Before he died, he could rejoice in a rich harvest from his own sowing, but a greater harvest is yet to be reaped from the seed so widely scattered by his hand.

He has gone, a sheaf of the first-fruits of the work in Baghchejuk.

He 'came to his grave as a shock of corn cometh in in his season.'" Mr.E.E.Bliss passed through Marsovan on his way to Harpoot, and found that the rampant hostility of eight years before had died out.[1] Instead of the hootings and stonings, which then greeted his arrival, he was met, a long way out, by a goodly company to escort him to his lodgings.

On the Sabbath, in place of the little company assembled in a lower room of his own house, he now preached to a good audience, in a large and commodious chapel.
[1] See chapter xxiv.
"I spent," he says, "a few days at Sivas, where I was eight years ago, and found the small room, where ten or fifteen then met for God's worship, exchanged for a large upper room, filled with an audience of more than a hundred.

And as we went onward to places we had never before visited, it was a continual feast to see the extent to which the work of God had spread in the whole country.