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.
Miss Fiske gave this account to the writer, with no idea that he would
print it. But he thinks--and the reader will doubtless agree with
him--that in no other way could he convey so vivid an idea of woman as
she was in Persia, or the tact needed to secure a first hearing for the
truth. Miss Fiske was often called to deal with just such rude
assemblages, and by varied methods she generally succeeded in securing
attention. In subsequent visits to Ardishai the number of hearers was
never again so large; but they came together from better motives, and,
as we shall see, not without the blessing of the Lord. In March, 1850,
Miss Rice met nearly three hundred women in the same church, some of
them awakened, and a few already hopefully pious.