The central shrine and cathedral of the district of Jilu is the ancient church of Mar Zeia, a building remarkable enough to merit a word of description to itself. In structure it is not very different from any other mountain church; being a mere rectangular box of stone, with a roof vaulted within and flat without, and arranged according to the usual type of Nestorian building, which we must describe later. It is its contents that are unique.
For centuries, Jilu men who have gone "to countries" (or foreign parts generally) have made a practice of giving gifts to this shrine on their return; and it, unlike other churches, has never been plundered by any foe, for a reason that will presently appear.
The consequence is that the building contains such a collection of _ex voto_ offerings as can hardly be matched in the world, reaching back for one is afraid to say how long. The most modern feature is a grand collection of American clocks, alarm and otherwise, that hang on a cord, touching one another, all across the church. Bells, usually of small size (for half a mule load or 125 lbs. is the strict limit of weight that can be transported in one mass), are hung everywhere; long strings of them decorating the curtain that veils the sanctuary. Vestments for the priests, of Russian cut and make, hang all along the walls; while ostrich eggs and coral speak of the connexion with Malabar. Finally, away at the back, and covered thick with dust, stand rows of "China jars," said to have been brought back thence when this Nestorian church had its bishops at Pekin and Singan in the eighth century, and which connoisseurs would probably think cheap at their weight in gold.
Strangest perhaps of all, if genuine, is the charm that has preserved all these treasures from the spoiler. A _zaptieh_ had accompanied us from the seat of government at Neri, and had entered the church with us, reverently removing hat and shoes at the door. He now approached the young bishop who was showing us his treasures, and said "My Lord, you will allow me to see the handkerchief of Mohammed the Prophet?" "By all means," said the bishop; and going to a recess in the wall, he produced thence a bundle of silk wrappings, which were removed one after the other, revealing a piece of plain linen, inscribed with Arabic characters. This either is, or is supposed to be, a _firman_ of protection for this church, issued by the Prophet himself, and written on his own napkin. Whether it is, whether it can be, genuine is not for us to say.[101] This is certain at least; that every Kurd believes in its genuineness: and the _zaptieh_ bowed before it with the utmost reverence, placed it on his forehead and eyes for a moment, and finally returned it, with an offering to the shrine which represented about a week's pay. Genuine or not, the fact of its existence has saved this church and its contents from plunder many a time and oft, and will probably continue to do so; though it must be owned that at one terrible outbreak of Moslem fanaticism in the year 1847, not even reverence for the name of the Prophet saved a similar document in the hands of the Patriarchial family from destruction, the members of the family from slaughter, or an even wealthier church from plunder.