CHAPTER VIII.
EARLY LABORS FOR WOMEN.
FIRST MEETINGS WITH THEM.—FIRST CONVEKT.—FIRST LESSONS.—WILD WOMEN OF ARDISHAI.
The teachers of the Seminary did not confine their labors to its inmates; they expended both time and toil for adult women as well as for their daughters, and never felt that they gave them too large a proportion of their labors. At first there was a strong feeling among most of the women that they might not worship God along with deacons and readers; and so they could not be persuaded to attend public preaching. But Miss Fiske found that a few would come to her room at the same hour; so, encouraged by her missionary sisters whose hearts were in the work, but whose family cares prevented their doing it themselves, she visited the women at their houses, to urge them to come in. Then, as her own knowledge of the language was as yet imperfect (this was in 1844), and she wisely judged that listening to a gentleman would sooner prepare them to come in to the regular service, she secured one of the missionary brethren to conduct the meeting. The first day only five attended; but soon she enjoyed the sight of about forty mothers listening to the truth as it is in Jesus. On the third Sabbath, she was struck with the fixed attention of one of them, and, on talking with her alone, found her deeply convinced of sin. She had not before seen one who did not feel perfectly prepared to die; but this one groaned, being burdened, and seemed bowed to the dust with the sense of her unworthiness. When Miss Fiske prayed with her, she repeated each petition in a whisper after her, and rose from her knees covered with perspiration, so intensely was she moved: her life, she said, had been one of rebellion against God; and she knew that no prayers, fasts, or other outward observances, had benefited her, or could procure forgiveness. In this state of mind she was directed to Christ and his righteousness as her only hope; and though for some time little progress was apparent, at length, as she herself expressed it, "I was praying, and the Lord poured peace into my soul." The change in her character was noticed by her neighbors. From being one of the most turbulent and disagreeable of the women in her vicinity, she became noted for her gentleness and general consistency. She has since died, and her last days were full of a sweet trust in her Saviour. She was the first inquirer among Nestorian women.
This meeting was given up as soon as the women found their way to the regular service; but ever since there have been separate meetings for them at other hours.
Until the revival in 1846, those who conducted these meetings had to labor alone, for there were none of the Nestorians to help them. Indeed, Miss Fiske had been in Oroomiah more than two years, before women came much to her for strictly religious conversation, or could be induced to sit down to the study of the Scriptures.
Some of her first efforts to interest them in the Bible were almost amusing in the difficulties encountered, and the manner in which they were overcome.
She would seat herself among them on the earthen floor, and read a verse, then ask questions to see if they understood it. For example: after reading the history of the creation (for she began at the beginning), she asked, "Who was the first man?" Answer. "What do we know? we are women;" which was about equivalent in English to "we are donkeys." The passage was read again, and the question repeated with no better success. Then she told them, Adam was the first man, and made them repeat the name Adam over and over till they remembered it. The next question was, "What does it mean?" Here, too, they could give no answer; not because they did not know, for the word was in common use among them; but they had no idea that they could answer, and so they did not, and were perfectly delighted to find that the first man was called red earth, because he was made of it. This was enough for one lesson. It set them to thinking. It woke up faculties previously dormant. The machinery was there, perfect in all its parts, but so rusted from disuse, that it required no little skill and patience to make it move at all; but the least movement was a great gain; more was sure to follow. Another lesson would take up Eve (Syriac, Hawa, meaning Life). Miss Fiske would begin by saying, "Is not that a pretty name? and would you not like to know that you had a great-great-grandmother called Life? Now, that was the name of our first mother—both yours and mine." It was interesting to notice how faces previously stolid would light up with animation after that, if the preacher happened to repeat the name of our first parents, and how one would touch another, whispering with childish joy, "Didn't you hear? He said Adam."
Such were the women who came to the Seminary for instruction; but the teachers also went forth to search out the no less besotted females in the villages; and, as a counterpart to the above, we present an account of labors among the wild women of Ardishai, a village twelve miles south-east from Oroomiah.
When Miss Fiske had been in Oroomiah about one year, Mr. Stocking proposed a visit to Ardishai. So the horses were brought to the gate, one bearing the tent, another the baskets containing Mr. Stocking's children, and a third miscellaneous baggage; besides the saddle horses. The first night, the tent was pitched on one of the threshing floors of Geog Tapa; but as American ladies were a novelty in Ardishai, the party there, in order to secure a little quiet, had to pitch their tent on the flat roof of a house. It was Miss Fiske's first day in a large village, and she became so exhausted by talking with the women, that she can never think of that weary Saturday without a feeling of fatigue. As the village is near the lake, the swarms of mosquitoes allowed them no rest at night; and morning again brought the crowd with its idle curiosity as unsatisfied as the appetite of more diminutive assailants. About nine o'clock, all went to the church, where Mr. Stocking preached, while the women sat in most loving proximity to their strange sisters, handling and commenting on their dresses during the discourse. Mr. Stocking could preach though others talked, and readily raised his voice so as to be heard above the rest. At the close, Priest Abraham, without consulting any one, rose and announced two meetings for the afternoon; one in another church for men, and a second in this for women, who must all come, because the lady from the new world was to preach. So the news flew through the neighboring villages. The good lady called the priest to account for his doings; but he replied, "I knew that they would come if I said that, and yon can preach very well, for your girls told me so." He was greatly disappointed, however, when he found that his notice left him alone to preach to the men, while Mr. Stocking preached to some six hundred women, with half as many children. They were a rude, noisy company, not one of them all caring for the truth; and there was no moment when at least half a dozen voices could not be heard besides the preacher's. When he closed, as many as twenty cried out, "Now let Miss Fiske preach." So he withdrew, and left her to their tender mercies. Her preaching was soon finished. She simply told them, that when she knew their language better, she would come and talk with them, but she could not talk at the same time that they did, for God had given her a very small voice, and her words would no more mingle with theirs than oil and water. They said, "Oil and water never mix; but we will be silent if you will come and preach." Months passed on, and she again visited the village. The women remembered her promise, and hundreds came together; but they did not remember to be silent. As soon as she began, they began; and if she asked them to be quiet, each exhorted her neighbor, at the top of her voice, to be still; and the louder the uproar, of course the louder the reproofs. At length Miss Fiske said, "I cannot say any more, unless you all put your fingers on your mouths." All the fingers went up, and she proceeded: "I have a good story to tell you; but if one takes her finger from her mouth, I cannot tell it." Instantly muzzled voices, all round the church, cried, "Be still, be still, so that we can hear the story!" Some minutes elapsed, and the four hundred women were silent. "Once there was an old woman—I did not know her, nor did my father, and I think my grandfather did not; but he told me—" Here commenced many inquiries about said grandfather; but again the fingers were ordered to their places, and their owners told that they should hear no more about the woman if they talked about the grandfather. "Now, this woman talked in meeting,—I should think she must have been a relative of yours, for ours do not talk in meeting,—and after many reproofs she was forbidden to go to church any more if she continued to do so. She promised very faithfully; but, poor woman, she could not be still; then, as soon as she heard her own voice, she cried out, 'O, I have spoken in meeting. What shall I do? Why, I keep speaking, and I cannot stop.' Now, you are very much like this woman, and as I think you cannot stop, I must." By this time their fingers were pressed closely on their lips, and no one made a reply. Having thus secured silence, Miss Fiske took the New Testament, and read to them of Mary, who, she was sure, never talked in meeting; for if she had, Jesus would not have loved her so much. She talked to them about fifteen minutes more, and prayed with them, and they went away very still and thoughtful.