"The most noteworthy part of the book is its Preface, which was printed last, and may be regarded as the platform of the reformed party. After giving a sketch of the history of the Armenian Church, its original purity of doctrine and worship, and the subsequent introduction of error and superst.i.tion, through the influence of the Greek and Roman Churches, it declares that the Armenian Church has come at last to be a mere 'satellite of Rome,' and that the time has come to a.s.sert its independence, to cast off the 'ultramontane influence,' to rescue the Church of their fathers from the 'Papal claws.' Three particulars are then set forth in which a 'reformation' is needed. First, in reference to doctrine. 'The Armenian Church has,' it is said, 'doctrines introduced from abroad, which place faith in respect to salvation upon a wrong foundation, transferring man's hope from G.o.d to things created and material.

Means are confounded with ends, and ends with means, and thus a thick veil is interposed between the eyes of the people and the simple doctrines of Christianity.' Secondly, 'The Church has now rites and ceremonies (unknown in purer times), which are a laughing-stock to the unbelieving, a grief to the truly pious, an offense to all enlightened men, and which have converted our churches into theatres, deprived worship of its spiritual character, and made it like the shows of a fair.' In the third place, 'The present relations of the clergy to the people are opposed to the spirit and substance of Christianity. Instead of being teachers, pastors, and fathers to the people, they claim to possess supernatural authority, rule by the terrors of that authority, teach the people only that which serves their own purposes, and are an obstacle to every good work.'"[1]

[1] _Missionary Herald_, 1867, pp. 237-239.

For twenty years there had not been such a religious ferment in Constantinople, as there was at the time of issuing this Reformed Prayer-book. It was not a revival of religion. The question was not, "What must I do to be saved?" but "What did our Church teach in the days of its purity?" and "What are the doctrines of the Word of G.o.d?" Meanwhile the advocates of reform were continually driven to take higher ground; and such was their progress while carrying their book through the press, that they were obliged to reprint some of the first sheets, to make them conform to their new convictions. It may be stated as an ill.u.s.tration, that baptismal regeneration was taught in one of the original sheets, but in the reprint it was omitted.[1] So far as is known, this book has never been used in any church; but it is an index of the reform movement, and it has been useful in awaking inquiry.

[1] _Missionary Herald_, 1867, p. 238.

Bible-women began to be employed in Constantinople early in 1866.

Five such women were supported by funds derived from the American Bible Society, and were kindly received in Armenian families. They sold many copies of the Scriptures, and met with much encouragement in their work. At this time, wherever missionaries labored in Turkey, large numbers of women were learning to read the Bible; and the majority of them were usually found at the women's prayer meeting.

The progress at Harpoot, only eleven years from the commencement of the station, as described by Mr. Allen, is worthy of special attention. The leaven of the gospel was permeating the ma.s.s of the people. Many who persistently refused to be called by the unpopular name of "Protestant," were evidently under the influence of evangelical doctrines. The rising generation was growing up with enlightened views. Many young men would have taken a stand at once on the side of truth, but for the difficulty of separating from their parents. Societies had been formed, consisting of several hundred men not reckoned among the Protestants, for the purpose of having good schools for their children, and plain practical preaching in their churches. The magnates of one church had closed its door against the native evangelical preachers, and placed two Turkish soldiers to guard it. At another church the people were more resolute, saying, "We built this church, and we will be martyred upon its threshold, if necessary to defend our right to have the Gospel preached to us." At this the chief men gave way, contenting themselves with reporting the matter to the Patriarch at Constantinople. As an additional motive, the party of progress threatened to attend the services of the missionaries, if not allowed to have a service of their own.[1]

[1] _Missionary Herald_, 1866, pp. 169-171.

Quite a number of the young men and women in the Protestant city congregation dated their conversion from the "Week of Prayer." This week was duly observed at Harpoot from the first, and in 1866, with deeper religious feeling, than had ever been seen before. The morning and evening prayer-meetings were kept up till the close of May, when it was decided to discontinue the morning meetings, and to sustain the others every day, one hour before sunset. Three fourths of the congregation attended them regularly, and an earnest and tender spirit was manifest in the remarks and prayers.

During this same week of prayer, Messrs. Burbank and Knapp, at Bitlis, aided by the native preacher Simon, afterwards pastor of the church, commenced a prayer-meeting at the dawn of day, which was so crowned with spiritual blessings, that it was continued, daily, for more than six months. The attendance increased from twenty to sixty, and was at one time nearly a hundred. The church had then only five members; and at the communion season in March, each of these five men publicly confessed his sins, and formally renewed his covenant.

Many were in tears. Some in the congregation, who had thought themselves Christians, when they saw the church thus making confession, were amazed, and felt that they were themselves lost, and literally cried, as did the publican, "G.o.d be merciful to me a sinner."

This was the commencement of the first revival of religion in Bitlis. Two meetings were held weekly for inquirers, at which between forty-five and fifty were usually present, of whom from fifteen to twenty-five were women. "Among the latter, was one over seventy years of age, who, being in the previous winter too feeble to walk through the deep snow to attend the meetings, had been carried by her stalwart son. Now she was a weeping penitent, seeking salvation at the foot of the cross, and that son was rejoicing in the hope of salvation." Forty men usually attended the sunrise prayer-meeting. Not as many of the fruits of this revival were gathered into the church as might have been antic.i.p.ated, because of the very high standard--too high it would seem--which was required for admission.

There had been great progress at Broosa. When Dr. Schneider left that place in 1849, on his removal to Aintab, no church had been formed, and his audience never exceeded fifteen natives, and sometimes it was not more than eight. No Protestant community had been formed, and in those days of fierce opposition very few were ready to face the consequences of an open acknowledgment of what they were convinced was the truth. But he found all this pa.s.sed away, on his visit there in 1866. There was then a church of fifty members, and a Protestant community of one hundred and fifty, chiefly young men of enterprise, and a Sabbath congregation of one hundred and fifty. They had a beautiful house of worship, a prosperous day-school, and an excellent native pastor. There were many whose beards made them venerable. Dr. Schneider believed that half the Armenians in the city were convinced of the truth.

The first evangelical church in Turkey, composed of Greeks, was organized by the Union of Bithynia at Demirdesh, in November, 1867.

Mr. Kalopothakes was present from Athens. The church was composed exclusively of evangelical Greeks, and six of its thirteen members were women. Pastor Hohannes of Bilijik, on behalf of the Union, welcomed them to the fellowship of the churches; which he said had been lost through the departure of the Greeks and Armenians from the gospel, but was now recovered. The preacher was a Greek, and a native of the place.[1]

[1] The members of the church formed at Hasbeiya in 1851 (p. 376 of vol. 1st) were seceders from the Greek Church, but were regarded by the Syrian mission as of the Arab race.

The mission was sorely afflicted in September by the sudden death of Mr. Walker of Diarbekir. The cholera was prevalent in that city, and seemed to follow no laws. In the previous year, it had been almost wholly among the Mohammedans; but this year, it prevailed most in the Christian population. Mr. and Mrs. Walker removed to a khan outside the walls. "His last sermons were from the texts 'The Master has come, and calleth for thee;' and 'Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.' On Monday, September 10th, he went into the city, spending some time over one stricken with cholera, besides customary duties. Tuesday morning, after a somewhat restless night, he rose as usual, and proposed a mission excursion to Cutterbul, but was persuaded to remain at home and rest. The premonitory symptoms soon appeared, but nothing peculiarly alarming, and as he had been held back from over-exertion, and been very careful in diet, all were full of hope. At the first whisper of illness the Christians gathered to aid, and the faithful Shemmas, without Mrs. Walker's knowledge, telegraphed to Mr. Williams, who started from Mardin at one o'clock, P. M., on Wednesday, and riding all night reached Diarbekir after sunrise to find that six hours before, September 13, 1866, his brother had gone 'to be with Christ.'" His age was forty-five.

"Diarbekir was filled with mourning. Not Protestants alone, but Moslems and Armenians, all were stricken. Such a funeral, as of one who was a father to all, was never witnessed there before. The native preacher conducted it appropriately and tenderly, praying not only for the stricken there, but for those in his native land who would so feel the loss."[1]

[1] _Missionary Herald_, 1867, pp. 33-37.

Mr. Walker was one of the best of missionaries. "His warm and affectionate nature," says Mr. Barnum, "quickly gained the hearts of the people wherever he went. His great desire was to see men coming to Jesus; and this he never forgot, whether at home or abroad. I have been with him not a little, and seldom have I seen an opportunity for a personal appeal, though only for a moment, pa.s.s unimproved."

The tribute to Mr. Walker's memory from his brother Williams, of Mardin, who knew him well, and has so lately followed him into the eternal world must not be omitted.

"His peculiar gifts were three:--1. He remembered faces, and recalled the names which belonged to them. He knew everybody.

Ordinarily he needed to meet a man but once to recognize him ever after. And this pleases men; it appeals to their self-appreciation; they feel that they have made a permanent impression. Especially is this a power among a people who look up to the missionary as occupying a higher plane of civilization. It gives him a vast influence over them.

"2. Partly as the result of this, but still distinct and beyond it, he had a marvelous faculty of making every man feel that he was especially an object of personal interest. Perhaps not that he alone was such, but that he was one of those taken into the inner sanctum of his affections. Love begets love, and believing that they were so dear to him, he was soon very dear to them. And he was never lacking in the outward expression of love. He was not afraid they would think he loved them too much.

"3. He always had something to say. I suppose there is some good done by public preaching, but it is the preacher who is ready, in the face-to-face opportunity, who comes home laden with sheaves. Mr.

Walker was always ready. Meet a man when he might, where he might, just the right word was on his tongue. And that warm grip of his hand, into how many souls has it infused a new and spiritual life.

So he begot his children in the gospel; and by his sermons, which were always thoughtful, he built them up into Christian characters, as a workman who needeth not to be ashamed. Our Cutterbul deacon says to me since his death, 'I _never_ saw such a man.' When he left for Constantinople in 1859, perhaps one hundred men waited upon him out of the city, and he spoke to every one, and repeated nothing, but had a special word for each, exactly adapted to his case."

Mrs. Walker returned to the United States, with her four children, in the following summer, and has since been recognized,--in connection with a benevolent lady in New York city,--as sustaining a relation of maternal guardianship to returned children of missionaries.

At the close of the year Mr. Wheeler and others made a visit to Choonkoosh, two days' journey from Harpoot. Many of the people came several miles to welcome them, and crowds escorted them into the city. "Nine years ago," says Mr. Wheeler, "I made my first visit here in company with brother Dunmore, and we were hooted at, stoned, and at last driven from our room, in the pouring rain and splashing mud of a dark night." Now, every house seemed open to receive them.

"Their new place for Protestant worship testified to the remarkable change. The men had brought all the timber, by hand, a distance of from three to five miles, and it sometimes required thirty men to bring one piece. Women and children brought water, earth, and stones; and women were still busy in plastering the walls, so that a meeting might be held there before we left!"[1]

[1] _Missionary Herald_, 1867, p. 108.

The foreign missionary spirit was being developed. The Harpoot Evangelical Union resolved at Diarbekir, in 1866, to send a mission into the wild region eastward of that city, where the Armenians, living among the Koords, had lost all knowledge of both the Armenian and Turkish languages, and were in the grossest darkness. A dozen small churches, with a membership of hardly more than five hundred, undertook to educate seven young men to go as their missionaries, and the movement excited much enthusiasm. At the same time, the home missionary spirit received strength. The brethren at Harpoot were endeavoring to occupy fifty or more stations, within their home field, at most of which there were a few persons somewhat enlightened and more or less desirous of instruction.

A blessing followed. The week of prayer, in the opening of 1867, was signalized by a revival at Harpoot.[1] There were indications of deep feeling in the church; and on one of the last days of the week, three of the most prominent men in the community openly identified themselves with the Protestants. One of these, named Sarkis Agha, became a very active and useful Christian. Feeling that he had been a stumbling-block to others, he lost no time in going to the market, and inviting twelve or fifteen of his most intimate friends, all men of influence, to his place of business, and telling them of his change of feeling. He expected only ridicule, but the majority were affected to tears, and requested him to read the Bible and pray with and for them.

[1] An interesting account of this revival, by Miss Maria A. West, may be found in the _Missionary Herald_ for 1867, pp. 139-142.

It was winter, and the travelling was very bad, so that they could not reach the more distant out-stations; but the members of the church visited the princ.i.p.al ones on the plain. Among these was Hooeli, about ten miles distant, where Mr. Barnum spent two days.

The whole congregation appeared to be interested, prayer-meetings, morning and evening, were attended by from a hundred and twenty to two hundred persons; and through the entire day, till nearly midnight, the room of the missionary was thronged with inquirers. A large number of those with whom he conversed, appeared to be truly regenerated. Mr. Wheeler, on the following Sabbath, found the interest more widespread. Four hundred persons crowded into the chapel, and listened with fixed attention.

Three years before, there was not a Protestant in the place. One year before, at the dedication of the chapel, when three hundred and fifty persons were present, the audience was so rude that there was the greatest difficulty in preserving quiet.[1] Both men and women were now quiet and serious listeners. A still larger attendance was reported on the following Sabbath, when more than a hundred failed of getting into the house of worship. There was also a revival of considerable power at Perchenj, another out-station, seven miles from Harpoot.

[1] Mr. Barnum thus describes Miss Fritcher's meeting with seventy or eighty females in this place, two years before: "The chapel was nearly full of women, all sitting on the floor, and each one crowding up to get as near her as possible. They were very much like a hive of bees. The slightest thing would set them all in commotion, and they resembled a town meeting more than a religious gathering.

When a child cried it would enlist the energies of half a dozen women, with voice and gesture to quiet it. When some striking thought of the speaker flashed upon the mind of some woman, she would begin to explain it in no moderate tones to those about her, and this would set the whole off into a bedlam of talk, which it would require two or three minutes to quell."

Human nature is everywhere essentially the same. The people of Hooeli being thus strengthened, they, with a little aid from abroad, erected a larger and finer house of worship, and then began to desire a new minister. Their humble and earnest but not eloquent preacher, whose labors G.o.d had so blessed among them, would do, they said, to gather the lambs, but not to feed the sheep. Contrary to the advice of the missionaries, they called two popular men of the graduating cla.s.s, one after the other, but both declined, choosing harder fields.

"Meanwhile their preacher was called to another place, and the people came to the city, with their donkeys, to take him and his family home. These were quietly sleeping at his house, expecting to start on the morrow, when, at midnight, nine of the princ.i.p.al men of Hooeli roused him from sleep, and began to beg pardon for their rejection of him, saying, 'Come, get your goods in readiness, and go with us.' It seems that they took their failure to secure the others as a rebuke from G.o.d for their pride; and having met to pray, sent these nine men to ask pardon of Garabed in person, while others wrote letters asking his forgiveness, and begging him to come back.

Both parties then appealed to the missionaries, who declined to interfere, advising them to pray and decide the matter among themselves. They agreed to accept the preacher's decision as G.o.d's will, and he after prayer and reflection, decided to return to his old people. In the mean time, twenty of the women of Hooeli, impatient at the delay, met also for prayer, and with difficulty were prevented from going in a body to take their old pastor home.

But the brethren kept them back, and when at length he reached the village, no other preacher ever had such an ovation in all that region, within the memory of man."[1]

[1] _Ten Years on the Euphrates_, pp. 278-280.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI.

THE NESTORIANS.

1864-1868.

Deacon Isaac, brother of the Patriarch, died in the early autumn of 1864, universally lamented. In character, as well as position, he was a prince among his people. I abridge the account of him by Mr.

Rhea, who loved him as a friend.[1] Seen in his plain dress and Simple manners, no one would have thought of him as once the mountain chieftain, ready to break a lance with Koordish robbers.

Growing up amid some of the grandest scenery in the world, it had its effect on his character; and that character the grace of G.o.d moulded into symmetry and beauty. His intellect was strong, his insight into human nature remarkable. The wily Persian official, baffled by him and mortified, exclaimed: "We cannot manage _him_."

While he was accessible to little children, and poor distressed women, there was a dignity which prevented undue familiarity. The Patriarchal family were proud of him. He grew up in a land where it was no shame for n.o.blemen to lie, yet always spoke the truth. He lived where bribery was practiced unblushingly, and his house was a court-room for the settlement of numberless cases of litigation, yet he took no reward for his services, much less to pervert justice.

"He grew up where little deference was paid to woman; yet took pride in showing his respect for his wife Marta,--mentioning her name, quoting her opinions, and treating her with the utmost kindness.

Their relation was a beautiful example of conjugal attachment, of untold worth in such a land and among such a people. He was naturally of a proud spirit, that could not brook an insult. Once, when insulted by a French Lazarist, he sprung to his feet, and put his hand to the hilt of his sword; but from that day he never wore the sword again."

[1] _Missionary Herald_, 1865, p. 45.

Miss Fidelia Fiske died at Shelburne, Ma.s.sachusetts, the place of her birth, July 26th, 1864, at the age of forty-eight. She both studied and taught at the Mount Holyoke Seminary, and partook largely of the spirit of its founder, the well-known Mary Lyon. She embarked at Boston in March, 1843, in company with Dr. and Mrs.