"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.
Jaffa, October20, 1841
DEAR BROTHER PRATT,
Yesterday I arrived in this place from Beyrout, and just as I was about to start from the American consul's in this place to Jerusalem, at a most enormous price, a company of English gentlemen rode in from Jerusalem with many servants all armed, and they were to return immediately to Jerusalem, and I can go for little or nothing comparatively speaking.
I have only time to say a few words; but through the favour of heaven I am well and in good spirits, and expect, in a day or two, to see Jerusalem.
My journey has been long and tedious, and consequently expensive. If I get back to England with money enough to buy my dinner, I shall think myself well off.
The country is in a terrible state. While I was at Beyrout, a terrible battle was fought in Mount Lebanon, about six hours' walk from Beyrout, between the Drewzes and Catholics. It was said that about four hundred were killed on each side. An English officer, returning from St. Jean d'Acre to Beyrout, was taken by the Drewzes, and would have been killed had not the Pacha come to his rescue.
He said that he found ten human bodies in the street on his way without heads. Thefts, murders, and robberies are taking place almost continually. The American missionaries in Beyrout and Mount Lebanon have had notice from the Grand Sultan, through our minister at Constantinople, Commodore Porter, to leave the country, and a prospect that all the missionaries in Syria will have to leave. This is only conjecture, however. But in this, if it do take place, I can see plainly the hand of Providence. The fact is, this land belongs to the Jews; and the present fermentation thereof shows to me that it is fast working back into the hands of its rightful heirs. God will, in due time, drive out the Canaanites, so that no more a Canaanite shall be found in the land, or in the house of the Lord.
I find that almost an universal anxiety prevails respecting the return of the Jews. The waters are troubled because the Angel has descended. My heart leaps for joy at the prospect of seeing that land, and there fulfilling my mission.
When we left Smyrna for Beyrout, we only took in stores for one week, thinking that would surely be sufficient, as the voyage is usually made in four days; but we were nineteen days on the passage. A number of days I eat snails gathered from the rocks, but the greatest difficulty was, I could not get enough of them. I was so weak and exhausted that I could not go on shore after the slight exertion of drawing on my boots. But that is past; I am now strong and well, and have plenty to eat. I now have nothing but land pirates, in the shape of Arabs, to encounter. An Englishman seems like a brother, let his religion be what it may. Yet I am very partial to the fulness of the gospel; for in it I have great joy.
The servants are now waiting for me, and I must gird on my arms and be off. Yet one thing I will notice, which is this: On my passage from Beyrout to this place, the night before last, at one o'clock, as I was meditating on the deck of the vessel, as she was beating down against a sultry schroke wind, a very bright glittering sword appeared in the heavens, about two yards in length, with a beautiful hilt, as plain and complete as any cut you ever saw. And, what is still more remarkable, an arm, with a perfect hand, stretched itself out and took hold on the hilt of the sword. The appearance really made my hair rise, and the flesh, as it were, to crawl on my bones. The Arabs made a wonderful outcry at the sight; O, Allah, Allah, Allah![A]was their exclamation all over the vessel.
[Footnote A: Lord, Lord, Lord!]
I mention this because you know there is a commandment to me which says, "Unto you it shall be given to know the signs of the times, and the sign of the coming of the son of man."
May the Lord bless you all in England and in America. And I pray that he will bless my wife, and my dear little children; God knows that I want to see them—yea, and all the saints.
I have many particulars that I would like to write, but time will not allow at this time. You will hear from me again by the first opportunity, if the Arabs don't kill me. There is no post here; letters are sent by private conveyance, through friends, &c. God bless you and the cause of Zion is my last prayer.
My love to brothers Snow and Adams, and all the brothers and sisters in the communion: pray for me.
Yours, in great haste,
ORSON HYDE.
BY MRS. TINSLEY.
(From the Monthly Chronicle for April.)
A sound hath pass'd through the nations, heardBy the heart alone, when its depths are stirr'd;Mightier than that of storm-lifted seas,Than the tempest's rush amid forrest trees;Mightier than sorrow's earth-born cry,Than the shout of kings to victory;And still, where its tale hath gone,A voice to the breeze is cast,"On to Jerusalem, brothers, on!We have gain'd our home at last!"Lift up thine head, O Israel! yetFrom the depths of the darkness round thee set;Rejoice, for the chosen of the LordHave listened once more to His living word;Calling them forth from the nations around,To the hallow'd rest of their father's ground:And still, as the goal is won,Let the thrilling shout be past,On to Jerusalem, brothers, on!We have gain'd our home at last!"Was the scoffer strong in the days of old,Fenced by his idols of dust-won gold,Mocking their hope, while his footsteps trodWith the prophet-gather'd hosts of God?Heed him not now in the times that be,For ours is no common destiny;But, with true armour, wonFrom the stores of the mighty past,On to Jerusalem, boldly on!We have gain'd our home at last!"Did the desert of old yield its gushing wave,For the pilgrim-fathers their thirst to lave?Did the vision of God before them stand,Guiding their steps to the promis'd land?And shall we, their children, all forgetThat this mighty arm is our refuge yet?No! by the hope whereonWe have lean'd through the stormy past!On to Jerusalem, brothers, on!We have gain'd our home at last!"There flow the waters that flow'd of yore,Washing no trace from the hallow'd shore;There rise the hills where our fathers bow'dWhen the voice of God shook the riven cloud;And the boughs of the stately cedar thrillWith that holy breath, for it stirs them still:And we, are we call'd uponBy a voice to the desert cast?On to Jerusalem, Israel, on!We have gain'd our home at last!"
A sound hath pass'd through the nations, heardBy the heart alone, when its depths are stirr'd;Mightier than that of storm-lifted seas,Than the tempest's rush amid forrest trees;Mightier than sorrow's earth-born cry,Than the shout of kings to victory;And still, where its tale hath gone,A voice to the breeze is cast,"On to Jerusalem, brothers, on!We have gain'd our home at last!
"Lift up thine head, O Israel! yetFrom the depths of the darkness round thee set;Rejoice, for the chosen of the LordHave listened once more to His living word;Calling them forth from the nations around,To the hallow'd rest of their father's ground:And still, as the goal is won,Let the thrilling shout be past,On to Jerusalem, brothers, on!We have gain'd our home at last!
"Was the scoffer strong in the days of old,Fenced by his idols of dust-won gold,Mocking their hope, while his footsteps trodWith the prophet-gather'd hosts of God?Heed him not now in the times that be,For ours is no common destiny;But, with true armour, wonFrom the stores of the mighty past,On to Jerusalem, boldly on!We have gain'd our home at last!
"Did the desert of old yield its gushing wave,For the pilgrim-fathers their thirst to lave?Did the vision of God before them stand,Guiding their steps to the promis'd land?And shall we, their children, all forgetThat this mighty arm is our refuge yet?No! by the hope whereonWe have lean'd through the stormy past!On to Jerusalem, brothers, on!We have gain'd our home at last!
"There flow the waters that flow'd of yore,Washing no trace from the hallow'd shore;There rise the hills where our fathers bow'dWhen the voice of God shook the riven cloud;And the boughs of the stately cedar thrillWith that holy breath, for it stirs them still:And we, are we call'd uponBy a voice to the desert cast?On to Jerusalem, Israel, on!We have gain'd our home at last!"
Liverpool: James and Woodburn, Printers, 14, Hanover Street.
Some obvious printer's errors (e.g. 'injuction' for 'injunction') have been corrected as seemed reasonable. Some unusual spellings (e.g. 'radience,' 'Bethsda') and inconsistent quotation marks in the original have been maintained.