From the day my dearest Mary and myself deliberately prepared to set out on the work in which we finally embarked, the Lord never allowed us to doubt that it was his work, and that the result on the church of God would be greater than our remaining quietly at home. All our subsequent intercourse with his dear children in England, and in our journey, had a confirmatory tendency, and all the communications from the dear circle to whom we were known, insignificant as we were, convinced us that the cause of the Lord had suffered no detriment—that many had been led to act with more decision, and some to pursue measures which possibly might not otherwise have been undertaken.
Again, the Lord’s great care over us in his abundant provision for all our necessities, although every one of those sources failed we had calculated upon naturally when we left England, enabled us yet further to sing of his goodness.
Then, as to our work; when we left England, schools entered not into our plan; but when we arrived here, the Lord so completely put the school of the Armenians into our hands, that on consultation both my dearest Mary, myself, and Mr. Pfander thought that the Lord’s children and saints must take the work the Lord gives, particularly as there appeared no immediate prospect of other work. We entered on it, and by dear Mr. Pfander’s most efficient help, the children were soon brought to translate God’s word with understanding, and the school increased from 35 to near 80. My dearest Mary had long desired to undertake the girl’s school exclusively; but previous to her confinement she did not feel able; but as soon as she got about, she undertook it heartily, and the dear little children were so attached to their employments, that they used to come on their holidays. She had got so far on in Armenian, as to be able to prepare for them, in large characters, some little pieces of Carus Wilson’s, which I got translated into the Armenian of this place, and the dear little children were so interested by them, that they exceedingly desired to take them home, and read them to their mothers, which in two or three days they were to have done. For our own instruction in Arabic and Armenian, and for the school, we had five most competent teachers. Thus things went on up to the end of March, when the appearance of the plague obliged us to break up the school. But now two months have passed, and Oh! how changed. Half the children, or more, are dead; many have left the place; the five teachers are dead, and my dear, dear Mary. When I think on this, my heart is overwhelmed within me, and I remain in absolute darkness as to the meaning of my Lord and Father; but shall I therefore doubt him now, after so many proofs of love, because he acts inscrutably to me? God forbid! That the Lord made the coming of my dearest wife, and her multiplied trials and blessings, the instruments of her soul’s rapid preparation for his presence, I have no doubt. I never heard a soul breathe a more simple, firm, and unostentatious faith in God. She never had a doubt but that it was for the Lord she left all that was naturally dear to her to expose herself to dangers from which, with a constitutional timidity, she shrunk. Her soul was most especially drawn out towards her Lord’s coming, and this spread a gilded halo round every trial. She constantly exclaimed, as we walked on the roof of our house[32] of an evening, “When will he come?” Often she would say to me, I never enjoyed such spiritual peace as since I have been in Bagdad—such an unvarying sense of nearness to Christ, and assurance of his love and care; we came out trusting only under his wing, and he will never forsake us. Her strongest assurance was certainly that the Lord would not allow the plague to enter our dwelling; but when she saw that the Lord mysteriously accepted not this confidence, but let it rest even on her, it never disturbed her peace, as I have mentioned before. She said to me, “I know not which is to me most mysterious, that the Lord should have laid his hand upon me, or, having laid it, that I should enjoy such peace as I do.” And in this peace and confidence, every subsequent moment of sensibility was passed. Her constant exclamation was, “I know he will do most graciously by me.” Yet notwithstanding all the happiness I have in contemplating her among the redeemed, thus clothed in white; and notwithstanding the triumphing conviction I have in spite of the temptations of Satan, and the darkness that envelopes my present position, that all is the offspring of infinite love; yet at times the overwhelming loss I have sustained, in every possible way that a husband, a father, a missionary, and even a man, can know, so affects me that but for my Lord’s loving presence, I should be overwhelmed.
I now wait till the arrival of my dear friends to consult with them as to our future plans. May the Lord, if it be his pleasure, quickly send them hither, and direct us in all our plans and purposes, so that we may be led to fulfil his will.
May 30.—A messenger has arrived from Bussorah, bringing intelligence of the kind Taylors; but the letters he brought were all taken from him, and he stripped to his shirt, a few miles from Bagdad. However, by word of mouth, he brings, on the whole, good accounts. All their immediate family are well; some have died, among those that accompanied them, and nearly all the Arab sailors, but as the letters are lost, we know not the particulars.
May 31.—I have had another proof of my heavenly Father’s care. An Armenian merchant has sent his servant to me to say, he proposes sending him every day to buy for me what I want from the bazaar, and also to offer me any money I may want. The latter I had no occasion to accept, for when the Jew left the city who was to supply me, and the man died who was to obtain it for me, and I seemed left without remedy, an Armenian offered to supply whatever I might want, without any application on my part, and from him I have had what I needed.
Whether or not the affairs of the Pasha are likely to be quietly settled, I know not; but I think there are some indications that the present Pasha will remain. So intensely ruined does the city appear, that the Pasha of Aleppo, who was to have come and dispossessed him, seems to have no desire for the exchange; and besides, the present Pasha has offered so large a sum of money, that there appears little doubt it will be accepted. Dispatches have arrived for him, the contents of which are not yet known; but the Pasha says, he has received the most satisfactory letters. He is, I believe, recovering daily his strength.
Thus I finish this melancholy portion of my journal—one of those dark pages in the history of one’s life, that whenever the thoughts stray towards it, chills to the very centre of one’s being; and when we trace all its sources, and see they terminate in sin, Oh! how hateful must that thing be, which is fraught with such deadly consequences. Oh! what a blessedness it is, amidst all these lights and shades of life, to know that the Rock on which we rest is the same, and does not vary; and that whether he administers to us the bitter portion or the sweet, his banner over us is love.
June 5.—Reports are again spreading that the Pasha of Aleppo is within a few days of this place. But we sit down and patiently wait the event.