there be any) I will advise you in due time how to convey it
to my family. But should you discover any impropriety in the plan, or
should it be inconsistent for you to carry it into execution, you are
at liberty to use the document as your better wisdom may direct you,
only send it in some form to Nauvoo as soon as possible. Perhaps I feel
too anxious about my family, but where the heart has only few objects
to share its sympathies, upon those few objects the sun of affection
shines with warmer and more brilliant ray. My family is my earthly
all; and of late my feelings concerning them are very peculiar. It is
nearly a year since I have heard anything of them, and being confined
here in quarantine, perhaps I have become childish. My kind respects to
yourself and family, to brothers Snow and Adams, and to all the Saints
in England; may God bless you all: pray for me. I am your brother in
Christ,
ORSON HYDE.
P.S. In justice to the American missionaries at Jerusalem, I must
say, however, particularly of Mr. Whiting, with whom I became most
acquainted, that as men, their conduct towards me was both courteous
and civil; and when I left Mr. W.'s house I could not withhold my
blessing from himself and family--his interesting wife and lovely
little girls, who all speak fluently the English and Arabic. A kind
word or action towards a stranger in a strange land is not soon
forgotten. May the Lord bless them and their families with his
salvation, through the knowledge of the truth, was my desire then, and
is my prayer still.
Note.--Expecting a letter or letters from you to be lodged in Bavaria
for me, I have addressed a note there requesting them (if any) to be
forwarded to me at this place; but as my note went on shore in the
bustle without the postage being paid, and having to pass through
different kingdoms, I do not expect it will be forwarded. I hope,
however, to get news from you and the church when I get there myself. I
hope also to hear something from my wife. I feel that a word from her
would be more precious than gold; yet I am afraid to hear lest she may
be in trouble, or some of her friends dead--a father or mother perhaps,
or brother or sister. Yet I try to comfort myself with the thought that
my long absence is the cause of all my bad feelings. The Lord knows,
and I pray that he may bind up every broken heart. Fare-thee-well; thy
brother in the Lord,
O. H.
* * * *
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.