Nestorian families have been already described in part, but the absence of the religious element in them can hardly be realized by Christians here. They did not believe that a child was possessed of a soul until it was forty days old. This belief affected all their feelings towards children, and their custom of burying unbaptized infants outside of their cemeteries did not serve to correct such impressions.
Family registers were unknown. In 1835, probably not five Nestorians could tell their birthday, and but few knew in what year they were born. Miss Fiske kept a list of all the children, which was read at every meeting; but at first she could record the birth of only the very youngest. The deceased children were written down in a separate page, and it was sad to see how much they exceeded the number of the living. One childless mother, who had buried eleven, was always present; for she said she wanted to pray for the children of others, though her own were not. They assembled in Miss Fiske's room, sometimes to the number of thirty, with, such of their little ones as were too small to attend the other meeting, and, seated on the floor around her, were never more happy than when telling their troubles, asking questions, and receiving instructions about family duties, much more specific than could be given on other occasions. Now and then she read to them, from English books, facts and truths adapted to their needs. One good man in Fairhaven, Connecticut, who had heard of this, sent a complete set of the Mother's Magazine, to be used in that way. So interested were they, that many of them walked regularly three miles and back again, under a burning sun, to enjoy these gatherings; and from a monthly, it had to be changed to a weekly meeting. It sometimes lasted three hours, but never seemed to them too long; and, commenced in 1850, it is still kept up with as much regularity as Miss Rice's many other duties will allow. It would be interesting to dwell on its results; but a single incident may suffice. One mother, whose husband was not a Christian, was very regular in private devotion, but thought she could not offer prayer in the family, till her husband became dangerously sick, when, in the agony of her intercession for him, she vowed that, if God would spare him, she would establish family prayer. So, as soon as he was able to bear it, she gathered her children around his bed, and after they had read the first chapter of Matthew, verse about, she led in prayer, and so went on reading the New Testament in the morning and the Old Testament in the evening, till she got through with the whole of the former, before any one of the missionaries knew that she had commenced.
The teachers of the Seminary enjoyed very much the visits of the early inquirers from Geog Tapa, in the summer of 1845, most of whom became hopefully pious the following winter. Let us look in on one visit made towards the end of May. A pupil announces that two women below wish to see Miss Fiske; and a middle-aged stranger is shown into her room. In answer to the usual inquiry, "From whence do you come?" she replies, "I have come from Geog Tapa, for I have heard that you have repented, and I want to know about it." She has walked six miles on purpose to make the inquiry. "I wish that you, too, had repented," calls forth the reply, "Alas, I have not! I am on my way to destruction." Feeling that the Bible was the safest guide for such an inquirer, Miss Fiske reads appropriate portions, explaining as she reads. The visitor shows a great deal of Bible knowledge for one who cannot read, indicating that she had not been inattentive to the faithful instructions of Priest Abraham and Deacon John, and her questions are numerous and intensely practical. Among other things, she asked, "Is it true, that for one sin Adam and Eve were cast out of Eden?" and on being told that it was so, "There," said she, turning to the unconcerned neighbor, who had come with her, "do you hear that? What will become of you and me, who have sinned so often?" At length prayer was proposed, to which she eagerly and tearfully assented; and though the tongue that commended her to Jesus, in that strange language, might have faltered, the heart did not share in the embarrassment. The woman, like the first inquirer, repeated every word of the prayer in a low whisper, as though unwilling to lose a single syllable. The conversation was then resumed till it was interrupted by the entrance of some of the pupils on business. "Have you finished?" was the woman's eager inquiry. "I wish very much to hear more of these things." Her companion now begged her to go home. "No," was the kind reply; "you may go, but I must stay here to prayers." Evening prayers were earlier than usual that evening for her sake, but still she lingered. She had not yet found rest. Selby, one of Mrs. Grant's pupils, then in the Seminary, now conversed with her; and as there seemed to be a sympathy between them (Selby had recently found peace in believing), they were left by themselves. After supper, Selby remained with her an hour or more, that they might pray together, till it was quite dark, and her friends had sent for her repeatedly. She left, having first begged permission to come in to morning prayers. Morning came, and before sunrise she was again listening intently to the reading of the Word, and, after devotions, left for home, earnestly begging Miss Fiske to come and spend a week in Geog Tapa.
The Seminary was dismissed June 5th. On that day, several hundreds of the parents and friends of the pupils, in both Seminaries, were invited to a simple entertainment, got up in native style. The gentlemen of the mission ate in one room, with the men and boys, and the ladies in another, with their own sex. The confidence and kind feeling manifested by all towards the school was very gratifying. After dinner, the whole company, seated in the court, listened to an address from Mr. Holladay, then about to return home. He spoke to parents and children on their duties, privileges, and responsibilities: towards the close, he spoke of the almost certainty of never meeting them again till the judgment, and bade them an affectionate farewell. His utterance was often choked, and his hearers wept; and well they might, for in him they parted with a faithful friend. During the exercises, the members of the two schools sang, twice, to the great gratification of their friends.
That evening most of the pupils went home, all but a few of the girls carrying with them a copy of the four Gospels, in modern Syriac, which they had paid for with their needles.
Miss Fiske left for Geog Tapa on the 14th of June with Mr. Stocking, reaching that place as the people were coming out from evening prayers in the church. The first to welcome them were six pupils, residents in the village, who greeted their teacher with a hearty good will. Next to them came Pareza, the inquirer, changed somewhat in her feelings, but with no loss of religious interest. John, too, was there (the native pastor): he had been busy, day and night, instructing the people, and had taken special care of the pupils, that they might both improve themselves and exert a good influence on others. When Mr. Stocking asked him about matters in the village, "O sir," said he, "it is a very good time here now; very many love to hear the truth; their hearts are very open. O sir, I have very much hope!" After supper, the villagers poured into the room for a meeting, to the number of one hundred, while some thirty or forty more were unable to get in. This was all the more welcome, as no notice whatever had been given. It was a clear moonlight evening, and the groups outside were distinctly visible, through the latticed side of the room. John commenced with an earnest prayer for a blessing on the evening; asking, in his simplicity, that "the people might run after the word like sheep after salt"—a strange expression to us, but most appropriate and striking there. Fixed attention was given to Mr. Stocking's discourse: then John, who feared that those around the door had not been fed, spoke to them of Zaccheus. "The crowd about him," said he, "did not know his feelings; but Jesus knew them, and loved him; and so, mothers and sisters"—they, as an inferior class, had to take the lowest places while the men were within—"if you have come here to-night with a broken heart, though we have not seen you, Jesus has." He then, with Miss Fiske's pupils, sung a hymn, and the meeting closed. Still, many women lingered; some sitting down by Miss Fiske, and others in little groups, talking over what they had heard; very different from previous visits, when dress and such things were the most interesting themes of conversation. This was the first meeting in the village in which the missionaries noticed much religious interest.
Early in the morning, Miss Fiske's pupils were gathered together for a Bible class. The women soon filled the room. The exercise continued all the forenoon, simply because it could not be closed. It was impossible to send away unfed those who hungered for the word. Among the women were a few men, one of them the husband of the inquirer. He was asked, "Have you and your wife chosen the good part?" He covered his face for a moment; the tears rolled down his cheeks; and then he said, "By the grace of God, I hope we have." His heart was too full to say more.
Soon after noon, Mr. Stocking preached in the church, on the barren fig tree, to a crowded assembly. The heat and the multitude made the place very uncomfortable, but the interest deepened till the close. As soon as they were out of the church, many women crowded around Miss Fiske, some of whom she could look on as truly pious, and more as thoughtful. One, who was the first to be awakened about a year before, seemed now a growing Christian. On leaving, she said, "Perhaps I shall not see you again till I meet you in heaven." She seemed to be looking forward with humble hope to a sinless home. With others, she had encountered much opposition from her family and friends. She has since entered into rest.
On the 19th, Selby visited Miss Fiske, and in answer to a question about a place for private devotion, "O, yes," said she, "there is a deep hole under our house, like a cellar, and there I go every day to pray."
A brief account of her may not here be out of place. In 1830, when she was an infant in her mother's arms, the cholera in five days carried her father and five of his household to the grave. In 1838, she was one of the first pupils of Mrs. Grant. She learned more rapidly than the rest, and yet was so amiable that she was loved by those whom she excelled. Still, she was a stranger to God, and she felt it. When thirteen years of age, her brother took her out of school, replying to her earnest pleadings, to be allowed to remain, "You have been there already too long." At the same time she was forced to marry a boy twelve years of age, with whom she had never spoken. For days previously, tears were her meat and drink; nor was she the only one that wept. After this, the missionaries seldom saw her, till, one cold Sabbath in the winter of 1844-45, a girl entered the chapel, wrapped, as brides usually are, in a large, white sheet. She was not recognized, of course, till her mother led her forward, saying, "I have brought Selby here to-day to listen to the words of God; she loves them and you very much." She was feeble and much depressed, and expressed a strong desire to return to school. Her father-in-law consented to her teaching in the primary department, on condition that her husband was received into the Boys' Seminary, which was done. She now manifested much interest in religion, and one day wept much, and inclined to be alone. The next evening, she went to Miss Fiske, distressed with a sense of sin. Said she, "I have lied, and stolen, and sworn; nor that only, but have lived so long without once loving my kind, heavenly Father! When I felt sadly about dying at home, I thought then only of hell; but now my sins—O, how many they are! I never knew before that I was such a sinner." The next day, at her father-in-law's request, she was to spend the Sabbath at home. She was very loath to go, but it was not thought best to try to retain her, and she went. There she found neither closet nor Christian friend, and the house was full of guests from morning till night, whom, she was required to entertain. Yet in the morning she returned with even increased interest in spiritual things. Said she, "Two or three times I was left alone for a moment, and then I tried to commit my soul to my Saviour." Those few moments she seemed to value above all price. Not long after, she found peace in Jesus, who became her chosen theme. No wonder she loved to point others also to the Lamb of God, and lead them to the mercy seat.