Loe raamatut: «My First Mission»
Preface to the First Edition
The first chapter of this little work I wrote as a sketch for the perusal of the youthful readers of the Juvenile Instructor. It was written hastily – as were those which followed it – and without any author’s name, or any intention, at the time, of adding any more to it. Afterwards, I concluded to write a series of missionary sketches; but when these were written I did not have any intention of publishing them in their present form. They were penned in a plain, familiar and personal style, for the purpose of securing the interest of young people.
When a youth, it was my good fortune to live in the family of President John Taylor. It was my chief delight in those days, to listen to him and other Elders relate their experience as missionaries. Such conversations were very fascinating to me. They made a deep impression upon me. The days of which they spoke, were the days of poverty, when Elders traveled without purse and scrip, among strange people who were ignorant of our principles, and too many of whom were ready to mob and persecute. They traveled by faith, and were pioneers for the Lord in strange lands, and He was their only reliance. Their missions were rich in instances of His power exhibited in their behalf. What I heard strengthened my faith and increased the desire in my heart to be a missionary. No calling was so noble in my eyes as that of a standard-bearer of the gospel.
The thought which prompts me to publish My First Mission is that perhaps it may have the effect upon some of the youth of Zion that the recitals of faithful Elders had upon me. I hope that this will soon be followed by other little volumes of this, the Faith-Promoting Series. I have thought that the missionary spirit did not burn as brightly in some of our young men as it should – that they did not understand the value of human souls in the sight of the Lord and the precious rewards which He bestows upon those who seek, in the proper way, to save them. And yet there never was greater need of faithful men as missionaries than there is to-day. “The field is white already to harvest,” and there is no limit in the field to the opportunities of those who desire to labor.
If this little work shall have the effect to awaken and strengthen the missionary spirit, if the remembrance of its incidents, shall comfort the hearts and promote the faith of any when they go upon missions, the utmost desire will be gratified of
The Author
September 1879
Preface to the Second Edition
Two-and-a-half years have elapsed since the first edition of My First Mission was published. It was the first work of the kind issued, and the success of the venture, financially, was by no means certain at that time. It is not too much to say now, that our most sanguine expectations in commencing the publication of the Faith-Promoting Series have been more than realized. My First Mission soon became popular; the 6,000 copies of the first edition are all disposed of, and there is a demand for more. Four other volumes of the same series have also been issued, and received with equal favor; indeed, it seems that each volume issued creates a taste for another. We expect very soon to issue the sixth volume of the series and that will be followed by others as fast as our circumstances will permit. The good that has already been accomplished by these books, if we may accept the numerous testimonies we are constantly receiving, cannot be estimated; and yet we feel that the work in this direction has only just commenced. That it may continue until such works will abound in the midst of the Saints, and until the youth will be influenced by them to live lives of purity and perform deeds of righteousness, is the earnest desire of
The Publisher
March 1882
Chapter 1
Timidity When Attempting to Speak in Public – Determination to Persevere, Relying Upon God – Assuring Manifestation of the Presence of the Spirit of God
The writer will probably never forget his first attempts at speaking in public. While yet a youth he was ordained one of the Seventy Elders. The quorum of which he became a member was organized the day he was ordained, and he was chosen to be its clerk. At the meetings of the quorum it was the custom of those of the Presidents who were present to make a few remarks, and then the members were called upon to speak.
On such occasions he would get so nervous that he would have to stop writing some time before it came his turn to speak; and then, when he did get up, he scarcely knew what he said, his fright was so great.
He constantly suffered from this feeling of fear whenever he attempted to speak at quorum meetings, or testimony meetings, and in fact, for some time after starting on a preaching mission.
There was one resolve that he made in the beginning, which he always kept, and which he desires to impress upon every boy and girl in Zion.
He made up his mind that, whenever called upon, he would, with the help of the Lord, always ask a blessing, or pray, or speak, and not try to excuse himself.
No matter how many have been present, nor how awkward and frightened he has felt, he has always done what was requested of him. But how many times he has seen young men and women decline to speak and to pray when called upon! He has both pitied and felt ashamed for them.
Such persons acquire a habit of balking, and balky men and women are as bad in their places as balky horses are in theirs.
Many persons think that because they are bashful, and are not in the habit of asking a blessing or praying aloud that, therefore, they can excuse themselves when called upon to do so. But right-feeling people admire boys and girls, young men and young women, who have the courage and good manners to comply with a request of this kind, even if they should make awkward blunders, far more than they would if they refused to do so.
What is called bashfulness is frequently nothing more than pride. Those who are troubled with it are generally anxious to appear to advantage; they desire the approbation of their fellows; and the fear that they will say or do something that will not come up to the standard, oppresses them and makes them nervous.
The first time the writer was called upon to speak to a mixed congregation of Saints and inquirers he was in the company of nine Elders. There were only two or three of them who had ever spoken in public; but as he was the youngest of the party, and felt that he was but a boy, he thought they would all be called upon before him. To his surprise, however, the Elder who was presiding called first upon him.
True to his resolve, he arose and commenced. For two or three, or probably five minutes, he did pretty well. Then he got confused, his ideas were in a jumble, and he forgot all he ever knew. If the bottom had dropped out of his memory, it could not have been worse. He sat down, feeling a little ashamed; but not discouraged. He was on a mission, and he was determined not to back down and fail. But it is very mortifying to get up to speak and then break down.
After this, he took a three weeks’ voyage to the country to which he was appointed on a mission. After landing, he attended a public meeting of strangers who had never heard the gospel. It was held in a Seamen’s Bethel, the minister having kindly offered it to the Elders for their meeting. One of the Elders spoke on the first principles; the writer followed him and bore testimony and made some other remarks. He was much frightened and embarrassed; but he spoke at greater length than he did before.
After this, circumstances required him to go out among the people alone. In that country, where they had no bells to ring, they called the people together by blowing a conch shell. When skillfully blown, one of these can be heard at a long distance. As the hour approached for meeting, it was customary to commence blowing the shell, and then our young missionary would be seized with trembling. The feeling of dread was terrible. He had been in places of peril where life was in danger; but he never felt as he did about preaching. He was alone and a stranger, and among a strange people. But he would not shrink. He knew that the gospel was true, that he had the authority to preach it, that the people had to be warned, and, therefore, with all his fear, he could not hold his tongue. He felt like Paul did when he said to the Corinthians: “Woe is unto me if I preach not the gospel.”
About six weeks after he commenced his ministry alone two messengers arrived from a distant town to invite him to come there and preach. They had heard about the doctrine he taught, and the people he had baptized, and they wanted to learn more about the principles. He returned with the messengers. A large meeting house was obtained in which to preach. It was crowded, for the people had never before had the privilege of hearing a sermon delivered by a Latter-day Saint. You can imagine how he felt. Here was a people anxious to hear, and yet how weak he was, and how full of fear and trembling! When he arose to give out the hymn the sound of his voice in that large building scared him. Then he prayed, and afterwards gave out another hymn. He had called mightily upon God for help. When he commenced to speak the Spirit of the Lord rested upon him as it never had done before. The people had faith, and their hearts were prepared to receive the truth. For upwards of an hour he spoke, and he was so carried away in the Spirit, that he was like a man in a trance. Joy filled his heart and the hearts of the people. They wept like children, and that day was the beginning of a good work in that place.
I shall not attempt to describe to you the gladness that our young missionary felt. He had been a slave; but now he was free. God had broken the bands of fear, and he felt to glorify Him for His goodness. From that day to this he has never suffered from those dreadful feelings which oppressed him. Still, there are but few public speakers, especially in this Church, who do not have a nervous feeling when they first arise to speak; and it is frequently the case that when they feel the most nervous they are enabled to speak with the greatest power. They feel their own weakness, and they seek unto God for help.
Many of the readers of this may yet be sent on missions, and a recollection of this sketch may help them to persevere. Never decline to ask a blessing, to pray or to speak when called upon, and God will help you to overcome all feelings of fear.
Chapter 2
From San Francisco to Honolulu – Storm and Sea-sickness
In early days in California everything was valued at a high price. There were ten of us, Elders, who wanted to get passage from San Francisco to Honolulu, the principal town on the Sandwich Islands. After trying for some days we succeeded in obtaining a passage between decks on the good ship Imaum of Muscat, Captain Ritches, commander. We had to find our own bedding; but the captain agreed to furnish us food, which we were told was to be the same as they had in the cabin.
Either this part of the contract was not fulfilled, or they lived poorly in the cabin; for our fare was not very inviting. But we thought we were fortunate in not having to pay more than $40 in gold for the passage and these privileges.
I have seen places that were more comfortable than our quarters between decks. I have been on the sea many times since, and I believe, if I had my choice, I would take a trip as a cabin passenger on a Cunard steamship in preference to a voyage on the Imaum of Muscat, with its cabin fare and the privilege of sleeping in my own blankets.
The Imaum was low between decks, and then it was so dark there, that for a few minutes after descending, we could see nothing. We had had some rough experience, however, since leaving our homes, and we were not disposed to find fault with our ship or her accommodations.
For one week after embarking we lay in the bay of San Francisco, head winds preventing our sailing. This was tiresome to us, and did not suit the captain, for he had to feed us, at least a part of the time. Probably this week’s delay helped him to conclude that cabin fare was too good for us. As soon as the wind became at all favorable, the pilot thought it best to get ready for sea, and when the tide turned to go out, about one o’clock in the afternoon, we hoisted sail and started.
My recollections of passing out of the Golden Gate, as the mouth of San Francisco harbor is called, are not very pleasant. We had to beat out, that is, tack from side to side, and the swell came in from the ocean in large, heavy, rolling waves. On each side we could see a long line of breakers running seaward, the foam looking in the distance like large banks of snow.
We had not passed through the Gate when we began to be sea-sick. Those ocean swells will produce sea-sickness very quickly. There was no place on deck to be sick without being in the way, so we ran below. I vomited freely and felt relieved, and then went on deck again. The sun was declining in the west, and the sky was angry-looking and threatening, giving every indication of a storm. We were outside the heads, and before us stretched the great Pacific; but there were islands around, of which the captain knew but little. He did not like the idea of the pilot leaving him in such a position with darkness approaching and every prospect of a storm.
If the captain was anxious to have the pilot remain, the latter was equally desirous of getting away from the ship before nightfall. He had no wish to remain through the storm and to run the risk of being carried out to sea; so when a pilot boat hove in sight, he hailed it, and descended into the little yawl which came from it for him in such haste that he forgot his water-proof coat.
It was very natural, I suppose, for him after piloting the ship out of the harbor, to be eager to get back before the storm broke upon us; but I believe we all should have felt better if he had remained with us.
The captain, especially, felt the responsibility of his position. Here he was outside of a strange harbor, on a dangerous coast, with a strong wind blowing directly on shore, and darkness upon him and he ignorant of his surroundings!
We had no time to indulge in many reflections upon the subject. Our time was occupied in another direction, for we were all suffering severely from the effects of sea-sickness; and notwithstanding the dangers of our situation, the sense of the ridiculous, in my case – only one bucket among us for every purpose – overcame fear, and I could not help laughing.
Many of our Elders and foreign settlers have been in a similar position, and all such can imagine our feelings better than I can describe them. My levity, however, under circumstances so inconvenient and perplexing, offended one of the Elders so much that he reprimanded me for it.
While we were thus engaged, the noise on deck was very great. The captain had as first mate a half-caste East Indian, and the most of his hands were Malays. His orders to the mate, and the latter’s cries to the hands, and their chattering to one another, made a clamor that sounded loud above the noise of the storm.
Right in the midst of our sickness we heard the startling cry from the mate of “breakers ahead,” and that we were close upon them. At any other time this would have excited us; but we were so sick we did not mind it.
Shortly after this, we felt the vessel strike something solid, and she trembled from stem to stem; this was directly followed by a grating sound and a thumping at the stern. The first thought was that she had struck a reef; but as we felt her settle in the trough of the sea, we knew that if she had struck, she had passed over it.
The shock that we felt was caused by a heavy breaker striking us; it had broken the wheel ropes, and the grating noise that we heard was the thumping of the helm. Had the breaker gone over us it would have swept the decks clean, or, had the wheel ropes broken a short time before, it is probable the vessel would have been lost.
In considering our narrow escape, afterwards, we felt to give the glory of our deliverance to God. We were His servants, and on His business, and He had preserved us.
That night was one of great anxiety to the captain, officers and crew. Notwithstanding our sickness, we also realized that we were in a critical position, and exerted all the faith we could.
The captain had his wife with him, and so little hope did he have at one time of saving the vessel, that he told her to prepare for eternity, for he did not think we would ever see daylight in this world again.
At last the morning dawned, the storm died away, and we were enabled to take our course.
Oh, the blessed daylight! How joyfully it was hailed on board that vessel! It did not relieve us from our sea-sickness, but it did from our peril.
Several days elapsed before the captain recovered from his fatigue and hoarseness, caused by shouting his orders that night.
The Imaum of Muscat was bound for the East Indies, but was to touch at the Sandwich Islands. We were glad that we had to go no farther, so it was with positive delight that we learned after being nearly four weeks on board, that we would soon be at the end of our voyage.
The sight of land is most welcome to those who have been weeks at sea, especially if they have suffered from sea-sickness. To our eyes, therefore, the rough, mountainous isles of the Hawaiian group were very beautiful. We longed to tread upon them.
For myself, I was scarcely intended for a sailor. I am very easily made sick by the motion of a vessel on the water, and no amount of going to sea prevents this. Some years since, while crossing the Atlantic, I lay sea-sick in my berth, and to divert my mind, I tried to recall the number of different times I had been in that condition. I counted upwards of fifty distinct occasions that I had suffered from this sensation, and I have been sea-sick a number of times since.
During the night we passed the island of Hawaii, the largest of the group, and the one on which Captain Cook, the first white man (so far as known) who discovered these islands, was killed.
The next morning the island of Maui was seen in the distance. Then Molokai and Lanai; and the morning following, when we arose, we were sailing alongside of Oahu, the island on which the town of Honolulu, the capital of the kingdom, is situated.