With God—over the sea;Without him—not over the threshold.—Russian Proverb.
With God—over the sea;Without him—not over the threshold.
—Russian Proverb.
At the time of which I write this, the fall of 1744, Prior Onesimus and his three brothers were in the ascendency, and for a time it seemed as though Brother Beissel would be completely overthrown in his rule by these designing Eckerlings; but they who thought our superintendent easy to overcome reckoned without their host, for while to the worldly minded he had not the graces and attractiveness that marked our prior, our superintendent, though harmless as a dove, had the wisdom and subtilty of the serpent, and thus at this time, when the strain between these two had increased from day to day, Prior Onesimus, no doubt for purposes ofhis own, conceived the idea that we make a pilgrimage to the Sabbatarian communities in Connecticut and Rhode Island. I recollect full well that when he made his desire known to our superintendent, suggesting possibly a short absence would tend to heal their differences, Brother Beissel at once gave his consent.
But if our prior had thought to surround himself with his own followers and thus make this enterprise redound solely to his credit he was greatly mistaken, for the superintendent quietly suggested the prior take with him his own brother, Jephune, and Brother Timotheus (Alexander Mack), and myself as traveling companions, the prior being promised by our superintendent that in the meantime he would attend to the prior's duties at the meetings. This was not exactly to our prior's liking, but Brother Beissel pointed out that these brethren were selected in order to insure the success of the expedition as well as the welfare and comfort of the party. Thus the prior would represent the Zionitic Brethren and the Theosophists of the community; Brother Timotheus, the secular congregation and the Baptists in general; Jephune, our mystic and astrologer, would serve as the physician of the party; while I was to be the theologian and interpreter.
Thus it was arranged and we at once began our brief preparations for the journey: extra soles forour wooden sandals, the points of our pilgrim staffs sharpened, a day's provisions for the inner man, a copy of the "Weyrauch's Hügel," and a few of Brother Beissel's "Theosophische Episteln" for the spiritual man. I have it on my records that this occurred on the Friday of September 21, 1744, almost a year since our dear sister had left us, on the night of which an unusually solemn love feast was held in theSaal, at Zion, in our honor. The services lasted far into the night, even the hours between the midnight prayers and the dawn being passed in prayer. The next morning being our Sabbath we all were present at the meeting of the congregation, where every one bade us a most loving God-speed.
But in all these simple preparations and pious services I confess I had nigh forgotten my Sonnlein, and when the thought of him came to me on that Sabbath Day as to what he would do in my absence, I feared I should have to seek my release from the superintendent, for I am proud to say, never did boy hang to his mother's skirts more closely than did Sonnlein follow upon my heels, so much so it became a byword in our little camp that it could be depended on when one of us appeared, it would not be long until you saw the other, and indeed we were inseparable. During the day he would trot after me wherever my duties took me, whether in the fields or in the printingroom, or rambling in the woods for wild flowers, and as he grew older he insisted upon attending the midnight devotions, just as the grown-up Brothers and Sisters. With the exception of my brief sojourn in Lancaster in the matter of the levies, we had never been separated for more than a few hours at a time, and I knew if I left him now for this long journey the poor boy would be utterly disconsolate. I also knew full well that our Brother Beissel, though not a hater of children, still had little patience with them, and I doubted much whether he and Sonnlein could stand the trial of my long absence. I called Sonnlein to me and told him I was about to go away for a great many weeks. At once he danced and jumped about me in a most uncloistral manner, apparently never doubting for a moment that, as in the past, he would be with me; but when I said to him, "'Tis a far journey, Sonnlein, too far for thee," I saw the tears in his eyes, though he tried to keep them down as he asked:
"Am I not to go with thee,Vaterchen?"
"Nay, I fear not, Sonnlein; 'tis a long way over rough roads and through tangled paths, through great, lonely forests, where there are wild beasts, and then the wild sea to make thee sick. We know not what hardships we may have to endure."
"But I can walk,Vaterchen; I am not afraid of the lonely woods, not if I am with thee."
"But how about the sea?"
"Thou canst give me physic," he replied so innocently I could not refrain from laughing, whereat he pouted and grumbled, "I'm not afraid of the sea, and on land I can walk as well as 'Old Air-smeller.'"
"What!" I cried in amazement. "Whom dost mean by such irreverent name?" I demanded.
"Brother Jephune," he confessed; "he sticketh his nose into the air when he walketh about, so he falleth over everything."
"Is't needful you call him such name?"
"So the neighbors call him."
"Must do what foolish ones do?"
"Nay;" and then, looking up with repentance writ all over him, he said, "May I go? I can walk and I won't mind the water. Thou knowest I am fond of water," which was the truth, for when he was not with me he was swimming or fishing in the Cocalico, or hunting in the woods when the Cocalico was too cold.
Indeed, I doubted not he could endure the journey as well as most of us, for he was a hardy, active boy, and with our healthful life had never known a day of sickness. I liked no better to be separated from him than did he, and had he quietly taken my suggestion to remain I had been greatly disappointed; but when I broached the matter to my brother pilgrims they at first demurred, and yetthey loved my boy, for with all his mischievousness he was always ready and willing to do the bidding of any of them. Finally, upon my persuasions, they acknowledged it would be safe for him to make the journey. Accordingly I prepared a little pilgrim's staff for him and saw that he had a stout pair of sandals, and with a little bag of provisions for him we started out at six o'clock of that Sabbath evening on our journey, the assembled Brotherhood and Sisterhood watching us from Mount Zion until we were out of sight.
But once fairly upon our way, we walked, as was our custom, bareheaded and silently, in single file, Prior Onesimus at the head and myself at the rear, all except Sonnlein, who neither kept silence nor in file, almost exhausting me with his innumerable questions; at one moment he would be ahead of us and the next in the rear, now stopping to gather a handful of nuts that had dropped from the trees along our way or else to pluck the wild grapes that hung in royal purple from the luxuriant vines, and then rushing after me, tempting me to share his feast.
At first our course led us through the settlements of our German brethren in the eastern part of Lancaster County; thence among our English brethren in Nantmill, where we stopped for a few days and held several missionary meetings. From the Falls of French Creek we took the road amongthe German families; thence across the Schuylkill to the German settlements along the roadside leading to Germantown. A somewhat prolonged stop was made with our brother mystics on the Wissahickon, among whom we found much solace and comfort; thence a short visit to the brethren of the faith in the city of Philadelphia; thence our missionary tour took us to the Pennepack.
Thus far our pilgrimage had taken us mainly among the brethren of our own belief, and yet wherever we went our bare, cropped heads, long beards, white cloaks and cowls, our silence and manner of traveling, attracted considerable attention and even ridicule and grossest insults. Sonnlein, however, being never late in informing the curious ones who we were; and while I admonished him frequently against his too great freedom with strangers, there is no doubt that by his frankness he saved us much annoyance, for I have long ago learned that one will be forgiven much if he only be open and candid, no matter how wicked he be; but if, like a turtle, he keep within his shell and mind his own business like a good, honest turtle, every idler and good-for-naught must hurl stones at him to crack his shell.
After crossing the Neshaminy Creek at the falls we were ferried across the Delaware—a wonderful sight to Sonnlein—and entered our sister province of New Jersey. Arriving at Amwell, wewere greatly rejoiced to find the converts baptized some six years before by some of our brethren still keeping up their organization and considering themselves a branch of the parent community at Ephrata.
We remained here for some time and then parted from our dear brethren in mutual sadness, for we knew not whether we should ever see each other again.
And now our journey took us through long stretches of forest and for miles and miles our way was but a narrow path among tall, solemn pines so thickly grown and so crowded with brush and vines underneath as to have a most gloomy and depressing effect even upon the most cheerful of us. Now and then we came upon some little stream or pond that looked almost black under the shadows of the bordering pines. These streams and ponds were the only changes in the landscape excepting the occasional sand hills, and the only sound to break the monotony would be the note of some bird. Houses we saw not for hours and even for days, and many a night we slept within the folds of these dark and gloomy forests, our roof the thick, heavy branches of the pines, through which, on clear nights, the stars smiled down cheerily.
But though the nights were already cold and frosty and I feared exceedingly Sonnlein wouldsuffer from the exposure, still with a fire burning all night to keep us warm and to frighten away wild beasts we minded not the hard, rough earth with the thin carpet of pine twigs and needles any more than our hard benches in ourKammers. Sonnlein invariably slept between me and Brother Timotheus, thus being sheltered somewhat from the winds that even the thick forest could not entirely keep from us.
After some days' travel in this wise we finally came to the region between the Shark and Squan Rivers, where we found a little community of about fifteen adult members, Sabbatarians, who had migrated from Stonington, Connecticut, and Westerly, Rhode Island, and who had signed a covenant binding themselves to live and walk together as Christian people, although they had no church or pastor. A number of meetings were arranged in our honor, and at these I preached and admonished them to remain steadfast in their faith, so that I was gratified to note our efforts resulted in a church's being organized, Brother William Davis, the elder, although in his eighty-first year, being chosen pastor.
Leaving Shrewsbury, as this church is referred to in our records, we wended our way southward until we came to a place on the west shore of Barnegat Bay, almost directly opposite the outlet of this beautiful bay into the ocean. Here was anothersettlement of New England Sabbatarians, who were known as "Rogerines," a band of about twenty-one persons. They received us with open arms and we were most hospitably entertained by Brother John Culver—the most prominent among the Rogerines—who had made several visits to Amwell and to Ephrata and upon whose earnest invitation we had come to Barnegat. These good people looked upon us as holy men, so that they brought their sick to us in the hope that they might be healed by the very laying on of hands and prayer, as our Rogerine brethren used no medicines nor would they employ physicians, relying upon strictly scriptural means for relief from illness. While we agreed not on all doctrinal points, still in so much of our manner of life and belief we were in such perfect accord that our stay was exceedingly refreshing to our souls, and it was through these good people as much as anything else we extended our visit to New England, stopping on our way to visit one John Lovell, an old Pythagorean, who lived as a hermit in the dense woods about four miles from Burlington, throughout the seasons, without fire, in a cell made by the side of an old log, in the form of an oven, not high enough or long enough to stand upright in or lie extended.
I mean not to be harsh or unjust to this surly hermit, who lived more like a beast than man, butin his boyish straightness of speech Sonnlein spoke out full well what was in my mind and I doubt not in my brethren's also when he said, "Brother Lovell hath his soul from a pig or else would he not be so dirty," for we did not believe that our Lord any more than mortal man cared to look upon dirty, sour faces. We held that a contented mind showed itself in a bright, cheerful face, and thus it was our habit at Ephrata, with both Brother and Sister, always to be satisfied and to bear ever a glad countenance, even though the bitterness of death were upon us, and for this we have the Scriptures.
Oct. 10, 1744. I went to John Bolles to see 4 men Yt come from beyond Barnegat, with long beards 8 or 9 inches, and strangely clothed, no hats and all in white, but they were not there.—Extract from diary of Joshua Hempstead, of New London.
Oct. 10, 1744. I went to John Bolles to see 4 men Yt come from beyond Barnegat, with long beards 8 or 9 inches, and strangely clothed, no hats and all in white, but they were not there.—Extract from diary of Joshua Hempstead, of New London.
From the hermit's hut we proceeded to New Brunswick, and by good fortune found, as though especially waiting for us, a vessel about to sail for New England. Our journey thus far had been mainly among friends; but now, even though we had a letter of introduction from our Barnegat brethren to the Rogerines in New London, we could not with all our faith and fortitude repress the dismal forebodings of trials and persecutions we should encounter there on account of our beliefs—all except Sonnlein, to whom this pilgrimage was full of marvel and delight, and now that he was about togo out upon the sea his joy knew no bounds, for verily he was born under Pisces.
But having put our hands to the helm we would not look back, and Brother Onesimus having secured passage for us we set sail, and barring that our good prior was most wretchedly seasick all of the voyage, while Sonnlein was sick but the first day, when he would have neither food nor physic, we landed near New London in less than a fortnight, safe and sound, hundreds of miles from home, in a strange country, no friends, and so despised because of our white dress and our otherwise monkish aspect that whoever saw us fled as though we were the plague.
Fortunately, our letter rescued us from much annoyance, for a prominent member of the Rogerines, Brother Bolles, hearing of our arrival came to us and on reading our letter received us affectionately and harbored us so hospitably, not far from the town, that we soon forgot our forebodings. And yet no sooner did our coming become known in New London than did a new danger arise against us, for the very day we landed the little seaport was wild with excitement over the news that France had joined issue with Spain against England. This coincidence coupled with our unusual manner and garb was too weighty a proof to be disregarded that we were Jesuit priests, French spies in disguise. Forthwith officers presented themselves atthe quiet little homestead of our Brother Bolles, arrested us, and marched us into New London, and had all the threats hurled at us by the excited inhabitants while on our way to the justices been executed, we had been undone.
Happily our host, a respectable and influential citizen, personally vouched that we were Protestants by birth and profession, whereupon our freedom was at once given us, and we were once more taken in charge by the Rogerines of New London, by whom we were so held in kindness and esteem that whenever we stirred abroad we had in our train no less than fifty persons, among them black men—of whom Sonnlein was sore afraid, never having seen human beings of such color—and Indians, the former being servants, and for whose spiritual welfare their masters were as solicitous as of their own, which thing we much admired.
We found the people of this region in a state of great religious excitement, the Congregationalists and the New Lights being especially bitter against each other, so that wherever representatives of these beliefs came into each others' presence they did nothing but argue and dispute; and so far was this pernicious custom carried that when a Congregationalist met a New Light, unless both were deaf and dumb, they would seat themselves on chairs, while about these wordy knights of the gospel would gather the listeners, in a circle, disputantsand listeners often giving vent to the most violent passions, all of which greatly shocked my brethren and me, yet showing us that, the world over, men are much the same when it cometh to difference in belief.
At the time of our visit they mostly disputed about the perseverance of the saints, and if the saints were as persistent in meek obedience and loving deeds as were these wordy warriors in their vociferous arguments, I have not the slightest doubt but that the saints have received rich reward. However, my brethren and I did all in our power, in patience and long-suffering, to allay the bitterness of this unseemly strife that left no peace whatever in this and the neighboring towns; and I rejoice to say our presence and persuasions did much toward this desirable end, for in all their heat they could not but see we had no other motive than to speak the truth, fairly and impartially, and with due consideration for the views of the contestants.
We soon grew to love and esteem our good Rogerine brethren, and I feel we endeared ourselves to them. We had much in common; we like them were regarded by the world as a peculiar people. Even the tolerant laws of Penn were not always sufficient to save us from persecutions, just as our New England brethren, because they conformed not to the beliefs in power, suffered fines,imprisonments, and even the awful indignity of public whippings for His sake.
Unlike us they practised not celibacy, but they held firmly to the doctrine of non-resistance and that the reading of set public prayers and preaching for pay was utterly unscriptural. They agreed also with us in regard to keeping the seventh day instead of the first, the administration of the Lord's Supper, and baptism by immersion. But like their Rogerine brethren on Barnegat Bay it was contrary to their tenets to employ physicians or to use medicines in case of sickness, although for ordinary ailments some of the less extreme Rogerines used the customary remedies and were excellent nurses, being ever ready to minister to the sick.
Having thus so much in common it would seem there should have been no danger of any serious disagreement between us, and yet it tried my brother pilgrims and myself sorely to prevent open rupture by reason of our being unable to admit all our good friends claimed as to the scriptural manner of healing. Finally, upon mutual promises that if any one on either side should become angry the discussion should stop immediately, we took up the question of healing.
Thus spake theRogerine, calmly: "We base our beliefs on the teachings of the New Testament."
Brother Onesimus,similiter: "We also base our mode of life on the Bible."
Rogerine, still calmly: "The Almighty not only hath infinite power to cure diseases, but hath also blessed willingness so to do."
Brother Jephune, gently: "We admit the Almighty hath the power, but whether he hath the willingness we are not ready to say."
Rogerine, a trifle ungently: "The treatment the physicians give is bungling and dangerous and greatly uncertain. Were a dozen doctors to treat the same man that man would receive physic for twelve different diseases. Christ's cures were all perfect."
Brother Timotheus, graciously: "Truly should physicians be modest men, for theirs is a difficult art in that so many different diseases have similar symptoms. And yet we regard healing as an art, though imperfect as is all human art. Christ was perfect preacher as well as perfect healer, yet there be bungling preachers as there be bungling physicians."
Rogerine, positively: "Christ healed without physic and the disciples had his promise of such cures for all who asked in faith."
Brother Jabez, humbly: "Though Christ healed without physic, nevertheless he pointed to the use of natural means by the spittle on the blind man's eyes and washing in the pool of Siloam. Naaman bathed in the Jordan seven times. Is it not written we are created in his image? Doth that notmean that these wonderful bodies of ours and our surpassing marvelous minds were made to perform wonderful and marvelous things? Ye will also admit that not only did Christ heal the halt, the lame, and the blind, but that he also fed the five thousand with but a few loaves and fishes; Elijah was fed by the ravens; the widow's cruse of oil never failed. No doubt the Almighty hath power to heal us better than the physicians, who oft work in darkness, and to feed us better than the husbandmen, who are not always certain of their harvests."
Rogerine, indignantly: "Would ye ask of Him that while we sit here idle, with grain in the fields for bread, and abundance of fish in the sea for meat, we should expect him to feed us like idle, helpless children?"
Brother Jabez, smiling subtilely: "Why not? If with our God-like powers we do not search into the healing properties of the herbs of the fields and the salts of the earth, and try to heal ourselves, it seemeth to me we have just as much Scripture to sit still and let him feed us."
Rogerine, indignantly: "Brother, thy speech seemeth almost blasphemous. We hold our views from the Scriptures."
Brother Jabez, still mildly: "So do we; but it is with the Scriptures as in the law; he who sticketh to the letter loseth the true meaning. My belovedbrethren, for indeed ye are so to us, he who readeth not God's holy word in the Spirit cannot understand it and findeth therein many inconsistencies and grounds for unsafe doctrines. We too believe that faith can perform miracles, but the Almighty never intended we should nourish and heal our bodies by dependence on miracles, or else would not he have given us these miraculous bodies and minds."
Rogerine, quietly: "We thank thee, brother, but are not convinced we are in error. Let us not imperil our love by useless argument."
"So be it," I replied, and thus the discussion was safely ended.
But so great was the faith of one of our Rogerine brethren, we were told, that when the smallpox raged in Boston some twenty years before, he journeyed one hundred miles to the infected city to prove his faith would save him from the terrible contagion; for it had been his custom for over forty years of his life to minister to those sick of that disease. This time, however, he caught the distemper, which developed after his return home and brought him to his grave, as well as two other members of his family; and in this connection, to show how we poor mortals are prone to carry our beliefs and doctrines to most foolish lengths it was also told me, by the Rogerine brethren themselves, and not by their enemies, that a few years prior toour visit a certain skin disorder had broken out among the congregation; but as their faith forebade the use of medicines they knew not what to do. In this predicament a church meeting was called to deliberate how they might get rid of the disorder and yet preserve a clear conscience. After a most prolonged meeting and the profoundest deliberations in which holy writ was thoroughly searched for precedent, it was solemnly resolved that this most uncomfortable disease, which we were told was the itch, was not a bodily ailment; but was a noxious animal which had burrowed into their flesh. Of course, there being in their belief nothing to prevent the destruction of wild animals the usual remedies for this particular species were accordingly applied, whereupon the "itchy beasts" were duly slain and eradicated, and the consciences of our pious brethren preserved.
From New London we made an extended visit to our Sabbatarian brethren of the Newport and Old Hopkinton churches, in the province of Rhode Island. Here too, our appearance created much excitement but fortunately provoked no arrest. Our visit here, like all our visits, was a season of great refreshing for our souls, and it is my belief that we helped and strengthened our brethren as they did help and strengthen us.
Upon our return from Rhode Island to New London we were entertained by our good brotherEbenezer Bolles, one of the town's wealthiest merchants. At that time he lived a single life, being a blessed virtuous man. We tried to persuade him to remain in this most perfect and holy state, but shortly after we left he married. Many years afterward we heard at Ephrata with great sorrow that he had passed away; that a few days before his death, being then in good health, he had been cutting some vines of the poison variety, whereby he was poisoned, and his body swelled to a great degree. He would not allow a physician to be near him; nor would he receive the most simple medicines. Just before he expired, when in great pain, he seemed desirous of some help, but the Brethren and Sisters would not allow it, lest he deny the faith.
I confess I was exceedingly displeased with myself that on our visit to our Rogerine brethren I had not spoken more strongly against their pernicious doctrine of the utter reliance on their so-called scriptural healing, for I doubt not the physicians could have saved Brother Bolles, even though ivy poison yields not easily to herbs or salts.
When we made known to our Rogerine friends our determination to depart for Ephrata, they insisted on paying our passage to the city of New York, and when the day at last arrived in which we were to leave this "fruitful garden of God," as it is referred to in our records, our departure wasmade a gala day in their little seaport, into which we had made so unpropitious an entrance. A large concourse of persons, irrespective of denominations, including many souls converted by us during our stay, accompanied us to the wharf, and after pressing upon us numerous gifts—so that we returned home richer than when we left—wished us a loving God-speed.
As our vessel passed out into the sound, even though we were returning to our beloved Kloster, we could not wholly subdue our sadness at parting with these dear friends, who so long as we were in sight wafted their blessings to us. I think none of us even spake a word so long as we could discern our friends; but favorable winds soon swept us from their view, and then as we turned to each other again each of us, even Sonnlein, expressed his sorrow in a deep sigh.
With the exception that Brother Onesimus, who was but a poor waterman, was seasick again all the voyage, nothing worthy of note occurred until we set foot in the chiefest city of the province of New York, where our monastic garb again attracted much attention and suspicion, so that we were arrested as Jesuits from New Spain; and again a kind gentleman, a justice, knowing our circumstances, interceded so effectually we were promptly released, whereupon we shook the dust of that city from off our feet and immediatelystarted on our long journey for Ephrata, by way of Philadelphia, and it was not long when we were at New Brunswick again, whence we journeyed by foot to Trenton, where we crossed the Delaware and soon were in our own Philadelphia, among dear friends. Here we stopped for a few days with our Brother William Young, to rest before continuing our journey to Ephrata, which still lay ninety miles to the west, only that Sonnlein, with his ceaseless activity and insatiate boyish inquisitiveness, gave himself no rest whatever, but must be continually about this great city, especially at the wharves, where the incoming vessels, with their cargoes from all lands under the sun, were to him a perpetual wonder.
Our rest in this great, noisy, worldly city being at an end, for which I was not sorry, though our brother did all he could for our comfort and entertainment, we set out over the king's highway for Lancaster, whence we intended to reach Ephrata by way of the Reading road, for the season being now late we could not risk the less traveled ways, for even the best highways were now in a difficult condition. Sonnlein, however, being by this time such a veteran pilgrim, seemed not to mind what to our prior, and Brother Jephune particularly, was a most tiresome journey, our worthy sky-gazing brother floundering into every muddy bog in our way.
When we reached Lancaster we were, with all our endurance, so worn out we were necessitated to make another brief stop, but as soon as our bodies would obey our wills in any wise cheerfully, we started again for Ephrata, arriving weary and footsore within sight of Mount Sinai just as the sun was setting behind the hills. Falling on our knees we offered up to our Father our heartfelt thanks for our safe return, for indeed it was much to be thankful for that after our long wanderings we all had been brought back as safe and well, albeit a trifle weary and worn, as when we had started on our pilgrimage.
A little farther on we made a short stop with one of the house-fathers, as the brethren of our secular congregation were called, intending to time ourselves to arrive at Zion for the midnight devotions, once more to be enraptured by the strains of celestial music from the lips of our beloved brothers and sisters.
Our good house-father and his family were minded to make a great ado about our gaunt and haggard features, as though we had passed through great tribulations little less than martyrdom, all of which sympathy, though we liked not to confess it, was sweeter to our ears than even the voices of our choiring Brothers and Sisters, only I could not see how Sonnlein merited any great compassion, for the rogue, though he fared like the restof us, looked as ruddy and healthy as any of our good house-father's chubby, rosy children who swarmed about us inquiringly, not fearing us in the least, which thing pleased us greatly, for we did not like to be dreaded by the little ones.
When we thought it time to leave for the midnight services, our brother's little ones being long before with all their unquenched curiosity packed to bed, we started, as usual, in single file for the Kloster, Sonnlein lagging a few steps behind me.
We had almost reached the Kloster confines when, while our way was yet under the dark shadows of the overhanging trees that shut out the stars, I heard a scuffling noise behind me, and turning quickly saw Sonnlein in the grasp of some dark shape that was striving against all his squirming and fighting to drag him into the thick woods. Without a thought I hurled my pilgrim staff, with all my strength, lance-like into the bushes 'gainst the beast or being hanging over my boy, and then for a moment closed my eyes with an awful fear my staff might crush him; but it had hardly left my hand when a piercing cry of agony cleft the air, and then, retreating from us, came fainter and fainter a moaning and snarling as when some desperate beast receives a mortal wound.
We found Sonnlein lying limp and almost lifeless by the way, and as we gathered about him and one of us struck a light from our tinder box,I saw my boy's throat was scratched and torn and bleeding, but happily not profusely.
"'Twas such a devil's cry we heard when we saw the comet, dost remember?" whispered Brother Jephune hoarsely, for the matter had startled us greatly.
"What wast, Sonnlein?" I asked him now that he had come somewhat to his senses and was on his feet, for beyond the choking and fright he seemed not much hurt.
"'Twas some beast with great claws caught me by the throat so I could not cry for help," he replied all in a quiver.
"Well, it hath gone now; no doubt my staff struck it right fairly. Get on my back while I carry thee; we must make haste else shall we be late," said I, first marking the spot with my eyes where I had hurled my staff.
Great was the surprise of our dear brothers when we filed silently into theSaal, Sonnlein having come down from my back, for we arrived wholly unannounced. After the loving greetings were exchanged over and over, our superintendent ordered a general love feast in Peniel for the following Sabbath to celebrate our safe return and to listen to our report, we having kept an exact diary of our pilgrimage. A full account of the whole journey was written from this diary and the doings of each of us, except Sonnlein, which heminded not in the least, being too young for such older weakness. This account was then handed over to our superintendent and became the property of the Brotherhood.
After the events of this pilgrimage were over, we each resumed his usual work and devotions as calmly as though we had not been so long away, only that the day after we arrived I easily found the bushes into which I had with such unchristian violence hurled my staff. I found my traveling comrade lying full length in the depths of the wayside thicket. The iron point was reddish like as if with blood, but I could find no ghastly trail of blood leading away from the staff, but after close examination of the soft earth I did find what I believed were the prints of a woman's shoes, for I knew they were not those made by Sonnlein.
Could it be that our old enemy, the witch, had done this thing? Who or what was this baleful influence that hung over our sacred Kloster like some foul miasma? Did this being merely embody the evil that must ever be present in all earthly things? Whence came it? No matter how I turned it over and over in my mind I could not solve the mystery. So far, though our paths had frequently come close to the other, they had not yet crossed in direct conflict, and yet I felt, and even longed, that some day I should come face to face with the sphinx and either she or I bedestroyed. There had never seemed any disposition to seek direct injury to me, and yet of all our Brotherhood I apparently was chosen to witness most of her hellish manifestations. Why? I could not tell, for surely I knew not I had ever wittingly injured any one.
So weighted down was I by my unexplainable dread that for many a day I had little inclination for work or study or prayer. I could see too, that Sonnlein, though he and the rest knew naught but a wild beast had flown at him, was greatly impressed when I warned him he must not wander into the woods until he was older and abler to take care of himself against the beasts, which warning, it eased my mind much to observe, he heeded as well as a strong, healthy boy can heed anything.
For the Lord hath created a new thing in the earth, a woman shall compass a man.—Bible.
For the Lord hath created a new thing in the earth, a woman shall compass a man.
—Bible.
Many were the changes that came over our little community while my boy was growing into a man!
It was not long after the Solitary had united themselves at Ephrata that the Eckerlings conceived various enterprises whereby our cells should be filled with what to so many weak mortals is as precious as honey to the bees, namely, money.
In our early life our chief labor was the tilling of the soil, for which we had by reason of our scanty means and our own peculiar views the most primitive methods, so that we not only dragged the plow but even drew our carts, and oft when we traveled we resembled a caravan of camels, soheavily laden were we. I can still see when the plowing came to be done the whole Brotherhood trooping around the hill of Zion. Under the Eckerlings, however, we consented to the use of beasts of burden for our heavy work; but in reparation of what many of us considered an unjust use of these animals we treated them with exceeding kindness.
Our first industry under the Eckerlings was the building of a bakehouse, which we used not only for our own modest requirements but even in the interests of the poor settlers, no charge being made whatever for the bread or the baking.
Another movement looking toward our enrichment was the planting of a large orchard of over a thousand apple trees, as well as a row of fruit trees entirely surrounding the Kloster grounds. The Eckerlings also proposed to set out a vineyard on the hillside; but this met with such determined opposition the project was abandoned, for we feared it might lead to winebibbing among us, and this we could not have, as we permitted the use of fermented liquors only when actually necessary as physic.
Then came a small grist mill, the first to be put up in this region, which we purchased shortly after the death of Brother Agonius. The mill we entirely rebuilt in stone, increasing its capacity to three run, and day after day for a number of yearsthe splash, splash of the water wheel and the rumbling murmur of the mill stones were sweet music in the ears of the Eckerlings and their followers.
Soon after came a sawmill; and then what was, perhaps, more important to us, the paper mill, whereby we made not only all the paper for the printing of our various hymns and books and pamphlets, but also furnished much of the paper that was used at this period throughout the province, our Brother Christopher Sauer making frequent demands on us.
Within a few years an oil mill was put up, the stones of which were unlike any others in America. This oil, like our paper, was not only used in our printing, but was sent far and wide for the making of printer's ink. There were looms for weaving linen and cloth, and a mill where the homespun made in the community and by the neighbors was fulled and prepared for use; and as there was no end to the money-making projects of the Eckerlings, a tannery was erected, where both tanning and tawing were carried on, in the meadow a short distance west of where we later built the Brother House.
Then of necessity, as one evil deed ever requires its fellow, followed a mill for grinding the oak and hemlock bark. This leather, by such as were hostile to us, was called in derision "Jesuit leather," but the nickname did not in the leastinjure the quality of the leather or impair the demand for it, for—and I say it not boastfully—this leather, like our paper and cloth and flour and other products, was all of good, honest quality, and sought far and wide for its excellence.
The Brothers and Sisters thought more of how well they could do that which they were called upon to do than how much they were to receive for it. Thus they ennobled their work and gave dignity to their humble labors, all of which honesty of work and affection for it was expressed in the quality of the products; nothing slipshod, nothing half-finished in haste was permitted; nothing could go forth from our hands unless it was as sound and wholesome and perfect as our means and skill could make it—and surely there is nothing more honorable in man than to serve his Maker and his children by faithful, honest, affectionate toil.
To meet the demands of our various industries horses and wagons were procured, so that three teams were almost constantly kept upon the road. Agencies were established in Philadelphia and elsewhere for the purchase and sale of our different products, and material, and my records show that among such agents were well-to-do citizens of Philadelphia, as Johannus Wüster and Christopher Marshall, the former being the same gentleman who in later years honored us by plucking fromour little garden one of the most beautiful of the Roses of Saron, our dear Sister Anastasia.
But as we had a printing press we must needs have a book bindery, and in a short time we had the largest and best-equipped bindery in the colonies, and I must say in justice to the Eckerlings, that however I disagreed with them in many of their various enterprises, I always felt we owed them much for establishing the printing press and the bindery, for man without books is as a plant without light.
Even the Sisters were not forgotten, for in addition to the domestic duties that ever so fitly fall to the lot of woman, they were constantly engaged in spinning, besides assisting in the lighter work of the fields. Many of the Sisters acquired great skill in embroidery and in calligraphy; and hundreds of our hymns, composed by our superintendent, the Sisters, and the Brethren, were written in the beautiful style of the Sisterhood, so that even now after the lapse of almost half a century since our sisters—many of them now resting in their narrow graves along the roadside—placed their love and devotion for their Master in their humble tasks. We greatly prize our hymn books—the notes and letters and graceful decorations coming from our sisters' hands shining forth still in all the clearness and purity of their first writing.
In this wise matters went on until our Eckerlingsalmost proved our undoing, for it gradually became noised about that we were nothing more than merchants, tradespeople using our kloster life as a cloak to give us the appearance of honest, devout people, caring naught for gain; and there was much truth in what our printer at Germantown published, that in a short time the ringing and clinking, tinkling, clanking, and dangling at Zion, Ephrata, Kedar, Peniel, and Saron would equal Rome, Jerusalem, Nazareth, and Babylon.
The only remedy for this show and excessive love of money lay in the removal of the Eckerlings. This all the rest of the Solitary who loved a simple life knew must come sooner or later, and yet they dreaded the coming. Wherefore they groaned heavily in spirit under the bondage of the Eckerlings for seven long years. Then, and I have not space to relate how all this came about, were the Eckerlings dethroned, and their lording it over us brought to a certain end.
On a bright day in August the Solitary Brethren arranged in a circle about a heap of burning brush fed by most willing hands, we consigned to the glowing embers all the books and writings of Onesimus, among them being his polemic against the Moravians; and three days later the Sisterhood of Saron repeated a similar ceremony, upon which occasion two of his German broadsides and a pillar against the Moravians as well as his hymns were consumed by the fire. And to make sure naught of contamination remained with us, on the sixth day the brethren of the Secular Congregation gathered all the writings and mementos of Onesimus and committed them also to the flames.