Little Edith and her sisters had a great pleasure the first year that they spent in Syria. Their father and mother, and a friend who had gone out to Syria to preach the gospel, made a plan for travelling all over the Holy Land. They were to live in tents, which they could easily carry on their horses. Amy knew that the little girls would enjoy this journey, but two of them were still too young to ride on horseback, and there was no other way of travelling. However, their kind mother thought of a plan. She found two large boxes like tea chests, which she fastened together with a long strap. Then they were hung over the back of one of the horses, upon which Amy herself rode. Edith was put into one box, and Persis in the other. May had a horse to herself. They took with them as much food as they could carry, and set off for Jerusalem. There were many places to see on the way to Jerusalem. Some were beautiful, and some had more than beauty to make them worth seeing. There were the places where the Saviour had lived and taught, and worked miracles. Some had changed very little since those wonderful days so long ago. Trees and flowers were there just as they must have been then — the twisted silver-grey olive trees, fig and palm trees, pine trees, and the wild myrtle.
It was in the spring that they travelled so the great scarlet and purple anemones were all out in the olive grounds and fields, and the white cistus, and yellow, prickly broom, and down in the valleys and plains there were fields white and sweet with the little wild narcissus. The girls enjoyed it immensely. Sometimes they complained when there was no food to be had but a little sour bread. But Amy never complained, and was always bright and happy. From Jerusalem they went through the wilderness of Judea, where John preached, and came to the river Jordan, where the banks were covered with willow and oleander, but looked very much the same as when John stood there and saw the heavens opened, and the Holy Spirit descend upon the Son of God. They crossed the Jordan into the land of Bashan, and there they lived for some days in one of the old giant cities, where the great stone houses have been standing empty and deserted for so many ages.
They called them 'giant cities', because so many people have imagined that they were the actual cities built by the race of giants, of whom Og, King of Bashan, was one. 'Probably,' Amy said, 'they are built on the sites of the old cities of the giants, but are not the remains of those cities. Such remains are, perhaps, buried underground. The present cities are by no means gigantic, though certainly very solid, being built entirely of stone. This, however, was simply owing to the scarcity of wood. There are many inscriptions in them, nearly all Greek, a few Arabic, and we saw only one of a character we did not know.'
To one of these old houses Amy invited a great many of the Arabs from the villages nearby. These poor people listened gladly to the word of God, and asked that a school might be opened, that their children might learn to read and hear of Jesus. Up until then Europeans had been afraid to go, because the Arabs had a bad name as robbers and murderers. But to Amy's little party of travelers they were very kind. They brought them food and milk, and they said they were very thankful that Amy had come amongst them to tell them the good news.
The travelers had a pleasant journey back to Sook. The little girls in the boxes had had a fine time of it. They were just as fond of living out-of-doors as their mother had been before them, and children who travel about in comfortable railway carriages, with stuffed cushions, and sleep at grand hotels, and dine at tables, can scarcely imagine how much more amusing these six weeks were spent in the open air, in all sorts of wild and curious places.
Amy had become very fond of the wandering Bedouins during the journey on horseback, when they were so kind and friendly. The whole family wished to go and live beyond the Jordan, at Ramoth Gilead, but they needed a house built there first.
Meanwhile, Amy had made many friends amongst the Mohammedans, and especially amongst the Druses in the villages round Sook. The Druses came in such numbers to the house to hear about the Lord Jesus, that Amy began to have constant readings with them under the plum trees in the gardens. Some were truly turned to God.
`Oh,' she wrote, 'I long to see Christ himself loved for Himself, not merely truths taught about him! There seems so little warm devotion to him. Still, perhaps, there may be more than we see.'
In the spring of 1872, Amy and her husband and another English preacher, Mr. Rose, went for a second time across the Jordan to spend three weeks in Bashan. They took with them a muleteer, who was a Greek Christian, two other muleteers who were Druses; a Maronite lad to look after the horses, and two Mohammedan soldiers. 'All, I was thankful to find,' Amy wrote 'had no fire-arms. The soldiers had swords, but they were used only to cut grass for the horses.'
You must remember that Bashan is not a desert, but a beautiful and fruitful country. At that time it was still much as it was when the three tribes of Reuben, Gad and Manasseh asked Moses to let them stay there. The deep green valleys, filled with willows and oleanders, that grow by the clear mountain streams, are the home of many singing birds. The cuckoo is heard there. The hoopoos, with the golden crests, live in the woods. The fig, and the vine, and the olive grow there in abundance, and in the rich, deep soil everything that is planted flourishes and thrives. We read in the Bible of the oaks of Bashan. One would think at first the country was nothing but a plain, but here and there one comes upon narrow mountain clefts and glens, for the land is a tableland and high above the level of the sea.
'The sheikh of Burak,' Amy wrote, 'received us in a most friendly way. Whilst our supper was cooking, we went to his house. It was one of the old houses where the floor had been freshly made up of stamped clay. His wife brought a large basket tray with bread, butter, dibs (a kind of treacle), and pounded sugar. The sheikh took a piece of bread, dipped it in the butter, then in the dibs, then in the sugar, and ate it before we touched anything, to show, he said, that all was free from poison. We were abundantly supplied with milk and food for the horses, and supper sent for the soldiers. Indeed throughout our whole journey nothing could exceed the kindness and friendliness of the Druses. Our general plan was to start at about nine in the morning, and to ride about seven hours a day, resting for about an hour at noon.
'When we arrived at the village where we meant to encamp, we went to the sheikh's house and asked him to show us the best place for the tent. This was often the village threshing floor, and was always freely given. The sheikh would almost always send a servant with coffee for us, and then would come himself to know what we wanted. Butter, milk and eggs were always to be had in plenty and generally they offered us a lamb. It was very interesting to talk to the men, women and children who gathered in numbers round the tent. At sunset the goats came in from pasture, providing us with milk. Mr. Rose or I then cooked the supper. Afterwards the sheikh and some of his family would come and spend the evening with us, or I used to sit outside the tent door by the remains of our charcoal fire, talking to the soldiers and villagers till bedtime.'
How many there must be in these lonely villages who in this way heard of the love of Jesus! We shall know some day in how many hearts the seed of the word took root! Amy goes on:
`Our life was, as you may imagine, very primitive. I did not see a chair or a table for three weeks, but I enjoyed it very much. In almost every village the first question asked was, "Will you not give us a school?" it was sad to see these fine, intelligent, brave men unable to read. They have done what they could for their children, and we found several of the boys able to read and write, and most anxious for books. We gave them the book of Genesis and the Epistle to the Romans bound together, the Gospels and Acts in one volume; also The Blood of Jesus, and Come to Jesus.
`They were delighted to have these books. In one village the children brought eggs for them. At one town the sheikh said, "The English seem to have forgotten us. We have begged and prayed for teachers, but none come. It seems no use to ask any more." At one village there were twenty or thirty ignorant Christians, very superstitious and dark. They had only one Bible amongst them. My husband preached to them on Sunday morning. In the afternoon there was a meeting, with all of us chatting and sitting on mats on the floor in one of the old stone houses. In one village there were many children who could read, and who were so eager for books we could not satisfy them. We spent Sunday there. I could not leave the tent owing to the number of people continually coming. I sat by the door all the morning talking to them. Another meeting was held in one of the houses, but it was a stormy one. A Maronite priest came in, and was very violent. He wished to stop the meeting. The owner of the house was very wrathful, for he maintained he had a right to hear and read the Bible in his own house, and to ask anyone he liked to come and teach him.
'When we camped amongst the Arabs, they were quite as friendly as the Druses, and gave us plenty of milk and cheese. It seems very desirable that a Christian family should go and live amongst these people. A missionary asked me the other day if I would go. I would most gladly, and my husband is willing to go for a year at least. Will you pray that we may see the Lord's will clearly? Pray also that suitable teachers may be found who would preach the gospel fully.'
Perhaps Amy thought, during these wanderings, of the days so long ago, when she had set her heart on living out-of-doors! How little had she imagined then how she was to have her wish granted! Not in the oak woods of England, but in the wild plain of Bashan. Not to please herself, but as a messenger from the Lord Jesus, to make him known where others had feared to go. When she got back to Sook, she was glad to find that several Syrian Christians were willing to go and open schools in Bashan. She felt sure the Druses would receive them gladly and treat them kindly. So with many prayers these teachers were sent to the distant villages, and they promised to send word from time to time about how they were getting on.
Soon after this Amy's husband went for a time to England, and she was left with the three little girls at Sook. There was now a great deal to do, for there were so many who were longing to hear the gospel, especially amongst the Druses. Amy would go alone, or with one of the little girls, from one Druse village to another, read and talk from house to house, and when she was tired she would ask if she might lie down on the mat, and go to sleep for a little while. Then she would wake up refreshed, eat any of the food they offered her, and go on again.
'I am happy,' she wrote, 'in feeling that the Lord is guiding me, and even though I cannot have the teaching and the Christian fellowship that are so precious to me, I have Christ — Christ in glory! That means everything. God has given me a very active life, and having been here so long, I can often do little things to help people who do not know the language or customs. I can hardly describe the various things I often find I can do to help people. All sorts of things happen which couldn't happen in England and I may be wanted at all sorts of times.
`Only a little while ago a horseman came up for me from Beirut, in the middle of the night; and again, last week, I had to ride down, and come up late at night, only staying there half-an-hour. The horse was a very swift one, so I managed the whole journey in about four and-a-half hours.
do seek to do all just simply for the Lord, and I am thankful to him for giving me these things to do, and for keeping me so wonderfully well in health. This climate seems to give me strength for almost anything.
`Can you send me any short tracts that might be translated for the Moslems? Just now many seem to be taught by the word of God, without any human help. Some are almost Christians and confess in a most wonderful way, that Christ is God. It is this that has always been the great difficulty with Moslems. Many confess that he died for us and that he is the only Saviour. They believe that the Bible is the word of God, though they think the Koran is also. Several have been imprisoned for their belief, but they are still Moslems, in name at least, so nothing worse was done to them. I don't think a Moslem who became a Christian would be openly put to death by the government, but he would be persecuted and, perhaps, murdered privately.'
Soon after this a sad time came. For a while the teachers who had been sent to Bashan sent good accounts of their schools, and all seemed well. But one day news came that the best of the teachers, a Syrian, called Girius, had been murdered by the Druses, and another robbed, and beaten, and sent back quite destitute to Damascus.
Amy wrote: 'I felt quite overwhelmed when we heard this. Poor Girius had left his wife and little children in the Lebanon. It was terrible to think of them. What a blow it was to the work. It upset me to think of the wickedness of the Druses, whom I had loved and trusted. When the news came, I was on the roof with a Druse sheikh. He said, "I will not believe it. If Girius has been murdered, it is not by our people." He wanted to get a horse to go at once to Bashan to see if it were true. But it was settled at last that a young Englishman, who was a teacher in the Lebanon schools, should go instead, and that a Syrian doctor should go with him. They went to Beirut first to get an order from the governor for the body of Girius to be given up to them.'
The morning they left, Shibbley, the most powerful of the Lebanon sheikhs, came to see me; he, too, refused to believe that his people had committed such a crime. But I felt very sad, and in the afternoon I took the two youngest girls, and went with another Druse sheikh, called Chatar, to a lonely part of the mountains. We sat there and read the gospel. It comforted me to hear the way in which Chatar talked to me. "Do not let your faith be weak," he said; "God is able to turn this sorrow into joy, or to bring blessings out of it, such as you do not expect, and then you will praise him for the trouble."
`The next day I was surprised to meet one of my teachers from Bashan. You may imagine my joy when he gave me a letter from Girius himself! I didn't stop to read it, for I knew his writing. I went off directly to the Druses. I found Chatar asleep in his house. He looked quite bewildered when I woke him up, but as soon as he understood the matter, his delight was great, and we thanked God together. Sheikh Shibbley was just as pleased. I gave him the letter and he read it to me. Girius, it seems, had been very ill, and was still so, but no one had harmed him, or had any intention of doing so. Sheikh Shibbley and I had a long and interesting conversation. I long so much for this man's conversion. Do pray for him. He is so much more humble than he was, which is hopeful.'
Soon after this, two more teachers came back from Bashan, and said they had been very kindly treated by the Druses, but that Girius was still very ill. He needed someone to go and look after him.
'But,' wrote Amy, 'in spite of all that was told of the Druses, not a Christian would go! I couldn't find one who had sufficient faith in God, or love for his brother, to go to the poor sick teacher in his loneliness; so I asked Chatar to go.
'Alone he set out on a cold morning. When he left our house he said to me, "Pray for me as your brother." He reached Damascus in two days, and Elkurieh, in Bashan, in three days more. He found Girius very ill, but by making a comfortable bed on a camel's back for him, he brought him safely to some relations he has at Damascus. From there Girius wrote to me: "Sheikh Chatar came to me as an angel from heaven." Girius had been very kindly treated in Bashan but was, of course, glad to be nursed by his friends at Damascus and to get the money which we sent by Chatar.'
The sad thing was, that the false report of Girius' murder had been spread by two teachers who had come back to the Lebanon. On their way through Damascus they had invented the story of the murder of Girius. This was, of course, to excuse themselves for leaving their work in Bashan. And these men called themselves Christians! When Chatar came back to the Lebanon, Amy wrote -
'I asked Chatar to tell me exactly how the Druses in Bashan felt towards the Christian teachers. He replied: "The sheikhs all say that they will receive the teachers with all courtesy and friendliness. They wish to have their children taught but they will not have any more Christian teachers. They were unjustly accused of evil. If a Christian teacher comes and dies amongst them they are afraid that they will be accused of murder. They are still quite willing that the Bible, and the Bible alone, should be taught but they only want teachers who are Druses."
'The sheikh of Elkurieh wrote me a letter in which he says, "Could you believe I should make such a bad return for your kindness as to murder your teacher?"
`Now I really do not know where to look for any teachers. Those we did send called themselves Christians and were the best we knew of and yet they have neither faith, nor love, nor courage, nor truth! I am myself inclined to send Druses, and the word of God, and leave the work more fully in God's hands. My own belief is that many of the Druses are more truly Christians than many who have been calling themselves Christians.
'I said to Chatar one day, "How is it that when I talk to Sheikh Shibbley about Christ, he says he cannot believe that he is the Son of God, and yet the Druse boys at the school, when I ask them to say an English sentence, almost always say, 'Jesus Christ is God.' Do their parents know of this, and do they like them to say it?"
'Chatar answered. "Perhaps their parents would not say it themselves, but the truth is finding its way into the hearts of the children. The parents cannot prevent it."
`I told him we were astonished at the boys, because they were mostly new boys, who had had very little teaching. He replied, "What teaching had I before I came to you? Hardly any from men; but the Holy Spirit had taught my heart."
`A few of the Druse women spent the evening here a few days ago. It was very pleasant, and very un-English. We all sat on the ground, and the husband of one of them read aloud to us. Amongst other chapters, he read John chapter 4, and several times he repeated with earnestness the forty-second verse, "And said unto the woman, Now we believe, not because of thy saying: for we have heard him ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world." Pray for this people. Oh, pray for them that they may come fully to the Lord, not to the so-called Christianity that they see in others around them.'
Amy knew that there were some Christians who cared for the souls of the Druses. Christians from Europe and America had gone amongst them, both on the Lebanon and in Bashan. The problem seemed to be with the native Christians who looked on the Druses in the same way as the Jews looked on the Samaritans in Bible times. They actually despised them.
`I believe more and more firmly,' Amy went on to say, 'in the work of the Spirit alone, teaching through the word. One thing which has led me to this is the history of a young man, for whom I beg you to pray. He is a Moslem and lives at a village called Raifoon, where he is a schoolmaster. When my husband went to preach at Raifoon, this young man, Sheikh Hassan, opposed him bitterly. However, some time ago, he asked for a Bible. We gave him one, telling him not to throw it away if he did not like it, but to return it to us. This he promised to do. He began to read from the beginning, straight on. One day I met him in a house where I was visiting. I asked him to read for me the account of the Passover. He objected a little, because he said he had not got to that part, and he must read straight on. "But," he added, "I am not going to give up this book." Some time later I went to a shop, and found Sheikh Hassan sitting there. He told me he was still reading the Bible. "You are reading the Bible," I said, "and I have been reading the Koran."
`The shopkeeper said, "It is not a sin to read the Koran."
"No," I said; "there are some good things in the Koran. Mohammed was right in saying that idols are not to be worshipped."
"Yes," said Sheikh Hassan, "Mohammed was an instrument against idolatry, but he was a man, as we are. He was no Saviour."
"True," I said, "Mohammed could save no one. There is but one Saviour, even Jesus Christ."
"Oh," said the shopkeeper, who was a professing Christian, "Sheikh Hassan doesn't believe that!"
`Hassan looked a little grieved. "I have not come to the New Testament yet," he said; "but I know that salvation must come from God alone. Have you got a Bible?"
`The shopkeeper acknowledged he had not. "Then," said Hassan, "I advise you to give up something, even your daily food, to get one."
`So you can understand I feel led more and more to rest on the word alone. The so-called Christians, even those who are perhaps really Christians, are very cold. I have not yet met with one of them who could say he knew he was saved. I would be thankful if there were some earnest man who could teach others. I feel that all I can do is live amongst the people and love them.
'I am quite strong, wonderfully so, as I live entirely on bread and Arabic coffee. I often think of you, and long for such teaching as you get; but pray for me that the Lord himself may teach me. I should so like to see you, but otherwise have no wish to return to England.
`A Bedouin was baptized at our house last Sunday. His confession of Christ as the Son of God and Saviour of the world was quite clear. A Christian here asked him just before he was baptized if he thought being baptized with water would save him. He answered: "Will the medicine heal the sore on the sheep's skin if it be rubbed on the wool?"'
As time went on, one Druse after another began to ask to hear more of the Lord Jesus. Some believed and were saved, and Amy would have been thankful if a Christian preacher could have been found amongst them.
She wrote in the year 1873: 'I am really longing for some preacher of the gospel to come here. It seems so useless for me to be here, and yet I cannot help feeling that the Lord placed me here, and I can only wait for him to use me.'
The Druses came to Amy about all their concerns, knowing that she cared for them. For instance, one day in Beirut, some men from the mountains were bringing in horses for sale. In the narrow streets the horses suddenly began to fight, and became so wild the men fled to a safe distance, and looked on in dismay. At last one said, 'Oh, if only that kind lady were here! She would tell us what to do.'
'She is here,' said one, 'I saw her go down to the market.'
Immediately the men ran off to the market and returned with Amy, who walked quietly amongst the horses and separated them. It was strange to see the little delicate-looking Englishwoman managing the restive horses, whilst their owners, ten strong men, stood at a distance, afraid to go near them.
'However,' Amy wrote, 'I believe I am in my right place and in the meantime the Lord teaches me. The Druses ask me to say to you that they want you to pray for them, and I entreat you to do so. One of them this morning, for the first time, prayed himself. It was very cheering to hear one of these poor despised ones praying in the Name of Jesus. The Syrian Christians speak of them as dogs and swine, to whom the pearls and the holy things are not to be given.'
During this time Amy's little girls thoroughly enjoyed their life on the Lebanon. They learned how to read and talk Arabic, and Amy hoped that they would be able to read the Gospel to some who could not read themselves. Persis was, however, making plans on her own, whilst she was playing with her tortoises, or working in her garden; but I do not know whether she told them to her mother. She was allowed to play about near the house, and sometimes wandered as far as an old monastery of Greek monks, into which no women were allowed to go. Persis, however, was only a small child, so the monks were not afraid of breaking their rule by talking to her.
At last they invited her into their chapel, hoping that she would admire the painted pictures before which they knelt to pray. But Persis knew too much of the Bible to enjoy the sight, and she felt quite sure that if she could only get the monks to listen to texts, and hear all that she had to say, they would learn the truth of Jesus Christ. She therefore paid them constant visits, and was disappointed at last to find that the pictures still hung in their places, and the monks showed no sign of repentance. Poor little Persis had to learn long afterwards that Protestants need to be converted just as much as Greek monks, and the time came when she found out that she too needed to hear the voice of Jesus Christ.
When some of the Druses became Christians, Amy began to gather them at the house for about a quarter-of-an-hour every morning. They then all prayed together. One day some poor Druses came from a distant village to the house of Sheikh Chatar. They told him they had heard something about one called Jesus. They wanted someone to go to their village, and tell them about him.
Sheikh Chatar replied: `If you think you will get any money by that means, or get off some punishment for your crimes, it is no use to come to us, for the gospel is not to make people better off, it is to tell them how God saves us from our sins.'
They said they wanted only to be taught, and nothing more whatever. Next week they came again with the same request; but Sheikh Chatar, though he was interested in them, did not feel inclined to trust himself in their village. So he sent them to Amy and warned her that nobody in that village had ever died a natural death. However, Amy was quite ready to go, so, taking her daughter May as a companion, she set off on horseback for the ride of twenty miles.
`It is such an odd place,' she said; 'a little village half in ruins, on a hill in a sort of basin, surrounded by much higher hills, and between it and the sea is a great mound which shuts out all view, except a tiny bit of the sea at each side of it. The road is so bad, I could hardly believe the horses could get down to it.
`The people in the village are in darkness. They know there is a God, and that they are Druses by name, but beyond that they know nothing. There is no one in the village who can read, except one lad, and he reads very badly. They are thought to be extremely wicked people; but they were quite civil and kind to May and me. They gave us sherbert and coffee, and watered our horses, and wanted to kill some chickens and cook them for us. I read and spoke to them from house to house as simply as I could, and they listened very attentively, saying, "We never heard anything like this, neither we nor our fathers." We stayed with them and I promised them before leaving the next day if the Lord permitted me, I would come back before long.'
However, Amy was anxious to find some Christian man to go there, for she did not think that God means women to be preachers.
So she went to a Syrian Christian who lived at Sook, and asked him to go. She said, 'He surprised me by saying he was not ordained. I still asked him to go, but he replied, "What will Sheikh Shibbley say?" Of course I said, "It does not matter whether Sheikh Shibbley wishes it or not. If we ask everybody's permission we shall never speak of Christ at all." Then he said, "People will laugh at you for going to such a village." I told him that didn't matter either; the people of Sarachmool had asked for someone to go, and they should not be refused. He offered to send one of the teachers in his school to go with me, but I knew this young man and did not think he had any care for the souls of others. So I said, "Why will you not go yourself?" He then said "I will write to England and ask for an evangelist to be sent out. But as to myself," he explained, "I have too much to do. I have to see to a large quantity of wheat I have been buying and it has to be stored away. I will see about it by-and-by."'
Amy asked one and then another but all in vain. Some said the Maronites and Greeks must be converted first. Others said it was no use to go to Druses. The only person who could be thought of who was willing to go, was a converted Druse. 'But,' said a Christian lady, 'the converted Druses don't belong to any particular denomination and that is so awkward.'
All that Amy could do was pray that the Lord would send labourers into his harvest. I cannot tell you what happened to the people of Sarachmool: I should like to know.
It was not long after this that a preacher came. He was an American, who had worked for God for a long time in Egypt, and could speak Arabic easily. You can well believe what a great joy this was to Amy. It was not a grief to him that the converted Druses didn't belong to any particular group. They met together, and heard the word of God, and prayed and praised the Lord, and then with some Syrian Christians they ate the Lord's supper. Amy wrote in November 1873, 'I beg of you, and of all who care for the Lord's work in this land, to pray earnestly and constantly. Never did we need it so much as now. Pray for us. Pray for those who, few in number, are standing up boldly for the Lord, and pray for the poor weak ones who have been so long like sheep without a shepherd. Oh, that more knew the peace and joy of going straight to the Lord, and depending only on him! I am so thankful that we can now meet together and break bread in remembrance of him.'