When Doctor Richards left Carthage with the bodies of the prophets to convey them to Nauvoo, Elder Taylor suggested that he had better take his purse and watch as he feared the people might steal them. At this suggestion the doctor put the purse and watch into one of the owner's pantaloon pockets, then cutting it off tied a string around the top. It was thus returned to him after he reached Nauvoo. On opening the pocket it was found that the crystal to the watch was literally smashed to powder by the ball that had struck it at the time he had felt himself falling from the jail window. Up to that time, however, his being thrown back into the room when he felt himself falling out had been a mystery; but now it was all clear to him. Had he fallen on the outside he would have dropped into the very midst of his enemies and would have been instantly dispatched; but the bullet aimed at his heart was turned by an over-ruling Providence into a messenger of mercy--it saved his life. "I shall never forget the feelings of gratitude that I then experienced towards my Heavenly Father," he writes in speaking of the discovery of how his life was saved; "the whole scene was vividly portrayed before me, and my heart melted before the Lord. I felt that the Lord had preserved me by a special act of mercy; that my time had not yet come, and that I had still a work to perform upon the earth." The hands of the watch stood at five o'clock, sixteen minutes, and twenty-six seconds, thus marking the moment when its possessor stood between time and eternity. The trying ordeal through which he had passed with the martyrs, his devotion and faithfulness to them in those fearful scenes in the jail, his undaunted courage, the cruel wounds he himself had received, and the patience with which he endured his suffering--all bound Elder Taylor in still stronger bands of affection to the Saints in Nauvoo and throughout the world. Shortly after his return to Nauvoo, Eliza R. Snow addressed the following lines to him: Thou chieftain of Zion, henceforward thy name Will be classed with the martyrs, and share in their fame; Thro' ages eternal, of thee 'twill be said, With the greatest of prophets he suffered and bled. When the shafts of injustice were pointed at him, When the cup of his suff'ring was fill'd to the brim, When his innocent blood was inhumanly shed, You shar'd his afflictions and with him you bled. When around you like hailstones, the rifle balls flew, When the passage of death opened wide to your view, When the prophet's free'd spirit thro' martyrdom fled, In your gore you lay welt'ring--with martyrs you bled. All the scars from your wounds, like the trophies of yore, Shall be ensigns of HONOR, till you are no more; And by all generations of thee shall be said, With the best of the prophets, in prison, he bled. Footnotes 1. Following is a copy of it: CARTHAGE JAIL, 8 o'clock 5 min. p. m., June 27, 1844.