Woman and Her Saviour in Persia / By a Returned Missionary

by Thomas Laurie

REVIVAL IN 1846.

PREPARATORY WORK.—SANCTIFIED AFFLICTIONS.—NAME FOR REVIVAL.—SCENES IN IHE SEMINARIES IN JANUARY.—DEACON JOHN, SANUM, AND SARAH.—MR. STODDARD.—YAKOB.—YONAN.—MEETING IN THE BETHEL.—PRIEST ESHOO.—DEACON TAMO.—PHYSICAL EXCITEMENT AND ITS CURE.—ARTLESS SIMPLICITY OF CONVERTS.—MISSIONARY BOX.—MEETINGS BEFORE VACATION.—MR. STODDARD'S LABORS.—FEMALE PRAYER MEETING.—REVIVAL IN THE AUTUMN.

The first revival in Oroomiah seemed to burst forth like a fountain in the desert. Yet, as such a fountain, though springing full grown from the earth, is connected with unseen arrangements working out that visible result, so was this revival connected with an extended process of preparation. For years there had been a laborious inculcation of divine truth, especially in the Seminary. True, there had been few conversions; but those few were an essential part of the preparatory work. The roots of this revival extended back as far as the conversion of Deacon John, in 1844. Even in those still unconverted, there had been a wonderful preparation of the way of the Lord. No one could compare the condition of the places yet unblessed by missionary labor, with those so favored, and not feel this. Religious education had made a marked improvement in the appearance of the pupils of both Seminaries, in their personal habits, their intelligence, and especially in their knowledge of the doctrines of the gospel. Old superstitions had lost their hold; they could no longer trust in fasts and ceremonies, and they had an intellectual understanding of the way of salvation through a Redeemer. True, all this did not necessarily involve a spiritual work; but God is pleased to have the way thus prepared for that Spirit who sanctifies through the truth. Those who had received the most instruction were the first to come to Christ, and have since lived the more consistent Christian life.

Then, in the good providence of Him who always observes a beautiful order in the manifestations of his grace, other influences tended to the same result. The very delay of the blessing called forth earnest prayer from the husbandmen who were waiting for precious fruit, and had long patience for it, till they received the early and the latter rain. The trials which the missionaries had passed through in 1845 also tended to produce that despair of help from themselves which usually precedes blessing. In 1844 they numbered sixteen souls; but in 1846, from various causes, they were diminished to ten. These were not discouraged, but remained at their post confident that labors in the Lord cannot be in vain. Then the persecution under Mar Shimon shut them up to God as their only hope, while it rid them of some native helpers, who cared chiefly for their own temporal advantage. The army of Gideon, on all sides, was being diminished in order to secure obedience to that precept, "He that glorieth, let him glory in the Lord." The feeling was general, "all our springs are in God." One of the missionaries said, in the autumn of 1845, "God never formed a soul that Christ cannot redeem from the power of sin. I know this people are sunk in sin and degradation; but Jesus died to save them, and we may see them forever stars in his crown of rejoicing, if we are only humble and faithful enough to lead them to the Saviour."

At the time of the revival, Dr. and Mrs. Perkins resided at Seir, and Dr. and Mrs. Wright were temporarily with them in that village. Mr. Breath was in the city, but using the Turkish mainly, he never ventured to give religious instruction in Syriac; so that Mr. Stocking and Mr. Stoddard were the only laborers in Oroomiah. They lived on the mission premises already described; and at that time the Male Seminary occupied a building in the same enclosure.

One day in the autumn of 1845, Mr. Stocking, Miss Fiske, and Deacon John were riding together, when John asked in English, "If we ever have a revival here, what shall we call it?" Mr. Stocking replied, "Let us get it first; then we will find a name;" and when it did come, the pious Nestorians at once called it "an awakening."

Towards the close of December, Mr. Stocking noticed repeated indications of deep seriousness among the pupils of Mr. Stoddard, and felt that they were on the eve of a revival. About the same time, Deacon John was more active in labor, and earnest in prayer. In the Seminaries, the teachers did not think so much of what their pupils were, as of the power of God to make them like himself. They labored in hope, expecting a blessing; but it came sooner than they looked for, and in larger measure. The first Monday of the new year, January 5th, was spent as a day of fasting and prayer; and the missionaries had just begun to pray, when they found that some were praying for themselves. Miss Fiske went into her school, as usual, at nine o'clock, and, after telling her flock that many prayers were being offered for them that day in a distant land, led their morning devotions, and then sent them into another room to study with a native teacher. Sanum and Sarah lingered behind the rest; and as they drew near, she asked, "Did you not understand me?" They made no reply; and she saw they were weeping. "Have you had bad news?" Still no reply; but when they got near enough, they whispered, "May we have to-day to care for our souls?" and Sarah added, "Perhaps next year I shall not be here." There was no private room to give them, but they made a closet for themselves among the fuel in the wood cellar, and there spent that day looking unto Jesus; nor did they look in vain. Their teacher did not know where they had gone, till, long after one of them had died, the survivor gave her an account of that memorable day.

On Sabbath evening, January 18th, the words at the English prayer meeting were few; but the prayers carried the dear pupils and laid them at the feet of Jesus. At the close of the meeting, Mr. Stoddard was lighting his candle to go home, when Mr. Stocking asked if he saw any indications of interest in his school. There was no reply; but the expressive face, and the candle dropping unnoticed as he held it, showed that thought was busy, and the heart full. At length he said, with deep feeling, "I should expect to see interest if we felt as we ought to feel;" and passed out. All were impressed with his manner, so earnest, yet so humble. He retired to his study, called John, and talked with him on the state of the school. He proposed that they should each day make some one pupil a subject of special prayer and personal effort, and begin that night with Yakob of Sooldooz. They prayed together for him, and then he said, "John, I want to talk with him to-night; we don't know what may be on the morrow; go and call him." Yakob, who had acted badly in meeting that day, came, expecting to be punished; but when Mr. Stoddard kindly asked him to come and sit down by him, and, taking his hand, said, "Have you ever thought that you have a soul to be saved or lost?" he broke down at once. He confessed that the whole school had combined to shut out the subject from their thoughts, but really felt so uneasy, that if one of them should be brought to Christ he thought all would follow. Then the good man, who was so distressed that day because he could see no impression made by the sermon, thanked God and took courage. Not willing to devote Monday to Yakob alone, he conversed with another of the same name, and he too went away weeping to his closet. The two had been in the recitation room but a little while before their feelings became so intense that they had to ask leave to retire. "It is God!" "It is God!" was whispered from seat to seat; and at noon a group collected to discuss what was to be done. One proposed to rise up against the work, and put it down; but at length Yonan of Geog Tapa said, "I don't want to be a Christian; I don't mean to be; but I am afraid to oppose this; we had better let it alone. If it is God's work we cannot put it down, and if it is man's work it will come to nought without our interference." Nothing more was said, but before school commenced that afternoon, some of those boys were on their knees in prayer.

In the evening, Mr. Stoddard sent for two leaders in the opposition, very promising scholars, but of late forward in every thing that was evil—one of them this Yonan, and as he himself told afterwards: "Mr. Stoddard said, 'If you do not wish to be saved yourselves, I beg of you, from my inmost soul, not to hinder others;' and eternity so opened up before me, that I was ready to be swallowed up. I longed for some one to speak to me of the way of escape; but no such word was spoken to me that night. I could not sleep, for I was almost sure there was but a step between me and death." Late on Thursday evening, the other Yonan, of Ada, came to Mr. Stoddard in extreme agitation, who conversed with him a while, and then left him there to pray alone. That night he too could not sleep. The years he had spent in sin rose up before him in the light of God, and filled him with anguish; but next morning, in conversing with Mr. Stoddard, he seemed to find rest in submitting to sovereign mercy.

On Monday evening, the indications of interest in the Female Seminary were such, that the teacher invited those disposed to seek salvation at once, to come to her room at five o'clock. Before that hour, a number had retired to pray for themselves. Just then, Mr. Stoddard came to the door of the teacher, saying, "I cannot stop; but I wanted you to know that four or five of my boys are much distressed for their sins." This was the first intimation she had of what was taking place in the other school; and she turned away from Mr. Stoddard to find five of her pupils in the same condition. Mr. Stoddard came in again, in the course of the evening, to pray and consult; and Mr. Stocking gave up every thing else to labor with the pupils in both schools. Both Dr. Perkins and Dr. Wright came down frequently from Seir. Every day brought out new cases of those who were being taught of God. Wednesday evening, at the conclusion of a sermon from Mr. Stocking, on the words, "Behold, I stand at the door and knock," no member of the Male Seminary seemed willing to leave his seat. After a few words of exhortation, they were dismissed to their rooms; but so intense were their feelings that they came in crowds to the teacher's study, where he preached Jesus Christ, and forgiveness through his blood, till near midnight; then, fatigued and exhausted, he retired to rest. Thursday evening, in the English prayer meeting, Mr. Stoddard said, "God will assuredly carry forward his own work. Let us give ourselves up to labor for him, in pointing these precious souls to Christ." After the meeting, the teachers of both Seminaries left to engage in that blessed work till midnight. Eleven years after, on the same evening, and about the same hour, one was called to see the other pass from earth into the presence of the Saviour whom he then set forth so faithfully. No wonder the survivor recalled it in the hush of that parting scene.

It is difficult to describe the occurrences of this eventful week. The teachers' rooms were in such demand as closets for the pupils, that they could hardly command them long enough for their own devotions. They were ready to write "Immanuel" on every thing around them. The girls were very free to express their feelings, and they had such perfect confidence in their teacher, that often, during the revival, some of them woke her in the morning, standing at her bedside, with some inquiry about the way of life.

The two schools hardly knew any thing of each other till Friday evening, when they met in a room fitted up for the Female Seminary the preceding autumn. The first time Mr. Stoddard entered it after this, he looked round, and said, "May this room be wholly consecrated to the Lord forever;" and this evening Christ seemed to take possession of it. The boys sat on one side, and the girls on the other; and seldom, perhaps, has there been a company more under the influence of things unseen. It seemed as though God himself spoke that evening through his ministering servants, and this and that one was born there and then. It was in the same room that that last prayer meeting of the teacher with her former pupils was held, July 15th, 1858. In the engraving, the two upper windows, immediately to the left of the small ones over the central door, belong to this room.

At the close of the week, ten of the pupils were trusting in Christ; and of the next Lord's day it might truly be said, "That Sabbath was an high day," for the Lord was present, and many strong men bowed before him. Priest Eshoo had watched the boys; he had watched his own praying Sarah; and now he looked within. He had never been known to weep; he scorned such weakness; but when, at the close of the afternoon service, Mr. Stocking took his hand, saying, "Be sure you are on the right foundation," he buried his face in his handkerchief and wept aloud. Nor did he weep alone; Deacon Tamo, too,—whose levity all through the week had been a sore trial to Mr. Stoddard, so that he had asked, "Can it be that God has let him come here to hinder the work?"—now trembled from head to foot. Mr. Stoddard prayed with him, and as they rose from their knees, Tamo looked him in the face, and, with streaming eyes, said, "Thank you, thank you for caring for my soul."

During the following week, most of the inmates of both Seminaries were deeply convinced of sin, and daily some souls seemed to come to the Saviour.

But some things rendered it apparent that the interest was not all from above. One evening, fifteen or twenty boys were found rolling on the floor, groaning and crying for mercy. Measures were taken at once to prevent the repetition of such a scene, and at evening prayers Mr. Stocking commenced his remarks by asking if any of them had ever seen the Nazloo River, at Marbeeshoo, near its source. Startled by what seemed a very untimely question, a few answered, "Yes." "Was there much water in it?" Wondering what he could mean, the answer was, "No; very little." "Did it make much noise?" "Yes; a great deal." The catechist went on: "Have you seen the same river on the plain?" By this time, every ear was listening, and all replied, "Yes." "Was it deep and wide?" "Yes; it was full of water." "And was it more noisy than at Marbeeshoo?" "No; it was very quiet and still." The parable was now applied very faithfully. He said that he had hoped the Holy Spirit had been teaching them the evil of their hearts; but their noise and confusion that evening showed him that there was no depth to their experience. The effect was wonderful; they hung their heads and quietly dispersed, and from many a closet that night might have been heard the petition, "Lord, make me to know my heart, and let me not be like that noisy river." What threatened to be an uncontrollable excitement became at once a quiet but deep sense of guilt. Their desires were not less intense, but more spiritual; their consciences were very tender, and their feelings contrite, but subdued and gentle.

In this revival, the converts had a great deal of feeling, but no knowledge of the mode in which such feelings find expression in Christian lands; and in the freshness and strength of their emotions they yielded to every impulse with an unconscious simplicity that was exceedingly interesting. If they were under conviction of sin, that found immediate and unrestrained utterance. If they thought they were forgiven, that, too, at once found expression. There was a wonderful transparency of spirit that revealed each varying aspect of their feelings, and withal a tendency to undue excitement that needed careful handling. Indeed, it was found necessary to watch their social meetings very closely, and sometimes to direct them to pray alone.

For three weeks, very few visitors came to the Seminary. The time seemed to be given expressly for the benefit of the pupils, and it was like one continual Sabbath. Every corner was consecrated to prayer, and most of the work was direct effort for the salvation of souls. But after that, visitors began to come, and then the young converts became helpers in Christ Jesus, even the sight of their devotion turning the thoughts of others to spiritual things. Often ten or fifteen women spent the night on the premises; and at such times, all the spare bedding was brought into the great room, which was transformed into a dormitory. The teacher often staid with them till midnight, and then, from her own room, could hear them praying the rest of the night. In connection with this, one incident claims our notice. One day in February, a box arrived from America for the Seminary; but so engrossed was the teacher with more important duties, that it was midnight ere she could open it. Next morning, all were invited to her room, to see the contents. She told of the kind friends who had sent it, and the love of Christ, that constrained to such kindness. They were moved to tears, but not one rose to examine the things, and not a word was spoken, till the proposal was made that the quilts should be kept for the use of their friends who came to hear the word of God. All joyfully agreed to that, and then, after looking at the articles, they returned to pray for their benefactors.

The last meetings of the school before the March vacation were called thanksgivings, and fitly, too, for in the two Seminaries as many as fifty souls had begun to love the Saviour, When they left, the universal cry was, "Pray for us." "Pray for us in the temptations that await us at home." One little girl said, "Did you ever see a new-born lamb cast into the snow and live? And can we live?" Thank God, most of the hopeful converts did live, and we trust are to live forever, with the good Shepherd who gave his life for their salvation.

It does not fall in with the design of this volume to give a complete account of the revival, but we cannot leave it without a word more about the instrumentality of Mr. Stoddard in connection with that work of grace. He was abundant in preaching. He did not think that the most ordinary sermons are good enough for the mission field; for he knew that the Nestorians could discriminate as well as others nearer home, and so wrote out his sermons carefully in English, but in the Syriac idiom, noting on a blank page the books consulted in their preparation. He also excelled in labors for individuals. The first inquirer became such while Mr. Stoddard pressed home upon his conscience his guilt as a sinner against God; and the same is true of many others. After conversing with a person, he always led him to the throne of grace, and then had him present his own offering there; and after such a one had left, he seemed unable to turn his thoughts to any thing else, till again in private he had commended him to God. Indeed, he often began to do this before they descended the stairs. He kept a little book, in which he recorded every case, the state in which he found the person, and any subsequent change; and it was noticed that where he began, he continued to labor, not only till there was hope, but even assurance of hope. Such labor is as exhausting as it is delightful; and no wonder his strength proved less than his zeal and love.

It was a great joy to him when his people could take part in prayer meetings. He divided the thirty converts among them into three circles, and met each of them twice a week: this furnished him a season of refreshment every day, and each of them took part at least once a week. They were thus early initiated into a course of Christian activity, and taught that they would lose much themselves, besides failing to do good to others, if they held back. The converts were so rooted and grounded in this truth, that once, when Miss Fiske was in Geog Tapa, a brother said to her that she must not leave the village till she had induced a woman to pray with her, whom they all regarded as a Christian, but who would not take part in their female prayer meetings; and when she objected to urging her, Deacon John replied, "If she was an ordinary Christian, we might let her pass; but her position is one of such prominence, that the other women will do just as she does; and so she must do right," Miss Fiske talked long with the delinquent, but she insisted that she could not do it. The missionary told of her own trials in the matter,—how she had staid away from meeting lest she should be called on, and remained unblessed till she was willing to do her duty. She prayed with her once and again, even a third time, before she consented, saying, "I will not displease God any more in this." So, drawing very close to her instructor, she offered two petitions for herself, and one that her friend might be rewarded for showing her her duty. Hannah was soon active in the women's meetings, and is to this day a most useful and consistent Christian.

Another marked feature in Mr. Stoddard's labors was his tact in setting others to work for Christ. He taught his pupils that they must toil as well as pray, and soon after the first converts were brought to Christ, definite labor for others was assigned to them, not only among their schoolmates and those who visited the premises, but also in gathering in those not disposed to come to meeting. Once, when three fourths of the pupils were hopefully pious, Mr. Stoddard said, "I must bring in more, just to furnish work for these converts." He himself was happy in his work, because he gave himself wholly to it, without the least reservation; and amid the many trials that marked the years of his residence in Persia, he looked beyond them all, to Him who not only can give joy in suffering, but, by means of it, bring sinners to the Saviour.

The hopeful converts in the Seminary, after spending the summer of 1846 at their own homes, in circumstances of great trial and temptation, returned, all save one, not only retaining their interest in spiritual things, but established in Christian character. Their friends also testified to their thoughtfulness, prayerfulness, and cheerful obedience at home, and the influence of their piety was happy on others.

For a while, in the autumn of 1846, the school was disbanded on account of the cholera. But, contrary to the fears of many, after a separation of two months, all were spared to meet again, though hundreds had fallen on all sides. Three weeks afterwards, the Christians among them seemed more than usually earnest in prayer for the conversion of the impenitent, and at once the answer came. The first one awakened was Moressa, now the wife of Yakob, of Supergan, and then about fourteen years of age. She had been taken into the family of Mrs. Grant nine years before, and that of Mr. Stocking afterwards. She had received much religious instruction, with apparently little effect; but now her convictions were deep, though she did not submit to Christ for nearly a week after she felt she was lost. Her case deeply enlisted the sympathies of her fellow-pupils, and soon several others passed through a season of deep distress, to rest in the grace of Christ.

One of these was Eneya, sister of Oshana, and now the wife of Shlemon, in Amadia. Her widowed mother had fled with her children to Oroomiah before the Koordish invasion of her native Tehoma. Few children have so deep a sense of sin as she had, or exercise such implicit trust in the Saviour. At that time, her teacher wrote, "May she become a messenger of great good to her countrywomen;" and now, that prayer is being answered in her usefulness in that distant and lonely field of labor. Altogether there were seven who seemed at this time to take the Lord Jesus Christ as their God and Saviour.