LABORERS IN THE MOUNTAINS.
LETTER OF BADAL.--ACCOUNT OF HANNAH.--THE PIT.--'LETTER OF GULY AND
YOHANAN.--ACCOUNT OF SARAH.--LETTERS OF OSHANA.--LETTERS AND JOURNAL OF
SARAH.--LETTER FKOM AMADIA.--CONFERENCE OF NATIVE HELPERS.
Besides these, the Seminary has sent up other laborers into the same
field. At the monthly concert in Oroomiah, June, 1858, there were
present four graduates, with their husbands, either going there for the
first time, or returning to resume their labors. Guly, the wife of
Yohanan, who had already spent one year in little Jeloo, was now about
to return there with her husband. Nargis, the wife of Khamis, who had
spent the winter laboring alone in the vicinity of Amadia, on the
Turkish side of the mountains, was now with him, going back to Gawar.
Hannah, the wife of Badal, who had sent her husband, three days after
marriage, to his winter's campaign in the same region, was now
accompanying him to the chosen field of his labors; and Eneya, the wife
of Shlemon, his associate, was also expecting to leave in a few days.
By the way of introducing the reader to one of these laborers, we
subjoin a letter from Badal to Miss Fiske, dated December 12th, 1859.
It is a good specimen of Oriental style.
"Writing to you brings to mind many sweet conversations with you.
Dwelling on them, my mind is sad. My sighs rise like the swelling
stream, and almost carry me away, especially when I look at your
garden, where you labored with so much skill to graft in these wild
olive plants, cutting off your sleep with watchings by night, that they
should not be rooted up by the desert wind. Thus you watched them, till
they became as noble forest trees that not even the avalanche can
overturn. Your garden, now, not only gives a shade pleasant to the
traveller, but it yields sweet fruits; clouds rise from it that give us
the early and the latter rain; they empty themselves,--the plain
rejoices, and the barren places become verdant. Yes, the vine that you
planted has budded, and blossomed, and gives of its fruit to every
passer by. Come to us, our beloved, open the door of your garden, that
the traveller may enter in and be refreshed. You have left many
pleasant remembrances in the work of your hands. On every side you have
left a picture for our eyes, and the skilful work of your hands (his
wife), lo, and behold! it is with me. I cannot be silent. My voice
shall be heard as the turtle's; 'Behold, your feet are within my doors,
and your counsels are ever in my family.' The Lord reward you for these
pupils, that you have taught to be patient and persevering, so that
they truly help us in the work of life.
"Beloved, give my love to your friends, and ask them, when they go up
to Shiloh to offer sacrifice, to place me in the censer of their
prayers.
"We are troubled that as yet we know not the Lord's thoughts concerning
you,--whether he will allow you to meet your flock again, or says to
you as to Daniel, 'Thou shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the end of
the days.' Like Moses, you are gathered to your fathers; but Miss Rice
stands like Joshua, commanding the sun not to go down till the sword of
the gospel shall triumph. We thank the Lord that she is still a judge
in Israel, so that as yet the sceptre has not departed from Judah.
"Your affectionate friend, BADAL."
There are some things about Hannah, and the work of divine grace in
her, that demand grateful record.
She was the daughter of one of the most intelligent and wealthy
Nestorians, who placed her in the Seminary as early as 1845. She was
then quite small, and the teacher objected very much to taking her; but
paternal importunity prevailed. As soon as her father turned to go, she
began to scream; but he left, saying she must remain, and "learn
wisdom." The kind teacher took her in her lap to soothe her; but it was
of no use; her bleeding hands bore the marks of the nails of her new
protegée for weeks. She called for her father, but he was intentionally
out of hearing.
The child remained, but learned wisdom very slowly. She had her fits of
rage so often, that she was sent home sometimes for weeks, and again
for months. She made little progress, either in study or other good,
till the winter of 1850, when she seemed to begin to love the truth;
yet, though her general deportment was correct, she often showed such a
determined will, that her instructors feared she had never said from
the heart, "Not my will, but thine," and often told her that, if she
was a Christian, God would, in love, subdue that will. She could not
feel her need of this, and thought that they required too much of her.
So they were obliged to leave her with God, and he cared for her in an
unusual way. The mission premises had formerly been occupied by an
Oriental bath; and here and there were old pits, once used for carrying
off the water, but now covered up, so that no one knew where they were.
One evening Miss Fiske called the girls together, and told them some
things she wished they would refrain from. They promised compliance,
and went out; but hardly had they gone before their teacher heard the
cry, "Hannah is in the well!" She ran there, but all was right. Then
they led her to an opening just before the back door, saying, "The
earth opened and swallowed her up." The covering of one of the pits had
given way, and she had fallen perhaps twenty feet below the surface.
Fortunately, as in the case of Joseph, there was no water in the pit,
and in a few days she was able to resume her place in school, but much
more gentle and subdued than ever before. The change was marked by all.
Months after, in a private interview with her teacher, she gave an
account of the whole matter. She said the girls went out, most of them
saying, "We will obey our teachers;" but she, stamping her foot, said,
"I did right before, and I shall do so again." With these words on her
lips, she sunk into the earth. At first she did not know what had
happened, but remembered all that had been said, and felt that God was
dealing with her. Lying there helpless and bruised at the bottom of the
pit, she made a solemn vow to God, "Never again my will." From that
time she was a most lovely example of all that was gentle. She seemed
to give up every thing, and "bear all things." Her father saw the
change, and one day said to her teachers, "I am not a Christian; but
Hannah knows nothing but God's will. If she should die now, I should
know she was with Christ, she is so like him." Her Christian character
developed beautifully; the school learned of her to be Christ-like. She
longed to do good, and was ready to make any sacrifice for the good of
souls. When Badal sought her hand from her father, the latter called
her, and said, "Hannah, Badal the son of the herdsman, wants you to go
to the mountains with him, and wants you to live here with him. It
shall be as you say." She replied very meekly, "I wish to suffer with
the people of God. I choose to go with Badal;" and June 8th, 1858, she
left for her mountain home.
The parting prayer meeting with those four girls, going as missionaries
to the mountains, was one of the pleasantest memories that Miss Fiske
carried away from Oroomiah. She left soon after, but often heard from
Hannah and her companions that she was happy in her life of privation
for Jesus' sake, and did what she could. She suffered, however, from
the change, and was advised to visit Oroomiah for her health. It was
hoped she might soon recover; but she went only to leave her sweet
testimony to the blessedness of knowing no will but God's, and then go
home. She sent the following messages to Miss Fiske from her dying bed:
"I love to have God do just as he pleases. I thank you for all your
love, and especially for showing me my Saviour." She died in December,
1860.
Having given herself to Missionary work among the mountains, it is
interesting to know that her little property also went to the same
object. In the remarkable revival of benevolence, in Oroomiah, in the
spring of 1861, her brother gave her inheritance, which had fallen to
him, to sustain laborers in the mountains: thus, after her life had
been laid down in the work, all her living went to carry it on.
Let Guly introduce herself to the reader by giving her own account of
her conversion, in 1856:--
MY DEAR SUPERINTENDENT, MISS FISKE: I wish now, as far as I can, to
describe to you my spiritual state. The first four weeks of the revival
I did not realize that I was lost, but afterwards was more burdened; my
sins were round about me like dark clouds. One night I went to Miss
Rice to have her pray with me. I did not know how to find Christ. She
told me; yet all that night I saw no light, but only darkness. I was
almost in despair, yet felt that this was from Satan. In the morning
the sun rose pleasantly, but it was as night to me; for I knew that I
had no portion in God. So I continued all that day. I could not read in
my class, but went to my room, and vowed not to leave it till I had
some token that Christ was mine. I brought nothing in my hands save my
sins, which were like mountains. I remembered that scripture, "Though
your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;" and I
recalled the promises of God, and that no other could pardon me. With
earnest longing, I laid my soul into the hands of Jesus. I heartily
covenanted to serve him all my life, and sought help from him in
prayer. Then suddenly I saw light, as if he were at my side; and I did
not wish to rise from my knees, so blessed was that communion. From
that time I had hope, but sometimes fear I may be deceived. Yet daily I
find Christ more and more precious. Though old Adam is not dead, yet in
the strength of God I will resist him.
Yes, my dear mother in Christ, my guide to the cross, my desire is to
please God, and live for him, not for myself. I cannot say that I shall
never sin, for I am weak, and my foe is strong; but I will seek help
from Him who was tempted, and can succor me when tempted.
I am most thankful to you that you have been the means of my salvation,
and can never forget your love till my tongue is silent in the grave.
Your affectionate GULY, of Seir.
She and her husband, Yohanan, have labored in the mountains ever since
their marriage. He writes to Miss Fiske in February, 1861,--
"I have not forgotten your pleasant love, and trust I never shall until
I die. I hope that, with all your friends here, I shall see you again.
As our joy is not full in your absence, may you not rest till you
return.
"We are now in Vizierawa of Gawar; for the people of Ishtazin,
instigated by Mar Shimon, have cast us out. I had hoped to go to
Amadia, but was robbed and wounded, in the autumn, by the Koords; and
before I could recover my goods, it was too late to go so far. So I
remain here; and, thanks to God, our labor in the gospel is more
pleasant than ever. Some of the men wish to hear the whole will of God;
and women and girls come to Guly to hear his words. A few children also
are constant in learning to read. The work of God prospers this year in
Gawar, and the laborers are more numerous and more faithful."
In estimating the zeal and self-denial of these Nestorian missionaries,
it should be borne in mind that our missionaries there, think it
requires as much self-denial for a native of Oroomiah to go to the
mountains, as for an American to go to Oroomiah; and according to the
testimony of a native observer, the married graduates of the Seminary,
in the mountains, are centres of light in that great sea of darkness.
Besides those already mentioned, Oshana and Sarah, with Shlemon and
Eneya, are laboring in Amadia. This Sarah is daughter of Priest
Abraham, of Geog Tapa, and was one of the earliest pupils of the
Seminary. When Deacon Isaac broke it up, in 1844, she was the only
pupil who remained. She was hopefully converted in 1846, and while in
the Seminary was supported by the Sabbath school in Owego, New York.
In 1849, it was proposed that her father labor in Ardishai, one of the
darkest and most wicked villages of the plain, as one might expect the
home of the notorious Mar Gabriel would be. Great opposition was made
by the people to his coming among them; and his own wife--not then
converted--did much to hinder his going; but Sarah did all in her power
to encourage him; and a letter of hers on the subject decided him to
go. She rejoiced to give up her friends, her pleasant home, and even
her privileges, that he might labor in that unpromising field. Nor was
she by any means idle. She spent all her vacations there, laboring with
much acceptance and success; and after she graduated, in 1850, besides
her day school through the week, she had a Bible class on the Sabbath,
with the women; and on Friday, also, she sent out her pupils, in the
afternoon, to invite their mothers and other women to a meeting she
held with them in the evening. She thus acquired great influence, and
led several to the Saviour. Her labors were very systematic. She had a
plan for conversing personally with one pupil each day, and was noted
for her tact and success in efforts with individuals. Others might act
from impulse, and soon tire; but hers is an activity controlled by
principle, and therefore uniform and enduring. Very faithful in
admonition when admonition is required, she is at the same time noted
for gentleness, and thus expresses to Miss Fiske her delight in
laboring for Christ: "Separated from Christian friends, I am sometimes
sad; but I am not greater than my Master, who left the holy society of
heaven to come to earth, and I am glad for a corner where I may labor
for such a Master. Come and spend a Sabbath here if you can; if not,
pray much and often for these poor women." Again speaking of her
school, she says, "It is the goodness of God that gives me these little
girls. Pray for them. I see indications that they will be lovers of the
Lord. Forty or fifty of the women come to meeting, and twenty-two are
willing to receive the truth." She was accustomed to study the Bible
with her father, and in that way also aided him in his labors.
But it is time to bring forward her husband, in letters which open up a
new department of usefulness, and illustrate the meaning of Mar
Yohanan, when he brought her first pupils to Miss Fiske, and said, "No
man take them from you." The truth was, that the same parents, who at
first could not trust their daughters in the Seminary for a single
night, were now unwilling that they should be united to a husband who
did not commend himself to its teachers as a suitable companion for
their pupils. But let Oshana speak:--
HONORED LADY, MISS FISKE: I have a petition to lay before your zeal,
which is active in doing good to all poor insignificant ones like me.
Dear lady, whose love is like the waters of the Nile, and spreads more
than they; for it reaches the sons of the mountains of Kurdistan, as
well as those of the plain. I am venturing to trouble you more than
ever before. This summer, when I went to my country (Tehoma), my mother
and uncles, who greatly love me, with a natural love, beset me to marry
one of the daughters of my country, whomsoever I should please; but I
made known to them that I wished, if possible, to take one of the
pupils of your school, for I said to them, "If I take one of these who
are so wicked, ignorant, immodest, and disorderly, they will embitter
my life;"' I entreated of them not to put this yoke of iron on my neck.
They listened a little to my petition, from the mercy of God, but made
me promise that if it should reach my hand, I would marry this winter.
The girl on whom I have placed my eye, to take her, is Sarah; because
she has the "fear of God, which is the beginning of wisdom," and she
has been brought up in all the graces of Christianity, and has well
learned the holy doctrines; and in the fear of God, and the knowledge
she has acquired, she can help me, and strengthen me, in the work of
God, on which I have placed my heart for life.
And now, to whom shall I look to help me in this matter? I will look to
God, the Lord of heaven and earth. But he works by instruments. Then to
whom shall I look, as the instrument to do this work? I am a stranger,
poor, and without a name here. My relatives are far away. If I have
friends in Oroomiah, they cannot do this kindness for me. If I remain
silent, silence alone shall I see. Now, my lady, I look to you for
help; and with confidence shall I do so more than I should to my
parents; for you have guided me and my sister better than any
Nestorians have guided their children. Yes, by your hand God will
supply my need. Now do as you think proper. From your unworthy
OSHANA.
P.S. The other letter (enclosed) is for Sarah, and on this subject.
Some time after he was engaged to her, she was very sick, when he wrote
as follows; and the reader will notice that the "honored lady" gives
place to
DEAR MOTHER, AND NOURISHER OF SARAH: I have no friend in whose
pleasant, pure love I can delight as in Sarah, and she is now wasting
away on a bed of sickness. My heart is very heavy with sorrow on her
account. Yes, I am so borne down with trouble, that for three days my
tears have not been stayed. I do not say this to boast of my love. I
owe her all this. I have a petition to make; which is, that you will do
all you can for Sarah. But I need not ask this, for I am confident that
your kindness, will lead you to do, and cause to be done, all that can
be done for her. But will you not let me know whether her sickness
increases or diminishes?--if it increases, that my sighs and tears may
increase in pleading before the Lord for mercy, and if it diminishes,
that my thanksgivings may increase before our merciful Father in heaven.
Dear mother, if it is the will of our Father in heaven to take Sarah to
the upper mansions,--though I shall be comforted on account of her
being saved from all the bitter misery of this world, and her blessed
rest with the Saviour, where she can praise his love with her pleasant
voice, joined with the sweet songs of angels,--still it will be hard
for me. If I live after she has gone, God forbid that I behold her
dust, and not long to be her companion in heaven. Your unworthy
OSHANA.
Our next letter is from Sarah to Miss Fiske, written at Seir, in 1859,
more than two years after her marriage, and gives a good idea of her
Christian spirit:--
BELOVED: The good news that you gave us of the revivals in your
country, rouses our hearts to warmer zeal. Shall we not also prepare
the way of the Lord? We know, by the gracious visits of God here this
winter, that Christians there are ever praying for our poor people. For
we hear from the preachers who come up to the concert every month, that
the work of the Lord goes forward in the villages of the plain, and
also in the mountains.
Here in Seir, the good work began among the women. I hear them say,
"Though we have had revivals before, we have never seen a year like
this, when the words of God had such deep effect." Mrs. Cochran and I
have good meetings with these women. Our congregations make glad the
Christian heart, and I am particularly happy in laboring for them, one
by one. A portion of them, with tearful eyes, are covenanting to be the
Lord's. We ask the Lord to strengthen them in their covenant, and we
entreat of you and of your friends to pray for them.
Our Sabbath schools are very pleasant. Mr. Cochran will tell you how
the work goes forward. Mrs. Cochran has a class of women, and so have
I. Last Sabbath Mr. Cochran read one of your letters to the
congregation, and we learned from it how the work of the Lord goes
forward in your blessed churches. We praised the Lord, and then we
entreated him to bless our churches, and make them more spiritual, for
we are confident that his grace is sufficient for us all.
She visited Tehoma, in May, two months after the date of the preceding,
with her husband, Oshana, and two little children, and gives the
following account of their journey:--
"Through the favor of our heavenly Father, I have made a journey into
these mountains, rejoicing in the opportunity to labor for my people. I
am very happy that my father and friends brought me on my way in
willingness of soul. From the day that I left my own country, in every
place that I have entered, until now, my heart has been excited to
praise my Guide and my Deliverer, and I have also been grateful to my
teachers who brought me to labor in a desolate vineyard, joyfully, I,
who am so weak, and such a great sinner. In all the various
circumstances in which I have been, your counsels have been of great
benefit to me.
"I think you will be glad to know that the gospel door is wide open
here. You and your friends will pray that the Lord of the harvest would
send forth laborers into his harvest.
"We left the city of Oroomiah, May 6th. We were ten souls--Hormezd, of
Aliawa, Sagoo, of Geog Tapa, Matlub, the Tehomian, Guly, and little
Gozel, Oshana and his brother, our two little girls, and myself. May
8th, we reached Memikan, and remained there three days.
"It was our first Sabbath in the mountains. I met that company of women
for whom our departed Mrs. Rhea used to labor. May 12th, we left
Memikan, and went up to the tops of the snowy mountains of Gawar. The
cold was such that we were obliged to wrap our faces and our hands as
we would in January. As we descended the mountain, we found it about as
warm as February. That night we staid in the deep valley of Ishtazin,
in the village of Boobawa, where Yohanan and Guly dwell. The people
here are very wild and hard. Yohanan and Guly were not here, having
gone to visit Khananis. Only a few came together for preaching. The
people said, 'Yohanan preaches, and we revile.' May 13th, we left
Boobawa, and soon crossed the river. Men had gone before us, and were
lying in wait there. They stripped us, but afterwards, of themselves,
became sorry, and returned our things. As we were going along this
wonderful, fearful river, and beheld the mountains on either side
covered with beautiful forests, we remembered Mr. Rhea, the composer of
the hymn, 'Valley of Ishtazin.' And when filled with wonder at the
works of the Great Creator, we all, with one voice, praised him in
songs of joy fitting for the mountains. Here the brethren reminded me
that our dear Miss Fiske had trodden these fearful precipices. This
greatly encouraged me in my journey. This day we went into many
villages, and over many ascents and descents. At evening we reached
Jeloo, and remained over night in the pleasant village of Zeer, which
lies in a valley made beautiful by forests, and a river passing through
it. They showed great hospitality here, and were eager to receive the
word of the Lord. May 14th, we left Zeer, and went to Bass. It was
Saturday night, and we remained over the Sabbath in the village of
Nerik. I shall always have a pleasant remembrance of the Sabbath we
passed there. Prom the first moment that we went in till Monday
morning, we were never alone, so many were assembling to hear the words
of the Lord. With tearful eyes and burning hearts, they were inquiring
for the way of salvation. They would say, 'What shall we do? We have no
one to sit among us, to teach us, poor, wretched ones.' Truly, a man's
heart burns within him as he sees this poor people scattered as sheep
without a shepherd. May 16th, we mounted our mules, and went on our
way. Half an hour from Nerik we came to the village of Urwintoos. An
honorable, kind-hearted woman came out, and made us her guests. This
was Oshana's aunt. As soon as we sat down, the house was filled with
men and women. They brought a Testament themselves, and entreated us to
read from that holy book. Did not my heart rejoice when I saw how
eagerly they were listening to the account of the death of our Lord
Jesns Christ! When the men went out, the women came very near to me,
entreating for the word of the Lord, as those thirsting for water. Then
I read to them from the book.
"There are many sad deeds of wickedness among these mountain
Nestorians; and when Christians hear how anxious they are to receive
the words of life, will they not feel for them? We reached Tehoma May
17th. Now, from the mercy of God, we are all well and in the village of
Mazrayee. I am not able to labor for the women here, as I desired,
because many of them have gone to the sheep-folds. It is so hot we
cannot remain here, and we will go there also, soon. I trust, wherever
I am, and as long as I am here, I shall labor for that Master who
wearied himself for me, and who bought these souls with his blood.
"The Lord keep and bless you, our beloved, who have been a mother to
the Nestorian girls, all of whom, with longing hearts are expecting
your return. We continually pray Him who gave you to us, to restore you
again in mercy to our people. If counted worthy, I should greatly
rejoice to receive a little note from you."
She returned to Oroomiah in the spring of 1860, and left again in 1861
for Amadia. When she went away, her three children had the whooping
cough; so she would not go into any of the mission families lest she
should spread the disease among the children; but after she was all
ready to go, and the heads of her own little flock were peeping out of
the saddle-bag contrivance in which they rode, Mrs. Breath went out to
bid her good by. Sarah told her how Miss Fiske had said, when she took
her oldest child into her arms for the first time, "'Now, Sarah, you
will not seek for this child a pleasant home upon the plain, as Lot
did, but rather to do God's will, and then he will give you all
things." "I have always remembered it," she added, "and am not willing
now to be found seeking my pleasure here."
During the long winter of 1861-62, no messenger could cross the
mountains from Oroomiah to Amadia; and she thus writes in March, 1862,
to Miss Rice:--
"I did greatly long for the coming of the messenger. We were very sad
in not hearing a single word from home. Now I offer thanksgivings to
Him in whose hands are all things, that he has opened a door of mercy,
and has delighted us by the arrival of letters. They came to-day. Many
thanks to you and your dear pupils. The Lord bless them, and prepare
their hearts for such a blessed work as ours.
"Give Eneya's salutations and mine to all the school. I think they will
wish to hear about the work of the Lord here. Thanks to God, our health
has been good ever since we came, and our hearts have been contented
and happy in seeing some of our neighbors believing, and with joy
receiving the words of life. Every Sabbath we have a congregation of
thirty-five, and more men than women. For many weeks only the men came;
but now, by the grace of God, the women come too, and their number is
increasing. I have commenced to teach them the life of the Lord Jesus
from the beginning. I have strong hopes that God is awakening one of
them. His word is very dear to her. Her son is the priest of the
village, and a sincere Christian. Four other young men and five women
are, we trust, not far from the door of the kingdom. We entreat you,
dear sisters, to pray in a special manner for these thoughtful ones,
that they may enter the narrow door of life.
"From the villages about us we have a good report. They receive the
gospel from Oshana and Shlemon, who visit them every Sabbath. In my
journeys through these mountains, I have seen various assemblies of men
and women listening to the gospel, poor ones, exclaiming 'What shall we
do? Our priests have deceived us: we are lost, like sheep on the
mountains. There is no one to teach us.' They sit in misery and
ignorance. They need our prayers and our help. I verily believe that if
we labor faithfully--God help us to labor thus--we shall soon see our
church revived, built up on the foundation Christ Jesus, and adorned
for him as a bride for her husband. With tears of joy we shall gaze on
these ancient ruins becoming new temples of the Lord. Soon shall these
mountains witness scenes that will rejoice angels and saints. Those
will be blessed times. Let us pray for them, and labor with Christ for
their coming."
Our latest news from Sarah is, that during the summer of 1862, her
little son had died, and she herself was just recovering from a
dangerous fever.
The joyful anticipations awakened by such a letter from a graduate of
the Seminary, in ancient Amadia, are not diminished by accounts
received of a conference of "Mountain helpers," held in Gawar, from May
30th to June 2d, 1862. They came from Gawar, Jeloo, Tehoma and Amadia.
At the opening of each session, half an hour was spent in prayer; then
carefully prepared essays were read on subjects previously assigned,
and each topic was afterwards thoroughly discussed. The first subject
was, "Hinderances to evangelization in the mountains,--such as their
ruggedness, deep snows, superstition of the people, and persecution."
Deacon Tamo, in speaking, admitted all these, but said, "For rough
roads we have our feet and goats' hair sandals; for deep snows, snow
shoes; for the darkness and superstition of the people, we have the
light of the truth and the sword of the Spirit; and for persecution, we
have God's promise of protection and the firman of the sultan." "The
faithful pastor's duty to his flock," and "Means of securing laborers
for the field," were among the topics discussed. Their discussions on
the subject of benevolence showed that they regarded that duty as
binding as any other. They engaged to observe the monthly concert, and
take up monthly and also annual collections in their congregations, and
apply the proceeds to the support of a laborer in the mountains. On
Sabbath evening the monthly concert was observed, and after stirring
addresses, the contribution amounted to what was for them the very
large sum of fifty-two dollars. Among the offerings were a horse, an
ox, a sheep, a goat, and different articles of jewelry. Arrangements
were made at the conference for the formation of a Protestant community
in Gawar, in accordance with the firman of the sultan. In all respects
the meeting was a rich spiritual festival, and from the spirit its
members manifested, and the progress already made, we may hope for
extensive and important results before many years have passed away.