Woman and Her Saviour in Persia / By a Returned Missionary

by Thomas Laurie

LABORERS IN THE MOUNTAINS.

LETTER OF BADAL.—ACCOUNT OF HANNAH.—THE PIT.—'LETTER OF GULY AND YOHANAN.—ACCOUNT OF SARAH.—LETTERS OF OSHANA.—LETTERS AND JOURNAL OF SARAH.—LETTER FKOM AMADIA.—CONFERENCE OF NATIVE HELPERS.

Besides these, the Seminary has sent up other laborers into the same field. At the monthly concert in Oroomiah, June, 1858, there were present four graduates, with their husbands, either going there for the first time, or returning to resume their labors. Guly, the wife of Yohanan, who had already spent one year in little Jeloo, was now about to return there with her husband. Nargis, the wife of Khamis, who had spent the winter laboring alone in the vicinity of Amadia, on the Turkish side of the mountains, was now with him, going back to Gawar. Hannah, the wife of Badal, who had sent her husband, three days after marriage, to his winter's campaign in the same region, was now accompanying him to the chosen field of his labors; and Eneya, the wife of Shlemon, his associate, was also expecting to leave in a few days.

By the way of introducing the reader to one of these laborers, we subjoin a letter from Badal to Miss Fiske, dated December 12th, 1859. It is a good specimen of Oriental style.

"Writing to you brings to mind many sweet conversations with you. Dwelling on them, my mind is sad. My sighs rise like the swelling stream, and almost carry me away, especially when I look at your garden, where you labored with so much skill to graft in these wild olive plants, cutting off your sleep with watchings by night, that they should not be rooted up by the desert wind. Thus you watched them, till they became as noble forest trees that not even the avalanche can overturn. Your garden, now, not only gives a shade pleasant to the traveller, but it yields sweet fruits; clouds rise from it that give us the early and the latter rain; they empty themselves,—the plain rejoices, and the barren places become verdant. Yes, the vine that you planted has budded, and blossomed, and gives of its fruit to every passer by. Come to us, our beloved, open the door of your garden, that the traveller may enter in and be refreshed. You have left many pleasant remembrances in the work of your hands. On every side you have left a picture for our eyes, and the skilful work of your hands (his wife), lo, and behold! it is with me. I cannot be silent. My voice shall be heard as the turtle's; 'Behold, your feet are within my doors, and your counsels are ever in my family.' The Lord reward you for these pupils, that you have taught to be patient and persevering, so that they truly help us in the work of life.

"Beloved, give my love to your friends, and ask them, when they go up to Shiloh to offer sacrifice, to place me in the censer of their prayers.

"We are troubled that as yet we know not the Lord's thoughts concerning you,—whether he will allow you to meet your flock again, or says to you as to Daniel, 'Thou shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the end of the days.' Like Moses, you are gathered to your fathers; but Miss Rice stands like Joshua, commanding the sun not to go down till the sword of the gospel shall triumph. We thank the Lord that she is still a judge in Israel, so that as yet the sceptre has not departed from Judah.

"Your affectionate friend, BADAL."

There are some things about Hannah, and the work of divine grace in her, that demand grateful record.

She was the daughter of one of the most intelligent and wealthy Nestorians, who placed her in the Seminary as early as 1845. She was then quite small, and the teacher objected very much to taking her; but paternal importunity prevailed. As soon as her father turned to go, she began to scream; but he left, saying she must remain, and "learn wisdom." The kind teacher took her in her lap to soothe her; but it was of no use; her bleeding hands bore the marks of the nails of her new protegée for weeks. She called for her father, but he was intentionally out of hearing.

The child remained, but learned wisdom very slowly. She had her fits of rage so often, that she was sent home sometimes for weeks, and again for months. She made little progress, either in study or other good, till the winter of 1850, when she seemed to begin to love the truth; yet, though her general deportment was correct, she often showed such a determined will, that her instructors feared she had never said from the heart, "Not my will, but thine," and often told her that, if she was a Christian, God would, in love, subdue that will. She could not feel her need of this, and thought that they required too much of her. So they were obliged to leave her with God, and he cared for her in an unusual way. The mission premises had formerly been occupied by an Oriental bath; and here and there were old pits, once used for carrying off the water, but now covered up, so that no one knew where they were. One evening Miss Fiske called the girls together, and told them some things she wished they would refrain from. They promised compliance, and went out; but hardly had they gone before their teacher heard the cry, "Hannah is in the well!" She ran there, but all was right. Then they led her to an opening just before the back door, saying, "The earth opened and swallowed her up." The covering of one of the pits had given way, and she had fallen perhaps twenty feet below the surface. Fortunately, as in the case of Joseph, there was no water in the pit, and in a few days she was able to resume her place in school, but much more gentle and subdued than ever before. The change was marked by all. Months after, in a private interview with her teacher, she gave an account of the whole matter. She said the girls went out, most of them saying, "We will obey our teachers;" but she, stamping her foot, said, "I did right before, and I shall do so again." With these words on her lips, she sunk into the earth. At first she did not know what had happened, but remembered all that had been said, and felt that God was dealing with her. Lying there helpless and bruised at the bottom of the pit, she made a solemn vow to God, "Never again my will." From that time she was a most lovely example of all that was gentle. She seemed to give up every thing, and "bear all things." Her father saw the change, and one day said to her teachers, "I am not a Christian; but Hannah knows nothing but God's will. If she should die now, I should know she was with Christ, she is so like him." Her Christian character developed beautifully; the school learned of her to be Christ-like. She longed to do good, and was ready to make any sacrifice for the good of souls. When Badal sought her hand from her father, the latter called her, and said, "Hannah, Badal the son of the herdsman, wants you to go to the mountains with him, and wants you to live here with him. It shall be as you say." She replied very meekly, "I wish to suffer with the people of God. I choose to go with Badal;" and June 8th, 1858, she left for her mountain home.

The parting prayer meeting with those four girls, going as missionaries to the mountains, was one of the pleasantest memories that Miss Fiske carried away from Oroomiah. She left soon after, but often heard from Hannah and her companions that she was happy in her life of privation for Jesus' sake, and did what she could. She suffered, however, from the change, and was advised to visit Oroomiah for her health. It was hoped she might soon recover; but she went only to leave her sweet testimony to the blessedness of knowing no will but God's, and then go home. She sent the following messages to Miss Fiske from her dying bed: "I love to have God do just as he pleases. I thank you for all your love, and especially for showing me my Saviour." She died in December, 1860.

Having given herself to Missionary work among the mountains, it is interesting to know that her little property also went to the same object. In the remarkable revival of benevolence, in Oroomiah, in the spring of 1861, her brother gave her inheritance, which had fallen to him, to sustain laborers in the mountains: thus, after her life had been laid down in the work, all her living went to carry it on.

Let Guly introduce herself to the reader by giving her own account of her conversion, in 1856:—

MY DEAR SUPERINTENDENT, MISS FISKE: I wish now, as far as I can, to describe to you my spiritual state. The first four weeks of the revival I did not realize that I was lost, but afterwards was more burdened; my sins were round about me like dark clouds. One night I went to Miss Rice to have her pray with me. I did not know how to find Christ. She told me; yet all that night I saw no light, but only darkness. I was almost in despair, yet felt that this was from Satan. In the morning the sun rose pleasantly, but it was as night to me; for I knew that I had no portion in God. So I continued all that day. I could not read in my class, but went to my room, and vowed not to leave it till I had some token that Christ was mine. I brought nothing in my hands save my sins, which were like mountains. I remembered that scripture, "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;" and I recalled the promises of God, and that no other could pardon me. With earnest longing, I laid my soul into the hands of Jesus. I heartily covenanted to serve him all my life, and sought help from him in prayer. Then suddenly I saw light, as if he were at my side; and I did not wish to rise from my knees, so blessed was that communion. From that time I had hope, but sometimes fear I may be deceived. Yet daily I find Christ more and more precious. Though old Adam is not dead, yet in the strength of God I will resist him.

Yes, my dear mother in Christ, my guide to the cross, my desire is to please God, and live for him, not for myself. I cannot say that I shall never sin, for I am weak, and my foe is strong; but I will seek help from Him who was tempted, and can succor me when tempted.

I am most thankful to you that you have been the means of my salvation, and can never forget your love till my tongue is silent in the grave.

Your affectionate GULY, of Seir.

She and her husband, Yohanan, have labored in the mountains ever since their marriage. He writes to Miss Fiske in February, 1861,—

"I have not forgotten your pleasant love, and trust I never shall until
I die. I hope that, with all your friends here, I shall see you again.
As our joy is not full in your absence, may you not rest till you
return.

"We are now in Vizierawa of Gawar; for the people of Ishtazin, instigated by Mar Shimon, have cast us out. I had hoped to go to Amadia, but was robbed and wounded, in the autumn, by the Koords; and before I could recover my goods, it was too late to go so far. So I remain here; and, thanks to God, our labor in the gospel is more pleasant than ever. Some of the men wish to hear the whole will of God; and women and girls come to Guly to hear his words. A few children also are constant in learning to read. The work of God prospers this year in Gawar, and the laborers are more numerous and more faithful."

In estimating the zeal and self-denial of these Nestorian missionaries, it should be borne in mind that our missionaries there, think it requires as much self-denial for a native of Oroomiah to go to the mountains, as for an American to go to Oroomiah; and according to the testimony of a native observer, the married graduates of the Seminary, in the mountains, are centres of light in that great sea of darkness.

Besides those already mentioned, Oshana and Sarah, with Shlemon and Eneya, are laboring in Amadia. This Sarah is daughter of Priest Abraham, of Geog Tapa, and was one of the earliest pupils of the Seminary. When Deacon Isaac broke it up, in 1844, she was the only pupil who remained. She was hopefully converted in 1846, and while in the Seminary was supported by the Sabbath school in Owego, New York.

In 1849, it was proposed that her father labor in Ardishai, one of the darkest and most wicked villages of the plain, as one might expect the home of the notorious Mar Gabriel would be. Great opposition was made by the people to his coming among them; and his own wife—not then converted—did much to hinder his going; but Sarah did all in her power to encourage him; and a letter of hers on the subject decided him to go. She rejoiced to give up her friends, her pleasant home, and even her privileges, that he might labor in that unpromising field. Nor was she by any means idle. She spent all her vacations there, laboring with much acceptance and success; and after she graduated, in 1850, besides her day school through the week, she had a Bible class on the Sabbath, with the women; and on Friday, also, she sent out her pupils, in the afternoon, to invite their mothers and other women to a meeting she held with them in the evening. She thus acquired great influence, and led several to the Saviour. Her labors were very systematic. She had a plan for conversing personally with one pupil each day, and was noted for her tact and success in efforts with individuals. Others might act from impulse, and soon tire; but hers is an activity controlled by principle, and therefore uniform and enduring. Very faithful in admonition when admonition is required, she is at the same time noted for gentleness, and thus expresses to Miss Fiske her delight in laboring for Christ: "Separated from Christian friends, I am sometimes sad; but I am not greater than my Master, who left the holy society of heaven to come to earth, and I am glad for a corner where I may labor for such a Master. Come and spend a Sabbath here if you can; if not, pray much and often for these poor women." Again speaking of her school, she says, "It is the goodness of God that gives me these little girls. Pray for them. I see indications that they will be lovers of the Lord. Forty or fifty of the women come to meeting, and twenty-two are willing to receive the truth." She was accustomed to study the Bible with her father, and in that way also aided him in his labors.

But it is time to bring forward her husband, in letters which open up a new department of usefulness, and illustrate the meaning of Mar Yohanan, when he brought her first pupils to Miss Fiske, and said, "No man take them from you." The truth was, that the same parents, who at first could not trust their daughters in the Seminary for a single night, were now unwilling that they should be united to a husband who did not commend himself to its teachers as a suitable companion for their pupils. But let Oshana speak:—

HONORED LADY, MISS FISKE: I have a petition to lay before your zeal, which is active in doing good to all poor insignificant ones like me. Dear lady, whose love is like the waters of the Nile, and spreads more than they; for it reaches the sons of the mountains of Kurdistan, as well as those of the plain. I am venturing to trouble you more than ever before. This summer, when I went to my country (Tehoma), my mother and uncles, who greatly love me, with a natural love, beset me to marry one of the daughters of my country, whomsoever I should please; but I made known to them that I wished, if possible, to take one of the pupils of your school, for I said to them, "If I take one of these who are so wicked, ignorant, immodest, and disorderly, they will embitter my life;"' I entreated of them not to put this yoke of iron on my neck. They listened a little to my petition, from the mercy of God, but made me promise that if it should reach my hand, I would marry this winter. The girl on whom I have placed my eye, to take her, is Sarah; because she has the "fear of God, which is the beginning of wisdom," and she has been brought up in all the graces of Christianity, and has well learned the holy doctrines; and in the fear of God, and the knowledge she has acquired, she can help me, and strengthen me, in the work of God, on which I have placed my heart for life.

And now, to whom shall I look to help me in this matter? I will look to God, the Lord of heaven and earth. But he works by instruments. Then to whom shall I look, as the instrument to do this work? I am a stranger, poor, and without a name here. My relatives are far away. If I have friends in Oroomiah, they cannot do this kindness for me. If I remain silent, silence alone shall I see. Now, my lady, I look to you for help; and with confidence shall I do so more than I should to my parents; for you have guided me and my sister better than any Nestorians have guided their children. Yes, by your hand God will supply my need. Now do as you think proper. From your unworthy

OSHANA.

P.S. The other letter (enclosed) is for Sarah, and on this subject.

Some time after he was engaged to her, she was very sick, when he wrote as follows; and the reader will notice that the "honored lady" gives place to

DEAR MOTHER, AND NOURISHER OF SARAH: I have no friend in whose pleasant, pure love I can delight as in Sarah, and she is now wasting away on a bed of sickness. My heart is very heavy with sorrow on her account. Yes, I am so borne down with trouble, that for three days my tears have not been stayed. I do not say this to boast of my love. I owe her all this. I have a petition to make; which is, that you will do all you can for Sarah. But I need not ask this, for I am confident that your kindness, will lead you to do, and cause to be done, all that can be done for her. But will you not let me know whether her sickness increases or diminishes?—if it increases, that my sighs and tears may increase in pleading before the Lord for mercy, and if it diminishes, that my thanksgivings may increase before our merciful Father in heaven.

Dear mother, if it is the will of our Father in heaven to take Sarah to the upper mansions,—though I shall be comforted on account of her being saved from all the bitter misery of this world, and her blessed rest with the Saviour, where she can praise his love with her pleasant voice, joined with the sweet songs of angels,—still it will be hard for me. If I live after she has gone, God forbid that I behold her dust, and not long to be her companion in heaven. Your unworthy

OSHANA.

Our next letter is from Sarah to Miss Fiske, written at Seir, in 1859, more than two years after her marriage, and gives a good idea of her Christian spirit:—

BELOVED: The good news that you gave us of the revivals in your country, rouses our hearts to warmer zeal. Shall we not also prepare the way of the Lord? We know, by the gracious visits of God here this winter, that Christians there are ever praying for our poor people. For we hear from the preachers who come up to the concert every month, that the work of the Lord goes forward in the villages of the plain, and also in the mountains.

Here in Seir, the good work began among the women. I hear them say, "Though we have had revivals before, we have never seen a year like this, when the words of God had such deep effect." Mrs. Cochran and I have good meetings with these women. Our congregations make glad the Christian heart, and I am particularly happy in laboring for them, one by one. A portion of them, with tearful eyes, are covenanting to be the Lord's. We ask the Lord to strengthen them in their covenant, and we entreat of you and of your friends to pray for them.

Our Sabbath schools are very pleasant. Mr. Cochran will tell you how the work goes forward. Mrs. Cochran has a class of women, and so have I. Last Sabbath Mr. Cochran read one of your letters to the congregation, and we learned from it how the work of the Lord goes forward in your blessed churches. We praised the Lord, and then we entreated him to bless our churches, and make them more spiritual, for we are confident that his grace is sufficient for us all.

She visited Tehoma, in May, two months after the date of the preceding, with her husband, Oshana, and two little children, and gives the following account of their journey:—

"Through the favor of our heavenly Father, I have made a journey into these mountains, rejoicing in the opportunity to labor for my people. I am very happy that my father and friends brought me on my way in willingness of soul. From the day that I left my own country, in every place that I have entered, until now, my heart has been excited to praise my Guide and my Deliverer, and I have also been grateful to my teachers who brought me to labor in a desolate vineyard, joyfully, I, who am so weak, and such a great sinner. In all the various circumstances in which I have been, your counsels have been of great benefit to me.

"I think you will be glad to know that the gospel door is wide open here. You and your friends will pray that the Lord of the harvest would send forth laborers into his harvest.

"We left the city of Oroomiah, May 6th. We were ten souls—Hormezd, of
Aliawa, Sagoo, of Geog Tapa, Matlub, the Tehomian, Guly, and little
Gozel, Oshana and his brother, our two little girls, and myself. May
8th, we reached Memikan, and remained there three days.

"It was our first Sabbath in the mountains. I met that company of women for whom our departed Mrs. Rhea used to labor. May 12th, we left Memikan, and went up to the tops of the snowy mountains of Gawar. The cold was such that we were obliged to wrap our faces and our hands as we would in January. As we descended the mountain, we found it about as warm as February. That night we staid in the deep valley of Ishtazin, in the village of Boobawa, where Yohanan and Guly dwell. The people here are very wild and hard. Yohanan and Guly were not here, having gone to visit Khananis. Only a few came together for preaching. The people said, 'Yohanan preaches, and we revile.' May 13th, we left Boobawa, and soon crossed the river. Men had gone before us, and were lying in wait there. They stripped us, but afterwards, of themselves, became sorry, and returned our things. As we were going along this wonderful, fearful river, and beheld the mountains on either side covered with beautiful forests, we remembered Mr. Rhea, the composer of the hymn, 'Valley of Ishtazin.' And when filled with wonder at the works of the Great Creator, we all, with one voice, praised him in songs of joy fitting for the mountains. Here the brethren reminded me that our dear Miss Fiske had trodden these fearful precipices. This greatly encouraged me in my journey. This day we went into many villages, and over many ascents and descents. At evening we reached Jeloo, and remained over night in the pleasant village of Zeer, which lies in a valley made beautiful by forests, and a river passing through it. They showed great hospitality here, and were eager to receive the word of the Lord. May 14th, we left Zeer, and went to Bass. It was Saturday night, and we remained over the Sabbath in the village of Nerik. I shall always have a pleasant remembrance of the Sabbath we passed there. Prom the first moment that we went in till Monday morning, we were never alone, so many were assembling to hear the words of the Lord. With tearful eyes and burning hearts, they were inquiring for the way of salvation. They would say, 'What shall we do? We have no one to sit among us, to teach us, poor, wretched ones.' Truly, a man's heart burns within him as he sees this poor people scattered as sheep without a shepherd. May 16th, we mounted our mules, and went on our way. Half an hour from Nerik we came to the village of Urwintoos. An honorable, kind-hearted woman came out, and made us her guests. This was Oshana's aunt. As soon as we sat down, the house was filled with men and women. They brought a Testament themselves, and entreated us to read from that holy book. Did not my heart rejoice when I saw how eagerly they were listening to the account of the death of our Lord Jesns Christ! When the men went out, the women came very near to me, entreating for the word of the Lord, as those thirsting for water. Then I read to them from the book.

"There are many sad deeds of wickedness among these mountain Nestorians; and when Christians hear how anxious they are to receive the words of life, will they not feel for them? We reached Tehoma May 17th. Now, from the mercy of God, we are all well and in the village of Mazrayee. I am not able to labor for the women here, as I desired, because many of them have gone to the sheep-folds. It is so hot we cannot remain here, and we will go there also, soon. I trust, wherever I am, and as long as I am here, I shall labor for that Master who wearied himself for me, and who bought these souls with his blood.

"The Lord keep and bless you, our beloved, who have been a mother to the Nestorian girls, all of whom, with longing hearts are expecting your return. We continually pray Him who gave you to us, to restore you again in mercy to our people. If counted worthy, I should greatly rejoice to receive a little note from you."

She returned to Oroomiah in the spring of 1860, and left again in 1861 for Amadia. When she went away, her three children had the whooping cough; so she would not go into any of the mission families lest she should spread the disease among the children; but after she was all ready to go, and the heads of her own little flock were peeping out of the saddle-bag contrivance in which they rode, Mrs. Breath went out to bid her good by. Sarah told her how Miss Fiske had said, when she took her oldest child into her arms for the first time, "'Now, Sarah, you will not seek for this child a pleasant home upon the plain, as Lot did, but rather to do God's will, and then he will give you all things." "I have always remembered it," she added, "and am not willing now to be found seeking my pleasure here."

During the long winter of 1861-62, no messenger could cross the mountains from Oroomiah to Amadia; and she thus writes in March, 1862, to Miss Rice:—

"I did greatly long for the coming of the messenger. We were very sad in not hearing a single word from home. Now I offer thanksgivings to Him in whose hands are all things, that he has opened a door of mercy, and has delighted us by the arrival of letters. They came to-day. Many thanks to you and your dear pupils. The Lord bless them, and prepare their hearts for such a blessed work as ours.

"Give Eneya's salutations and mine to all the school. I think they will wish to hear about the work of the Lord here. Thanks to God, our health has been good ever since we came, and our hearts have been contented and happy in seeing some of our neighbors believing, and with joy receiving the words of life. Every Sabbath we have a congregation of thirty-five, and more men than women. For many weeks only the men came; but now, by the grace of God, the women come too, and their number is increasing. I have commenced to teach them the life of the Lord Jesus from the beginning. I have strong hopes that God is awakening one of them. His word is very dear to her. Her son is the priest of the village, and a sincere Christian. Four other young men and five women are, we trust, not far from the door of the kingdom. We entreat you, dear sisters, to pray in a special manner for these thoughtful ones, that they may enter the narrow door of life.

"From the villages about us we have a good report. They receive the gospel from Oshana and Shlemon, who visit them every Sabbath. In my journeys through these mountains, I have seen various assemblies of men and women listening to the gospel, poor ones, exclaiming 'What shall we do? Our priests have deceived us: we are lost, like sheep on the mountains. There is no one to teach us.' They sit in misery and ignorance. They need our prayers and our help. I verily believe that if we labor faithfully—God help us to labor thus—we shall soon see our church revived, built up on the foundation Christ Jesus, and adorned for him as a bride for her husband. With tears of joy we shall gaze on these ancient ruins becoming new temples of the Lord. Soon shall these mountains witness scenes that will rejoice angels and saints. Those will be blessed times. Let us pray for them, and labor with Christ for their coming."

Our latest news from Sarah is, that during the summer of 1862, her little son had died, and she herself was just recovering from a dangerous fever.

The joyful anticipations awakened by such a letter from a graduate of the Seminary, in ancient Amadia, are not diminished by accounts received of a conference of "Mountain helpers," held in Gawar, from May 30th to June 2d, 1862. They came from Gawar, Jeloo, Tehoma and Amadia. At the opening of each session, half an hour was spent in prayer; then carefully prepared essays were read on subjects previously assigned, and each topic was afterwards thoroughly discussed. The first subject was, "Hinderances to evangelization in the mountains,—such as their ruggedness, deep snows, superstition of the people, and persecution." Deacon Tamo, in speaking, admitted all these, but said, "For rough roads we have our feet and goats' hair sandals; for deep snows, snow shoes; for the darkness and superstition of the people, we have the light of the truth and the sword of the Spirit; and for persecution, we have God's promise of protection and the firman of the sultan." "The faithful pastor's duty to his flock," and "Means of securing laborers for the field," were among the topics discussed. Their discussions on the subject of benevolence showed that they regarded that duty as binding as any other. They engaged to observe the monthly concert, and take up monthly and also annual collections in their congregations, and apply the proceeds to the support of a laborer in the mountains. On Sabbath evening the monthly concert was observed, and after stirring addresses, the contribution amounted to what was for them the very large sum of fifty-two dollars. Among the offerings were a horse, an ox, a sheep, a goat, and different articles of jewelry. Arrangements were made at the conference for the formation of a Protestant community in Gawar, in accordance with the firman of the sultan. In all respects the meeting was a rich spiritual festival, and from the spirit its members manifested, and the progress already made, we may hope for extensive and important results before many years have passed away.