CHAPTER XVII._Woman and Her Saviour in Persia By a Returned Missionary

FORERUNNERS.

MOUNTAIN GIRLS IN SEMINAKY.--PRAYING SARAH.--RETURN TO THE

MOUNTAINS.--VISIT OF YONAN AND KHAMIS, IN 1850.--OF MR. COAN, 1851--OF

YONAN, AGAIN, 1861.--SARAH'S LETTERS.

But rich as are the benefits conferred on the females of the plain, the

influence of the Seminary is not confined to Persia. It has climbed the

rugged steeps of Kurdistan, and pours into its wild glens and secluded

hamlets the same spiritual blessings. It is delightful to trace the way

in which God has led to results, as yet only beginning to appear, among

the mountain Nestorians.

As the Seminary could not enter the mountains, Providence brought the

mountains to the Seminary. In 1843, Badir Khan Beg sacked and burned

the villages of Tiary, and the homeless fugitives who escaped the sword

fled to the plains of Assyria and Azerbijan. Towards the close of that

year, a miserable group presented themselves at the Seminary door for

charity, asking for the lady who teaches Nestorian girls. The quick eye

of the teacher detected three in the company before her, and replied,

"Silver and gold we have not, but such as we have we will give you--a

home for these children." This sent them away sorrowful, for it was not

what they wanted. But while the parents retired to the shade of the

tall sycamores to debate the matter, the little ones, attracted by

kindness in a stranger, staid with their new friend. By and by the

parents came back, and, falling on the necks of their children, told

them they might stay, till they returned to Tiary. The teacher never

heard a more gentle and subdued "thank you" than this announcement

called forth from those mountain girls. This was the first movement of

the school towards the evangelization of Kurdistan, and it will be seen

how Providence led the Seminary at Seir in the same path.

The girls were taken in, washed, and clothed; and though at first they

knew no more of good manners than of the alphabet, they made

commendable progress in both. Better than that, Sarah and Nazeo became

hopefully pious in the revival of 1846, and Heleneh three years

afterwards.

The last days of the spring term, in 1849, as we have seen, were full

of interest. The teachers did not understand it then, but now they see

that God was preparing his first messengers to the rude mountaineers

for the work before them. Among a company of praying ones, Sarah had

long been known as "the praying Sarah." She was the pupil whom Deacon

Isaac invited to come and pray[1] [Footnote 1: See page 151.] with him;

and the strong man bowed before the simple piety of that mountain girl.

Her mind was not so gifted as many of her associates. She comprehended

truth with difficulty, but she prayed with all prayer and supplication

in the spirit. At this time an unusual spirit of prayer was imparted to

the school. The prospect of vacation, instead of diverting the mind

from devotion, seemed to produce intenser earnestness. The voice of

prayer fell on the ears of the teachers at all hours, except the most

silent watch of the night. After the evening meeting, some spent two

hours in their closets, and others of the older pupils could not leave

till they had prayed with each one in the school alone. On the last

morning of the term, they separated with many tears and fervent

supplications. The quiet of the hour seemed a foretaste of the rest of

heaven. Not a loud voice, heavy step, or harshly shutting door was

heard in all the house. All was so sacredly quiet that the still small

voice might be heard the more distinctly. The teachers sent out the

lambs from the fold with feelings of peculiar anxiety. Some were to go

into families where every soul would gladly undo in them the work of

the Spirit; others to villages where not one heart could enter into

their feelings as the followers of Christ; and as they went forth,

their teachers prayed, from full hearts, that the Shepherd of Israel

would himself be to them for a little sanctuary in the places where

they went.

While their thoughts were on such of their flock as belonged to the

plain, the thoughts of God were on those also whom he was about to send

forth to a life-long separation from these means of grace. As late as

ten o'clock, on the evening after the close of the term, Miss Fiske

heard the voice of prayer for the absent ones, and fearing that the

occupant of the closet was transgressing the laws of health, she

approached the door, intending to enter, and advise her to retire; but

as she listened to her strong crying, with tears, for each of the

school by name, she could not find it in her heart to disturb the

intercessions of Sarah. She was then a great bodily sufferer, but very

patient, and for a long time had not spent less than four hours daily

in her closet. The next day her disease assumed a serious form, and for

more than a week she hovered on the borders of the grave. Several times

she appeared to have drawn her last breath. But though her sick room

seemed to all like the gate of heaven, and though to her the dark

valley was all light, and she longed to embrace the messenger who

should lead her through, it was not her Father's will to call her then.

She was at first disappointed at the prospect of coming back to the

world; yet still she sweetly said, "Thy will be done," as God restored

her to health, with its responsibilities and temptations.

April came, and a scarcity in the plain, occasioned by locusts, drove

the fugitives from Tiary back to their mountains. The teachers hoped

the girls might remain, and besought their parents to allow them to do

so, but in vain. They were only too glad to get their daughters away

from influences which in their blindness they abhorred. But God

intended through these daughters to lay the foundations of many

generations, and build again the old waste places of those mountains.

It was hard for them to go. How could they leave their Christian home,

and the means of grace they had enjoyed so much? It was no less hard

for the teachers to think of those lambs as about to be left at the

mercy of wolves, in rocky glens, so far away that no cry of distress

would ever reach them. Yea, even if those loved ones died, long years

might pass ere their friends could hear of their death. Those were days

of sadness, and communion with God was the only comfort of all, and

especially of Sarah.

On the day of their departure, the whole school came together, in the

room of the teachers, for the parting prayer. All was silent, till the

three asked to go and bid a farewell to their closets. They went, and

only He who seeth in secret knows how they prayed. They returned

weeping. A few words of comfort were uttered, and the teachers

commended them to God. They rose from their knees, but only to kneel

again; for one of the pupils proposed that all who would pledge

themselves to remember their Tiary sisters in every prayer should join

hands around them, commend them to the good Shepherd, and give to him

their pledge. About twenty thus enclosed the departing sisters, and so

they continued in prayer until the last moment. As the dear ones passed

out, they could not speak, they whispered but one word,--"the

promise,"--and so they went. For years after, no prayer was heard

within those walls that did not contain a petition for "blessings on

our Tiary sisters."

Many a time had her teacher noticed the large folio page of Sarah's

Syriac Testament wet with her tears, and after she left, found the

whitewash of the wall in her closet furrowed with the same. It opened

out of the passage behind the door on the left of the engraving. She

did not tell this to the school, lest superstition should attach an

idolatrous sacredness to the place; and yet she could not obliterate

marks that to her own heart were so full of comfort. Sarah had gone but

a little way before she pleaded with her parents to stop, and allow her

to retire a little from the road for prayer.

And so, weeping and praying as they went, these lambs were led into the

dark recesses of a den of lions. We shall see persecution raging,

pitiless as the mountain storm, and long continued. But we shall also

see the Hearer of prayer preserving them unharmed; and if we hear more

from the others than from Sarah, it may be that the revelation of the

answers to her prayers is reserved for that day which shall unfold

displays of grace too glorious for comprehension here.

Nothing was heard from them till October, 1850, when Yonan and Khamis

entered those rocky fastnesses to gather tidings of them. They spent

the first Sabbath of the month in the house of Nazee; but she was

absent. They say in their journal,--

"We preached three times to large assemblies. They brought us Nazee's

Testament to preach from, and seemed accustomed to the sound of the

gospel. In respectful attention to the word, as well as in knowledge,

they were far superior to other villages in Tiary. This we knew was the

result of her teachings. Monday we waited her return. She came about

noon. How can we express the joy of that meeting! We spent another

night there, the most of it in sweet Christian conversation with Nazee.

We were surprised at the respect shown to her, and the restraint felt

in her presence. If any chanced to swear, he at once went and asked

pardon for thus injuring her feelings. Tuesday we had to leave, lest we

should be detained by the snow till spring. We longed to pray with her

before we left, but custom here forbade it; yet she accompanied us a

little on our way, which gave as an opportunity to mingle our prayers

and tears together. As we bade her farewell, she said, weeping, 'Here

is my love for my teachers, for my sisters in the school, for the

missionaries, their children, and all that know me. Tell them to

remember me in their prayers, that God may keep me in this place of

temptation.' We left her looking after us, and wiping away her tears,

till we were out of sight.

"We went that day to the village of the other two. As soon as Heleneh

saw us, she began to weep, thinking of the past. Sarah we did not see;

she was in another village, very anxious to come, but her wicked

husband, whom she had been forced to marry, would not permit it. We

spent the night with Heleneh, and preached to a large company. Next

morning we left, and she too, with tears, begged that all her friends

in Oroomiah would remember her in their prayers."

Was Sarah prevented from seeing her Christian friends, that God might

show hereafter how, without even that help, he could answer the prayers

of others for her, and her own?

The next we hear of them is through Mr. Coan, who visited Tiary in

August, 1851. The writer can understand his account of crossing the

Zab, as the bridge was in the same condition when he crossed it with

the late Dr. Azariah Smith, August 31st, 1844. But hear Mr. Coan:--

"A toilsome day, over the roughest of roads, brought us opposite

Chumba. The bridge had been swept away, and fording such a torrent was

impossible. Two long poplar trees spanned the flood; and we crossed on

them, bending under us at every step. Nazee was on the bank, ready to

greet us. After a few words of salutation and kind inquiry, she

hastened to prepare a place for us; and while doing this, the malik

took us to his house. She was much disappointed, but followed, anxious

to treasure up every word. After supper, we spoke long to the company

assembled on the roof. It was affecting to see how eagerly she

listened. She staid after the rest, for religious conversation, till

near midnight, when she apologized for keeping us up so late. She is

cruelly persecuted by her wicked mother and ungodly neighbors; for she

is a shining light, by which the dark deeds of the wicked are reproved;

and hence their hatred. When Mar Shimon's attendants come, they treat

her with wanton cruelty. Some friends in America had sent her several

articles of clothing; but her neighbors came together and tore them in

pieces before her eyes. She bore it meekly, and only prayed for them.

She expected fresh insults because of our visit, but prayed that

nothing might separate her from the love of Christ. Long before day,

she again sought to improve every moment for Christian conversation. We

tried to comfort her: and her eyes filled with tears of gratitude. She

received a copy of the Gospels with joy. When we left, she followed us,

lonely and sad, to the river side. I opened her Testament, and pointed

to Matt. xi. 28: 'Come unto me, all ye that labor, and are heavy

laden;' but her voice choked, and tears prevented her reading. We

kneeled by the roaring Zab, and in broken accents commended her to Him

who will keep her, for his promise is sure."

For ten long years we hear nothing of either of the three; till, in

September, 1861, Yonan--the same who found them in 1850--and another

preacher visited the mountains. In a village of Tiary, some two

thousand people were keeping the feast of the cross--eating, drinking,

dancing, and carousing. They sat down among the quietest of the crowd.

Heleneh came up and saluted them. Though she had not seen her teacher

for eleven years, she recognized him at once. They talked from morning

till near sunset. As they spoke of old friends, Yonan asked, "Heleneh,

do you remember where our Lord was crucified?" "On Calvary. Can I

forget _Calvary?_" as though grieved that he should think she could

forget. Yonan gave her a kerchief for the head, saying, "Take this, and

remember me by it." "Shall I remember you by this?" was the reply. "I

will remember you in my prayers." "Do you pray, Heleneh?"--She was the

last one converted, and left Oroomiah soon after her conversion; so he

wanted to know whether she still held on her Christian way.--"Always,"

was the answer. They sought a place to pray together; and though they

might not go away alone, yet there, in sight, but not in hearing of the

crowd, they approached the mercy seat, the spectators little dreaming

of the nature of their intercourse. It was delightful to find that she

had not forgotten the language or the spirit of devotion.

The accompanying sketch of a Tiary girl will show how the kerchief is

worn. It also exhibits the mode of using the Oriental spindle, which is

probably a facsimile of the article mentioned by Solomon. (Prov. xxxi.

19.)

[Illustration: A TIARY GIRL]

The other two were not at the feast; so, next day, they left to seek

them at their homes. Nazee was absent, but came home in the morning--a

widow with two children. She was delighted, and even her children

seemed to recognize in the strangers their mother's friends. She was

poor; her house had been burned, and almost all it contained; but a

stone was on her Testament, and that was saved. They talked long with

her, and gave her a copy of the Rays of Light (the monthly periodical

issued by the mission), and a pencil to write to her friends. She gave

them letters written ten years before, which she had penned in secret,

and carried about with her ever since, waiting an opportunity to send

them.

The next day, another long journey brought them to the home of Sarah;

she saw them coming and hastened to meet them; but that very night she

had to leave for a distant village: yet not till in answer to prayer

they had an opportunity to pray together; and the friends left that

village happy; for, as Yonan said, they "found her, like the others,

having the love of our Christ in her heart."

That solitary disciple, through those long years of seclusion, never

hearing the voice of Christian fellowship, or knowing whether her pious

friends were alive, or if her sisters still remembered their pledge,

was yet kept of God according to his promise; and it is interesting to

see that she does not once allude to her persecutions in her letters,

but only solicits the prayers of her friends for her relatives and

neighbors; and then, while both Mr. Coan and her teacher testify to her

usefulness, with what humility does she allude to herself, and "the

very little she has made known of the Lord Jesus Christ."

Extracts from the letters that she kept so long here follow. The first,

to friends in Middlebury, Vermont, is dated September, 1851, and reads

thus:--

"To you, dear friends, I write a letter unworthy and imperfect, in

which I make known to you my lost condition and my present abode. Know

ye that a little more than two years ago I left the Seminary, and came

with my friends to our country. I did not wish to leave so soon, for I

had learned but very imperfectly what the Scriptures teach about our

Lord Jesus Christ. But my mother was not willing I should remain, for

her heart is yet hard and dark. Know, then, dear sisters in Christ, I

dwell in Tiary, in the village of Chumba, about six days' journey from

Oroomiah. Again, though so far away, know ye, that your letter reached

me in May. It was translated and sent to me by Mr. Perkins, our beloved

father, whom we are unworthy to call such. My dear sisters, when I took

your letter in my hands and read, my heart longed to fly and sit down

by you, and behold your faces in the body; but I said, "The will of the

Lord, not mine, be done." When I look within myself, and see not a

place worthy to cherish gratitude to God for his great mercy and grace,

which he hath wrought for us, sinful and unworthy, I liken myself to

the slothful servant, who did not the will of his Lord. Yet, O, my

sisters, though I have not done the will of my Saviour, I have hope in

him that I shall do it, and serve him henceforth so long as I am in

this world--fleeting as a dream in the night.

Though our country has been, in time past, greatly afflicted by the

Koords, yet God has spared many of us, who had sinned and trodden under

our feet the blood of his holy Son. But do not marvel that we have

sorrow from the scourge God brought upon us for our sins. No. Still

every day we provoke our Maker more and more. Then ought we not to

mourn over this people, lost and fallen under the yoke of Satan? For

should you go through all Tiary, you would not find one soul that fears

the Lord, but all bound in fetters not to be loosed. If God do not

loose them, quickly will they perish; and not this country only, but

many others, sit under the shadow of death and walk in darkness, going

to destruction. Then, dear sisters, though unworthy, we should increase

our painful efforts, and our prayers to God, that speedily his kingdom

may come and his will be done on earth as it is done in heaven, that

all regions may know him and praise him forever. Beloved sisters, I am

unworthy to thank you, and still more to thank God, who has disposed

you to show such kindness to my poor body, and yet more to my perishing

soul, with words so gentle and full of love; yet greatly do I thank you.

Again, dear friends, I have one request to make--that every time you

bow before God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and of all who

love him, you will remember me in your prayers, for I am very needy,

and there is great danger that my soul will perish forever. Remember

also my mother, and all my friends, sinners, and on their way to

destruction. Know ye, further, that I conceal the writing of this

because they would not allow me openly to write, for they are very

foolish and benighted. Accept, then, this poor letter, as a token of

friendship and gratitude, in the love of our Lord Jesus Christ.

From your unworthy and sinful sister,

NAZRE, of Tiary. Amen.

The following are extracts from another letter to the same persons:--

"Though we are far from each other in this evil world, yet I hope that

our Lord Jesus Christ will make us pure from sin, and worthy of his

kingdom, where we shall see each other with that light which shall not

end, in the joy of the holy angels. Ah, my friends, how great are our

mercies and we how unworthy, but especially I!--unworthy of the gift of

the gospel of God, which I have received, that I might make it known to

lost souls around me. But know ye, very little have I made known about

our Lord Jesus Christ. Now, dear friends, I desire to speak of him to

lost souls, in the imperfection of my mind. But many do not desire even

to hear of the sound doctrine of the Lord Jesus Christ, and yet think

to gain heaven, while they practise in this world according to their

wicked desires. And for this reason, O my sisters, I beseech you that

you will remember this people, lost and fallen under the snares of

Satan; especially my mother, and brother, and all my friends. But more

especially, I beseech you to remember me, a sinner, in your prayers,

every time that you bow the knee before God, the Father of our Lord

Jesus Christ, and the Father of all who fear him, and listen to his

commandments."

Accompanying these was the following to Dr. Perkins, dated October 3d,

1851:--

"To you, O my spiritual father, Mr. Perkins, I presume to send two

letters, for friends in Middlebury. If you please, you will translate

them, and send them; but I fear that they will give you much trouble.

"Again, you wrote me in your letter, that I should teach children to

read. Now, I am very needy myself of instruction. Yet I desire that

that might be my employment. But that is a very difficult matter among

such a people, of whom you have heard that although there may be here

and there one who would walk in this way, yet there is a stone of

stumbling and a rock of offence therein; so that every one that goeth

in it, his foot stumbleth, and quickly he turns back.

"Again, O friend beloved, though I am unworthy to call you such, yet I

beseech you that you remember me always in your prayers. I know that

you do remember me, but I desire that you remember me more, for I

greatly fear for my perishing soul. Greatly do I desire to see you once