3. ^o,/c JSS*- :aS.% ^im^toiosm^ %/: PRINCETON, N. J. \ Presented by c3rsArB .cy\\J^k^ e\ BV 3705 .M3 S2 Sargent, John, 1780-1833. A memoir of Rev. Henry Martyn ^ -«^ J^ 'iiblish,*^ by ilie. A5!i.i-i..iii Tra.T S... tnqtara /Aj)iJJi7 i] v©iLi, VTTim;, ^>//A V V/ //// ^ - ///. ■/ ^ , y/r A MEMO/^ MAR 30 1910 REV. HENRY MARTYN, B. D. LATE FELLOW OF ST. JOIIN'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, AND CHAPLAIN TO THE HONORABLE EAST INDIA COMPANY. BY REV. JOHN SARGENT, M.A, RECTOR OF LAVINGTON. FROM THE TENTH LONDON EDITION, CORRECTED AND ENLARGED. ' Aud foi my name's sake hast labored, and hast not fainted." Rev. 9 • 3. PDBLISHED BY THE AMF.RICAN TK.ACT SOCIETY 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW-YORK. D. Faiiibaw, Printer. COITTUNTS. CHAPTER I. Early Life of Henry Martyn — Successful academical career — Religious impressions. . . . Page 7 CHAPTER II. Advancement in piety — Success in college — Tour througn Wales to Cornwall — Resolves on a mis- sionary life — Ordination 23 CHAPTER III. Enters on his ministerial labors — Acts as examiner in the University — Applies for a Chaplaiuship under the East India Company — Pursues his ministerial labors — Supreme regard to personal religion — Vi- sits Cornwall— Sufferings on leaving England. . 5h CHAPTER IV. Departure from England — Ministry on board ship — Incidents o^ the voyage — Visits Hanchal — St, Sal- vador — Cape of Good Hope — A field of battle — Opposed in his ministry — Feelings on approaching India — Arrives at Madras — Reaches Calcutta. . 112 CHAPTER V. Arrival at Calcutta — Residence and illness at Aldeen — Preaches at Calcutta — Opposition encountered — Is appointed to Dinapore — Leaves Calcutta — Voy- age up the Hoogley and Ganges. . . , .162 CHAPTER VI. Stationed at Dinapore — Obstacles encountered — Com- 4 CONTENTS. mences his ministry — Translations — Dispiiteswith his Moonshee and Pundit — Arrival of Mr. Corrie at Dinapore — Difticulties respecting the schools — Happiness in the work of translation. . . . 197 CHAPTER VII. Death of his eldest sister — Letters to his friends— arri- val of Mirza and Sabat— Trials with Sabat— De- clining health — Removal to Cawnpore — Death of his youngest sister— Health more impaired — De- termines to visit Arabia and Persia — Leav-es Cawn- pore for Calcutta — Departs for Arabia. . . 240 CHAPTER VIII. Voyage and journey from Bengal to Persia— Insup- portable heat — Arrival at Shiras — Commenc3S a new Persian translation of the New Testament — Discussions with the Persian Moollahs. . . 300 CHAPTER IX. First public discussion at Shiraz— Mr. Martyn replies to a defence of Mohammedanism — Interview with the head of the Soofies — Visits Persepolis — Trans- lations — Discussions 333 CHAPTER X. Leaves Shiraz in order to lay before the king his translation of the New Testament — Arrives at the camp— Is not admitted to an audience — Pro- ceeds to Tebriz — Severe illness 383 CHAPTER XI. Commences his journey homewards, by way of Con- stantinople—Visits Echmiadzin — Suffers from fe- ver — Dies at Tocat, in Persia — View of his Cha- racter—Conclusion 407 ADVERTISEMENT. Before the reader proceeds to the perusal of the following memoir, it may be proper to inform him that the former part of it has been chiefly selected from various journals, which Mr. Marty n was in the habit of keeping-, for his own private use ; and which, beginning with the year 1803, comprehend a period of eight years. The remainder is extracted from an account which he drew up of his visit to Shiraz in Persia ; in which some occasional observations on the state of his own mind and feelings are interspersed. It is termed " a Narrative" by Mr. Martyn ; and it was probably his intention to have enlarged it, for the use of the public, had his life been spared, or perhaps to have communicated it, nearly in its origi- nal shape, to his intimate friends. From the style and manner of it, at least, it may be presumed not to have been exclusively intended, as the journals above mentioned evidently were, for his own recollection and benefit. The greater part of the last mentioned papers were upon the point of being destroyed by the writer on his undertaking his voyage to Persia, but, happily, he was prevailed upon by the Rev. D. b ADVERTISEMENT. Corrie to confide them under a seal to his care, and by him they were transmitted from India to the Rev. C. Simeon and J. Thornton, Esq. Mr. Marty n's ex- ecutors, in the year 1814. " The Narrative," which was sent by Mr. Morier from Constantinople, came into their hands in the following year. Such are the materials from which I have compiled the present memoir — throughout the whole of which I have en- deavored, as much as possible, to let Mr. Martyn speak for himself, and thus to exhibit a genuine pic' ture of his own mind. In making a selection from a mass of such valu- able matter, it has been my anxious wish and sincere prayer that it might prove subservient to the inte- rests of true religion. One principal object with me has been, to render it beneficial to those disinterested ministers of the Gospel, who, " with the Bihle in their hand, and their Savior in their hearts," devote themselves to the great cause for which Mr. Mar- tyn lived and died: and truly, if the example here delineated should excite any of those servants of Christ to similar exertion, or if it should animate and encourage them amidst the multiplied difKcul- ties of their arduous course, my labor will receive ar> eminent and abundant recompense. J. S. MEMOIR. CHAPTER I. Early life op hexry martyn. — successful ACADE^^CAL CAREER. — RELIGIOUS IMPRESSIONS. It has been well observed by one* who took a pro- found view of human nature, that there are three very different orbits in which great men move and shine ; and that each sphere of greatness has its respective admirers. There are those, who, as heroes, fill the world with their exploits; they are greeted by the acclamations of the multitude; they are ennobled whilst living, and their names descend with lustre to posterity. Others there are, who, by the brilliancy of their imagination or the vigor of their intellect, attain to honor of a purer and a higher kind; the fame of these is confined to a more select number; for all have not a discriminating sense of their merit. A third de- scription remains, distinct from both of the former, and far more exalted than either ; whose excellence consists in a renunciation of themselves and a com- passionate love for mankhid. In this order the Savior of the world was pleased to appear; and those per- sons obtain the highest rank in it, who, by his grace, are enabled most closely to imitate his example. * PascaL S MExMOIR OF Henry Martyn, the subject of this Memoir, was born at Truro, in the county of Cornwall, on the 18th of February, 1781, and appears, with his family in general, to have inherited a weak constitution ; as, of many children, four only, two sons and two daughters, survived their la! her, Mr. John Martyn, and all of these, within a !-tiort period, followed him to the grave. Of these, Henry was the third. His father was oris[inally in a very humble situation of life, having been a laborer m the mines of Gwenap, the place of his nativity. With no education but such as a coun- try reading school afforded, he was compelled to en- gage, for his daily support, in an employment, which, dreary and unhealthy as it was, offered some advan- tages, of which he most meritoriously availed him- self. The miners, it seems, are in the habit of work- ing and resting alternately ever}^ four hours; and the periods of relaxation from manual labor they fre- quently devote to mental improvement. In these in- tervals of cessation from toil. John Martyn acquired a complete knowledge of arithmetic, and also some ac- quaintance with mathematics; and no sooner had he gathered these valuable and substantial fruits of per- severing diligence in a soil most unfriendly to their growth, than he was raised from a state of poverty and depression to one of comparative ease and com- fort. Being admitted to the office of Mr. Daniel, a merchant of Truro, he lived there as chief clerk, very respectably, enjoying considerably more than a com- petency. At the grammar school in this town, the master of which was the Rev. Cornelius Cardew, D. D. a gentleman of learning and talents, Henry was HENRY MARTY N. 9 placed by his father, in midsummer, 1788, being then between seven and eight years of age. Of his child- hood, previous to this period, little or nothing can be ascertained ; but those who knew him considered him to be a boy of promising abilities. Upon his first entering the school, Dr. Cardew ob- serves, that "he did not fail to answer the expecta- tions which had been formed of him : his proficiency in the classics exceeded that of most of his school- fellows; yet there were boys who made a more rapid progress ; not perhaps that their abilities were supe- rior, but their application was greater ; for he was of a lively, cheerful temper, and, as I have been told by those who sat near him, appeared to be the idlest among them ; being frequently known to go up to his lesson with little or no prepaiation — as if he had learned it by intuition." In all schools there are boys, it is well known, who, from natural softness of spirit, inferiority in point of bodily strength, or an unusual thirst for literary ac- quirements, become much secluded from the rest; and such boys are generally exposed to the ridicule and oppression of their associates. Henry Martyn^ though not at that time eminently studious, was one of this class ; he seldom joined the other boys in their pastimes, in which he was not an adept ; and he often suffered from the tyranny of those older and stronger than himself. " Little Harry Martyn," (for by that name he usu- ally went,) says one of his earliest friends and com- panions, "was in a manner proverbial among his school-fellows for a peculiar tenderness and inoffen- 10 MEMOIR OF siveness of spirit, which exposed him to the ill offices of many overbearing boys; and as there was at times some peevishness in his manner when attacked, he was often unkindly treated. That he might receive assistance in his lessons, he was placed near one of the upper boys, with whom he contracted a friend- ship which lasted through life, and whose imagina- tion readily recalls the position in which he used to sit, the thankful expression of his affectionate counte- nance when he happened to be helped out of some difficulty, and a thousand other little incidents of his boyish days." Besides assisting him in his exercises, his friend, it is added, '" had often the happiness of rescuing him from the grasp of oppressors, and has never seen more feeling gratitude evinced than was shown by him on those occasions." At this school, under the same excellent tuition, Henry remained till he was between fourteen and fif- teen years of age; at which period he was induced to offer himself as a candidate for a vacant scholarship at Corpus Christi College, Oxford. Young as he was, he went there alone, without any interest in the Univer- sity, and with only a single letter to one of the tutors ; and while there, he acquitted himself so well, though strongly and ably opposed, that in the opinion of some of the examiners he ought to have been elected. How often is the hand of God seen in frustrating our fondest designs! Had success attended him, the whole circumstances of his after-hfe would have been varied ; and however his temporal interests might have been promoted, his spiritual interests would probably have sustained a proportionate Joss. HENRY MARTYN. 11 It was with sensations of this kind that he himself, many years afterwards, reverted to this disappoint- ment. " In the autumn of 1795," he says, in an ac- count prefixed to his private Journal of the year 1803, "my father, at the persuasion of many of his friends, sent me to Oxford, to be a candidate for the vacant scholarship at Corpus Christi. I entered at no college, but had rooms at Exeter College, by the interest of Mr. Cole, the Sub-Rector. I passed the examination, I believe, tolerably well : but was unsuccessful, having every reason to think that the decision was impartial. Had I remained, and become a member of the Uni- versity at that time, as I should have done in case of success, the profligate acquaintances I had there would have introduced me to scenes of debauchery, in which I must, in all probability, from my extreme youth, have sunk for ever." After this repulse, Henry returned home, and con- tinued to attend Dr. Cardew's school till June, 1797. That he had made no inconsiderable progress there, was evident from the very creditable examination he passed at Oxford ; and in the two years subsequent to this, he must have greatly augmented his fund of clas- sical knowledge ; but it seems not to have been till after he had commenced his academical career, that his su- periority of talent was fully discovered. The signal success of that friend who had been his guide and protector at school, led him, in the spring of this year, to direct his views towards the University of Cam- bridge, which he probably preferred to that of Ox- ford, because he hoped there to profit by the advice and assistance to which he was already so much in- 12 MEMOIR 0? debted. Whatever might be the cause of this prefer- ence, it certainly did not arise from any predilection for mathematics : for he confesses that, in the autumn before he went to Cambridge, instead of the study of Euclid and Algebra, one part of the day was dedica- ted to his favorite employment of shooting, and the other to reading, for the most part. Travels, and Lord Chesterfield's Letters ;—" attributing to a want of taste for mathematics, what ought to have been as- cribed to idleness ; and having his mind in a roving, dissatisfied, restless condition, seeking his chief plea- sure in reading and in human praise." His residence at St. John's College, where his name had been previously entered in the summer, com- menced in the month of October, 1797; and it may tend to show how little can be determined from first attempts, to relate that Henry Martyn began his ma- thematical pursuits by attempting to commit the pro- positions of Euclid to memory. The endeavor may be considered as a proof of the confidence he himself en- tertained in the reterttive powers of his mind ; but it certainly did not supply an auspicious omen of future excellence. On his introduction to the University, happily for him, the friend of his ' boyish days' became the coun- selor of his riper years ; nor was this important act of friendship either lost upon him at the time, or ob- literated from his memory in after life. " During the ilrst term," he has recorded in his Journal, " I was kept a good deal in idleness by some of my new ac- quaintai.ces, but the kind attention of K was a principal means of n\y preservation from excess." HENRY MARTY.X. 13 That his time was far from being wholly misem- ployed, between October and Christmas, is evident from the place he obtained in the first class at the public examination of his college in December ; a cir- cumstance which, joined to the extreme desire he had to gratify his father, encouraged and excited him to study with increased alacrity ; and as the fruit of this application, at the next public examination in the summer, he reached the second station in the first class; a point of elevation which "flattered his pride not a little." The tenor of Henry Martyn's hfe, during this and the succeeding year, would, in the eye of the world, be considered to have been amiable and commenda- ble. He was outwardly moral ; was, with little excep- tion, unwearied in application ; and exhibited marks of no ordinary talent. One exception to this statement is to be found in an irritability of temper, increased, if not engendered by the treatment he had met with at school. These ebullitions of passion had, on one occa- sion, nearly proved fatal to a friend — the late excel- lent Mr. Cotterill (afterwards minister of St. Paul's Church, SheiReid.) He barely escaped the point of a knife, which, thrown by the hand of Henry Martyn, most providentially missed him, and was left trem- bhng in the wall. If, from this unsubdued impetuosity of temper, we pass to his avowed and fixed principles, — these, as might well be expected, evince him to have been living at this time ' without God in the world.' The consideration that God chiefly regards the mo- tives of our actions— a consideration so momentous, and so essential to the character of a real Christian — 2 14 MEMOIR OP appears as yet never to have entered his mind ; and even when it did, as was the case at this time, it rest- ed there as a theoretic notion, which was never meant to be reduced to practice. His own account of him- self is very striking. Speaking of June, 1799, he says, " K (the friend alluded to before) attempted to persuade me that I ought to attend to reading, not for the praise of men, but for the glory of God. This seemed strange to me, but reasonable. I resolved therefore, to maintain this opinion thenceforth ; but never designed, that I remember, that it should affect my conduct.^' What a decisive mark this of an unre- newed mind! — what an afiecting proof that light may break in upon the understanding, whilst there is not so much as the dawn of it on the heart ! Providentially for Henry Martyn, he had not only the great blessing of possessing a religious friend at college, but he possessed likewise the happiness of having a sister in Cornwall, who was a Christian of a meek, heavenly, and affectionate spirit : to whom, as well as to the rest of his relations there, he paid a visit in the summer of the year 1799, carrying with him no small degree of academical honor, though not all that he had fondly and ambitiously expected. He had lost the prize for themes in his college, and was only se- cond again in the first class at the public examination,' when he had hoped to have been first ; — a " double disappointment," to use his own words, " which net- tled him to the quick." It may be well supposed that to a sister, such as we have described, her brother's spiritual welfare would be a most serious and anxious concern : and that she often conversed with him on HENRY MARTYN. 15 the subject of religion, we learn from his own decla- ration. " I went home this summer, and was frequently addressed by my dear sister on the subject of religion ; but the sound of the Gospel conveyed in the admoni- tion of a sister, was grating to my ears." The first re- sult of her tender exhortations and earnest endeavors was very discouraging: a violent conflict took place in her brother's mind, between his conviction of the truth of what she urged, and his love of the world ; and for the present, the latter prevailed. Yet sisters, similarly circumstanced, may learn from this case, not merely their duty, but also, from ihe fmal result the success they may anticipate — in the faithful dis- charge of it. " I think," he observes, when afterwards reviewing this period with a spirit truly broken and contrite, " I do not remember a time in which the wickedness of my heart rose to a greater height than during my stay at home. The consummate selfishness and exquisite irritability of my mind were displayed in rage, malice, and envy ; in pride, and vain glory and contempt of all ; in the harshest language to my sister, and even to my father, if he happened to differ from my mind and will. O what an example of pa- tience and mildness was he ! I love to think of his ex- cellent qualities, and it is frequently the anguish of my heart that I ever could be so base and wicked as to pain him by the slightest neglect. O my God and Father, why is not my heart doubly agonized at the remembrance of all my great transgressions against thee ever since I have known thee as such! — I left my sister and father in October, and him I saw no more, I promised my sister that I would read the Bible for 16 MEMOIR OF myself, but on being settled at college, Newton en- gaged all my thoughts." At length, however, it pleased God to convince Henry, by a most atfecting visitation of his providence, that there was a knowledge far more important to him than any human science ; and to lead him, whilst contemplating the heavens by the light of astronomy, to devote himself to His service, who, having made those heavens, and having left them for man's salva- tion, is now again exalted to the right hand of God, as his Mediator and Advocate. The sudden and heart- rending intelligence of the death of his father, was the proximate, though doubtless not the efficient cause of his receiving these convictions. How poignant were his sufferings under this affliction may be seen in the account he himself has left of it: from whence it is evident that it was a season, not only of severe but of sanctified sorrow — a seed-time of tears, promising that harvest of holiness, peace, and joy, which succeed- ed it. '' At the examination at Christmas, 1799," he writes, " I was first, and the account of it pleased my father prodigiously, who, I was told, was in great health and spirits. What then was my consternation, when, in January, I received from my brother an account of his death ! But while I mourned the loss of an earthly })arent, the angels in heaven were rejoicing at my be- ing so soon to find a heavenly one. As I had no taste at this time for my usual studies, I took up my Bible, thinking that the consideration of religion was rather suitable to this solemn time ; nevertheless,! often took up other books to engage my attention, and should HENRY MARTYN. 17 have continued to do so, had not K advised me to make this time an occasion of serious reflection. I be- gan with the Acts, as being the most amusing ; and whilst I was entertained with the narrative, I found myself insensibly led to inquire more attentively into the doctrines of the Apostles. These corresponded nearly enough with the few notions I had received in my early youth. I believe, on the first night after, I began to pray from a precomposed form, in which I thanked God, in general, for having sent Christ into the world. But though I prayed for pardon, I had little sense of my own sinfulness ; nevertheless, I be- gan to consider myself a religious man. The first time after this that I went to chapel, I saw, with some de- gree of surprise at my former inattention, that in the Magnificat* there was a great degree of joy expressed at the coming of Christ, which I thought but reason- able. K had lent me Doddridge's Rise and Pro- gress, the first part of which I could not bear to read, because it appeared to make religion consist too much in humiliation ; and my proud and wicked heart would not bear to be brought down into the dust. And K , to whom I mentioned the gloom which I felt after reading the first part of Doddridge, repro- bated it strongly. Alas ! did he think that we can go along the way that leadeth unto life, without entering in at the ' strait gate V " It was not long after Henry had been called to en- dure this gracious, though grievous, chastening from above, that the public exercises commenced in the " * My soul doth magnify the Lord," &c. Luke, 1 : 46. 2* 18 MEMOIR OP University ; and although his greatest stimulus to ex- ertion was removed by the loss of his father, whom it was his most anxious desire still to please, he again de- voted himself to his mathematical studies with un- wearied diligence. That spiritual danger exists in an intense application of the mind to these studies, he was so deeply sensible at a later period of his life, as, on a review of this particular time, most gratefully to acknowledge that " the mercy of God prevented the extinction of that spark of grace which his Spirit had kindled." At the moment of his exposure to this peril, he was less conscious of it : but we may perceive from the following letter to his youngest sister, that he was not wholly devoid of circumspection on this head. Having shortly, and with much simplicity, announced that his name stood first upon the list at the college examination of the summer of the year 1800, he thus expresses himself: "What a blessing it is for me, that I have such a sister as you, my dear S , who have been so instrumental in keeping me in the right way ! When I consider how little human assistance you have had, and the great knowledge to which you have at- tained on the subject of religion — especially observing the extreme ignorance of the most wise and learned of this world — I think this is itself a proof of the won- derful influence of the Holy Ghost on the mind of well disposed persons. It is certainly by the Spirit alone that we can have the will, or power, or knowledge, or confidence to pray ; and by Him alone we come unto the Father through Jesus Christ. ' Through Him we both have access by one Spirit unto the Father.' How I rejoice to find that we disagreed only about words I HENRY MARTYN. 19 I did not doubt, as you suppose, at all about that joy which true believers feel. Can there be any one sub- ject, any one source of cheerfulness and joy, at all to be compared with the heavenly serenity and comfort which such a person must find, in holding communion with his God and Savior in prayer — in addressing God as his Father — and, more than all, in the trans- porting hope of being preserved unto everlasting life, and of singing praises to his Redeemer when time shall be no more ? Oh ! I do indeed feel this state of mind at times ; but at other times I feel quite humbled at finding myself so cold and hard-hearted. That reluc- tance to prayer, that unwillingness to come unto God, who is the fountain of all good, when reason and ex- perience tell us that with him only true pleasure is to be found, seem to be owing to Satanic influence. Though I think my employment in life gives me pe- culiar advantages, in some respects, wuth regard to re- ligious knowledge ; yet with regard to having a prac- tical sense of things on the mind, it is by far the worst of any. For the laborer, as he drives on his plough, and the weaver, as he works at his loom, may have his thoughts entirely disengaged from his work, and may think with advantage upon any religious subject. But the nature of our studies requires such a deep abstrac- tion of the mind from all things, as to render it com- pletely incapable of any thing else, and that during many hours of the day. With respect to the dealings of the Almighty v/ilh me, you have heard in general the chief of my account; as I am brought to a sense of things gradually, there is nothing peculiarly striking in it to particularize. After the death of our father, 20 MEMOIR OF you know I was extremely low-spirited j and, like most other people, began to consider seriously, with- out any particular determination, that invisible world to which he was gone, and to which I must one day go. Yet I still read the Bible unenlightened; and said a prayer or two, rather through terror of a superior power than from any other cause. Soon, however, I began to attend more diligently to the words of our Savior in the New Testament, and to devour them with delight ; when the offers of mercy and forgiveness were made so freely, I supplicated to be made par- taker of the covenant of grace, with eagerness and hope : and thanks be to the ever-blessed Trinity for not leaving me without comfort. Throughout the whole, however, even when the light of divine truth was beginning to dawn on my mind, I was not under that great terror of future punishment which I now see plainly 1 had every reason to feel : I look back now upon that course of wickedness which, like a gulf of destruction, yawned to swallow me up, with a trem- bling delight, mixed with shame at having lived so long in ignorance, and error, and blindness. I could say mucii more, my dear S , but I have no more room. I have only to express my acquiescence in most of your opinions, and to join with you m gratitude to God for his mercies to us : may he preserve you, and me, and all of us, to the day of the Lord !" How cheering to his sister must it have been, to re- ceive, at a moment of deep sorrow, such a communi- cation as this, indicating a state of mind not thorough- ly instructed, indeed, in the mystery of faith, but fully alive to the supreme importance of religion 1 How sa- HENRV MARTYN. 21 lutary to his own mind to have possessed so near a re- lation, to whom he could thus freely open the work- ings of his heart ! But the chief cause, under God, of his stability at this season in those religious principles which, by divine grace, he had adopted, was evidently that constant attendance, which he now commenced, on the ministry of the Rev. Charles Simeon, at Trinity Church, in Cambridge ; under whose truly pastoral in- struction, he himself declares that he " gradually ac- quired more knowledge in divine things." In the retrospect which Henry afterwards took of this part of his life, he seems sometimes ready to suspect a want of growth, and almost a want of vitality in his religion ; but though there may have been some ground for the former of these suspicions, there certainly was none, whatever his humility may have suggested, for the latter. " I can only account," he says, " for my be- ing stationary so long, by the intenseness with which I pursued my studies, in which I was so absorbed, that the time I gave to them seemed not to be a portion of my existence. That in which I now see I was lamen- tably deficient, was a humble and contrite spirit, in which I should have perceived more clearly the excel- lency of Christ, The eagerness too, with which 1 looked forward to the approaching examination for degrees, too clearly betrayed a heart not dead to the world." That a public examination for a degree in the Uni- versity must be a time of painful solicitude to those about to pass through it, is obvious ; especially when great expectations have been raised, and worldly pros- pects are likely to be seriously affected by the event. 22 MEMOIR OF From Henry Martyn much was expected ; and had he altogether failed, his temporal interests would have materially suffered. Nor was he naturally insensible to those perturbations which are apt to arise in a youth- ful and ambitious breast. It happened, however, (as he was frequently known to assert,) that upon entering the Senate House, in which a larger than the usual proportion of able young men were his competitors, his mind was singularly composed and tranquilized, by the recollection of a sermon which he had heard not long before on the text — " Seekest thou great things for thyself ?— seek them not. saith the Lord." He thus became divested of that extreme anxiety about success, which, by harassing his spirit, must have impeded the free exercise of his powers. His decided superiority in mathematics therefore soon appeared — and the highest academical honor, that of " Senior Wrangler,'' was awarded to him in January, 1801, at which pe- riod he had not completed the twentieth year of his age. Nor is it any disparagement to that honor, or to those who conferred it on him, to record that it was attended in this instance with that sense of disappoint- ment and dissatisfaction to which all earthly blessings are subject. His description of his own feelings on this occasion is very remarkable — "I obtained my highest wishes, but was surprised to find that I had grasped a shadow." So impossible is it for earthly distinctions, though awarded for successful exertions of the intel- lect, to fill and satisfy the mind, especially after it has tasted " the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come." So certain is it, that he who drinks of the water of the well of this life must thirst again, HENRY MARTYN. 23 and that it is the water which springs up to everlasiiTig Ufe which alone affords never-failing refreshment. CHAPTER II. ad^anxement in piety — success in college — tour through Wales to Cornwall — resolves on a missionary life — or- dination. Having thus attained that station of remarkable merit and eminence upon which his eye from the first had been fixed, and for which he had toiled with such astonishing diligence as to be designated in his col- lege as " the man who had not lost an hour," and having received likewise the first of two prizes given annually to the best proficients in mathematics, amongst those bachelors who had just taken their de- gree — in the month of March, Henry again visited Cornwall, where, amidst the joyful greetings and con- gratulations of all his friends, his youngest sister was alone dejected, not witnessing in him that progress in Christian ki^owledge which she had been fondly led to anticipate. Nor ought we to attribute this wholly to that arden- cy of affection which might dispose her to indulge in sanguine and somewhat unreasonable expectations. Those who know what human nature is, even after it «\as been renewed by the Spirit of God, will not deny 24 ME3I01K or that it is more than possible that her bro therms xeal might have somewhat relaxed in the bright sunshine of academical honor : and certain it is that his stan- dard of duty, though superior to that of the world, was at this time far from reaching that degree of ele- vation which it afterwards attained. Who can won- der, then, that a person tremblingly alive to his best interests, should not be wholly free from apprehension, and should be continually urging on his conscience the solemn sanctions of the Gospel, entreating him to aim at nothing less than Christian perfection? Returning to Cambridge in the summer of this year, he passed the season of vacation most profitably : con- strained, happily, to be much aUyiie, he employed his solitary hours in frequent communion with his own heart, and with that gracious Lord who once blessed Isaac and Nathaniel in their secret devotions, and who did not withhold a blessing from his. " God," lie observes, " was pleased to bless the solitude and re- tirement I enjoyed this summer to ray improvement: and not until then had I ever experienced any real pleasure in religion. I was more convinced of sin than ever, more earnest in fleeing to Jesus for refuge, and more desirous of the renewal of my nature." It was during this vacation also that an intimate ac- quaintance commenced, as much distinguished by a truly parental regard on the one hand, as it was by a grateful, reverential, and filial affection on the other. Having long listened with no small degree of pleasure and profit to Mr. Simeon, as a preacher, Henry now began to enjoy the happiness of an admission to the most friendly and unreserved intercourse with himj HENRY MARTYN. 25 and was in the habit of soliciting and receiving, on all important occasions, his counsel and encouragement. By Mr. Simeon's kindness it was that he was now made known to severa. young men, with some of whom he formed the most enduring of all attach- ments — a Christian friendship ; and it was from his conversation and example also that he imbibed his first impressions of the transcendent excellence of the Christian ministry; from which it was but a short step to resolve upon devoting himself to that sacred calling: — for until now he had an intention of apply- ing to the law, "chiefly," he confesses, "because he could not consent to be poor for Ciirist's sake." The great advancement which he had made in ge- nuine piety at this period, from intercourse with real Christians, and above all, from secret communion with his God, is discernible in the following extracts from two letters — the first dated September 15, 1801, and addressed to his earliest friend — the second written a few days afterwards, to his youngest sister. " That you may be enabled to do the will of your heavenly Father, shall be, you may be assured, my constant prayer at the throne of grace; and this, as well from the desire of promoting the edification of Christ's body upon earth, as from motives of private gratitude. You have been the instrument in the hands of Provi- dence of bringing me to a serious sense of things ; for at the time of my father's death, I was using such me- thods of alleviating my sorrow as I almost shudder to recollect. But, blessed be God, I have now experienc- ed that Christ is ' the power of God, and the wisdom of God.' What a blessing is the Gospel ! No heart can 3 26 MEMOIR OP conceive its excellency but that which has been re- newed by divine grace." " I have lately," he writes in the second letter, "been witness to a scene of distress. P , in this town, with whom I have been little acquainted, and who had lived to the full extent of his income, is now dying, and his family will be left perfectly destitute. I called yesterday to know whether he was still alive, and found his wife in a greater agony than you can con- ceive. She was wringing her hands, and crying out to me, ' O pray for his soul !' — and then again recol- lecting her own helpless condition, and telling me of her wretchedness in being turned out upon ihe world without house or home. It was in vain to point to heaven ; the heart, distracted and overwhelmed with worldly sorrow, finds it hard to look to God. Since writing this, I have been to call on the daughters of P , who had removed to another house, because, from the violence of their grief they incommoded the sick man. Thither I went to visit them, with my head and heart full of the subject I was come up- on ; and was surprised to find them cheerful, and thunderstruck to see a gownsman reading a play to them. A play '.—when their father was lying in the agonies of death. What a species of consolation ! I rebuked him so sharply, and I am afraid, so intem- perately, that a quarrel will perhaps ensue. " But it is time that I should take some notice of your letter: when we consider the misery and darkness of the unregenerate world, oh 1 with how much rea- son should we burst out into thanksgiving to God, who has called us, in his mercy, through Christ Jesus j tlKNRY MAttTYN. 27 What are we, ihat we should tlius be made objects of distinguishing grace! Who then, that reflects upon the rock from which he was hewn, but must rejoice lo give himself entirely and without reserve to God, to be sanctified by his Spirit? The soul that has truly experienced the love of God, will not stay meanly in- quiring how much he shall do, and thus limit his ser- vice ; but will be earnestly seeking jnore and more to know the will of our heavenly Father, that he may be enabled to do it. O may we both be thus minded ; may we experience Christ to be our all in all, not only as our Redeemer, but as the fountain of grace. Those passages of the word of God w^hich you have quoted on this head, are indeed awakening ; may they teach us to breathe after holiness, to be more and more dead to the world but alive unto God, through Jesus Christ. We are lights in the world ; how needful, then, that our tempers and lives should manifest our high and heavenly calling ! Let us, as we do, provoke one another to good works, not doubting but that God will bless our feeble endeavors to his glory. " I have to bless him for another mercy I have re- ceived in addition to the multitude of which I am so unworthy, in his having given me a friend indeed, one "who has made much about the same advances in reli- gion as myself We took our degrees together, but Mr. Simeon introduced us to each other. I do not wonder much at the backwardness you complain of before , having never been in much company. But the Christian heart is ever overflowing with good- will to the rest of mankind ; and this temper will pro- duce the truest politeness, of which the aflfected grimace 28 MEJWOIR OF of ungodly men is but the shadow. Besides, the con- fusion felt in company arises in general from vanity : therefore, when this is removed, why should we fear to speak before the whole world . " The gownsman I mentioned, so far from being of- fended, has been thanking me for what I said, and is so seriously impressed with the awful circumstances of death, that I am in hopes it may be the foundation of a lasting change." It will be highly pleasing to the reader to know, that the anticipation with which the above letter concludes was verified. Mr. Martyn had afterwards the happiness of laboring in India together with that very person who had been reproved by him, and who, from the divine blessing accompanying that reproof, was then first led to appreciate the value of the Gospel. From this time to that of proposing himself for ad- mission to a fellowship in his college, Mr. Martyn's engagements consisted chiefiy in instructing some pupils, and in preparing himself for the examination which was to t ike place previous to the election in the month of March, 1802, when he was chosen fellow of St. John's; soon after obtaining which situation, as honorable to the society in the appointment, as it was gratifying to himself, he employed some of his leisure hours, as he expresses it, in writing for one of the prizes which are given to those who have been last admitted Bachelors of Arts : and though there were men of great classical celebrity among those who con- tested the palm with him, the first prize was assigned to him for the best Latin prose composition ; a distinc- tion the more remarkable as from his entrance into HENRY MARTYN. 29 the University, he had directed an unceasmg and al- most undivided attention to mathematics. Having thus added another honor to those for which he had before been so signally distinguished, Mr, Martyn departed from Cambridge, on a visit to his relations in Corn- wall; making a circuit on foot through Wenlock, Li- verpool, and the vale of Langollen. Of this tour (on which he was first attended by one of his friends) he has left a Journal, briefly and hastily written, from which a iew extracts, illustrative of his character, may prove not uninteresting. " July 9, 1802. — We walked into Wenlock, along a most romantic road. My mind during these three days has been less distracted than I expected ; and I have had, at times, a very cheering sense of the presence of my God. "July 17. — I went on board a little sloop, and be- gan to beat down the Mersey. The Mersey is here more than four miles broad, and the wind now increas- ing almost to a storm, the ship was a scene of confu- sion. One wave broke over us, and wetted me com- pletely through. I think there was some danger, though the composure I felt did not arise, I fear, so much from a sense of my acceptance with God, as from thinking the danger not to be great. I had still sufficiently near views of death to be uneasy at considering how sloth- ful I had been in doing the Lord's work, and how little meetness I possessed for the kingdom of glory. Learn then, my soul, to be always ready for the coming of the Lord ; that no disquieting fear may arise to per- plex thee in that awful hour. " July 23.— Holy well. Found myself very low and 3* 30 MEMOIR OF meiancholy. If this arises from solitude, I have little pleasure to expect from my future tour. I deserve to be miserable, and I wish to be so if ever I seek my pleasure in any thing but God. " July 25. — Carewys. I did not go to church this morning, as the service was in Welch ; but went through the church service at home : in the evening read Isaiah. " July 29. — Aber, Walked two miles into the coun- try to see a waterfall. I followed the course of the stream, which soon brought me to it. The water falls three times from the top — the last fall appeared to be about seventy feet. While lingering about here, I was put into great terror by some huge stones rolling down the hill behind me. They were thrown down by some persons above, v/ho could not approach near enough to the precipice to see me below. The slipperiness of the rocks, on which the spring is continually falling, put me in danger. " The beautiful and retired situation of the inn at Aber, which commands an extensive view of the sea, made me unwilling to leave the house. However, I set off at eleven, and paced leisurely to Bangor. It was a remarkably clear day. The sun shone on every object around me, and the sea breeze tempered the air. I felt happy at the sight, and could not help being struck with the beauty of the creation and the goodness of the God of nature. "July 31. — Bethgelert. The descent, after ascend- ing Snowdon, was easy enough, but I cannot describe the horror of the ascent. The deep darkness of the night, the howling of the wind in the chasms of the HENRY MAKTYN- 31 rocks, the violence of the rain, and the sullen silence of the guide, who was someiimes so far back that I could hardly see him, all conspired to make the whole appear a dream. " — Pont Aberglasslen. I met a poor Welch pedlar, with a bundle of hats on his back, who, on my inquir- ing the distance to Tan-y-Bwlch, told me he was going thither. He went by the old road, which is two miles nearer. It passes over the most dreary, uncultivated feills I ever saw, where there is scarcely any mark of human industry. The road in most places is over- grown with grass. The poor m.an had walked from Carnarvon that day, with an enormous bundle; and pointed with a sorrowful look to his head ; and indeed he did look very ill ; he was however very cheerful : what difference in this man's temper and my own ! The difference was humbling to myself: when shall I learn ' in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content V " August 5. — My walk for ten miles was similar to that of the preceding evening, only still more beautiful, for the Dovey widened continually, and the opposite hills were covered with wood : at last, the river fell into the sea, and the view was then fine indeed ; the weather was serene, and the sea unruffled. I felt little fatigue; and so my thoughts were turned to God. But if I can- not be thankful to him, and be sensible of his presence in seasons of fatigue, how can I distinguish the work- ing of the Spirit from the ebullitions of animal joy?" It is in scenes and seasons of solitude and relaxation, such as those here described, that the true bias of the mind is apt to discover itself; in which point of view 32 ME?-iom OF 1 the above account is important; for, short as it is, it evinces an liabitual devotedness to the fear of God, and great spirituality in the affections. This tour terminated in bringing Mr. Martyn to the bosom of his family ; and days more delightful than those which he then spent, he never saw in this world. The affectionate reception he met with from his friends ; the pious conversation he held with his sister on the things dearest to his heart ; his sacred retirements ; and the happy necessity imposed upon him of almost ex- clusively studying the word of God — all conspired to promote his felicity. These hours left for a long time " a fragrancy upon his mind, and the remembrance of them was sweet." " As my sister and myself," he remarks, " were im- proved in our attainments, we tasted much agreeable intercourse. I did not stay much at Truro, on account of my brother's family of children; but at Woodbery, with my brother-in-law, I passed some of the sweetest moments of my life. The deep solitude of the place favored meditation ; and the romantic scenery around supplied great external sources of pleasure. For want of other books I was obliged to read my Bible almost exclusively; and from this I derived great spirituality of mind, compared with what I had felt before." In the beginning of October. 1802, all these tranquil and domestic joys were exchanged for the severer en- gagements of the University ; and the conclusion of this year constituted a memorable era in Mr. Martyn's life. We have already seen him becoming the servant of Christ, dedicating himself to the ministry of the Gospel, experiencing the consolations of real religion, HENRY .MARTY N. S3 exhibiting its genuine fruits; we are now to behold him in a yet higher character, and giving the most ex- alted proofs of faith and love. God, who has appointed different orders and degrees in his church, and who assigns to all the members of it their respective stations, was at this time pleased, by the almighty and gracious influence of his Spirit, to call the subject of this memoir to a work demanding the most painful sacrifices and the most arduous exer- tions — that of a Christian missionary. The immediate cause of his determination to undertake this ofiice, was hearing the Rev. Mr. Simeon remark on the benefit which had resulted from the services of Dr. Carey in India; his attention was thus arrested, and his thoughts occupied with the vast importance of the subject. Soon after which, perusing the life of David Brainerd,* who preached with apostolical zeal and success to the North American Indians, and who finished a course of self- denying labors for his Redeemer, with unspeakable joy, at the early age of thirty-two, his soul was filled with a holy emulation of that extraordinary man ; and, after deep consideration and fervent prayer, he was at length fixed in a resolution to imitate his example. Nor let it be conceived that he could adopt this reso- lution without the severest conflict in his mind : for he was endued with the truest sensibility of heart, and was susceptible of the warmest and tenderest attach- ments. No one could exceed him in love for his coun- try, or in affection for his friends ; and few could sur- pass him in an exquisite relish for the various and re- fined enjoyments of a social and literary life. How * Published by the American Tract Society. 34 MEMOm OF then could it fail of being a moment of extreme an- guish, when he came to the deliberate resolution of leaving for ever all he held dear upon earth? But he was fully satisfied that the glory of that Savior, who loved him and gave himself for him, would be pro- moted by his going forth to preach to the heathen ; he considered their pitiable and perilous condition ; he thought on the value of their immortal souls ; he re- membered the last solemn injunction of his Lord, 'Go and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost;' an in- junction never revoked, and commensurate with that most encouraging promise, ' Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.' Actuated by these mo- tives, he offered himself in the capacity of a missionary to the Society for Missions to Africa and the East ; and from that time stood prepared, v;ith a childlike sim- plicity of spirit, and an unshaken constancy of soul, to go to any part of the world, whither it might be deem- ed expedient to send him. The following letter to his youngest sister, written not long after the adoption of a resolution so self-de- nying in its character, and more particularly some passages copiously extracted from his private journal, will strikingly exhibit the varied exercises of his mind at this interesting and most trying juncture. From these it will be seen that he steadily contemplated the sacrifices he must make, and the difficulties he might encounter; that though sometimes cast down, he was yet upheld in the prospect of his great work, by Him who had called him to it ; that his notions of the cha- racter of a missionary were elevated — his supplications HENRY MARTYN. for grace and mercy incessant — his examinations ot his own heart, deep, and sober, and searching; in one word, that he was a man of God, emmently endued with ' the spirit of power, of love, and of a sound mind.' " I received your letter yesterday, and thank God for the concern you manifest for my spiritual welfare. that we may love each other more in the Lord. The passages you bring from the word of God were appro- priate to my case, particularly those from the first Epistle of St. Peter, and that to the Ephesians ; though 1 do not seem to have given you a right view of my state. The dejection I sometimes labor under seems not to arise from doubts of my acceptance with God, though it tends to produce them ; nor from despond- ing views of my ov/n backwardness in the divine life, for I am more prone to self-dependence and conceit; but from the prospect of the difficulties I have to en- counter in the whole of my future life. The thought that I must be unceasingly employed in the same kind of work, amongst poor ignorant people, is what my proud spirit revolts at. To be obliged to submit to a thousand uncomfortable things that must happen to me, whether as a minister or a missionary, is what the flesh cannot endure. At these times I feel neither love to God nor love to man, and in proportion as these graces of the Spirit languish, my besetting sins — pride, and discontent, and unwillingness for every duty — make me miserable. " You will best enter into my views by considering those texts which serve to recall me to a right aspect of things. I have not that coldness in prayer you would expect, but generally find myself strengthened S6 MEMOIR OP ill faith and humility and love after it : but the impres« sion is so short ! I am at this time enabled to give my- self, body, soul, and spirit, to God, and perceive it to be my most reasonable service. How it may be vi'heii the trial comes, I know not, yet I will trust and not be afraid. In order to do his will cheerfully, I want love for the souls of men ; to suffer it, I want humili- ty : let these be the subjects of your supplications for me. I am thankful to God that you are so free from anxiety and care : we cannot but with praise acknow* ledge his goodness. What does it signify whether we be rich or poor, if we are sons of God? How uncon- scious are they of their real greatness — and they will be so till they find themselves in glory ! When we contemplate our everlasting inheritance, it seems too good to be true; yet it is no more than is due to the kindred of ' God manifest in the flesh.' " A journey I took last week into Norfolk seems to have contributed greatly to my health. The attention and admiration shown me are great and very dan- gerous. The praises of men do not now, indeed, flatter my vanity as they formerly did ; I rather feel pain, through anticipation of their consequences : but they tend to produce, imperceptibly, a self-esteem and hard- ness of heart. How awful and awakening a considera- tion is it, that God judgeth not as man judgeth ! Our character before him is precisely as it was, before or after any change of external circumstances. Men may applaud or revile, and make a man think differently of himself; but He judgeth of a man according to his secret walk. How difficult is the work of self-exami- nation ! Even to state to you, imperfectly, my own EIENRY MAUTYN. 37 mind, I found to be no easy matter. Nay, St. Paul says, ' I judge not my own self, for he that judgeth me is the Lord.' That is, though he was not conscious of any allowed sin, yet he was not thereby justified, for God might perceive something of which he was not aware. How needful, then, the prayer of the Psalmist, ' Search me, O God, and try my heart, and see if there be any evil way 'in me.' May God be with you, and bless you, and uphold you with the right hand of his righteousness; and let us seek to love; for 'he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, for God is love.' " In a journal replete with sentiments of most ardent piety, we meet with the following reflections, recorded in the interval between the latter end of the year 1802, the time when he first resolved to serve Christ as a missionary, and the autumn of the year 1803, when he received ordination. But let us hear his reasons for keeping such a record of the state of his mind : — " I am convinced that Chris- tian experience is not a delusion ; whether mine is so or not will be seen at the last day ; and my object in making this journal, is to accustom myself to self- examination, and to give my experience a visible form, so as to leave a stronger impression on the memory, and thus to improve my soul in holiness; for the re- view of such a lasting testimony will serve the double purpose of conviction and consolation." Divided as Christians are in judgment respecting the general utility of a religious diary, there can be but one opinion amongst them respecting the uncommon excellence of the following observations. " Since I have endeavored to divest myself of every 4 38 MEMOIR OF consideration independent of religion, I see the diffi- culty of maintaining a liveliness in devotion for any considerable time together ; nevertheless, as I shall have to pass the gi eater part of my future life, after leaving England, with no other source of happiness than reading, meditation, and prayer, I think it right to be gradually mortifying myself to every species of worldly pleasure*"' — " In all my past life, I have fixed on some desirable ends, at dilferent distances, the at- tainment of which was to furnish me with happiness. But now, in seasons of unbelief, nothing seems to lie before me but one vast uninteresting wilderness, and heaven appearing but dimly at the end. Oh ! how does this show the necessity of living by faith ' What a shame that I cannot make the doing of God's will my ever-delightful object ; and the prize of my high call- ing the mark after which I press !" " I was under disquiet at the prospect of my future work, encompassed, as it appeared, with difficulties; but I trusted I was under the guidance of infinite wis- dom, and on that I could rest. Mr. Johnson, who had returned from a mission, observed that the crosses to be endured were far greater than could be conceived : but ' none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto me, so that I might finish my course with joy. Had some disheartening thoughts al night, at Ihe prospect of being stripped of every earthly com- fort ; but who is it that maketh my comforts to be a source of enjoyment? Cannot the same hand make cold and hunger, and nakedness and peril, to be a train of ministering angels, conducting me to glory ?" — " O my soul, compare thyself with St. Paul, and with the HENRY MARTYN. 39 example and precepts of the Lord Jesus Christ. Was it not his meat and drink to do the will of his heavenly- Father ?" " Finished the account of Dr. Vanderkemp, and longed to be sent to China. But I may reasonably doubt the reality of every gracious affection, they are so like the morning cloud, and transient as the early dew. If I had the true love of souls, 1 should long and labor for those around me, and afterwards for the con- version of the heathen." " I had distressing thoughts about the little pros- pect of happiness in my future life. Though God has not designed man to be a solitary being, yet surely the child of God would delight to pour out his soul for whole days together before God. Stir up my soul to lay hold on Thee, and remove from me the cloud of ignorance and sin that hides from me the glory of Jehovah, the excellency of my God." — " I found But- ler's Analogy useful in encouraging me to self-denial, by the representation he gives of this life, as a state of discipline for a better." — " Since adopting the Gospel as the ground of my hope and the rule of my life, I feel the force of the argument drawn from its exalted morality. In so large a work as the Bible, by so many writers, in such different ages, never to meet with any thing puerile or inconsistent with their own views of the Deity, is a circumstance unparalleled in any other book." — " Respecting what is called the experience of Christians, it is certain that we have no reason, from the mere contemplation of the operations of our own minds, to ascribe them to an extrinsic agent, because they arise from their proper causes, and are directed 40 MEMOIR OF to their proper ends. The truth or falsehood of pre- tences to the experience of divine agency, must depend on the truth or falsehood of Scripture ; that warrants us sufficiently, for it informs us that it is ' God that worketh in us, both to will and to do, of his good plea- sure;' which passage, while it asserts the reality of God's influence, points out also the manner of his act- ing, for he works in us to will before he works in us to do. This effectually guards against fanaticism, for no one will pretend that he can ever put his finger on those mysterious springs which move the will, or knows what they be ; and therefore he cannot say, now God is exerting his influence. He may reasonably, indeed, and ought to ascribe every good thought to God; but still every good thing in him is but the effect of something preceding his first perception, therefore is posterior to the moving cause, which must hence be for ever concealed from the immediate knowledge of man." — " H came, and we resumed our exercises of reading and prayer. Though it be true that the more strict our obedience is, the more evidently does the imperfection of it appear, yet I think it reasonable to be thankful that I have received grace to stir one single step this day towards the kingdom of heaven." " After my prayers, my mind seems touched with hu- mility and love ; but the impression decays so soon ! Resolved for the future to use more watchfulness in reading and prayer." — "My prayers have been fre- quent of late, but I cannot realize the presence of the Almighty God : I have not enjoyed communion with him, or else there would not be such strangeness in my heart towards the world to come." — " In mv walk out, HENRY MARTYN- 41 and during the remainder of the day, the sense of ray own weakness and worthlessness called me to watch- fulness, and dependence on the grace of Christ." — " My soul rather benumbed than humble and contrite; tired with watchfulness, though so short and so feeble" — " sudden flashes of faint affection to-day, which raised self-satisfaction, but no abiding humiliation."—" Talk- ed with much contemptuous severity about conformity to the world; alas! all that is done in this way had better be left undone." — " This was a day when I could only by transient glimpses perceive that all things were 'loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord.' " "I am not conscious of any particular backsliding from God ; I think my prayers have been more earn- est; yet the views of my own heart have produced, not humility, but discontent, I suppose because they are grating to pride." — " What is the state of my own soul before God ? I believe that it is right in princi- ple : I desire no other portion but God : but I pass so many hours as if there were no God at all. I live far below the hope, comfort, and holiness of the Gospel ; but be not slothful, O my soul ! — look unto Jesus, the author and finisher of thy faith. For whom was grace intended, if not for me? Are not the promises made to me ? Is not my Maker in earnest, when he declar- eth that he willeth my sanctification, and hath laid help on one that is mighty ? I will therefore have no confidence in the flesh, but will rejoice in the Lord, and the joy of the Lord shall be my strength. May I receive from above a pure, a humble, a benevolent, a heavenly mind !" 4» 42 MEMOIR OF "Rose at half past five, and walked a little before chapel, in a happy frame of mind. Endeavored to maintain affectionate thoughts of God as my Father, on awaicening in the morning. Setting a watch over my first thoughts, and endeavoring to make them humble and devout, I find to be an excellent prepara- tion for prayer, and for a right spirit during the day. I vvas in a happy frame most of the day ; towards the evening, from seeking to maintain this right state by my own strength, instead of giving it permanency by faith in Jesus, I grew tired and very insensible to most things. At chapel the sacred melody wafted my soul to heaven : the blessedness of heaven appeared so sweet, that the very possibility of losing it appeared terrible, and raised a little disquiet with my joy. After all, I had rather live in an humble and dependent spi- rit ; for then, perceiving underneath me the everlasting arms, I can enjoy my security." — " Amid the joyous affections of this day, I quickly forgot my own worth- lessness and helplessness, and thus, looking off from Jesus, found myself standing on slippery ground. But Oh ! the happiness of that state, where pride shall ne- ver intrude to make our joys an occasion of sorrow.'* " Rose at six, and passed the morning in great tran- quillity. Learnt by heart some of the first three chap- ters of Revelation. This is to me the most search- ing and alarming part of the Bible ; yet now with humble hope I trusted tliat the censures of my Lord did not belong to me : except that those words — Rev. 2 : 3, — ' for my name's sake thou hast labored and hast not fainted,' were far too high a testimony for me to think of appropriating to myself 3 nevertheless I be- HENRY MARTYN. 43 sought the Lord, that whatever I had been, I might now be perfect and complete in all the will of God." — " Men frequently admire me, and I am pleased ; but I abhor the pleasure 1 feel ; oh ! did they but know that my root is rottenness !"— " Heard Professor Parish preach at Trinity Church, on Luke, 12:4,5, and was deeply impressed with the reasonableness and necessity of the fear of God. Felt it to be a light matter to be judged of man's judgment; why have I not awful apprehensions of the glorious Being at all times? The particular promise — ' him that overcom- eth will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out ' — dwelt a long time in my mind, and diffused an affectionate reverence of God." I see a great work before me now, namely, the subdu- ing and mortifying of my perverted will. What am I, that I should dare to do my own will, even if I were not a sinner I but now how plain, how reasonable, to have the love of Christ constraining me to be his faithful, willing servant, cheerfully taking up the cross he shall appoint me." — " Read some of Amos with Lowth. The reading of the Prophets is to me one of the most delightful employments. One cannot but be charmed with the beauty of the imagery, while they never fail to inspire me with awful thoughts of God and of his hatred of sin. The reading of Baxters' Saint's Rest determined me to live more in heavenly meditation." — " Walked by moonlight, and found it a sweet relief to my mind to think of God and consider my ways before him.. I was strongly impressed with the vanity of the world, and could not help wondering at the im- perceptible operation of grace, which liad enabled me 44 MEMOIR OF to resign the expectation of happiness from it." — "How frequently has my heart been refreshed by the descriptions, in the Scriptures, of the future glory of the Church, and the happiness of man hereafter !" — '* I felt the force of Baxter's observation, that if an an- gel had appointed to meet me, I should be full of awe; how much more when I am about to meet God!" — "In my usual prayer at noon, besought God to give me a heart to do his will." — " For poor I inter- ceded most earnestly, even with tears." That one thus eminently watchful and holy, who " counted all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus his Lord," should speak of himself in the strongest terms of self-condemnation, will appear incongruous to those only who forget that the prophet, who uttered in the presence of Jehovah the words of submissive devotion, " Here am I, send me," exclaimed at the same time, in the lowly lan- guage of contrition, "Wo is me, for I am undone, for I am a man of unclean lips ;" and that it was when the Laodiceans ceased to know that they were " M'retched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked," that they became defective in zeal for the glory of their Savior. Whoever considers that tenderness of con- science is found always in an exact proportion to fer- vent desires after an entire conformity to the divine image, will be prepared to expect, and pleased to pe- ruse, such humble confessions and sacred aspirations as Mr. Martyn's, which seem to bring us back to the days of Ephraim the Syrian, and St. Augustine, " The essence of evangelical humiliation," says President Edwards, in his treatise on the Religious Affections> HENRY MARTYN. 45 " consists in such humility as becomes a creature un- der a dispensation of grace, consisting in a mean es- teem of himself, as nothing, and as altogether con- temptible and odious, attended with a mortification of a disposition to exalt himself, and a free renunciation of his own glory. He that has much grace, appre- hends, much more than others, that great height to which his love ought to ascend, and he sees better than others how little a way he has risen toward that height ; and therefore, estimating his love by the whole height of his duty, it appears astonishingly lit- tle and low in his eyes. It most demonstratively ap- pears that true grace is of that nature, that the more a person has of it, with remaining corruption, the less does his goodness and holiness appear, in proportion, not only to his past, deformity, but to his present defor- mity, in the sin that now appears in his heart, and in the abominable defects of his highest affections and brightest experience.' What better comment can be found on these profoundly scriptural remarks of a di- vine who stood singularly high in Mr. Martyn's esti- mation, than the self-abasing acknowledgments which follow ? " What a sink of corruption is the heart ! and yet I can go from day to day in self-seeking and self-pleas- ing. Lord ! show me myself, as nothing but wounds and bruises and putrefying sores, and teach me to live by faith on Christ, my all." — " I fear the exemption from assaults, either external or internal, is either in it- self a bad symptom of self-ignorance, or leads to pride and self-seeking. Reveal to me the evil of my heart, O thou heart-searching God." 46 MEJ^OIR OF " I feel a sad strangeness between God and my soul, from careless, unbelieving prayer ; I am afraid the work of grace is but shallow. I pray, bvU look not for an answer from above; but while I consider, at the limes of prayer, every grace as coming from God, yet, in the general tenor of my course, I seem to lay the greater stress on my own endeavors, heedless of the strength of Christ." — " How much better it is to have a peaceful sense of my own wretchedness, and a hum- ble waiting upon God for sanctifying grace, than to talk much and appear to be somebody in religion !" " O my God ! who seest me write, and recordest in the book of thy remembrance more faithfully, my sins and my backsUdings ; bringdown my soul to repent HI dust and ashes for my waste of time, carnal compla- cency, and self-sufficiency. I would desire to devote myself anew to thee in Christ ; though I fear I hardly know what it means, so great, in reality, is my igno- rance of myself." "Short and superficial in prayer this morning, and there undoubtedly is the evil. Read Lowth ; learnt the 15th of John; and endeavored faintly to be draw- ing nfgh unto God. Read Brainerd's Journal in the afternoon. At Mr. Simeon's church this evening, my, mind was wandering and stupid. His sermon was very impressive, on Rev. 3:2. Thanks to God that, ihough my graces are declining, and my corruptions increasing, I am not unwilling to be reclaimed. For with all this evil in my heart, I would not, could not, choose any otlier than God for my portion.'' "At dear Mr. Simeon's rooms I perceived that I had given him pain by inattention to his kind instructions. HENRY IMARTYN. 47 tJase wretch that I am, that by carelessness and un- mortified pride I should thus ungratefully repay his unexampled kindness. But if the sense of ingratitude *o man be thus painful, what ought I not to feel in re- ference to God, that good and holy Being, whose spa- ring nlercy keeps me out of hell, though I daily dis- honor Christ, and grieve his holy Spirit ! But, O my soul ! it is awful to trifle in religion. Confession is not repentance, neither is the knowledge of sin contri- tion." — " Hearing I was to meet two men who were not serious, I felt pride, contempt, and discontent, to be the torment of my heart." " Condemned myself for not exerting myself in doing good to man, by visiting the sick, &c. Certainly every grace must be in exer- cise, if we would enjoy the communion of the perfect Godi 'I am the Almighty God ; walk before me, and be thou perfect.' Every wheel of the chariot must be in motion to gain the race." " I found a want of the presence of God from the fear of having acted against the suggestion of con- science, in indulging myself with reading the amusing account of Dr. Vanderkemp, instead of applying to the severer duties of the morning. God be merciful to me a sinner! " Was in a composed state, but security led to pride. On my looking up to God for pardon of it, and for de- liverance from it, I feel overwhelmed with guilt. How fast does pride ripen the soul for hell !" — " Retained the manna of past experience till it putrefied in my hand." — " How utterly forgetful have I been this day of the need of Christ's grace, of my own poverty and viLe- ness! Let me then remember, that all apparent joy 48 MEMOIR OV in God, without humility, is a mere delusion of Sa- tan." — "This is my birth-day, and I am ashamed to review the past : Lord Jesus, watch over me in this deceitful calm ! Let me beware of the lethargy, lest it terminate in death. I desire on this day to renew my vows to the Lord, and O that every succeeding year of my life may be more devoted to His glory than the last." "I thought that my freifulness, and other marks of an unsubdued spirit, arose from a sense of my cor- ruption, and a secret dependence on my own powers for a cure. Were I to bring the maladies of my soul to the great Physician, in simple reliance on his grace, I should, with many other benefits, receive a cure of that bane of my peace, disappointed arrogance, which proudly seeks for good where it can never be found. In every disease of the soul, let me charge myself with the blame, and Christ with the cure of it, so shall I be humbled and Christ glorified."— "I do not doubt but that I belong to God, yet I am afraid to rejoice in that relation. I do not live in the sense of my own helplessness, and therefore do not perceive that my security is not in myself, but in Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day and for ever»" — " I found that the omission of my journal had been attended with bad effects. O wretched man that I am ! If God's word did not unequivocally declare the despe- rate wickedness of the heart, I should sink down in despair. Nothing but infinite grace can save me. But that which most grieves me, is, that I am not more liumbled at the contemplation of myself." '' When I look back on every day, I may say I have I HENRY MARTTN. 49 lest it. So much time misspent ; so many opportunities lost, ol doing good, by spreading the knowledge of the truth by conversation, or by example ; so little zeal for God, or love to man ; so much vanity, and levity, and pride, and selfishness, that I may well tremble at the world of iniquity within. If ever I am saved, it must be by grace. May God give me a humble, contrite, childlike, affectionate spirit, and a willingness to forego my e.ase continually for his service." " What is my journal, but a transcript of my follies 7 what else is the usual state of my mind, but weakness, vanity, and sin? O that I could meditate constantly upon divine things; that ihe world and its poor con- cerns might no more distract my heart from God. But how little do I know or experience of the power of Christ ! Truly I find my proneness to s-in, and that generally prevailing ignorance of my mind by which all motives to diligence and love are made to disappear, to be my misery. Now therefore I desire to become a fool, that I may be wise : ' the meek will he guide in judgment.' " " I felt humbled at the remembrance of misspent hours, and while this frame of mind continued, all the powers of my soul were perceptibl)'' refreshed. The last three chapters of St. John were peculiarly sweet, and I longed to love. Mr. Simeon preached on John, 15 : 12 ; ' This is my commandment, that ye love one another, as I have loved you.' I saw my utter want of such a love as he described it ; so disinterested, sympathizing, beneficent, and self-denying. Resolved to make the acquisition of it the daily subject of my future endeavors." — " I cared not what was the state 5 50 5!£M0IR Of of pleasure or pain in my heart, so that I knew its depth of iniquity, and could be poor and contrite in spirit; but it is hard and stubborn, and ignorant."— " Pride shows itself every hour of every day ; what long and undisturbed possession does self-compla- cency hold of my heart 1 what plans, and dreams, and visions of futurity fill my imagination, in which self is the prominent object !" — " In my intercourse with some of my dear friends, the workings of pride were but too plainly marked in my outward demeanor; on looking up to God for pardon for it, and deliverance from it, I felt overwhelmed with guilt. I was unwil ing to resume my studies, while so much seemed to remain to be done in my own heart. Read Hopkins' Sermon on true Happiness, and analyzed it. The obe- dience required in it terrified me at first, but after- wards I could adore God that he had required me to be perfectly holy. I thought that I could cheerfully do his will, though the world, the flesh, and the devil should rise up against me ; I desired to be filled with the fruits of righteousness, particularly with humility and love for the poor of Christ's flock." '• Drew near to the Lord in prayer, but was rather elevated than humbled afterwards. At Mr. Simeon's was deeply impressed with his sermon on Eccles. 8:11; it was a complete picture of the human heart; and when he came to say that they sinned habitually, deliberately, and without remorse, I could scarcely be- lieve I was so vile a wretch as I then saw myself to 1)6. It was a most solemn discourse." — " The less we do, the more we value it ; how poor, and mean, and pitiful would many even of present Christians esteem HENRY MARTY \, 51 my life ! Dear Savior, I desire to be no more luke- warm, but to walk nigh to God, to be dead to the world, and longing for the coming of Christ." " I read Hebrew, and the Greek of the Epistle to the Hebrews. This Epistle is not only not most uninterest- ing, as it formerly was, but is now the sweetest portion of the Holy Scripture I know ; partly, I suppose, because I can look up to Jesus as my High Priest, though I may very often doubt whether I am interested in him. Yet O how free is his love to the chief of sinners 1" "How many of my days are lost, if their worth is to be measured by the standard of prevailing heavenlv- mindedness ! I want, above all things, a willingness lo be despised. What but the humbling influence of the Spirit, showing me my vileness and desperate wicked- ness, can ever produce such an habitual temper !" "Mr. Simeon's sermon this evening, on 2 Chron. 32 : 31, discovered to me my corruption and vileness more than any sermon I had ever heard." — " O that I had a more piercing sense of the divine presence ! How much sin in the purest services ! If I were sitting in heavenly places with Christ, or rather with my thoughts habitually there, how would every duty, but especially this of social prayer, become easy. Memoria tiia sancta, et dulcedo tua beatissima, possideat animam meam, atque in invisibilium amorem rapiat illam."* " This day was set apart for a public fast. I prayed rather more than two hours, chiefly with confession of my own sins, those of my family, and the church : *May the sacred remembrance of thee, and of thy most blessed delight, possess my soul, and bear it away in the love of unseen things. 52 IrtllMOill OF alas I so much was required lo be said on llie first head, that I should have been at no loss to liave dwelt upon it the whole day." — " Suffered sleepiness to prevent my reading to my servant : it is hurtful to my con- science to let slight excuses for an omission of duty prevail." — " O what cause for shame and self-abhor- rence arises from the review of every day I In morn- ing prayer, as usual of late, my soul longed to leave its corruptions, to think of Christ, and live by him. I labored to represent to myself powerful considerations, to stir up my slothful heart to activity, particularly that which respects giving instruction to, and praying with people. I set before myself the infinite mercy of being out. of hell — of being permitted to do the will of God — of the love of Christ, which was so disinterest- ed — how he passed his life in going about doing good — how those men who were truly great, the blessed apos- tles, did the same — how the holy angels would delight lo be employed on errands of mercy. A ray of light seems to break upon my mind for a moment, and dis- covers the folly and ignorance of this sinful heart ; but it quickly returns to its former hardness. My will is to sit all day reading, not making any effort to think, but letting the book fill the mind with a succession of no tions; and when the time comes for readhig the Scrip- ture and praying, then it recoils. When an opportuni- ty offers of speaking for the good of others, or assist ing a poor person, then it makes a thousand foolish excuses. It would rather go on wrapt in self, and leave the world to perish. Ah ! what a heart is mine ! The indistinctness of my view of its desperate wickedness is terrible to me, that is, when I am capable of feeling HENRY MARTYN. 53 any terror. But now, my soul ! rise from earth and hell — shall Satan lead me captive at his will, when Christ ever liveth to make intercession for the vilest worm ? O thou ! whose I am by creation, preservation, redemption, no longer my own, but his who lived — and died, and rose again — once more would I resign this body and soul, mean and worthless as they are, to the blessed disposal of thy holy will ! May I have a heart to love God and his people, the flesh being crucified ! May grace abound, where sin has abounded much ! May I cheerfully and joyfully resign my ease and life in the service of Jesus, to whom I owe so much ! May it be sweet to me to proclaim to sinners like myself, the blessed efficacy of my Savior's blood ! May he make me faithful unto death ! The greatest enemy I dread is the pride of my own heart. Through pride reigning, I should forget to know a broken spirit : then would come on unbelief — weakness — apostacy." " If it is a mercy that I am out of hell, what account should I make of the glorious work of the ministry, to which I am to be called, who am not worthy to be trodden under foot of men." Thus having attained to a degree of self-knowledge and spirituality equally rare, and being thoroughly in- structed how " he ought to behave himself in the church of God — the church of the living God — the pil- lar and ground of the truth" — Mr. Marty n prepared for the solemn rite of his ordination, which was admmis- tercd at Ely, on Sunday, October 22, 1803: "Blessed is the man whom Thou choosest, and causest to ap- proach unto Thee, that he may dwell in thy courts;" Pfalm 45 : 4. This blessing surelv rested in an emi- 54 MEMOIR OF nnnt degree on Mr. Martyn : for what a contrast does his approach to the altar on this occasion exhibit to that of those v/ho presumptuously intrude into the sacred office, " seeking their own things, and not the things of Jesus Christ!" Truly might he affirm, that he was '• inwardly moved by the Holy Ghost, to take upon him that office and ministration, to serve God by promoting his glory and edifying his people;" and truly did he resolve to " give himself continually to prayer and to the ministry of the word." Yet his self- abasement was, as usual, conspicuous, and he bewailed having presented himself for admission into the minis- try of the Lord Jesus, " in so much ignorance and un- holiness ;" and at the same time poured out his prayer, that he might have " grace to fulfill those promises which he had made before God and the people." The awful weight of ordination vows was impressed on no one's mind more deeply than on his; the thought of his responsibility would have overwhelmed him, had he not been supported by remembering that the trea- sure of the Gospel was placed " in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power might be of God, and not of man." That which was the comfort of Polycarp, was his consolation — that he who was constituted an over seer of the church, was himself overlooked by Jesus Christ— and that in the discharge of his office as pastor of the flock, he was ever under the gracious superin- tendence of that great and good Shepherd who *'laid down his life for the sheep." A circumstance which occurred at this time shows how seriously his mind was affected. From a consti- tutional delicacy and reserve, no one had naturally a HENRY MARTYN. 55 greater reluctance than Mr. Martyn to obtrude himself on the notice of others in the way of admonition ; it was a task from which his feelings recoiled. Observ- ing, however, with pain and sorrow, one of the candi- dates for ordination in an apparently careless and un- concerned state, he took an opportunity, though the party was not personally known to him, of admonish- ing him privately on the subject: and in what a strain svich a man would speak at such a moment^ may more easily be conceived than expressed. A deep conviction of the necessity of reproving others, and not suffering sin to remain in them, often induced Mr. Martyn to do violence to the retiring tenderness of his disposition. He felt reproof to be "a duty of unlimited extent and almost insuperable difficulty" — but, said he, "the way to know when to address men, and when to abstain, is to love ;" and, as love is most genuine when the heart is most abased, he resolved not to reprove others, where he could conscientiously be silent, except he experienced at the time a peculiar contrition of spirit. CHAPTER HI. ENTERS ON HIS MINISTERIAL LABORS — ACTS AS EXAMINER IN THE UNIVERSITY — APPLIES FOR A CHAPLAINSHIP UNPER THE EAST INDIA COMPANY — PURSUES HIS MINISTERIAL LABORS — SUPREME REGARD TO PERSONAL RELIGION — VISITS CORNWALL — SUFFER- INGS ON LEAVING ENGLAND. The exercise of his pastoral function Mr. Martyn commenced as curate of the Rev. C. Simeon, in "the 56 MEMOIR OF Church of the Holy Trinity" in Cambridge ; undertak- ing likewise the charge of the parish of Lolworth, a small village at no great distance from the University. There it was, on the Sunday after his ordination, that he preached his first sermon, on the following words : '• If a man die, shall he live again ? — all the days of my appointed time will I wait, till my change come;"' Job, 14 : 14. After delivering his second sermon at which place, on the succeeding Sunday, an incident occurred on his way home, which he recorded in his Journal, and which could not well be effaced from his remembrance. An old man, who had been one of his auditors, walked by the side of his horse for a consi- derable time, warning him to reflect, that if any souls perished through his negligence, their blood would be required at his hand. He exhorted him to show his hearers that they were perishing sinners ; to be much engaged in secret prayer; and to labor after an entire departure from himself to Christ. " From what he said on the last head, (observes Mr. Martyn,) it was clear that I had but little experience; but I lifted up my heart afterwards to the Lord, that I might be fully in- structed in righteousness." So meekly and thankfully did this young minister listen to the affectionate coun- sel of an old disciple. On Thursday, Nov. 10, he preached for the first time at Trinity Church, to a numerous and earnestly attentive congregation, upon part of that address of Jesus to the woman of Samaria : — " If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith unto thee. Give me to drink, thou wouldest have asked of him, and he ," John, 4:10: HENRY MARTYN. 57 when it was his fervent desire and prayer to enter fully into the solemn spirit of those well-known lines : " I'd preach as though I ne'er should preach again ; " I'd preach as dying, unto dying men." Nor could words characterize more justly the usual strain of his preaching: for whether the congregation he addressed were great or small, learned and refined, orpoor and ignorant, he spake as one who had a mes- sage to them from God, and who was impressed with the consideration that both he and they must shortly stand before the Judge of quick and dead. The burdens and difficulties of his sacred employ- ments lay heavily at first on Mr. Martyn's mind, and considerably depressed his spirits; but he endeavored, he writes in a letter to his earliest friend, to keep in view " the unreasonableness of his discontent, (who was a brand plucked out of the fire,) and the glorious blessedness of the ministerial work." At times, he con- fesses, he was tried with a "sinful dislike of his paro- chial duty " — and seemed frequently " as a stone speak- ing to stones "—and he laments that " want of private devotional reading, and shortness of prayer, through incessant sermon-making, had produced much strange- ness between God and his soul." — " Every time," he remarked, "that I open the Scriptures, my thoughts are about a sermon or exposition, so that even in pri- vate I seem to be reading in public." Young ministers — those especially who are placed in extensive spheres of action— are not ignorant of the temptations of which Mr. Martyn here complains; and to them it must be a consolation to be assured that the same trials were 58 MEMOIR OF not unknown to one of the most devoted and most faithful of their brethren. Added to those duties which had now become his peculiar care, and in which, notwithstanding some momentary depressions, he continued steadfast and unmovable, always abounding in his work — an office of another kind devolved on him towards the close of liie year 1803, that of one of the public examiners in his college: and if it were too much to say that an examination in the classics at St. John's has rarely been conducted more to the credit of the society, or to the advantage of the students, or to the honor of the examiner ; certainly it would not be declaring too much to aver, that never, since the foundation of the college, has one been held in a more Christian spirit, and in a more strict accordance with that extensive apostolical injunction — " Whatsoever ye do, in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus." The vigi- lance with which Mr. Martyn prepared for this duty, and the humility with which he speaks of himself when engaged in the execution of it, show that his Christianity was of the highest proof. " I read Mitford's History of Greece, as I am to be classical examiner. To keep my thoughts from wan- dering away to take pleasure in these studies, required more watchfulness and earnestness in prayer than I can account for. But earnest ejaculation was effectual to make me return to the word of God with some de- light. ' The carnal mind is enmity against God,' — and 60 I find it. I was obliged to reason with myself, and to force open my eyes, that I might see the excellency of divine things. Did I delight in reading the retreat HCNRY MARTYN. 59 of the ten thousand Greeks, and shall not my soul glory in the knowledge of God, who created the Greeks, and the vast countries over which they passed ? I examined in Butler's Analogy, and in Xenophon ; how much pride and ostentatious display of learning was visible in my conduct !— how that detestable spi- rit follows me, whatever I do !" It was customary with Mr. Martj'n, at the com- mencement of a new year, to take a solemn review of the time past, and to contemplate his future prospects. In the review of his journal of the year 1803, he judged that he had dedicated too much time to public minis- trations, and too little to private communion with God. Yet he trusted that he had grown in grace, inasmuch as the bent of his desires v^as towards God, more than when he first thought of becoming a Missionary. " In heavenly contemplation and abstraction of mind," he adds, '"my attainments have foilen far short of my ex- pectation ; bui in a sense of my own worthlessness and guilt, and in a consequent subjugation of the will, and in a disposition for labor and active exertion, I am inclined to think myself gaining ground. My soul ap- proves thoroughly the life of God, and my one only desire is to be entirely devoted to him ; and O may I live very near to him in the ensuing year, and follow llie steps of Christ and his holy saints. I have resigned, in profession, the riches, the honors, and the comforts of this world : and I think also it is a resignation of the heart." Then, after having set apart a day for fasting and prayer, he besought God " for understanding and strength, to fit him for a long life of warfare and con- stant self-denial, and that he might see clearly why 60 MEMom OP he was placed here, how short the time was, and how excellent to labor for souls, and, above all, to feel his desert of hell." He prayed also for grace to " enlighten him in the dark seasons of trouble and desponding faith ; that he might not shrink from cold and hunger, and painful labor, but might follow the Lamb whither- soever he went." His soul longed for perfection, but he " feared that he had not yet learned the secret of happiness — a poor and contrite spirit." In the early part of the year 1804, Mr. Martyn's expectations of becoming a missionary were consider- ably damped by the very trying event of his losing all his slender patrin)ony ; a loss rendered more severe to him y-; the circumstance of his younger sister being involved in the same calamity. His designs of leaving England were, in consequence of this disaster, likely to be frustrated ; for his pecuniary resources were cut off, and it appeared to him scarcely justifiable to leave his sister in actual distress, when his presence in Eng- land might alleviate or remove it. In order, therefore, that he might consult some of his friends in this emer- gency, at the end of June he left Cambridge for London. The situation of a chaplain to the East India Com- pany had long appeared to many of those who took a lively interest in him and his work, to be peculiarly- eligible, as offering singular facilities for missionary- exertions among millions of idolaters. The pecuniary advantages of the appointment were at first wholly out of their contemplation; and for himself, when it was intimated to him that there was some expectation of his leaving England in the capacity of chaplain to the HENRY MARTYN. fil East India Company, his private journal contains this remarkable reflection : — " The prospect of this icorld\t happiness gmjc me rather pain than pleasure, lohich convinced me that I had been running' away from the world rather than overcomin'ed earnestly that I might have a little relief, to set my house in order and make my will. I also thought, with pain, of leaving the Persian Gospels un- finished. By means of some ether, the Lord gave me ease, and I made my will. The day was spent in great weakness, but my heart was often filled with the sweetest peace and gratitude for the precious things God hath done for me." " I found delight at night in considering, from the beginning, all that God had done in creation, provi- dence, and] grace, for my soul. O God of love, how shall I praise thee ! happiness, bliss for ever, lies be- fore me. Thou hast brought me upon this stage of life to see what sin and misery are ; myself, alas ! m.ost deeply partaking in both. But the days and the works of my former state, fraught with danger and with death, are no more; and the God of benevolence and love hath opened to me brighter prospects. Thine I am ; ' My beloved is mine, and I am his : and now I want none but Thee. I am alone with Thee in this world; and when I put off this mortal tabernacle, I shall still be with Thee, whatever that unknown change may be ; and I shall be before Thee, not to re- ceive honor, but to ascribe praise. Yes ! I shall then HENRY MARTYN. 259 have power to express my feelings ; I shall then, with- out intermission; see and love, and no cloud of sor- row overcast ray mind. I shall then sing, in worthy, everlasting strains, the praises of that divine Redeem- er, whose works of love now reach beyond my con- ception ! From the even tenor of his life at this period, it can- not be expected that incidents of a very striking na- ture should arise; yet the description which he him- self has given of it in the following extracts, drawn chiefly from a free and frequent correspondence with his endeared friends and brethren, the Rev. David Brown, and the Rev. Daniel Corrie, will not be wholly devoid of interest to those who have hitherto watched him, with love and admiration, on his way to heaven. " April 16, 1808, " This day I have received yours of the 8th : like the rest of your letters, it sets my thoughts on full gallop, from which I can hardly recover my breath. Sabat's letter I hesitate to give him, lest it should make him unhappy again. He is at this moment more quiet and Christian in his deportment than I have yet seen him. Arabic now employs my few moments of lei- sure. In consequence of reading the Koran with Sa- bat audibly, and drinking no wine, the slander has gone forth amongst the Christians at Patna, that the Dinapore Padre has turned Mussulman. " To the Rev. D. Brown:* " April 26, 1808. "This day I sent off a chapter of Hindoostanee, of St. Matthew. The name I design for my work is— 260 MEMOIR OF Benoni, the son of my affliction ; for through great tribulation will it come out. Sabat has kept me much upon the fret this week. When he had reached the ninth chapter, the idea seized him that Mirza might receive some honor from his inspecting the work. He stopped immediately ; and, say what I will, he deter- mines not to give me the smallest help in correcting the Hindoostanee. •' To the Rev. D. Broicn." ''■May 9th, 1808. " Sabat, having one of his hjead-aches, leaves me at liberty to take a complete sheet. This week has passed as usual, in comparing the Persian and Greek ; yet we are advanced no further than the end of the 15th of Matthew. Notwithstanding the vexation and disappointment Sabat has occasioned me, I have en- joyed a more peaceable week than ever since his arrival. I do not know how you find the heat, but here it is dreadful : in one person's quarters yesterday it was at 102<': perhaps it was on that account that scarce- ly any women came. Another reason I assign is, that I rebuked one of them last Sunday, yet very gently, for talking and laughing in the church before I came j so yesterday they showed their displeasure by not coming at all. I spoke to them on the parable of the great supper. The old woman, who is always so ex- emplary in her attention, shed many tears. I have sometimes endeavored to speak to her, but she de- clines conversation. I feel interested about her, there is so much sorrow and meekness depicted in her countenance; but she always crosses herself after the service is over. My Europeans this week have not HENRY MARTYN. 261 attended very well ; fifteen only, instead of twenty- five : some of them, indeed, are in the hospital ; and the hospital is a town of itself; — how shall I ever be faithful to them all? " To the Rev. D. Corrie.'' ' May 31, 1808. " Yours of the 24th instant arrived to-day, and re- lieved me from much anxiety respecting your own health. Still you do not say whether the Hindoos- lanee sheets have arrived. I do not wonder at your in- quiring about the Persian. To-day we finish compar- ing St. Matthew with the Greek, if it may be called a comparison; for, partly owing to the errors of the scribe, rendering whole verses unintelligible ; and partly on account of Sabat's anxiety to preserve the rhythm, which often requires the change of a whole sentence for a single word — it is a new translation. We have labored hard at it to-day ; from six in the morning till four in the afternoon. " To the Rev. D. Brown'' " JuTie 6, 1808. "To-day we have completed the Persian of St. Matthew, and to-morrow it is to be sent off to be print- ed. Sabat desired me to kneel down to bless God for the happy event, and we joined in praise of ' the Fa- ther of Lights.' It is a superb performance in every respect, Sabat is prodigiously proud of it. I wish some mistakes may not be found in it, to put him to shame. Among the events of the last week is the earthquake. We were just reading the passage of the 24th of Matthew, on ' earthquakes in divers places,' when I felt my chair shake under me ; then some 262 MEMOIR OF pieces of the plaster fell ; on which I sprang up and ran out : the doors had still a tremulous motion. The edition of the Gospel must be announced as ' printed a\ the expense of the British and Foreign Bible Society. " To the Rev. D. Corrie.'' " June 7, 1808. " This day we have sent the Persian of St. Matthew Sabat is not a little proud of it. Your design of an- nouncing the translation as printed at the expense of the British and Foreign Bible Society, I highly ap- prove ; I wish to see honor put upon so godlike an institution. Mirza returned yesterday, and again there are symptoms of disquiet in Sabat. Pray for us. " Tothe Rev. D. Brown." " Bankipore, Jwne 23, 1808- " I groan at the wickedness and infidelity of men, and seem to stretch my neck every way to espy a righteous man. All at Dinapore treat the Gospel with contempt 5 here there is nothing but infidelity. I am but just arrived, and am grieved to find in my old friend less proofs of real acquaintance with the Gospel than I used to hope. On my way here I called on Col. , and advised him to marry or separate; the alternative I am ever insisting on. As soon as I arrived, Mr. informed me that the reason why no one came to hear me, was, ' that I preached faith with- out works, and that little sins are as bad as great ones,' and that thus I tempted them to become great sinners. A young civilian, who some time ago came to me de- siring satisfaction on the evidences of Christianity, and to whom I spoke very freely, and with some regard, as I could not doubt his sincerity, now holds me up to HENRY MARTYN. 263 ridicule. Thus, through evil report, we go on. Oh, my brother ! how happy I feel, that all have not for- saken Christ ; that I am not left alone even in India. ' Cast thy burden on the Lord, and he shall sustain thee,' is the text I carry about with me, and I can re- commend it to any body as an infallible preservative from the fever of anxiety. " To the Rev. D. Corrie:' " June 26, 1808. " The day after I wrote to you from Bankipore, I -called on the Nawaub, Babir Ali Khan, celebrated for his sense and liberality. I staid two hours with him, conversing in Persian, but badly. He began the theo- logical discussion by requesting me to explain necessi- ty and free-will ; I instantly pleaded ignorance. He gave his own opinion ; on which I asked him for his proofs of the religion of Mohammed. His first argu- ment was the eloquence of the Koran, but he at last acknowledged that this was insufficient. I then brought forward a passage or two in the Koran, containing sen- timents manifestly false and foolish : he flourished a good deal, but concluded by saying that I must wait till I could speak Persian better, and had read their logic. His whole manner, look, authority, and copious- ness, reminded me constantly of Dr. . This was the first visit, and I returned highly delighted with his sense, candor, and politeness. Two days after I went to breakfast with him, and conversed with him in Hin- doostanee. He inquired what were the principles of the Christian religion. I began with the atonement, the divinity of Christ, the corruption of human nature, the 264 MEMOIR OF necessity of regeneration, and a holy life. He seemfl to wish to acquire information, but discovers no spiri- tual desire after the truth. So much for this Mussul- man lord : now for Antichrist in another shape — the Popish Padre, Julius Caesar. I asked him whether the doctrine I had heard from the Franciscans in America was his — Extra Ecclesiam Romanam solus non esse 'potest? (p. 135.) He said that it was a question on which disputations were constantly held at Rome. By some means we got upon the additions made to the Commandments by the Church of Rome; he said that Christianity without councils, was a city without walls ; and that Luther, Calvin, &c. had made additions ; all which I denied, and showed him the last verses in the Revelation. Upon the whole, our conversation seemed without benefit. " To the Rev. D. Corrie." " July 2, 1808. " My work is very delightful in itself, but it is doubly so, by securing me so much of your correspondence. My eyes seized your beloved hand-writing with more eagerness than even if the letter had been from Europe. I rejoice with you, and praise God for one Gospel in Persian. With elegance enough to attract the careless and please the fastidious, it contains enough of Eternal Life to save the reader's soul ; therefore, if we do no more, we are happy that something is done. We are safe with the Hindoostanee ; it wants but little correc- tion, and in case of my death, could be easily prepared by any one. I am anxious to hear of the new plans you are about to propose to me : let them not be in the way of recreation; my only exertion, and that HENRY MARTYN. 265 through indolence, is small, is to keep my heart right- ly disposed to minister to my congregation at night. I shrink from the idea of Sanscrit : the two or three months I spent in striving to penetrate its unwieldy grammar, were more painful to me than any since the sorrowful days when I first began to learn Greek." " To the Rev. D. Brown:'' " July 4, 1808. "I have received no letter from you this week. When Sunday came, and no letter arrived from you, I began to entertain the romantic notion that perhaps ray brother himself would come and preach for me at night. I am now on my way to Patna by water. The Italian Padre came to Dinapore again on Saturday, but did not call upon me : the men sent him a letter, to v/hich he replied in French, that he lamented he could not speak their language, but should remember them in his prayers, and spoke of them as brethren in Christ. When he came into the barracks, the Catho- lics crowded around him by hundreds, and in a tone of triumph pointed out his dress — that of a Franciscan friar — to the Protestants, contrasting it with that of a Clergyman of the Church of England, booted and spurred, and ready for a hunt. The Catholics in this regiment amount to a full thousand — the Protestants are scarcely discernible. Who would think that we should have to combat Antichrist again at this day ? I feel my spirit roused to preach against Popery with all the zeal of Luther. How small and unimportant are the hair-splitting disputes of the blessed people at home, compared with the formidable agents of the de- vil with whom we have to combat here ! There are 23 266 MEMOIR OF four casts of people in India: the first, heathen; the second, Mohammedans ; the third. Papists ; the fourth, infidels. Now I trust that you and I are sent to fight this four-faced devil, and by the help of the Lord Je- sus, whom we serve, we will. I was rather apprehen- sive yesterday that ray female hearers would have forsaken me ; but they came as usual ; and the words, ' search the Scriptures,' occurring in the chapter of the day, I took occasion to point out to them the wicked- ness of the church of Rome, in forbidding the use of the Scriptures. " To the Rev. D. Corrie." " July 11, 1808. "A loquacious Brahmin having interrupted lis in our work, I leave him to Sabat, and turn my thoughts with more pleasure Chunar-ward. My last letter left me at Patna. The Catholic Padre, Julius Caesar, had gone to Dinapore that very day, to say mass; but at Babir All's I met with a very agreeable Armenian Padre, named IMartin, who kept my tongue employed nearly the whole of the day. I tried him once or twice in spiritual things, but on these he had nothing to say. His dress was a little black cassock, exactly such as we wear, or ought to wear : the top of his head was shaved like the Franciscans. I am almost ashamed of my secular appearance before these very venerable and appropriate figures. The Catholics in the regiment are a thousand strong, and are disposed to be mali- cious : they respect me, however, and cannot help thinking that I have been taught by Roman Catholics, or have been in some way connected with them : at the hospital, the greater number kept themselves aloof. HENRY MART\-N. 267 My society, this week, has occasioned me great trou- ble ; one man was tlie occasion of it : still his profes- sions, and earnestness not to be excluded, make it dif- ficult to know how to deal with him. My female hearers do not give me half such encouragement as yours ; probably because I do not take such pains with them ; yet there is no trouble I would spare, if I knew how to reach their minds. They were only fourteen yesterday. I spoke to them on the text, 'Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life.' To whom shall we go? To the Padre— to the Virgin Mary— to the Saints— to the world— to works — to repentance ? No : to Christ. " To tlie Rev. D. Corrie:' " July 18, 1808. " I mentioned to you that I had spoken very plainly to the women last Sunday, on the delusions of the Papists ; yesterday only seven came. I ascribed it to what I had said ; but to-day Sabat tells me that they pour contempt upon it all. Sabat, instead of comforting and encouraging me in my disappointments and trials, aggravates my pain by contemptuous expressions of the perfect inutility of continuing to teach them. He may spare his sarcastic remarks, as I suppose that, after another Sunday, none at all will come. I find no relief but in prayer : to God I can tell all my griefs and find comfort. Last Tuesday the Padre, Julius Caesar, came and staid with me four hours. We ar- gued with great vehemence : when I found that he had nothing to say in defence of the adoration of the Virgin Mary and the saints, I solemnly charged him and his church with the sin of idolatry ; he started. 268 MEMOIR OF and said that if I had uttered such a sentiment in Italy I should have been burned. He certainly seeins sin- cere ; and at one time he lifted up his eyes and prayed that I might not convert him, and that God v/ould never suffer the Protestant religion to enter Italy. His main argument against me was, the disorder and im- piety prevalent among the Protestants whom he had an opportunity of observing in Geneva and Leghorn. This disputation has brought us to be quite familiar in our acquaintance: he looked over all my books, and found a French one, called ' The Crimes of the Popes ;' which he desired to have ; but recollected afterwards that his coadjutor might see it. I feel a regard for him ; he is a serious and unassuming young man. " To the Rev. D. Corrie.'' " August 1, 1808. " One day this week, on getting up in the morning, I was attacked with a very serious illness. I thought I was leaving this world of sorrow ; and, praised be the God of grace, I felt no fear. The rest of the day I was filled with sweet peace of mind, and had near access to God in prayer. AVhat a debt of love and praise do we owe ! Yesterday I attempted to examine the women who attended (in number about thirty) in Christian knowledge : they were very shy, and said that they could say no prayers but in Portuguese. It appears that they were highly incensed, and went away, saying to Joseph, ' We know a great deal more than your Padre himself.' The services much weak- ened me, after my late attack. " To the Rev. D. Corrie:' HENRY MARTYN. 269 " August 8, 1808. " I called on the Commander-in-chief here on Sa- turday morning, and was received very graciously. I told him that it was a duty we owed to God as a na- tion, to erect churches ; and asked whether Lord Minto was disposed to go on with it ; to which he replied in the affirmative. I enlarged on the shame I felt in my disputes with the Popish Padres, as often as they threw out reflections on the utter disregard of the Protestants to religion. Julius, the Padre, has been here twice this week, but staid only a very short time. He began to assert, with very great vehemence, the necessity of an infallible judge, in order to settle all disputes on reli- gion ; and mentioned how much he had been agitated by his last dispute with me ; he could do nothing but walk about that night; yet looked up to God and be came tranquil. The men are fast dying in the hospital, yet they would rather be sent to Patna for some holy oil, than hear the word of eternal life. Two or three of my evening hearers are in the hospital ; one is pre- pared to die : blessed sight ! The Persian of St. Mark is to be sent to-morrow, and five chapters of Luke, cor- rected. There is no news from down the stream ; but always glad tidings for us from the world above. " To the Rev. D. Carrie:' " August 15, 1808. " Glad am I that we are likely to meet so soon ; may it be ' in the fullness of the blessing of the Gospel of peace.' Last week Mohammed Babir, the Mohammedan .ord, and Padre Martino, spent three days here. Little, J am sorry to say, has been done. Sabat did not ap- pear to advantage ; instead of speaking about the Gos- 23* 270 MEMOIR OF pel to Babir, he was reciting poetry, particularly his own ; and seemed more anxious to gain admirers than converts. We did, however, at last converse about re- ligion ; but Mohammed confessed himself an infidel, and required proof for the truth of any religion. Sa bat was not prepared for this, so I attempted to speak to Babir upon the nature of probable evidence ; but he did not understand me ; so this came to nothing. One day we sat down to dinner before Sabat came, and, to our great astonishment, he rebuked us, with great wrath and pride. With all Babir's gentleness, he rebuked him in his turn, and told him that the Per- sians and English knew how to behave, but the Arabs did not. Babir was so lavish in his compliments to us all, that it was difficult. to get at his real sentiments; but he praised Sabat's Persian translation to the stars; which I was glad to hear. As for the poor Padre, with an exterior so imposing that you would think St. Pe- ter himself was present, he knows nothing at all. I tried him on spiritual things again and again : but he could say nothing. Alas ! how fallen from what their fathers were ! When shall the churches of Asia recover their ancient glory ? You will see the Nabob and Pa- dre soon, I hope. Last Tuesday we sent off the Per- sian of St. Mark. " To the Rev. D. Corned " September 9, 1808. " Corrie is here, and likely to remain, to my joy- You will have some happy hours together, I doubt not : with all your cares and trials, you claim all the consolation we can give ; and you shall have more HENRY MARTYN. 271 than that, if we can obtain any thing for you by our prayers. Corrie will bring you but a poor account of my congregation : I am much neglected on all sides, and without the work of translation, I should fear that my presence in India were useless. " To the Rev. D. Brown." " October, IS08. "I deserve your reproof for not having written to you oftener ; and I am pained at the anxiety I have thoughtlessly occasioned you. I console myself, how- ever, by reflecting that a letter must have reached you a few weeks after you sent your last. I am sorry that I have not good accounts to give of my health; yet no danger is to be apprehended. My services on the Lord's day always leave me a pain in the chest, and such a great degree of general relaxation, that I sel- dom recover it till Tuesday. A few days ago I was at- tacked with a fever, which, by the mercy of God, lasted but two days. I am now well, but must be more careful for the future. In this debilitating climate the mortal tabernacle is frail indeed : my mind seems as vigorous as ever, but my delicate frame soon calls for relaxation, and I must give it, though unwillingly; for such glorious fields for exertion open all around, that I could with pleasure be employed from morning till night. It seems a providential circumstance, that the work at present assigned me is that of translation ; for had I gone through the villages preaching, as my intentions led me to do, I fear that by this time I should have been in a deep decline. In my last I gave you a general idea of my employments. The society still meet every night at my quarters, and though we 272 MEMOIR OF have lost many by death, others are raised up in their room ; one officer, a heutenant, is also given to me ; and he is not only a brother beloved, but a constant companion and nurse ; so you must feel no appre- hension that I should be left alone in sickness ; nei- ther on any other account should you be uneasy. You know that we must meet no more in this life : therefore since we are,. as I trust, both children of God, by faith in Jesus Christ, it becomes a matter of less consequence when we leave this earth. Of the spread of the Gospel in India I can say little, because I hear nothing. Adieu, my dearest sister : let us live in con- stant prayer for ourselves, and for the church." To his Sister. " October 19, 1808. " I have just come out of my chapel, where, with my little flock, I have once more resumed my duties. The infrequency of my appearance among them of late has thinned them considerably ; and this effect, which I foresaw, is one of the most painful and lamen- table consequences of my withdrawing from them ; but it is unavoidable, if I wish to prolong my life. My dan- ger is from the lungs, though none of you seem to ap- prehend it. One complete service at church does more to consume my strength and spirits than six days of the hardest study, or bodily labor. Pray for me, my dear brother, that I may neither be rash nor indolent. ''To the Rev. D. Corrie.'' '• October '2A, 1808. " You mention a letter inclosed, but none came. The intelligence, however, intended to be conveyed by it, HENRY MARTYN. 273 met my delighted eyes. Thomason* is coming f This is good. Praise be to the Lord of the harvest, for send- ing out laborers ! Behold how the prayers of the so- ciety at Calcutta have been heard. I hope they will continue their supplication ; for we want more yet, and it may please God yet further to bless us. You cannot leave Calcutta by the middle of November, and must therefore apply for one month's extension of leave. But you are unwilling to leave your flock ; and I do not wonder, as I have seen my sheep grievously dis- persed during my absence. Uncertain when I may come amongst them, they seldom come at all, except the ten or twelve who meet one another. My morn- ing congregation increases as the cold weather ad- vances, and yesterday there seemed to be a conside- rable impression. I spoke in a low tone of voice, and therefore did not feel much fatigue ; after the Hindoos- tanee service I was very weak; but at night tolerably strong again. On the whole, my expectations of life return. May the days thus prolonged be entirely his who continues them ! and may my work not only move on delightfully, but with a more devout and se- rious spirit 1 You are too many happy brethren toge- ther for me to mention all : suffice it to say that my heart is with you, and daily prays for blessings upon you all. " To the Rev. D. Corrie:' The early part of the year 1809 produced no varia- tion in the life of Mr. Martyn, until the month of April ; * Of whom a memoir has since been written, by the author of this work. 274 IMEMOIR OF when he was removed from his station at Dinapore, to Cawnpore. The following extracts are selected from the continuation of his correspondence with Mr. Cor- rie, in the interval which passed between the end of the year 1808j and the termination of his ministry at Dinapore. " January iO, 1809. " Your letter from Buxar found me in much the same spiritual state as you describe yourself to be in; though your description, no doubt, belongs more properly to me. I no longer hesitate to ascribe my stupor and for- mality to its right cause, unwatchfulness in worldly company. I thought that any temptation arising from the society of the people of the world, at least of such as we have had, was not worthy of notice ; but I find myself mistaken. The frequent occasions of being among them of late, have proved a snare to my cor- rupt heart. Instead of returning with a more elastic spring to severe duties, as I expected, my heart wants more idleness, more dissipation. David Brainerd in the wilderness, what a contrast to Henry Marty n ! But God be thanked that a start now and then inter- rupts the slumber. I hope to be up and about my Mas. ter's business ; to cast off the works of darkness, and to be spiritually minded, which alone is life and peace. But what a dangerous country it is that we are in ; hot weather or cold, all is softness and luxury ; all a con- spiracy to lull us to sleep in the lap of pleasure. While we pass over this enchanted ground, call, brother, ever and anon, and ask, ' Is all well?' We are shepherds keeping watch over our flocks by night : if we fall asleep, what is to become of them ?" HENRY MARTYN. 275 " January 30, 1809. " I have been seized with a sudden desire for read- ing Hebrew, chiefly from a wish of seeing language in its simplest and purest state. It is my belief that language is from God ; and that therefore, as in his other works, so in this, the principles must be extreme- ly simple. My present labor is to find the reason for there being but two tenses in Hebrew. I have read, or rather devoured, the first four chapters of the Hebrew Bible, in order to account for the apparently strange use of these two tenses, and am making hypotheses every moment; when I walk, and when I wake in the night. One thing I have found, which is, that there are but two tenses in English and in Persian. Iidli go — in that sentence the principal verb is Iicill^ which is the present tense. J would have gone — the principal verb is I would or Iioilled. Should, also is a preterite, namely, shalled, from to shall. Another thing I observe is, that, both in Persian and in Enghsh, the preterite is formed in the same way, viz. by the addition of ed ; porsum porsedum—ask, asked. I should not won- der if. in the Saxon, or some other ancient northern language, from which the English comes, it is askedum. Thus you have a letter of pliilofogy. If 1 make any other great discoveries, and have nothing better to write about, I shall take the liberty of communicating them. Scire iuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat al- ter :*bvii this, I trust, is not my maxim. ' Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God,'' is much better." * Knowledge to yourself is in vain, unless others know tliat you have it. 276 MEMOIR OF " February 13, 1809. "Last Friday we liad the happiness and honor of finishing the four Gospels in Persian. The same even- ing I made some discovery respecting the Hebrew verb ; but was unfortunately so much delighted that I could not sleep; in consequence of which I have had a head-ache ever since. Thus even intellectual joys are followed by sorrow; not so spiritual ones. I pray continually that or^der may be preserved in my heart ; that I may esteem and delight most in that work which is really most estimable and delightful — the work of Christ and his apostles. When this is in any measure the case, it is surprising how clear and order- ly the thoughts are on other subjects. I am still a good deal in the dark respecting the objects of my pursuit; but have so far an insight, that I read Hebrew and Arabic with increasing pleasure and satisfaction." " February 29, 1809. "Your attack proves the necessity of diminishing your Sabbath services. I scarcely know how this week has passed, nor can I call to mind the circum- stances of one single day ; so absorbed have I been in my new pursuit. I remember, however, that during one night I did not sleep a wink. Knowing what would be the consequence the next day, I struggled hard, and turned every way, that my mind might be diverted from what was before it ; but all in vain. One disco- very succeeded another, in Hebrew, Arabic, and Greek, so rapidly, that I was sometimes almost in ecstacy ; but, after all, I have moved but a step : you may scold me, if you please, but I am helpless. I do not turn to HENRY MARTYN. 377 this Study of myself, but it turns to me, and draws mc away almost irresistibly. Still I perceive it to be a mark of a fallen nature, to be so carried away by a pleasure merely intellectual ; and, therefore, v/hile I pray for the gifts of His Spirit, I feel the necessity of being still more earnest for His grace. ' Whether there be tongues, they shall cease ; whether there be know- ledge it shall vanish away;' but 'charity never fail- eth.' Yesterday my mind was mercifully kept free the whole day : and I ministered without distraction, and moreover without fatigue. I do not know when I have found myself so strong. The state of the air affects me more than any thing else. On Saturday I completed my twenty-eighth year. Shall I live to see another birth-day ? It will be better to suppose not. I have not read Faber yet; but it seems evident to me that the 11th of Daniel, almost the whole of it, refers to future time. But as the time of accomplishing the Scriptures draws on, knowledge shall increase. In solemn expectation we must wait, to see how our God will come. How interesting are his doings ! We feel already some of that rapture wherewith they sing above, ' Great and wonderful are thy works. Lord God almighty! just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints !' " " March 3, 1809. "I did not write to you last week, because I was employed night and day, on Monday and Tuesday, with Sabat, in correcting some sheets for the press. 1 begin my letter now, immediately on receiving yours of last week. The account of your complaint, as you may suppose, grieves me exceeding] v ; not because I 24 278 me:moir of think that I shall outlive you, but because your useful labors must be reduced to one quarter of their present amount ; and that you may perhaps be obliged to take a voyage to Europe, which involves loss of time and money. But, O brother beloved ! what is life or death ? Nothing, to the believer in Jesus. ' He that believeth, though he were dead, yet. shall he live ; and he that liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die.' The first and most natural effect of sickness, as I have often found, is to cloud and terrify the mind. The attention of the soul is arrested by the idea of soon appearing in a new world ; and a sense of guilt is felt before faith is exercised in a Redeemer : and for a time this will predominate ; for the same faith that would overcome fear in heaitli, must be considerably strengthened, to have the same ascendency in sickness. I trust you will long live to do the work of your Lord Jesus. My discoveries are all at an end. I am just where I was j in perfect darkness, and tired of the pursuit. It is, how- ever, likely that I shall be constantly speculating on the subject. My thirst after knowledge is very strong ; but I pray continually that the Spirit of God may hold the reins ; that I may mind the work of God above all things ; and consider all things else as merely occa- sional." « March 13, 1809. •'How delightful is it to me, at this moment, to commune with a dear brother, who ' is not of the world, as the Lord was not of the world.' I am just come from the mess of the -. This morning the regiment was reviewed, and J, among the staff,* was * Mr. Martjai was Military Chaplain. HENilY MARTYN. 279 invited to a public dejeime and dinner. As I had no pretence for not going, I went. Yesterday our new place of worship was opened. It is a room eighty-one feet long, with a very large verandah. It will be a noble church ; but I fear will diminish somewhat of my strength. My text was, ' In all places where I record my name, I will come unto thee and bless thee.' O may the promise be fulfilled to us 1" At Cawnpore the hand of friendship and hospitality was stretched out to welcome Mr. Martyn ; and to af- ford him those attentions which, after a wearisome and perilous journey, were not only most gratifying to his feelings, but almost indispensable to the pre- servation of his life. From the pen of the lady* of that friend who then received him, a pen which has been often and happily employed in the sacred cause for which Mr. Martyn lived and labored, we have the fol- lowing account of his arrival at the new station to which he was appointed. " The month of April, in the upper provinces of Hindoostan, is one of the most dreadful months, for traveling, throughout the year; indeed, no European, at that time, can remove from place to place, but at the hazard of his life. But Mr. Martyn had that anxiety to be in the work which his heavenly Father had giv- en him to do, that, notwithstanding the violent heat, he traveled from Chunar to Cawnpore, the space of about four hundred miles. At that time, as I well re- member, the air was as hot and dry as that which I *Mrs. Sherwood. 280 MEMOIR OF have sometimes felt near the mouth of a large oven ; no friendly cloud or verdant carpet of grass to relieve the eye from the strong glare of the rays of the sun, pouring on the sandy plains of the Ganges. Thus Mr. Martyn traveled, journeying night and day, and arrived at Cawnpore in such a state, that he fainted away as soon as he entered the house. When we charged him with the rashness of hazarding his life in this manner, he always pleaded his anxiety to get to the great work. He, remained with us ten days, suffering considerably, at times, from fever and pain in the chest." Mr. Martyn's ov/n account of this dreadful and most distressing journey is thus briefly detailed to Mr. Corrie " Cawnpore, May 1, 1809. " The entrance to this place is through plains of immeasurable extent, covered with burning sand. The place itself I have not yet been able to see, nor shall, T suppose, till the rains : at present it is involved in a thick cloud of dust. So much for exordium. Let me take up my narrative from Mirzupore, from whence I wrote you a note. I reached Tarra about noon. Next day, at noon, reached Allahabad, and was hospitably re- ceived by Mr. G ; at night dined vvith him at the Judge's, and met twenty-six people. From Allahabad to Cawnpore how shall I describe what I suffered 1 Two days and two nights was I traveling without in- termission. Expecting to arrive early on Saturday morning, I took no provision for that day. Thus I lay in my palanquin, faint, with a head-ache, neither awake nor asleep, between dead and alive, the wind blowing flames. The bearers were so unable to bear up, that HENRY MARTYN. 281 we were six hours coming the last six kos (twelve miles.) However, with all these frightful circum- stances, I was brought, in mercy, through. It was too late on Saturday to think of giving notice of my arri- val, that We might have service ; indeed I was myself too weak. Even now the motion of the palanquin is not out of my brain, nor the heat out of my blood." Mr. Martyn's removal from Dinapore to Cawnpore was to him, in many respects, a very unpleasant ar- rangement. He was several hundred miles farther dis- tant from Calcutta, and was far more widely separa- ted than before from his friend Mr. Corrie : he had new acquaintances to form at his new abode; and, after having with much difficulty procured the erection of a church at Dinapore, he was transported to a spot where none of the conveniences, much less the decen- cies and solemnities of public worship were visible. We find him, soon after he arrived there, preaching to a thousand soldiers drawn up in a hoUow square, when the heat was so great, although the sun had not risen, that many actually dropped down, unable to support it. What must such services as these have been to a minister too faithful and zealous to seek refuge in in- dolent formality, and already weakened in health by former ministrations! He complained, if indeed he might ever be said to complain, of an attack of fever soon after the commencement of these services ; and there can be little doubt that they contributed very materially to undermine his constitution. No time, indeed, was lost by him, on this occasion, as before, in remonstrating upon this subject ; and his remon- 282 MEMOIR OF strances procured a promise that a church should be built. This expectation, however, was not fulfilled until his health was too much shaken to profit by its accom- plishment. At Cawnpore Mr. Martyn's ministerial duties varied little from those which had occupied him at Dinapore. Prayers and a sermon with the regiment, at the dawn of the morning ; the same service at the house of the general of the station, at eleven o'clock ; attendance at the hospital ; and in the evening, that part of his work Avhich was the most grateful and refreshing to his spirit, though performed under the pressure of mucli bodily fatigue— an exposition to the more devout part of his flock, with prayer and thanksgiving— made up the ordinary portion of his labors. The love of philology— in which science he fondly hoped to effect discoveries conducive to the elucida- tion of diflBlculties in the Scriptures — followed him from Dinapore to his new residence, and so haunted his mind, that, whether at home or abroad, whether by day or by night, he could not divest himself of it. For many successive days did he intensely pursue this study, and for many sleepless nights did this study pursue him. At length he thought that he had ascer- tained the meaning of almost all the Hebrew letters: by degrees, however, he became less ardent in these inquiries, either, from questioning the truth of those axioms which he had laid down, or from finding their mutility after he had established them. These abstruse speculations, together with duties of a more important character, one of the chief of which v/as the superintendence of the Arabic translation of HENRY MARTYX. 283 the New Testament, now begun and carried on con- jointly with a new Persian version, were soon inter- rupted, and for a time suspended, by a summons he received to Lucknow, for the purpose of celebrating a marriage, and by a similar call to Pretabjush. Con- cerning the latter he thus writes to Mr. Simeon, la- menting the inconvenience to v/hich he was exposed by such distant demands upon his services. "Just af- ter the last ship from Europe arrived, and I was hour- l)'- expecting my letters, I was summoned to a distant station to marry a couple, and did not return till three weeks after. It was a great disappointment to be thus suddenly sent to roam amongst jungles and jackalls, when I was feasting my fancy with delightful letters from my friends at home ; though Europe is no longer my home. However, my mind was soon reconciled to it, and I was often able to recite, with some sense of their sweetness, Mr, Newton's beautiful lines : ' In desert tracts, with Thee, my God, 'How happy could I be !' "The place to which I was called is Pretabjush, in the territory of Oude, which is still under the govern- ment of the Nabob. Oppression and insecurity of pro- perty seem to have stripped the country of its inhabi- tants. From Manicpore, where I left the river, to Pre- tabjush, a distance of fifty miles, I saw but two or three miserable villages, and no agriculture. The road was nothing more than a winding footpath through a con- tinued wood ; and that, in consequence, of the rains, was often lost. Indeed, all the lowlands were under water, which, added to the circumstance of traveling 284 MEMOIR CP by night, made the journey by no means a pleasant Dne. Being detained one Lord's day at the place, I as- sembled all the officers and compan)^ at the command- ing officer's bungalow, and preached the Gospel to them. There were five-and-thirty officers, besides la- dies, and other Europeans. You will have an idea of the Nabob'scountry, when you are informed that, last September, a young officer, going from his station to Lucknow, was stopped by robbers, and literally cut to pieces in his palanquin. Since that time, the Nabob has requested that every English gentleman wishing to visit his capital, may give notice of his intention to the Resident, in order that a guard may be sent. Ac- cordingly, a few months ago, when I had occasion to go to Lucknow, I had a guard of four troopers, armed with matchlocks and spears. I thought of Nehemiah, but was far too inferior to him in courage and faith not to contemplate the fierce countenances of my sa- telUtes with great satisfaction." Not long after Mr. Martyn's return from this expedi- tion, letters from Europe reached Cawnpore, bringing intelligence of a similar nature with that which had overwhelmed him in the preceding year. They con- tained intimations of the dangerous illness of that sis- ter who had been so instrumental to his conversion to the Lord ; and they were but too quickly followed by an account of her death. " O my dearest S ," he began to write, with a faint hope, at first, of the possi- bility of her receiving his letter, " that disease which preyed upon our mother and dear sister, and has often shown itself in me, has, I fear, attacked you. Although HENRY MARTYN. 285 I parted from you in the expectation of never seeing you in this life ; and though I know that you are, and have long been, prepared to go, yet to lose my last near relation, my only sister in nature and grace, is a dreadful stroke." " Dearest brother," he continued to her husband, from whom he had, in the meantime, received a more alarming account, " I can write no more to my sister. Even now something tells me that I have been addressing one in the world of spirits. But 3'et it is possible that I may be mistaken. No! I dare not hope. Your loss is greater than mine, and there- fore it would become me to offer consolation; but I cannot. I must wait till your next ; and in the mean- time I will continue to pray for you, that the God of all consolation may comfort you, and make us both, from this time, live more as pilgrims and strangers upon the earth. In the first three years after leav- ing my native land, I have lost the three persons whom I most loved in it. What is there now that I should wish to live for? O what a barren desert, what a howling wilderness does this world appear I But for tlie service of God in his church, and the preparation of my own soul, I do not know that I would wish to live another day." With a grateful tenderness, also, in the midst of this affliction, he thus addressed Mr. Simeon : — " My ever dear friend and brother, I address you by your true title, for you are a friend and brother, and more than a brother to me. Your letter, though it contains much afflictive intelligence, contains also much that demands my gratitude. In the midst of judgment he remembers mercy. He has been pleased to take away my last re- 286 MEMOIR OF maining sister (for I have no hopes of my poor S -'^9 recovery ;) he has reduced the rest of my family, but he has raised up a friend for me and mine. Tears of gratitude mingle with those of sorrow, whilst I think of the mercy of God, and the goodness of you, his in- strument." The close of the year 1809 was distinguished by the commencement of Mr. Martyn's first public ministra- tion among the heathen. A crowd of mendicants, whom, to prevent perpetual interruptions, he had ap- pointed to meet on a stated day, for the distribution of alms, frequently assembled before his house in im- mense numbers, presenting an affecting spectacle of extreme w.retchedness. To this congregation he de- termined to preach the word of the Savioi* of all men, who is no respecter of persons. Of his first attempt at this new species of ministration he thus speaks : " I told them, after requesting their attention, that I gave with pleasure the alms I could afford ; but wished to give them something better, namely, eternal riches, or the knowledge of God, which was to be had from God's word; and then producing a Hindoostanee trans- lation of Genesis, read the first verse, and explained it word by word. In the beginning, when there was no- thing, no heaven, no earth, but only God, he created without help, for his own pleasure. But who is God ? One so great, so good, so wise, so mighty, that none can know him as he ought to know : but yet we must know that he knows us. When we rise up, or sit down, or go out, he is always with us. He created heaven and earth ; therefore every thing in heaven, sun, moon. HENRY MARTYN. 287 and stars. Therefore, how should the sun be God, v^r the moon be God ? He created every thing on earth , therefore Ganges also; therefore, how should Ganges be God ? Neither are they like God. If a shoemaker make a pair of shoes, are the shoes like him ? If a man make an image, the image is not like man his maker. Infer secondly : if God made the heaven and earth for you, and made the meat also for you, vi^ill he not also feed you ? Know also, that he that made heaven and earth, can destroy them, and will do it ; therefore fear God, who is so great; and love God, who is so good." 8ucli was the substance of his first discourse, the whole of which was prepxhed sentence by sentence ; for, at the end of each clause, there followed applause and ex- planatory remarks from the wiser among them. " I bless my God," said Mr. Martyn, " for helping me beyond my expectations. Yet still my corrupt heart looks forward to the next attempt with some dread." The following Sunday he preached again to the beg- gars, in number about five hundred, on the work of the first and second day, when all he said was receiv- ed with great applause. And on the last day of the year he again addressed them, their numbers amount- ing to above five hundred and fifty ; taking for his sub- ject the works of the third and fourth day. " 1 did not," he remarks, "succeed so well as before; I sup- pose because I had more confidence in myself, and less in the Lord. I fear they did not understand me well ; but the few sentences that were clear, they ap- plauded. Speaking to them of the sea and rivers, I spoke to them again of the Ganges, that it was no more than other rivers. God loved the Hindoos ; but 288 MEMOIR or he loved other people too; and whatever river, or water, or other good thing, he gave Hindoos, he gave other people also : for all are alike before God. Gan- ges, therefore, is not to be worshipped ; because, so far from being a god, it is not better than other rivers. In speaking of the earth and moon, ' as a candle in the house, so is the sun,' I said, ' in the heavens. But would I worship a candle in my hand V These were nice points : I felt as if treading on tender ground, and was almost disposed to blame myself for imprudence. I thought that, amidst the silence these remarks pro- duced, I heard hisses and groans; but a few Moham- medans applauded." With these new labors of love the year 1809 termi- nated. " Ten years have elapsed," observed Mr. Mar- tyn on the last day of it, " since I was first called of God to the fellowship of the Gospel ; and ten times greater than ever ought to-be my gratitude to the ten- der mercy of my God for all that he has done for me. The ways of wisdom appear more sweet and reason- able than ever, and the world more insipid and vexa- tious. The chief thing I have to mourn over, is my want of more power and fervor in secret prayer, es- pecially when attempting to plead for the heathen. Warmth does not increase with me in proportion to my light." To the temporal and spiritual necessities of those wretched beings who statedly assembled before his house, Mr. Martyn continued to minister assiduously in the early part of the year 1810; nor did he cease to do so, whilst his health permitted, during the re- mainder of his residence at Cawnpore. The satis- HENRY MARTYN. 289 faction of seeing their numbers increase, sometimes amounting to as many as eight hundred persons, was exceeded by the more solid gratification of witnessing in them a growing attention to the instructions he de- livered. By degrees tumultuous applauses were suc- ceeded by pertinent remarks, or were lost in a serious and pensive silence. On one occasion, particularly, the apparent effect produced by his discourse was highly encouraging. An extraordinary impression was made on his Mohammedan and pagan auditory, whom he had been addressing on the awful subject of the de- struction of Sodom and Gomorrah, with equal simpli- city and solemnity. "After finishing," he observes, '' the narrative of the fall of Sodom, I said, without further preparation, ' Do you, too, repent of your sins, and turn to God?' It was this simple sentence that seemed to come with great power, and prevented my proceeding for a time. ' For though you are not like the men of Sodom — God forbid I — you are neverthe- less sinners. Are there no thieves, fornicators, railers, ' extortioners among you? Be you sure that God is angry. I say not that He will burn your town ; but that He will burn you. Haste, therefore, out of Sodom. Sodom is the world, which is full of sinners and sin. Come out, therefore, from amongst them : forsake not your worldly business, but your sinful companions. Do not be like the world, lest you perish with them. Do not, like Lot, linger; say not, to-morrow we will repent, lest you never see to-morrow — repent to-day. Then, as Lot, seated on the hill, beheld the flames in safety, you also, sitting on the hills of heaven, shall behold the ruins of the world without fear.'" 25 290 MEMOIR Of In the midst of these exertions, an attack of pain in the chest, of a severer kind than he had before expe- rienced, forced upon Mr. Martyn's mind the unwel- come conviction of the necessity of some quiet and relaxation. Upon the subject of his health, a subject which was becoming but too interesting and alarming to his friends in general, he thus wrote to Mr. Simeon, who long before had warmly urged him to the most watchful care and prudence. "I read your letter of 6th July. 1809, cautioning me against over-exertion, with the confidence of one who had nothing to fear. This ivaf? only three weeks ago. Since the last Lord's day your kind advice was brought home to my mind, accompa- nied with painful regret that I had not paid more at- tention to it. My work last Sunday was not more than usual, but far too much for me, I can perceive. First, service to his majesty's 63d regiment, in the open air ; then at head quarters ; in the afternoon preached to eight hundred natives ; at night to my little flock of Europeans. Which of these can I forego? The minis- tration to the natives might be in the week : but I wish to attach the idea of holiness to the Sunday. My even- ing congregation, on Sunday, is attended by twice a» many as in the week-day; so how can I let this go?"* With what extreme reluctance Mr. Martyn " spared himself," we see from the above letter. The progres? of his complaint, however, compelled him to overcome this reluctance; and to the Indian congregation, when they next assembled, he was obliged to declare that his ill health prevented him from addressing them ; upon which hundredsof voices were heai."" invoking for him HENRY MARTYN. 891 long life and health ; and when he dispensed his alms among them, their thankfulness seemed to know no bounds. Shortly after, however, he ventured to finish with these mendicants the history of Joseph, upon which he had entered ; and to resume also the whole of his duty on the Sabbath, with the exception of one service. And notwithstanding his extreme caution on that point, he received an old Hindoo woman, on the profession of her faith, " who, though she knew but little, was," he said, " lowliness itself." Whilst Mr. Martyn was thus laboring in the very fire, sometimes yielding to the pressure of his com- plaint, and affording himself a little ease and relaxa- tion ; at others, renewing it, either by private conver- sation or public services ; providentially for the pre- servation of the remnant of his health, in the begin- ning of June, his friend and brother, Mr. Corrie, ar- rived at Cawnpore, on his journey to his new station at Agra. This proved a most seasonable refreshment and relief to Mr. Martyn, both in body and mind ; for his friend, though himself in a weak state of health, undertook, by the permission of the commander-in- chief, who showed a kind consideration for Mr. Mar- tyn in his drooping condition, part of the duty, leav- ing to Mr. Martyn only the services of preaching to the natives at noon, and to the soldiers in the evening, in the performance of which he persuaded himself that he ought to persevere. How greatly his friends became alarmed at this juncture, will appear from the following animated and anxious letter from Mr. Brown : " You will know, from our inestimable brother Corrie, my solicitude 292 MEMOIR OP about your health. If it could make you live longer, I would give up any child 1 have, and myself into the bargain. May it please the adorable, unsearchable Be- ing with whom we have to do, to lengthen your span ! Amidst the dead and the dying, nothing can be more apparently prosperous to the church of God, than the overwhelmings now taking place in the earth. Christ will find his way to the hearts of men, and there will be a great company to praise him. I know not why we should wish to be saved, but for this purpose ; or why, but for this purpose, we should desire the con- version of Heathens, Turks, and Infidels. To find them at the feet of Jesus will be a lovely sight. Our feeble voices cannot praise him much. We shall be glad to see them clapping their hands and casting their crowns before him ; for all in heaven and earth cannot sufil- ciently praise him. I see no cause to wish for any thing but the advancement of that knowledge by which there is some accession of praise to his holy and blessed name. V/e grasp and would wish to gather all to Christ; but without him we can do nothing; he will gather to himself those that are his." From this time till the month of September Mr. Martyn persisted in his ministration to the natives, taking for the subject of several successive discourses the ten commandments. On one of these occasions he describes himself as speaking with great ease in his body, and joy in his heart. " Blessed be God," he says, "my strength is returning. O may I live to proclaim salvation through a Savior's blood." But this sunshine was soon overclouded ; and shortly after he again re- lapsed. BENRY MARTYN. 293 Such was the sinking state of his health, notwith- standing the seasonable and important assistance de- rived from the presence of Mr. Corrie, that a removal from Cawnpore, either to make trial of the effect of a sea voyage, or to return for a short time to England, became now a matter of urgent necessity. The adop- tion of the latter expedient he had once determined upon, conceiving that his complaint might arise from the relaxing effect of the climate, and that a bracing air would in that case be beneficial. Nor was this resolution formed without a reluctant struggle in his mind ; India held out to him the most powerful at- tractions, however strongly his affections were drawn towards his native country. That he had not forgotten one peculiarly dear to him, is shown in the following record, breathing equally a spirit of touching tender- ness and of meek resignation. "Sept. 22.— "Was walking with L ; both much affected, and speaking on the things dearest to us both. I awoke, and behold it was a dream ! My mind re- mained very solemn and pensive — I shed tears. The clock struck three, and the moon was riding near her highest noon ; all was silence and solemnity, and I thought with pain of the sixteen thousand miles be- tween us. But good is the will of the Lord ! even if I see her no more." The precise period of his departure from Cawnpore, as well as the place of his ultimate destination, were fixed by information received from Calcutta, concern- ing the Persian version of the New Testament. The version which had first been made in that Ian- 894 MEMOIR OF guage, two Gospels of whicli had been printed, had been considered, on further inspection and more ma- ture consideration, to require too many amendments to admit of its immediate publication. It was accord- ingly returned to the translator, who, under the super- intendence of Mr. Marty n, bestowed so much pains and attention upon it as to render it a new, and it was hoped, a sound and accurate work. Cy those, howev- er, who were considered competent judges at Calcutta, it was still deemed unfit for general circulation, inas- much as it was thought to abound in Arabic idioms, and to be written in a style, pleasing indeed to the 3earned, but not sufficiently level to the capacities of the mass of common readers. At this decision Mr. Martyn was as keenly disap- pointed as he was delighted at the complete success of the Hindoostanee version, which, on the minutest and most rigorous revision, was pronounced to be idiomaiic and plain. But meeting the disappointment with that spirit and elasticity of mind which is the result of lively faith, he instantly resolved, after committing his way to God in prayer, and consulting his friends, Mr. Corrie and Mr. Brown, on the subject, to go into Arabia and Persia, for the purpose of collecting the opinions of learned natives, with respect to the Per- sian translation, which had been rejected, as well as- of the Arabic version, which was yet incomplete, though nearly finished. Mr. Brown's reply, on this purpose being communi- cated to him, is too characteristic, both of himself and of Mr. Martyn, to be omitted. " But can I then," said he, "bring myself to cut the string and let j-ou go? HENRY MARTYN. 295 I confess I could not, if your bodily frame were strong, and promised to last for half a century. But, as you burn with the intenseness and rapid blaze of heated phosphorus, why should we not make the most of you ? Your flame may last as long, and perhaps longer, in Arabia, than in India. Where should the phosnix build her odoriferous nest, but in the land prophetically call- ed ' the blessed V — and where shall we ever expect, but from that country, the true Comforter to come to the nations of the east? I contemplate your New Testament, springing up, as it were, from dust and ashes, but beautiful 'as the wing? of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers like yellow gold.' " Towards the end of September, therefore, Mr. Mar- tyn put himself in readiness to leave Cawnpore ; and on his preaching for the last time to the natives, and giving them an account of the life, the miracles, the death, and the resurrection of Jesus, as well as a sum- mary of his heavenly doctrine — exhorting them to believe in him ; and taking them to record that he had declared to them the glad tidings of the Gospel — it was but too apparent that they would never again hear those sounds of wisdom and mercy from his lips. On the opening of the new church, also, where he preach- ed to his own countrymen — amidst the happiness and thankfulness which abounded at seeing " a temple of God erected, and a door opened for the service of the Almighty, in a place where, from the foundation of the world, the tabernacle of the true God had never stood," — a mournful foreboding could not be suppress- ed, that he, who had been the cause of its erection, and who now ministered in it for the first time, in the 296 MEMOIR OF beanty of holiness, would minister there no more. They beheld him as standing on the verge of the eter- nal world, and ready to take a splendid flight. " My father, ray father, the chariot of Israel and the horse- men thereof," were the sentiments with which many gazed on him. One of his auditors on this solemn oc- casion,* describes, in the following words, the feelings of many others, in depicting her own : "He began in a weak and faint voice, being at that time in a very bad state of health ; but, gathering strength as he pro- ceeded, he seemed as one inspired from on high. Never was an audience more affected. The next day this holy and heavenly man left Cawnpore, and the so- ciety of many who sincerely loved and admired him. He left us with little hope of seeing him again, until, by the me.rcy of our Savior, we meet with him in our Father's house." On the first day of October, the day following the delivery of this affecting discourse, after fervently uniting in prayer with his beloved friend and brother Mr. Corrie, with whom he was not again to meet and worship until separation shall cease for ever, and prayer be changed into endless hallelujahs, Mr. Mar- tyn departed from Cawnpore for Mr. Brown's resi- dence at Aldeen, which he safely reached on the evening of the last day of the month. In his voyage down the Ganges nothing of particular moment oc- curred, except that he visited the remains of his flock of the 67th at Gazeepore, " where," said he, " sad was the sight — many of the most hopeful were ashamed to look me in the face, and sorrow appeared in the * Mrs. Sherwood. HENRY MAETi'N. 297 faces of those who had remained faithful. About nine of these came to me in my boat, where we sung the hymn which begins. ' Come, ye that love the Lord ;' after which I spoke to and prayed with them, earnest- ly and affectionately, if ever I did in my life." This painful interview was succeeded by another, not unin- teresting, with Antonio, a monk, at Boglipore. "We sat in the evening," Mr. Martyn writes, " under a shed on the banks of tlie river, and began to dispute, in Latin, about the church. He grew a little angry, and I do not know what might have been the end of it; but the church-bells rang for vespers, and terminated the controversy. The church is in his garden ; a very neat building, hung round with some little mean en- gravings. A light was burning in the chancel, and an image of the Virgin, behind a curtain, as usual, was over the table. Antonio did not fail to bow to the image; but he did it in a way which showed he was ashamed of himself; at least, so I thought. He read some passages from the Hindoostanee Gospels, which I was surprised to find so well done. I begged him to go on with the Epistles, He had translated also the Missal, equally well done. He showed me the four Gos- pels in Persian, very poorly done. I rejoiced unfeign- edly at seeing so much done, though he followeth not with us. The Lord bless his labors ; and while he watereth others, may he be watered himself!" Restored, after an absence of four years, to an inter- course with his friends, who, on beholding his pallid countenance and enfeebled frame, knew not whether most to mourn or to rejoice, Mr. Martyn partook largely of that pure and refined happiness which is 298 MEMOIR OF peculiar to one of his vivid feelings and heavenly affections, in that society where they that " fear the Lord speak often one to another, and the Lord heark- ens and hears, and a book of remembrance is written before him for them that fear the Lord, and think upon his name." The following letter to Mr. Simeon, expresses the heartfelt sentiments of one of those friends* to whom India in general, and Calcutta in particular, stand so greatly indebted, after an inter- view chequered alternately by the varying lights and shades of joy and distress. "This bright and lovely jewel first gratified our eyes on Saturday last. He is on his way to Arabia, where he is going in pursuit of health and knowledge. You know his genius, and what gigantic strides he takes in every thing. He has some great plan in his mind, of which I am no com- petent judge ; but, as far as I do understand it, the ob- ject is far too grand for one short life; and much be- yond his feeble and exhausted frame. Feeble it is, in- deed ! how fallen and changed ! His complaint lies in his lungs, and appears to be an incipient consumption. But let us hope that the sea-air may revive him ; and that change of place and pursuit may do him essen- tial service, and continue his life many years. In all other respects, he is exactly the same as he was ; he shines in all the dignity of love, and seems to carry about him such a heavenly majesty as impresses the mind beyond description. But if he talks much, though in a low voice, he sinks, and you are reminded of his being ' dust and ashes.' " So infirm was the state of Mr. Martyn's health, thai * The Rev. Mr. Thomason. HENRY MARTYN. %« the indulgence of conversation with his friends soon produced a recurrence of those symptoms which had occasioned alarm at Cawnpore ; and yet, notwith- standing this, he preached every Sabbath at Calcutta, with one exception only, until he finally left it. Ani- mated with the zeal of that Apostle who at Troas con- tinued his discourse until midnight, he could not re- frain from lifting up his voice, weak as it was, in di- vine warnings and invitations, in a place where some- thing seemed to intimate that he should never again declare God's judgments against the impenitent, nor invite the weary and heavy laden to Jesus Christ for rest. " I now pass," said Mr. Martyn, on the first day of the year 1811, "from India to Arabia, not knowing the things that shall befall me there, but assured that an ever-faithful God and Savior will be with me in all places whithersoever I may go. May he guide me and protect me, and after prospering me in the thing whereunto I go, bring me back again to my delightful work in India. I am perhaps leaving it to see it no more ; but the will of God be done ; my times are in his hand, and he will cut them as short as shall be most for my good ; and with this assurance, I feel that nothing need interrupt my work or my peace." On the 7th day of January, after having preached a sermon on the anniversary of the Calcutta Bible So- ciety, which was afterwards printed, and entitled, "Christian India; or, an Appeal on behalf of nine hundred thousand Christians in India who want the Bible;" and after having, for the last time, addressed the mhabitants of Calcutta, from the text of Scripture, 300 MEMOIR OP " But one thing is needful," Mr. Martyn departed for ever from those shores, on which he had fondly and fully purposed to spend all his days. CHAPTER VIII. VOYAGE AND JOCRNEY FROM BENGAL TO PERSIA — INSUPPORTA- ©LE HEAT — ARRIVAL AT SlflRAZ — COMMENCES A NEW PER- SIAN TRANSLATION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT — DISCUSSIONS WITH THE PERSIAN MOOLAHS* In the former periods of Mr. Martyn's life, we have seen in him the successful candidate for academical distinctions — the faithful and laborious pastor — the self-denying and devoted missionary — the indefatiga- ble translator of the Scriptures — the preacher of the Gospel to the heathen. In this, the last and shortest portion of the contracted term of his earthly exist- ence, we are called to contemplate his character m a new and yet more striking light, and shall have oc- casion to admire in him the erect and courageous spirit of the Christian confessor. The occurrences which transpired between his de- parture from tiie mouth of the Hoogley and his arri- val at Shiraz, occupy a period of five months. They are partly recorded in the following extracts from his private journal, and partly related in a letter to Mr, Corrie, from Shiraz. BExNRY MARTYN. 301 " Bay of Bengal^ January, 1811. *'Itook a passage in the ship Ahmoody, Captain Kinsay, bound to Bombay. One of my fellow-passen- gers was the Honorable Mr. Elphinstone, who was proceeding to take the Residency of Poonah. His agreeable manners and classical acquirements made me think myself fortunate indeed, in having such a companion, and I found his company the most agree- able circumstance in my voyage." " Our captain was a pupil of Swartz, of whom he communicated many interesting particulars. Swartz, with KolhofF and Jcenicke, kept a school for half-cast children, about a mile and a half from Tanjore ; but went every night to the Tanjore church, to meet about sixty or seventy of the king's regiment, who assem- bled for devotional purposes : after which he officiated to their wives and children in Portuguese. At the school Swartz used to read in the morning out of the German 'Meditation for every day in the year;' at night he had family prayer. Jcenicke taught geogra- phy ; Kolhoff, writing and arithmetic. They had also masters in Persian and Malabar." " At the time when the present Rajah was in danger of his life from the usurper of his uncle's throne, Swartz used to sleep in the same room with him. This was sufficient protection, ' for (said the captain) Swartz was considered by the natives as something more than mortal.' The old Rajah, at his death, committed his nephew to Swartz." " All down the bay of Bengal I could do nothing but sit listless on the poop, viewing the wide waste of v/a- 26 302 MEMOIR OF ter ; a sight that would have been beautiful, had I been well." " On the 18th we came in sight of the Island of Ceylon." " In my Hebrew researches I scarcely ever felt so discouraged. AJl the knowledge I thought I had ac- quired became uncertain, and consequently I was un- happy. It was in vain that I reflected that thousands live and die happy, without such knowledge as I am in search of." Jan. 20. — Sunday. — " Had divine service in the ca- bin in the morning, but waited in vain for what I call a proper opportunity of introducing family prayer. When shall I have done with this pernicious delicacy, which would rather yield up souls than suffer a wound itself?" Jan. 22. — " Came to an anchor off Columbo. In the afternoon went on shore with Mr. Elphinstone, and walked to a cinnamon garden. The road all along v/as beautiful ; tall groves of cocoa-nut trees on each side, with the tents of the natives among them, opened here and there, and gave a view of the sea. The Cingalese who accompanied us, told the natives who saw us, that we were Protestant Christians. On our way back, we saw a party of Cingalese Christians returning home from a church-yard, where they had been burying a corpse. I crossed over to them, and found their Cate- chist, who, however, spoke too little English to give me any information." ^ Jan. 23.—" Sailed from Ceylon across the Gulf of Manaar, where there is generally a swell, but which we found smooth. Having passed Cape Comorin, and HENRY MARTVN- 303 come into smooth water, I propused having family prayer every night in the cabin ; and no objection way made. Spoke a ship to-day which was conveying pil- grims from Manilla to Jidda. The first object discern- ible under the high mountains at Cape Comorin was a church. As v/e passed along the shore, churches ap- peared every two or three miles, with a row of huts on each side. These churches are like the meeting-houses in England, with a porch at the west end. Perhaps many of these poor people, with all the incumbran- ces of popery, are moving towards the kingdom of heaven." Jan. 26. — " Anchored off Allepie. Learned that there were here about two hundred Christians, Portuguese, besides the fishermen cast. The church was a tempo- rary erection ; but a stone edifice is to be raised on the spot. The Portuguese Padre resides at another church about three miles off." Jan. 27 to 31. — " Generally unwell. In prayer, my views of my Savior have been inexpressibly consola- tory. How glorious the privilege that we exist but in him; without him I lose the principle of life, and am left to the power of native corruption— a rotten branch, a dead thing, that none can make use of. This mass of corruption, when it meets the Lord, changes its na- ture, and lives throughout, and is regarded by God as a member of Christ's body. This is my bliss, that Christ is all. Upheld by him, I smile at death. It is no longer a question about my own worthiness. I glory in God, through our Lord Jesus Christ." Feb. 7. — " Arrived at Goa. Spent the evening nt Mr. 's, to whom I had letters of recommendation. 304 MEMOIR OF The next day I went up, with Mr. Elphinstone and others, to Old Goa, where we were shown the con- vents and churches. At the convent of the Nuns, ob- serving one reading, I asked to see the book. It was handed through the grate; and as it was a Latin prayer-book, I wrote in it something about having the world in the heart, though flying from it to a convent. I tried to converse with two or three half-native monks, but they knew so little Latin that I could not gain much from them ; and the Portuguese Padres seemed to know still less. After visiting the tomb of Francis Xavier, we went to the Inquisition ; but we were not admitted beyond the anti-chamber. The priest we found there (a secular) conversed a little on the subject, and said that it was the ancient practice, that if any spoke against religion, they were conducted thither and chastised : that there were some prisoners there under examination at that time. No one dares resist the officers of the Inquisition ; the moment they touch a man, he surrenders himself." Feb. 17. — Sunday. — "A tempestuous sea throwing us all into disorder, we had no service." Feb. 18.— "Anchored at Bombay. This day I fin- ished the thirtieth year of my unprofitable life ; the age at which David Brainerd finished his course. I am now at the age at v/hich the Savior of men began his ministry, and at which John the Baptist called a nation to repentance. Let me now think for myself, and act with energy. Hitherto I have made ray youth and insignificance an excuse for sloth and imbeciUty : now let me have a character, and act boldly for God." Feb. 19. — " Went on shore. Waited on the Gover- HENRY MAHTTN. 306 nor, and was kindly accommodated with a room at the government-house." Feb. 21. — " Talked to the Governor about what we had been doing at Bengal, and begged that he would interest himself, and procure us all the information he could about the native Christians, which he promised to do. At Bombay there are twenty thousand Christians ; at Salselte, twenty-one thousand ; and at this place there are forty-one thousand, using the Mahratta lan- guage." Feb. 22. — " At the Courier press I saw the Malay- alim New Testament in print, as far as the eleventh of John." Feb. 24. — " Preached at the Bombay church." March 5. — "Feeroz, a Parsee, who is considered the most learned man here, called to converse about reli- gion. He spoke Persian, and seemed familiar with Arabic. He began with saying that no one religion had more evidences of its truth than another, for that all the miracles of the respective f«)unders depended upon tradition. This I denied. He acknowledged that the writer of the Zendavesta was not contemporary with Zoroaster. After disputing and raising objections, he was left without an answer, but continued to cavil. * Why,' said he, ' did the Magi see the star in the east, and none else? from what part of the east did they come? and how was it possible that their king should come to Jerusalem in seven days?' The last piece of information he had from the Armenians. I asked him 'Whether he had any thoughts of changing his religion?' He replied, with a contemptuous smile, ' No ; every man is safe in his own religion.' I asked him, 26» 306 MEMOIR OF What sinners must do to obtain pardon V ' Repent,' said he. I asked, ' Would repentance satisfy a credi- tor or a judge V ' Why, is it not said in the Gospel,' rejoined he, 'that we must repent?' I replied, 'It can- not be proved from the Gospel, that repentance alone is sufficient, or good works, or both.' ' Where, then, is the glory of salvation?' he said. I rephed, 'In the atonement of Christ.' 'All this,' said he, ' I know : but so the Mohammedans say, that Hosyn was an atone- ment for the sins of men.' He then began to criticise the translations which he saw on the table, and won- dered why they were not made in such Persian as was now in use. He looked at the beginning of the eighth of Romans, in the Christian Knowledge Soci- ety's Arabic Testament, but could gather no meaning at all from it." March 6. — " Feeroz called agam, and gave me some p.ccount of his own people. He said tliat they consid- ered the terms Magi and Guebr as terms of reproach, and that their proper name was Musdyasni; that no books were written in their most ancient language, namely the Pahlavee, but Zoroaster's twenty-one; of these twenty-one, only two remain. He showed me a part of a poem which he is writing; the subject is the conquest of India by the English; the title, Georgiad. He is certainly an ingenious man, and possesses one of the most agreeable qualities a disputant can possess, which is, patience : he never interrupted me ; and if I rudely interrupted him, he was silent in a moment." March 7. — "Mohammed Jan, a very young man, son of Mehdee Ali Khan, Lord Wellesly's Envoy to Persia, called. I should not have thought him worth HENRY MARTYN. 307 arguing with, he seemed such a boy ; but his fluency in Persian pleased nie so much, that I was glad to hear him speak ; he was, besides, familiar with all the argu- ments the Mouluwoes usually bring forward ; more- over, I thought tha'. perhaps his youthful mind might be more open to conviction than that of the hoary Moollahs." March 9. — '• Visited the Elephanta Island." March 10.— Sunday. — " This morning Feeroz called before church. He said that their order of priesthood consisted in the descendants of Zoroastrr, and werf^ called Mobid; that four times a month they assemblea, viz. the 6th, 13th, 20th, and 27th ; strangers were not allowed to see the sacred fire, 'though,' said the old man significantly. 'I think there is nothing unlawful in it, but tlie common people do.' He began to profess himself a deist. ' In our religion,' said he, ' they be- lieve as Zoroaster taught — that the heavens and earth were made ; but I believe no such thing.' " March 16. — "Walked at night with a respectable Jew of Bussorah, whose name was Ezra : he knew next to nothing." March 25. — " Embarked on board the Benares, Cap- tain Sealy 3 who, in company with the Prince of Wales, Captain Hepburn, was ordered to cruise in the Persian Gulf against the Arab pirates. We got under way immediately, and were outside the land before night." March 31.—" The European part of the ship's crew, consisting of forty-five sailors and twelve artillerymen, were assembled on the quarter-deck to hear divine service. I wondered to see so many of the seamen in- 308 "* MEMOIR OF attentive J but I afterwards found that most of them were foreigners, French, Spanish, Portuguese, &c. We had prayers in the cabin every night. In the afternoon 1 used to read to a sick man below, and two or three others would come to hear." April 14. — " Came in sight of the Persian coast, near Tiz, in Meehran." April 21. — ■' Anchored at Muscat, in Arabia." April 23. — " Went on shore with the Captain to the Indian broker's, at whose house we met the Vizier, by appointment. There was an unimportant conference, at which I assisted as interpreter. The Sultan was a few miles off, fighting with the Wechabites." April 24. — " Went with our English party, two Ar- menians, and an Arab soldier, to see a garden ; there was nothing very wonderful in the garden, but a little green in this frightful wilderness was, no doubt, to the Arab a great curiosity. His African slave argued with me for Mohammed, and did not know how to let me go, he was so interested in the business." April 25. — " The Arab soldier and his slave came on board to take leave. They asked to see the Gospel. The instant I gave them a copy in Arabic, the poor boy began to read, and carried it off as a great prize, which I hope he will find it to be. This night we warp- ed out of the Cove, and got under way. I had not had a night's rest from the day we entered it." April 26.—" Came in sight of the Persian shore again." April 28.— Sunday. — " At anchor in Jasques Bay, which the artillery officer surveyed. Captain Hepburn brought his crew to church. Went on board his ship HENRY MARTY N. 309 to see two Armenian young men, who informed mo of the conversion of Mirza Ishniael, son of Sliehool Is- lam, of Isfahan, who was gone to Bombay for baptism." May 7. — " Finished a work, on which I have been engaged for a fortnight; a new arrangement of all the Hebrew roots, classing them according to the last let- ter, the last but one, &c." May 20.—" After a troublesome north-wester, we have now a fair wind, carrying us gently to Bushire." May 22.—" Landed at Bushire." In his journey- from Bushire to Shiraz, it was not merely the ordinary inconveniences of traveling in Persia, which Mr. Martyn had to combat. So intense was the heat of the sun in the month of June as to en- danger his life; a peril of which he had no previous apprehension ; though, with so great an object before him, he would have been warranted in knowingly in- curring great danger towards the attainment of his purpose. Seventeen days elapsed, after landing at Bushire, be- fore he reached Shiraz ; of these, eight were consumed in preparation for traveling, and the remainder in ac- complishing his journey. The whole period is era- braced, and the very interesting events of it are re- corded in the following letter to Mr. Corrie. " A few days after my letter to you from Muscat, we sailed for the Gulf, and continued cruising a month, generally in sight of Persia or Arabia, sometimes of both. On the 22d of May we landed at Bushire, and took up our lodgings with Mr. . We are now in a 310 MEMOIR or new situation. Mrs. and her sister, both Arme- nians, spoke nothing but Persian at table ; the servants | and children the same. One day a party of Armenian j ladies came to kiss my hand, the usual mark of re-j spect shown to their own priests; I was engaged at j the time, but they begged to have it explained that they had not been deficient in their duty. The Arme- nian priest was as dull as they usually are. He sent for me one Sunday evening, to come to church ; though lie was ministering when I entered, he came out, and brought me within the rails of the altar ; and at the time of incense, censed me four times, while the others were honored with only one fling of the censer: this the old man begged me afterwards to notice. But though his civility was well meant, I could hardly prevail upon myself to thank him for it. It was due, he said, to a Padre ; thus we provide for the honor of our own order, not contented with that degree of re- spect which really belongs to us. Walking afterwards with him by the sea-shore, I tried to engage him in a conversation respecting the awful importance of our office ; but nothing could be more vapid and inane than his remarks. " One day we called on the governor, a Persian Khan: he was very particular in his attentions, seated me on his own seat, and then sat by my side. After the usual salutations and inquiries, the calean (or hookah) was introduced; then coffee in China cups placed within silver ones, then calean, then some rose- water syrup, then calean. As there were long inter- vals, often, in which nought was heard but the gurg ling of the calean, I looked round with some anxiety HENRY MARTYJI. 311 for something to discourse upon, and observing the windows to be of stained glass, I began to question him about the art of coloring glass, observing that the modern Europeans were inferior to the ancient in the manufacture of that article. He expressed his surprise that Europeans, who were so skillful in making watches, should fail in any handicraft work. I could not help recollecting the Emperor of China's sarcastic remark on the Europeans and their arts, and therefore dropped the subject. On his calean — I called it hookah at first, but he did not understand me — I noticed se- veral little paintings of the Virgin and Child, and asked him whether such things were not unlawful among the Mohammedans? He answered very coolly, 'Yes;' as much as to say, 'What then?' I lamented that the Eastern Christians should use such things in their churches. He repeated the words of one he ve- nerated, who was found fault with for having an image before him v/hiie at prayer: 'God is nearer to me than that image, so that I do not see it.' We then talked of the ancient Caliphs of Bagdad ; their magni- ficence, regard for learning, &c. This m.an, I after- wards found, is, like most of the other grandees of the east, a murderer. He was appointed to the govern- ment of Bushire, in the place of Arab Shekh, in whose family it had been for many years. The Persian, dreading the resentment of the other Arab families, invited the heads of them to a feast. After they had regaled themselves a little, he proposed to them to take off their swords, as they were all friends toge- ther: they did so, a signal was given, and a band of ruffians murdered them all immediately. The gover- 312 MEMOIR OF nor rode off with a body of troops to their villages, and murdered or secured their wives and children. This was about two years and a half ago. " Abdallah Aga, a Turk, who expects to be Pacha of Bagdad, called to examine us in Arabic ; he is a great Arabic scholar himself, and came to see how much we knew; or rather, if the truth were known, to show how much he himself knew. There was lately a conspiracy at Bagdad, to murder the Pacha. He was desired to add his name, which he did by compulsion, but secured himself from putting his seal to it, pre- tending he had lost it: this saved him. All the con- spirators were discovered and put to death; he es- caped with his life, but was obliged to fly to Bushire. "On the 30th of May our Persian dresses were ready, and we set out for Shiraz. The Persian dress consists of, first, stockings and shoes in one, next, a pair of large blue trowsers, or else a pair of huge red boots ; then the shirt, then the tunic, and above it the coat, both of chintz, and a great coat. I have here de- scribed my own dress, most of which I have on at this moment. On the head is worn an enormous cone, made of the skin of the black Tartar sheep, with the wool on. If to this description of my dress I add, that my beard and mustachios have been suffered to vege- tate undisturbed ever since I left India — that I am sit- ting on a Persian carpet, in a room without tables or chairs — and that I bury my hand in the pillau, without v^aiting for spoon or plate — you will give me credit . for being already an accomplished Oriental. "At ten o'clock, on the 30th, our cafila began to move. It consisted chiefly of mules, with a few horses. HENRY MARTVN. 313 I wished to have a mule, but the muleteer favored me with his own pony ; this animal had a bell fastened to its neck. To add solemnity to the scene, a Bombay trumpeter, who was going up to join the embassy, was directed to blow a blast as we moved off the ground ; but whether it was that the trumpeter was not an adept in the science, or that his instrument was out of order, the crazy sounds that saluted our ears had a lu- dicrous effect. At last, after some jostling, mutual re- criminations, and recalcitrating of the steeds, we each found our places, and moved out of the gate of the city in good order. The Resident accompanied us a little way, and then left us to pursue our journey over the plain. It was a fine moonlight night, the scene new, and perfectly oriental, and nothing prevented me from indulging my own reflections. I felt a little me- lancholy, but commended myself anew to God, and felt assured of his blessing, presence, and protection. As the night advanced, the cafila grew quiet; on a sudden one of the muleteers began to sing, and sang in a voice so plaintive, that it was impossible not to have one's attention arrested. Every voice was hushed. As you are a Persian scholar, I write down the whole, with a translation : 'Think not that e'er my heart could dwell ' Contented far from thee : * How can the fresh-caught nightingale ' Enjoy tranquillity 1 •O then forsake thy friend for nought 'That slanderous tongues can say: *The heart that fixeth where it ought, Ko power can rend away.' 27 314 xMEMOIR OP " Thus far ray journey was agreeable ; now for mis- eries. At sunrise we came to our ground at Aiimedo. six parasangs, and pitched our little tent under a tree , »t was the only shelter we could get. At first, the heat was not greater than we had felt in India, but it soon became so intense as to be quite alarming. When the thermometer was above 112'', fever heat, I began to lose my strengtli fast; at last it became quite intolera- : ble. I wrapped myself up in a blanket and ail the warm covering I could get, to defend myself from the external air ; by which means the moisture was kept a little longer upon the body, and not so speedily evapo- rated as when the skin was exposed ; one of my com- panions followed my example, and found the benefit of It, But the thermometer slill rising, and the moisture of the body being quite exhausted, I grew restless, and thought I should have lost my senses. The thermo- meter at last stood at 126°; in this state I composed my- self, and concluded that though I might hold out a day or two, death was inevitable. Capt. , who sat it out, coniinued to tell the liour and height of the ther- mometer; and with what pleasure did we hear of its sinking to 120% 118°, &,c. At last the fierce sun re- tired, and I crept out, more dead than alive. It was then a difllculty how I could proceed on my journey ; for besides the immediate effects of the heat, I had no opportunity of making up for the last night's want of sleep, and had eaten nothing. However, while they were loading the mules I got an hoiir's sleep, und set out, the muleteer leading my horse, and Zachariah, my servant, an Armenian, of Isfahan, doing all in iiis power to encourage luc. The cool air of the night re- HENRY MARTY X. 315 Stored me wonderfully, so ihiit I arrived at our next liiunzel with no other derangement than that occasion- ed by want of sleep. Expecting another such day a.s the former, we began to make preparation the instaiu Ave arrived on the ground. I got a tatiie made of t];e branches of the date-tree, and a Persian peasant to water it 3 by this means the thermometer did not rise higher than 114"^. But what completely secured me from the heat was a large wet towel, which I wrap- ped round my head and body, mnffling up the lower part in clothes. How could I but be grateful to a gra- cious Providence for giving me so simple a defence against what, I am persuaded, would have destroyed my life that day. We took care not to go without nourishment, as we had done; the neighboring vil- lage supplied us with curds and milk. At sunset, ris- ing up to go out, a scorpion fell upon my clothes; not seeing where it fell, I did not know what it was ; hut Capt. pointing it out, gave the alarm, and I struck it off, and he killed it. The night before we found a black scorpion in our tent; this made us ra- ther uneasy ; so that, though the cafila did not start till midnight, we got no sleep, fearing we might be visited by another scorpion. " The next morning we arrived at the foot of the mountains, at a place where we seemed to have disco- vered one of nature's ulcers. A strong suffocating smell of naphtha announced something more than ordinarily foul in the neighborhood. We saw a river; what flowed in it, it seemed difficult to say, whether it were walt-r or green oil; it scarcely moved, aiid the stones which it laved, it left of greyish color, as if its foul touch hud 316 MEMOIR OF given them the leprosy. Our place of encampment this day was a grove of date-trees, where the atmos- phere, at sunrise, was ten times hotter than the ambient air. I threw myself down on the burning ground, and slept : when the tent came up, I awoke, as usual, in a burning fever. All this day I had recourse to the wet towel, which kept me alive, but would allow of no sleep. It was a sorrowful Sabbath ; but Capt. read a few hymns, in which I found great consolation. At nine in the evening we decamped. The ground and air were so insufferably hot, that I could not travel with- out a wet towel round my face and neck. This night, for the first time, we began to ascend the mountains. The road often passed so close to the edge of the tre- mendous precipices, that one false step of the horse would have plunged his rider into inevitable destruc- tion. In such circumstances I found it useless to at- tempt guiding the animal, and therefore gave him the rein. These poor animals are so used to journies of this sort, that they generally step sure. There was no- thing to mark the road but the rocks being a little more worn in one place than in another. Sometimes my horse, which led the way, as being the muleteer's, stopped, as if to consider about the way: for myself, I could not guess, at such times, where the road lay ; but he always found it. The sublime scenery would have impressed me much, in other circumstances; but my sleepiness and fatigue rendered me insensible to every thing around me. At last we emerged superas ad auras* not on the top of a mountain, to go down * To open air. IIENKY MARTVN. .?17 aeain — but to a plain or upper world. At the pass, v/here a cleft in the mountain admitted lis into the plain, was a station of Kahdars. While they woe ex- amining the muleteer's passports, &c. lime was given for the rest of the cafila to come up, and I jjot a liliU; sleep for a few minutes. We rode briskly over the plain, breathing a purer air, and soon came in siglit of a fair edifice, built by the king of the country lor the refreshment of pilgrims. In this caravansera we took up our abode for the day. It was more calculated for eastern than European travelers, having no means of keeping out of the air and light. We found the ther- mometer at 110®. At the passes we met a man travel- ing down to Bushire with a load of ice, which he wil- lingly disposed of tons. The next night we ascended another range of mountains, and passed over a plain, where the cold was so piercing, that, with all the clothes we could muster, we were shivering. At (he end of this plain we entered a dark valley, contained by two ranges of hills converging to one another. The muleteer gave notice he saw robbers. It proved to be a false alarm ; but the place was fitted to be a re- treat for robbers ; there being, on each side, caves and fastnesses from which they might have killed every man of us. After ascending another mountain, we de- scended, by a very long and circuitous route, into an extensive valley, where we were exposed to the sun till eight o'clock. Whether from the sun, or from con- tinued want of sleep, I could not, on my arrival at Carzeroon, compose myself to sleep; there seemed to be a fire within my head, my skin like a cinder. ;uul the pulse violent. Through the day it was again luo 27* 318 MEMOIR OF hot to sleep ; though the place we occupied was a sort of a summer-house, iii a garden of cypress trees, ex- ceedingly well fitted up with mats and colored glass. Had the cafila gone on that night, I could not have accompanied it; but it halted here a day ; by which means I got a sort of night's rest, though 1 awoke twenty times to dip my burning hand in water. Though Carzeroon is the second greatest town in Fars, we could get nothing but bread, milk, and eggs, and those with difficulty. The Governor, who is under great obligations to the English, heard of our arrival, but sent no message. June. 5. — " At ten we left Carzeroon, and ascended a mountain : we then descended from it on the other side, into a beautiful valley, where the opening dawn discovered to us ripe fields of wheat and barley, with the green oak, here and there, in the midst of it. We were reminded of an autumnal morning in England. Thermometer 62°." June 6. — "Halfway up the Peergan mountain we found a caravansera. There being no village in the neigiiborhood, we had brought supplies from Carze- roon. My servant Zachary got a fall from his mule this morning, which much bruised him; he looked very sorrowful, and had lost much of his garrulity. Zachary had become remarkable throughout the cafila for making speeches ; he had something to say to all people, and on all occasions." June 7. — " Left the caravansera at one this morn- ing, and continued to ascend. The hours we were per- mitted to rest, the musketoes had effectually prevented me from using ; so that I never felt more miserable HENRY MARTYN. 319 and disordered ; the cold was very severe ; for fear of falling off, from sleep and numbness, 1 wallced a good part of the way. We pitched our tent in the vale of Dustarjan, near a crystal stream, on the banks of which we observed the clover and golden cup : the whole val- ley was one green field, in which large herds of cattle were browsing. The temperature was about that of spring in England. Here a few hours' sleep recovered me, in some degree, from the stupidity in which I had been for some days. I awoke with a light heart, and said, ' He knoweth our frame, and remembereth we are dust. He redeemeth our life from destruction, and crowneth us with loving-kindness and tender mercies. He maketh us to lie down in the green pastures, and leadeth us beside the still waters.' And when we have left this vale of tears, there is no more sorrow, nor sighing, nor any more pain. ' The sun shall not light upon thee, nor any heat : but the Lamb shall lead thee to living fountains of waters.' " June 8.—" Went on to a caravansera, three para- sangs, where we passed the day. At night set out upon our last march for Shiraz- Sleepiness, my old com- panion and enemy, again overtook me. I was in per- petual danger of falling off my horse, till at last I push- ed on to a considerable distance beyond the cafila, planted my back against a wall, and slept I know not how long ; till the good muleteer came up and gently waked me." " In the morning of the 9th we found ourselves in the plain of Shiraz. We put up at first in a garden, but are now at Jafller Ali Khan's." Arrived at the celebrated seat of Persian literature. 320 MEMOIR OF Mr. Mart^/n, having ascertained tlie general correct- ness of the opinion delivered at Calcutta, respecting the translation of the New Testament by Sabat, imme- diately commenced another version in the Persian language. An able and willing assistant, in this ardn ous and important work, presented himself in the per son of Mirza Seid Ali Khan, the brother-in-law of his liost, Jaffier Ali Khan. His coadjutor, he soon disco- vered, was one of a numerous and increasing religious community, whose tenets, if that term be not inappli- cable to any thing of so fluctuating and indefinite a nature as their sentiments, appear to consist in a re- fined mysticism of the most latitudinarian complexion ; a quality, be it remembered, entirely opposite to the exclusive character and inflexible spirit of Christianity; and which, pervading, as it does so completely, the system of Soofeism, sufficiently accounts for its tole- ration under a Mohammedan despotism, of a purer and more absolute kind than exists even in the Turkish dominions. In Jaffier Ali Khan, a Mohammedan of rank and consequence, to whom I^Ir. Martyn had letters of re- commendation, he found a singular urbanity of man- ners, united to a temper of more solid and substantial excellence — a kindness of disposition, ever fertile in expedients conducive to the comfort and convenience of his guest. There was in him also, as well as in his brother-in-law, what was still more gratifying, an en- tire absence of bigotry and prejudice; and on all occa- sions he was ready to invite, rather than decline, the freest interchange of opinion on religious topics. The work for which I\Ir. Martyn had come to Shi- HENRY MARTYN. 821 raz, was commenced on the 17th of June, little more than a week after his reaching that city. It was pre- ceded by a very pleasing interview with two priests of the Mohammedan faith, of which we have this ac- count:— "In the evening, Seid Ali came, with two Moollahs, disciples of his uncle Mirza Ibraheem, and with them I had a very long and temperate discus- sion. One of them read the beginning of St. John in the Arabic, and inquired very particularly into our opinions respecting the person of Christ ; and when he was informed that we did not consider his human nature eternal, nor his mother divine, seemed quite satisfied, and remarked to the others, 'how much mis- apprehension is removed when people come to an ex- planation.'" As Mr, Martyn was himself an object of attention and curiosity in Shiraz, and the New Testament itself was wholly new to his coadjutor, he was not suffered to proceed with his work without many interruptions. *' Seid Ali," he writes, June 17, "began translating the Gospel of John with me. We were interrupted by the entrance of two very majestic personages, one of whom was the great grandson of Nadir Shah. The uncle of the present king used to wait behind his father's table. He is now a prisoner here, subsisting on a pension." June 18.— "At the request of our host, who is al- ways planning something for our amusement, we passed the day at a house built half-way up one of the hills which surround the town. A little rivulet, issuing from the rock, fertilizes a few yards of ground, which bear, in consequence, a cypress or two, sweet briar, essamine, and pinlcs. Here, instead of a quiet retreat, 322 MEMOIR OF we found a number of noisj-, idle fellovi-s, who were {^ambling all day, and as loquacious as the men who occupy an alehouse bench. The Persians have cer- tainly a most passionate regard for water ; I suppose because they have so little of it. There was nothinar at all in this place worth climbing so high for, except the little rivulet." June 23. — "The prince's secretary, who is consi- dered to be the best prose-writer in Shiraz, called upon us. One of his friends wanted to talk about Soofeism. They believe they know not what. It is mere vanity that makes them profess this mysticism. He thought lo excite my wonder by telling me that I, and every created thing, was God. I asked how this was consis- tent with his religion? He then mentioned the words from the Koran, ' God can be with another thing only by pervading it.' Either from curiosit}?^, or to amuso themselves at an Indian's expense, they called in an Indian Moonshee, who had come with us from Ben- gal, and requested him to recite some of his poetry. Thus I had an opportunity of witnessing tliis exhibi- tion of eastern folly. After a few modest apologies, the Indian grew bold, and struck oft a few stanzas. The Persians affected to admire them, though it was easy to see that they were laughing at his pronuncia- tion and foreign idiom. However, they condescended lo recite, in their turn, a line or two of their own com- position ; and before they went away, wrote down a stanza or two of the Indian's, to signify that they were worth preserving." June 26. — '• Two young men from the college, full of zeal and logic, came this morning to try rae wiiU HENRY MARTYN. 323 hard questions, such as, Whether being be one or iv/o? What is the state and form of disembodied spi- rits? and other foolish and unlearned questions, min- istering strife ; on ail which I declined wasting ray breath. At last, one of them, who was about twenty years of age, discovered the true cause of his coming, by asking me bluntly to bring a proof for the religion of Christ. 'You allow the divine mission of Christ,' said I, ' why need I prove it?' Not being able to draw me into an argument, they said what they wished to say, namely, ' that I had no other proof for the mira- des of Christ than they had for those of Mohammed, which is tradition.' ' Softh^,' said I, ' you will be pleas- ed to observe a difference between your books and ours. W^hen, by tradition, we have reached our seve- ral books, our narrators were eye-witnesses ; yours are not, nor nearly so.' in consequence of the inter- ruption these lads gave me, for they talked a long lime v/ilh great intemperance, I did little to-day. "In the evening, Seid Ali asked me 'the cause of evil?' I said, ' I know nothing about it.' He thought he could tell me; so I let him reason on, till he soon found he knew as little about the matter as myself. He wanted to prove that there was no real difference betv/een good and evil — that it was only apparent. I observed that this cifTerence, if only apparent, was the cause of a great deal of real misery. "While correcting tiie fifth of John, he was not a iiltle surprised at finding such an account as that of an ange! coming down and troubling the waters. Wlien ••c found that I had no way of explaining it, but was obliged to understand it literally, he laughed, as if say- 324 MEMOIR OP ing, 'there are other fools in the world besides Mc-' hammedans.' I tried to lessen his contempt and incre- dulity by saying that 'the first inquiry was, is the book from God V ' Oh ! to be sure,' said he ; ' it is writ- ten in the Bible; we must believe it.' I asked him * whether there was any thing contrary to reason in the narrative ? whether it was not even possible that the salubrious powers of other springs were owing to the descent of an angel V Lastly, I observed, ' that all natural agents might be called the angels of God/ 'This,' he said, 'was consonant to their opinions} and that when they spoke of the angel of the winds, the angel of death, &c, nothing more was meant than the cause of the winds, &c.' " June 27. — "Before I had taken my breakfast, the younger of the youths came, and forced me into i; conversation. As soon as he heard the word ' Father,' in the translation, used for 'God,' he laughed, and went away. Soon after, two men came in, and spoke violently for hours. Seid Ali, and a respectable r>Ion- luwee, whom he brought to introduce to me, took up the cudgels against them, and said that ' the onus jprch- haiidi rested with them, and not with me.' Zachariaii told me this morning that I was the town talk ; and it was asserted that I was come to Shiraz to be a Mus- sulman, and should then bring five thousand men to Shiraz, under pretence of making them Mussulmeu, but in reality to take the cit}^" June 28.—" The poor boy, while writing how one of the servants of the high-priest struck the Lord on the face, stopped, and said, ' Sir, did not his hand dry up?'" HENRY MARTYN. 325 June 30.— Sunday. — "Preached to the Ambassador's suite on the ' faithful saying.' " July 1. — "A party of Armenians came, and said, among other things, that the Mohammedans would be glad to be under our English government. Formerly they despised and hated the Feringees, but now they begin to say, ' What harm do they do ? they take no man's wife, no man's property.' " Abdoolghunee, the Jew Mohammedan, came to prove that he had found Mohammed in the Pentateuch. Among other strange things, he said that the Edom- ites meant the Europeans, and that Mount Sion was in Europe. Afterwards Seid Ali asked me to tell him in confidence, why I believed no prophet could come after Christ. I chose to begin with the atonement, and wished to show that it was of such a nature that sal- vation by another was impossible. 'You talk,' said he, ' of the atonement, but I do not see it any where in the gospels.' After citing two passages from the gos- pels, I read the third chapter of Romans, and the fifty- third of Isaiah. With the latter he was much struck. He asked many more questions, the scope of which was, that though Islam might not be true, he might still remain in it, and be saved by the Gospel. I said, ' You deny the divinity of Christ.' ' I see no difliculty in that,' said he. ' You do not observe the institutions of Christ — baptism and the Lord's supper.' ' These,' said he, 'are mere emblems; and if a man have the reality, what need of emblems ?' ' Christ,' said I, ' fore- saw that the reality would not be so constantly per- ceived without them, and therefore enjoined them.' He said that ' in his childhood he used to cry while 28 Sod MEMOIR OF hearing about the suflferings of Christ,^ and he wepi while mentioning it." The 3d of July was distinguished by a conversation kept up between Mr. Martyn and two MooUahs, one of whom displayed a very different spirit from that which had actuated those ministers of the Mohamme- dan religion who first visited him. " The Jewish Mool- lah Abdoolghunee, with MooUah Abulhasan," he writes, " came prepared for a stiff disputation, and ac- cordingly the altercation was most violent. Jaffier All Khan and Mirza Seid Ali were present, with many others. The Jew began by asking, v/hether we be- iieved that Jesus suffered ? I referred him to the 9th of Daniel, ' Messiah shall be cut off, but not for him- self.' 1 begged him to show who was the Messiah of whom Daniel spoke, if it was not Jesus. " At Abulhasan's request, he began to give his rea- sons for believing that Mohammed was foretold in the Old Testament. The Jew wanted to show that when it is said, ' Moses went out, and the twelve princes with him,' the meaning is that Moses had twelve reli- gious Khaleefs, just like Mohammed. I explained to the Mussulman that they were not for religious affairs, but worldly ; deciding causes, &c. ; and that religious services were confined to on€ tribe. " He proceeded to Deut. 18 : 18, ' The Lord will raise from among their brethren.' ' Brethren,' he said, ' must mean some ether than Jews. That Moses and Jesus were not alike. Moses gave a law before he went: Jesus did not; his disciples made one for him whereas Mohammed left a book himself. That Moses was a warrior ; that Christ was not ♦ but that Moham- HENRY MARTYN. 327 med was.' I replied — ' that the words of God, " from among their brethren,'''' Moses explained by those, " from among ihee ;" and that this excludes the possi- bility of Mohammed being meant.' After they were gone, I found Lev. 25 : 46, which supplies a complete answer. In reply to the objection that Moses and Christ were not alike, I said, ' that in respect of the propheiic office, there was such a likeness as did not exist between any other two prophets ; in that each brought a new law, and each was a Mediator.'' " The Jew next read the sixty-first of Isaiah, and commented. I then read the same chapter, and ob- served that Christ had cited one of the passages for himself. ' The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,' &c. This they attended to, because Christ had said so ; but as for Peter's appropriating the passage in Deuterono- my to Christ (Acts, 3,) they made no account of it. So ignorant are they of the nature of revelation. '• "When we were separating, the Moollah Abulhasan gravely asked me whether, if I saw proof of Moham- med's miracles, I would believe, and act as one who sought the truth?' I told him ' I wished for nothing but the truth.' He then said, ' we must have an um- pire.' ' But where,' said I, ' shall we find an impartial one V ' He must be a Jew,' said one. ' Well, then,' added another, ' let Abdoolghunee be the man.' The apostate Jew swore, by the four sacred books, that he would give 'just judgment.' I could not conceal my indignation at such a ridiculous proposal, and said to the Jew, 'You impartial! As a Mohammedan, you oiiglil. to speak well of Christ ; but it is easy to see that, like your brethren, you hate Jesus as bitterly as 328 MEMOIR OF ever.' He was quite alarmed at this charge before the Mohammedans, by whom he has long been considered as no true Mohammedan ; and, in the most gentle manner possible, he assured me that ' none could have a greater respect for Jesus than he had ; and that, pos- sibly, in the text in Deuteronomy, Jesus might be meant as well as Mohammed.' " At the end of this vehement controversy, when they were most of them gone, I said to Seid Ali, ' that I had thought, whatever others did, he would not have denied me common justice.' He took me aside, and said to me very earnestly, ' You did not understand me. Abulhasan is my enemy : nothing does he want so much as to bring me into danger ; I must therefore show some little regard for the religion.' He told me that Mirza Ibrahim, the preceptor of all the Moollahs, was now writing a book in defence of Mohammedan- ism, and that it was to this that Abulhasan alluded, as that which was to silence me for ever." July 4.—" Seid Ali having informed the Jew that I had found an answer to his argument from Genesis, 14, he came to know what it was, and staid the whole morning, asking an infinity of questions. He showed himself extremely well read in the Hebrew Bible and Koran, quoting both with the utmost readiness. He argued a little for the Koran, but very coldly. He con- cluded by saying, ' he must come to me every day, and either make me a Mussulman, or become himself a Christian.' " The progress of the translation gave rise to the fol- lowing affecting discourse between Seid Ali and Mr. Martyn. " Seid Ali, while perusing the twelfth of John, HENRY MARTY«. 329 observed, ' How he loved lhe?e twelve persons I' ' Yes, said I, ' and all those who believe on him through their word.' After our work was done, he began to say, From my childhood I have been in search of a reli- gion, and am still undecided. Till now, I never had an opportunity of conversing with those of another religion : the English I have met in Persia have gene- rally been soldiers, or men occupied with the world.' To some remarks I made about the necessity of hav- ing tbc mind made up upon such a subject, consider- ing the shortness of our stay here, he seemed cordial- ly to assent, and shed tears. I recommended prayer, and the consideration of that text, ' If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine ;' and spoke as having found it verified in my own experience ; that when I could once say before God, ' What wilt thou have me to do V I found peace. I then went through all the different states of my mind at the time I was called to the knowledge of the Gospel. He listened with great interest, and said, ' You must not regard the loss of so much time as you give me, because it does me good.' " The situation of those whose forefathers crucified tbe Lord of glory, is ever pitiable to a Christian mind : but how much more are the Jews entitled to compas- sion, when groaning under the iron rod of oppression on the one hand, and tempted on the other to exchange their own religion for a base imposture, upon the basest considerations ! Who can read the following ac- count of their condition at Shiraz, without sighing over the depth of their temporal and spiritual degradation ! July 5.—" The Jew came again, with another Jew, 28* 330 MEMOIR OF both Mussulmen. The prince gives every Jew, on con- version, an honorary dress ; so they are turning Mo- hammedans every day. A young man, son of the old Jew, asked, ' How it could be supposed that God would ;eave so many nations so long in darkness, if Islam be an error?' The father sat with great complacency, to see how I could get over this. I asked, ' Why God for four thousand years made himself known to their na- tion only, and left all the rest in darkness?' They were silent. " The old man, forgetting he was a Mussulman, asked again, 'If Jesus was the Messiah, why did not the fiery wrath of God break out against them, as it did formerly for every small offence?' ' But first,' said he, 'what do you think of God's severity to the Jews at other times ?' I said, ' If my son do any thing wrong, I punish him ; but with the thieves and mur- derers out of doors I have nothing to do.' This affect- ed the old man; and his son recollected many pas- sages in the Bible appropriate to this sentiment, and said, * Yes, they were indeed a chosen generation.' I proceeded— ' But did not the wrath of God break out against you at the death of Christ, in a more dreadful manner than ever it did?' They mentioned the capti- vity. 'But what,' said I, ' was the captivity? it lasted but seventy years. But now seventeen hundred years have passed away, and have you a king or a tem- ple ? Are you not mean and despised every where V They seemed to feel this, and nodded assent. " During this conversation I said — ' God has raised up a great prophet from the midst of you, and now you are gone after a stranger, of a nation who were HENRY MARTYN. 331 always your enemies. You acknowledge Jesus, in deed ; but it is only for fear of the sword of the Ish- maelite.' They wondered why the Christians should love them more than they do the Mohammedans, as I told them we did ; and pretended to argue against it, as unreasonable, evidently from a wish to hear me repeat a truth which was so agreeable to them." On the morning of the 6th, Mr. Martyn, ever anx- ious to pay all due reverence to 'the powers that be,' presented himself, with the Ambassador and suite, before Prince Abbas Mirza. He thus describes the ceremony : " Early this morning I went with the Am- bassador and his suite to court, wearing, agreeable to costume, a pair of red cloth stockings, with green, high-heeled shoes. When we entered the great court of the palace, a hundred fountains began to play. The Prince appeared at the opposite side, in his talar, or hall of audience, seated on the ground. Here our first bow was made. When we came in sight of him, we bowed a second time, and entered the room. He did not rise, nor take notice of any but the Ambassador, with whom he conversed at the distance of the breadth of the room. Two of his ministers stood in front of the hall, outside; the Ambassador's Mihmander and the Master of the Ceremonies, within, at the door. We sat down in order, in a line with the Ambassador, with our hats on. I never saw a more sweet and en- gaging countenance than the Prince's ; there was such an appearance of good nature and humility m all his demeanor, that I could scarcely bring myself to be- lieve that he would be guilty of any thing cruel or ty- rannical." 332 MEMOIR OF The Jewisli Moollah, who, a few days before, had attempted to support a heresy whicli -he himself did not believe, revisited Mr. Martyn, accompanied by one of his brethren who had apostatized. These were fol- lowed, qn the same day, by two other visitors, one of whom was a man of great consequence, and of equal courtesy. "The Jew came again," he says, "with one of his apostate brethren from Bagdad. As he Avas boasting to Seid Aii that he had gained one hundred .Jews to Islam, I could not help saying, I will tell you how Jews are made Mohammedans. First, the Prince gives them a dress; secondly — here the old man co- lored, and, interrupting me, began to urge that it was not with the hope of any worldly advantage. "His object to-day was, to prove tbat the passages in the Old Testament, which we applied to Jesus, did not belong to him. I referred him to the 16th Psalm. He said 'that none of the prophets saw corruption.' He did not recollect the miracle wrought by the bones of Ehsha; neither did I at the time. "Mohammed Shareef Khan, one of the most re- nowned of the Persian generals, having served the present royal family for four generations, called to see me, out of respect to general Malcolm. An Armenian priest also, on his way from Bussorah to Isfahan : he was as ignorant as the rest of his brethren. To my surprise I found he was of the Latin Church, and read the service in Latin, though he confessed he knew nothing about the language." Mr. Martyn, unwilling to lose any opportunity (if it were the will of God) of benefiting the inhabitants of HENRY MARTYN. 333 was in the observance of the Sabbath, he admitted them even on that day to speak with him ; for he had learnt tlie import of those words, "I will have mercy and not sacrifice." In consequence, however, of his re- moval, in the middle of the month of July, to a gar- den in the suburbs of the city, where his kind host had pitched a tent for him, to relieve the tedium of confinement within the walls of Shiraz, he prosecuted the work before him uninterruptedly. " Living amidst clusters of grapes, by the side of a clear stream," as he describes it, and frequently sitting under the shade of an orange-tree, which JaflSer Ali Khan delighted to point out to visitors, he passed many a tranquil hour, and enjoyed many a Sabbath of holy rest and divine refreshment. Of one of these Sabbaths he thus writes, July 14. — "The first Sabbath morning I have had to myself this long time, and I spent it with comfort and profit. Read Isaiah chiefly; and hymns, which, as usual, brought to my remembrance the children of God in all parts of the earth ; remembered, especially, dear , as he desired me, on this his birth-day." CHAPTER IX. FIRST PUBLIC DISCUSSION AT SHIRAZ — MR. MARTYN REPLIES TO A DEFENCE OF MOHAMNTEDANISM — INTERVIEW WITH THE HEAD OF THE SOOFIES — VISITS PERSEPOLIS — TRANSLATIONS — DISCUSSIONS. The day following this happy, though solitary Sab- bath, formed a contrast to its peaceful and sacred se- 334 ME3I0IR OF renity ; being tiic day of Mr. i\Iart,yii's first public con- troversy with the Mohammedans. After some hesitation and demur, the Moojtuhid, or Professor of Mohammedan Law, consented to a discussion upon religious topics. He was a man of great consequence in Shiraz, being the last authority in the decision of all matters connected with his profession ; so that a contest with him, as it respected rank, pre- judice, popularity, and reputation for learning, was manifestly an unequal one. Mr. Martyn, however, fearlessly engaged in it, knowing in whom he had be- lieved. The subjoined is the account he has left of this dis- putation, if such indeed it can be called ; for the Pro- fessor, it seems, could not so far forget his official dig- nity as to dispute fairly and temperately ; he preferred the easier task of dogmatising magisterially. " He first ascertained from Seid Ali," says Mr. Mar- tyn, '• that I did not want demonstration, but admitted that the prophets had been sent. So, being a little easy at this assurance, he invited us to dinner. About eight o'clock at night we went, and, after passing along many an avenue, we entered a fine court, where was a pond, and, by the side of it, a platform, eight feet high, covered with carpets. Here sat the Moojtuhid in state, with a considerable number of his learned friends — among the rest, I perceived the Jew. One was at his prayers. I was never more disgusted at the mockery of this kind of prayer. He went through the evolutions with great exactness, and pretended to be unmoved at the noise and chit-chat of persons on each side of him. The Professor seated Seid Ali on his right hand, and HENRY MARTYN. 335 me on his left. Every thing around bore the appear- ance of opulence and ease, and the swarthy obesity of the little personage himself led me to suppose that he had paid more attention to cooking than to science. But when he began to speak, I saw reason enough for his being so much admired. The substance of his speech was flimsy enough ; but he spoke with uncom- mon fluency and clearness, and with a manner confi- dent and imposing. He talked for a full hour about the soul, its being distinct from the body, superior to the brutes, &c. — about God; his unity, invisibility, and other obvious and acknowledged truths. After this followed another discourse. At length, after clearing his way for miles around, he said ' that philosophers had proved that a single being could produce but a single being ; that the first thing God had created was Wisdom, a being perfectly one with him ; after that, the souls of men, and the seventh heaven ; and so on, till he produced matter, which is merely passive.' He illustrated the theory, by comparing all being to a circle ; at one extremity of the diameter is God, at the opposite extremity ofthe diameter is matter, than which nothing in the world is meaner. Rising from thence, the highest stage of matter is connected with the low- est stage of vegetation ; the highest of the vegetable world with the lowest of the animal ; and so on, till we approach the point from which all proceeded. * But,' said he, ' you will observe, that next to God, something ought to be, which is equal to God; for since it is equally near, it possesses equal dignity. What this is, philosophers are not agreed upon. You,' said he, ' say it is Christ ; but we, that it is the Spirit v33B MEMOIR or of the Prophets. All this is what the philosophers havs proved, independently of any particular religion.' I rather imagined that it was the invention of some an- cient Oriental Christian, to make the doctrine of the Trinity appear more reasonable. There were a hun- dred things in the Professor's harangue that might have been excepted against, as mere dreams supported by no evidence : but I had no inclination to call in question dogmas, on the truth or falsehood of which nothing in religion depended. " He was speaking, at one time, about the angels ; and asserted that man was superior to them ; and that no being greater than man could be created. Here the Jew reminded me of a passage in the Bible, quoting something in Hebrew. I was a little surprised, and was just about to ask, where he found any thing in the Bible to support such a doctrine ; when the Moojtuhid, not thinking it worth while to pay any attention to what the Jew said, continued his discourse. At last the Jew grew impatient, and, finding an opportunity of speaking, said to me, ' Why do you not speak? — ^ Why do not you bring forward your objections?' The Professor, at the close of one of his long speeches, said to me, ' You see how much there is to be said on these subjects ; several visits will be necessary; we must come to the point by degrees.' Perceiving how much he dreaded a close discussion, I did not mean to hurry him, but let him talk on, not expecting we should have any thing about Mohammedanism the first night. But, at the instigation of the Jew, I said, 'Sir, you see that Abdoolghunee is anxious that you should say something about Islam.' He was much HENRY MARTYX. 337 displeased at being brouglit so premaliireiy to tlic Meak point, but could not decline accepting so direct a challenge. ' Well,' said he to me, ' I must ask you a few questions. Why do you believe in Christ?' I re- plied, ' That is not the question. I am at liberty to say that I do not believe in any religion ; that I am a plain man, seeking the way of salvation; that it was, moreover, quite unnecessary to prove the truth of Christ to Mohammedans, because they allowed it.' •No such thing,' said he. ' The Jesus we acknowledge is he who was a prophet, a mere servant of God, and one who bore testimony to Mohammed ; not your Jesus, whom j^ou call God,' said he, with a contemp- tuous smile. He then enumerated the persons who had spoken of the miracles of Mohammed, and told a long story about Salmon, the Persian, who had come to Mohammed. I asked 'whether this Salmon had writ- ten an account of the miracles he had seen?' He con- fessed that he had not. ' Nor,' said I, 'have you a sin- gle witness to the miracles of Mohammed.' He then tried to show, that though they had not, there was .still sufficient evidence. 'For,' said he, 'suppose five hundred persons should say that they heard some particular thing of a hundred persons who were with Mohammed — would that be sufficient evidence or not?' ' Whether it be or not,' said I, ' you have no such evi- dence as that, nor any thing like it ; but if you have, as they are something like witnesses, we must pro- ceed to examine them, and see whether their testi- mony deserves credit.' " After this, the Koran was mentioned ; but as the company began to thin, and the great man had not a 29 coo MEMOIR Of sufficient audience before Vv'hom to display his elo- quence, the dispute was not so brisk. He did not, in- deed, seem to think it worth while to notice my ob- jections. He mentioned a well known sentence in the Koran, as being inimitable. I produced another sen- tence, and begged to know why it was inferior to the Koranic one. He declined saying why, under pre- tence that it required such a knowledge of rhetoric in order to understand his proofs, as I probably did not possess. A scholar afterwards came to Seid Ali, with twenty reasons for preferring Mohammed's sentence to mine. "It was midnight when dinner, or rather supper, was brought in : it was a sullen meal. The great man was silent ; and I was sleepy. Seid Ali, however, had not had enough. While burying his hand in the dish of the Professor, he softly mentioned some more of my objections. He was so vexed, that he scarcely an- swered any thing ; but, after supper, told a very long story, all reflecting upon me. He described a grand assembly of Christians, Jews, Guebres, and Sabians, (for they generally do us the honor of stringing us with the other three,) before Iman Ruza. The Chris- tians were, of course, defeated and silenced. It was a remark of the Iman's, in which the Professor acqui- esced, ' That it is quite useless for Mohammedans and Christians to argue together, as they had different languages and different histories.' To the last I said nothing ; but to the former replied by relating the fable of the lion and man, which amused Seid Ali so much, that he laughed out before the great man, and all the way home.'* I HENRY MARTVM. 339 So universal a spirit of inquiry had been excited in the city of Shiraz, by Mr. Martyn's frequent disputa- tions, as well as by the notoriety of his being engaged in a Translation of the New Testament into Persian, that the Preceptor of all the Moollahs began greatly to ' fear whereunto this would grow.' On the 26th of July, therefore, an Arabic defence of Mohammedanism made its appearance from his pen. A considerable time had been spent in its preparation ; and on seeing the light, it obtained the credit of surpassing all former treatises upon Islam. This work, as far as a judgment of it can be formed from a translation discovered amongst Mr. Martyn's papers, is written with much temper and moderation, and with as much candor as is consistent with that degree of subtil ty which is indispensable in an apology for so glaring an imposture as Mohammedanism. The chief Moollah begins by declaring his desire to avoid all altercation and wrangling; and expresses his hope that God would guide into the right way those whom he chose. He then endeavors, in the body of the work, to show the superiority of the single per- petual miracle of the Koran, addressed to the under- standing, above the variety of miracles wrought by Moses and by Christ, which were originally addressed only to the senses; and that these, from lapse of time, become every day less and less powerful in their in- fluence. And he concludes with the following address to Mr. Marty n : " Thus behold, then, O thou that art wise, and con- sider with the eye of justice, since thou hast no excuse to offer to God. Thou hast wished to see the truth of 340 MEMOIR OP miracles. We desire you to look at the great Koran: that is an everlasting miracle. "This was finished by Ibraheem ben al Hosyn, after the evening of the second day of the week, the 23d of the month lemadi, the second in the year 1223 of the liegira of the Prophet. On him who fled be a thousand salutations !" This work Mr. Mariyn immediately set himself to refute, in dependence on his Savior to ' give him wis- dom which his adversaries should not be able to gain- say.' His answer was divided into two parts ; the first was principally devoted to an attack on Mohamme- danism ; the second was intended to display the evi- dences and establish the authority of the Christian faith. It was written in Persian, and from a transla- tion of the first part, which has been found, we perceive that Mr. Martyn, ' having such hope, used great plain- ness of speech,' whilst at the same time he treated his opponent with meekness and courtesy. After replying to the various arguments of Mirza Ibraheem, Mr. Martyn shows why men are bound to reject Mohammedanism; that Mohammed was fore- told by no prophet ; that he worked no miracles ; that he spread his religion by means merely human, and framed his precepts and promises to gratify men's sen- suality, both here and hereafter; that he was most ambitious, both for himself and his fan7ily; that his Koran is full of gross absurdities and palpable contra- dictions ; that it contains a method of salvation wholly inefficacious, which Mr. Martyn contrasted with the glorious and efficacious way of salvation held out in HENRY MARTYN. 341 the Gospel, through the divine atonement of Jesus Christ. He concludes by addressing Mirza Ibraheem in these words : " I beg you to view these things with the eye of im- partiality. If the evidence be indeed convincing, mind not the contempt of the ignorant, nor even death itself; for the vain world is passing away like the wind of the desert. " If you do not see the evidence to be sufficient, my prayer is that God may guide you ; so that you, who have been a guide to men in the way you thought right, may now both see the truth, and call men to God through Jesus Christ, 'who hath loved us, and wash- ed us from our sins in his blood.' His glory and do- minion be everlasting!" Reverting to the Journal, we meet with the follow- ing statements illustrative of the Persian character, and descriptive of the genius of Soofeism. From these, also, we discover, that notwithstanding individuals were to be found in Shiraz who professed Mohamme- danism without having imbibed the spirit of cruelty and extermination which belongs to it, Mr. Marty u was nevertheless exposed to personal danger there, and subject to much contempt and many insults. July 29. — "Mirza Ibraheem declared publicly, before all his disciples, 'that if I really confuted his argu- ments he should be bound in conscience to become a Christian.' Alas ! from such a declaration I have little hope. His general good character for uprightness and unbounded kindness to the poor, would be a much stronger reason with me for believing that he may perhaps be a Cornelius." 29* 342 MEMOIR OF Aug. 2. — " Much against his will, Mirza Ibraheem was obliged to go to his brother, who is governor of some town, thirty-eight parasangs off. To the last mo- ment he continued talking with his nephew on" the subject of his book, and begged that, in case of his de- tention, my reply might be sent to him." Aug. 7. — '• My friends talked as usual, much about what they call Divine love ; but I do not very well comprehend what they mean. They love not the holy God, but the God of their own imagination ; a God who will let them do as they please. " I often remind Seid Ali of one defect in his sys- tem, which is, that there is no one to stand between his sins and God. Knowing what I allude to, he says, ' Well, if the death of Christ intervene, no harm ; Soofeism can admit this too.' " Aug. 14. — "Returned to the city in a fever, which continued all the next day, until the evening." Aug. 15. — ''Jani Khan, in rank corresponding to one of our Scotch dukes, as he is the head of all the military tribes of Persia, and chief of his own tribe, which consists of twenty thousand families, called on Jaffier Ali Khan, with a message from the king. He asked me a great number of questions, and disputed a little. 'I suppose,' said he, 'you consider us all as in- fidels?' 'Yes,' replied I, 'the whole of you.' He was mightily pleased with my frankness, and mentioned it when he was going away." Aug. 22. — "The copyist having shown my answer to a Moodurris, called Moollah Acber, he wrote on the margin with great acrimony, but little sense. Seid All having shown his remarks in some companies, HENRY MARTYN. 343 they begged him not to show them to me, for fear I sliould disgrace them aii through the folly of one man." Aug. 23. — " Ruza Cooli Mirza, the great grandson of Nadir Shah, and Aga Mohammed Hasan, called. The prince's nephew, hearing of my attack on Mo- hammed, obsei *'pd that 'the proper answer to it was the sword ;' but the prince confessed that he began to have his doubts. On his inquiring what were the laws of Christianity — meaning the number of times of prayer, the different washings, &c. — I said that we had two commandments, ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and all thy soul, and all thy strength ; and thy neighbor as thyself.' He asked, ' what could be better V and continued praising them. "The MooHah Aga Mohammed Hasan, himself a Moodurris, and a very sensible, candid man, asked a good deal about the European philosophy; particu larly what we did in metaphysics: — for instance, ' how, or in what sense the body of Christ ascended into heaven?' He talked of free-will and fate, and reasoned high, and at last reconciled them according to the doctrines of the Soofies, by saying, that ' as all being is an emanation of the Deity, the will of every being is only the will of the Deity ; so that, therefore, in fact, free-will and fate are the same.' He has nothing to find fault with in Christianity, except the divinity of Christ. It is this doctrine that exposes me to the contempt of the learned Mohammedans, in whom it is difficult to say whether pride or ignorance predomi- nates. Their sneers are more difficult to bear than the brickbats which the boys sometimes throw at me : however, both are an honor of which I am not worthy. 344 MEMOIR OP How many times in the day have I occasion to repeat the words, ' If on my face, for thy dear name, ' Shame aud reproaches be; 'AH hail reproach, and welcome shame, ' If thou remember me.' " The more they wish me to give up this one point — the Divinity of Clirist — the more I seem to feel the ne- cessity of It, and rejoice and glory in it. Indeed, I trust I would sooner give up my life than surrender it." The following account of an interview, to which Mr. Martyn was admitted, with the head of the sect of the Soofies, will interest those whose thoughts are turned towards the state of religion in the East : a large pro- portion of the people of Shiraz, it is computed, are either the secret or avowed disciples of Mirza Abulca- sim. Whenever 'a great and effectual door' is opened for Christianity, 'there are many adversaries.' It is otherwise with a delusion congenial to the 'desires of the flesh and of the mind' in fallen man. Such a sys- tem the god of this world is concerned to uphold ra- ther than oppose. " In the evening we went to pay a long-promised visit to Mirza Abulcasim, one of the most renowned Soofies in all Persia. We found several persons sitting in an open court, in which a few greens and flowers were placed ; the master was in a corner. He was a very fresh-looking old man, with a silver beard. I was surprised to observe the downcast and sorrowful looks of the assembly, and still more at the silence which HEXRY MARTYN. 345 reigned. After sitting some time in expectation, and being not at all disposed to waste my time in sitting there, I said softly to Seid Ali, ' What is this ?' He said, ' It is the custom here to think much and speak little.' — ' May I ask the master a question V said I. With some hesitation he consented to let me : so I begged Jaffier Ali to inquire, ' Which is the way to be happy?' '• This he did in his own manner: he began by ob- serving that ' there was a great deal of misery in the world, and that the learned shared as largely in it as the rest ; that I wished, therefore, to know what we must do to escape it.' The master replied, that, ' for his part, he did not know, but that it was usually said that the subjugation of the passions was the shortest way to happiness.' " After a considerable pause, I ventured to ask ' what were his feelings in the prospect of death — hope or fear, or neither?' — 'Neither,' said he, and that 'plea- sure and pain were both alike.' I then perceived that the stoics were Greek Soofies. I asked ' whether he had attained this apathy?' He said, 'No.' 'Why do you think it attainable?' He could not tell. 'Why do you think that pleasure and pain are not the same ?' said Seid Ali, taking his master's part. ' Because,' said I, ' I have the evidence of my senses for it. And you also act as if there was a difference. W^hy do you eat, but that you fear pain ?' These silent sages sat unmoved. " One of the disciples is the son of the Moojtuhid, who, greatly to the vexation of his father, is entirely devoted to the Soofie doctor. He attended his eaieaji 346 MEMOIR OP with the utmost humility. On observing the pensive countenance of the young man, and k. owing some- thing of his history from Seid Ali, how he had left all to find happiness in the contempialion of G'od, I longed to make known the glad tidings of a Savior, and thank- ed God, on coming away, that I was not hft ignorant of the Gospel. I could not help being a liti'e pleasant on Seid Ali, afterwards, for his admiration of this si- lent instructor. ' There you sit,' said I, ' immersed in thought, full of anxiety and care, and will not take the trouble to ask whether God has said any thing or not. No : that is too easy and direct a way of coming at the truth. I compare you to spiders, who weave their house of defence out of their own bowels ; or to a set of people who are groping for a light in broad day.' " Mr. Martyn's mathematical acquirements were to him invaluable, inasmuch as they gave him that habit of patient and persevering study, which was sanctified in the application of his powers to the highest ends and purposes. There were also occasions in which this and other sciences were of service to the cause he had at heart, by procuring for him that attention and respect which learning ever secures in countries where the light of civilization shines, even though but faintly and imperfectly. Of this we have an instance in the following account. Aug. 26. — " Waited this morning on Mohammed Nubee Khan, late ambassador at Calcutta, and now prime minister of Fars. There were a vast number of clients in his court, with whom he transacted business while chatting with us. Amongst the others who HENRY MARTYN. 347 came and sat with us, was my tetric adversary, Aga Acber, who came for the very purpose of presenting the minister with a little book: he had written in an- swer to mine. After presenting it in due form, he sat down, and told me he meant to bring me a copy that day; a promise which he did not perform, through Seid All's persuasion, who told him it was a perform- ance that would do him no credit. Aga Acber gave me a hint respecting Us contents, namely, that there were four answers to my objections to Mohammedans using the sword. " He then, without any ceremony, began to question me, before the company, (there were more than fifty in the hall, and crowds in front, all listening,) about the European philosophy; and brought objections against the world's motion, with as much spleen as if he had an estate which he was afraid would run away from him. As it was a visit of mere ceremony, I was not a little surprised, and looked at the minister, to know if it would not be a breach of good manners to dispute at such a time ; but it seemed there was nothing contrary to custom, as he rather expected my answer. I explained our system to Aga Acbar ; but there were many things not to be understood without diagrams; so a scribe in waiting was ordered to produce his im- plements, and I was obliged to show him, first, the sections of the cone, and how a body revolves in an el- lipse round the sun in one focus, &c. He knew no- thing of mathematics, as I suspected, so it was soon found useless to proceed ; he comprehended nothing. " On my return, Jaffier Ali Khan and Mirza Seid Ali requested me to explain to them my proofs. I 348 MEMOIR OF did my best; but there were so many things they were obliged to lake for granted, that all my endea- vors were to little purpose. So much Mirza Seid All comprehended, that the hypothesis of a force varying inversely as the square of the distance, was sufficient to account for every phenomenon ; and that therefore, according to the rules of philosophy, a more complex liypothesis was not to be admitted. This he had sense enough to see." There is something so estimable in the character of Mr. Martyn's opponent, Mirza Ibraheem, that it will not fail to secure the attention of the reader, in perus- ing the subjoined relation of the effect produced on his mind by Mr. Martyn's defence of Christianity and at- tack upon Mohammedanism. Aug. 29. — " Mirza Ibraheem begins to inquire about the Gospel. Tlie objections he made were such as these : How sins could be atoned for before they were committed ? "Whether, as Jesus died for all men, all would necessarily be saved ? If faith be the condition of salvation, would wicked Christians be saved, pro- vided they believe ? I was pleased to see, from the nature of the objections, that he was considering the subject. To this last objection I remarked that to those who felt themselves sinners, and came to God for mercy, through Christ, God would give his Holy Spirit, which would progressively sanctify them in heart and life." Aug. 30.—" Mirza Ibraheem praises my answer, es- pecially the first part." ,Mr. Martyn's mind, we have had frequent occasion HENRY MARTYN. 349 to notice, closed as it was against trifling vanities, was ever open and alive to many of those subjects which arrest the attention and interest the curiosity of men of science and research, and which form one great source of intellectual gratification. Whilst the moral depravity of Sliiraz chiefly occupied his thoughts and excited his commiseration, he could also find a mournful pleasure in musing over the fallen grandeur of Persepolis. He has left the following observations and reflec- tions, on visiting these celebrated remains of antiquity : '* I procured two horsemen, as guards, from the mi- nister, and set off" about two hours before sunset. At a station of Rahdars we fed the horses, and then conti- nued our course, through a most dismal country, till midnight, when we entered a vast plain, and, two or three hours before day, crossed the Araxes, by a bridge of three arches, and, coming in sight of the ruins, waited for the day. I laid down upon the bare ground, but it was too cold to sleep. " When the sun rose, we entered. My guards and servant had not the smallest curiosity to see ruins, and therefore the moment they mounted the terrace they laid down and fell asleep. These people cannot ima- gine why the Europeans come to see these ruins. One of them said to me, 'A nice place, Sahib; good air and a fine garden; you may carry brandy, and drink there at leisure.' Thus he united, as he thought, the two ingredients of human happiness — the Euro- pean enjoyment of drinking, and the Persian one of straight walks, cypress trees, and muddy water in a square cistern. One of my guards was continually re- 30 350 MEMOIR OF minding me, on my way thither, that it was uninha- bited. Finding me still persist, he imagined that my object must be to do something in secret; and accord- ingly, after I had satisfied my curiosity, and was com- ing away, he plainly asked me whether I had been drinking — observing, perhaps, my eyes, which were red with cold and want of sleep. When I gravely told them that drunkenness was as great a sin with us as with them, they altered their tone, and said that wine was not only unlawful, but odious and filthy. " After traversing these celebrated ruins, I must say that I felt a little disappointed; they did not at all answer my expectation. The architecture of the an- cient Persians seems to be much more akin to that of their clumsy neighbors the Indians, than to that of the Greeks. I saw no appearance of grand design any where. The chapiters of the columns were almost as long as the shafts— though they are not so represent- ed in Niebuhr's plate ; — and the mean little passages into the square court, or room, or whatever it was, make it very evident that the taste of the Orientals was the same three thousand years ago as it is now. " But it was impossible not to recollect that here Alexander and his Greeks passed and repassed — here ihej'- sat, and sung, and revelled : now all is silence — generation on generation lie mingled with the dust of their moldering edifices : ' Alike the busy and the gay, ' But flutter in life's busy day, ' In fortune's varying colors drest.* " From the ruins I rode off to a neighboring village, the head-man of which, at the minister's order, paid HENRY MARTYN. 351 me every attention. At sunset we set out on our re- turn, and lost our way. As I particularly remarked where we entered the plains, I pointed out the track which afterwards proved to be right ; but my opinion was overruled, and we galloped further and further away. Meeting, at last, with some villagers, who were passing the night at their threshing-floor in the field, we were set right. They then conceived so high an idea of my geographical skill, that, as soon as we re- crossed the Araxes, they begged me to point out the Keblah to them, as they wanted to pray. After set- ting their faces towards Mecca, as nearly as I could, I went and sat down on the margin near the bridge, where the water, falling over some fragments of the bridge under the arches, produced a roar, which, con- trasted with the stillness all around, had a grand effect. Here I thought again of the multitudes who had once pursued their labors and pleasures on its banks. Twen- ty-one centuries have passed away since they lived: how short, in comparison, must be the remainder of my days ! What a momentary duration is the life of man ! Labitiir et labeliir in omne voluhilis cevitvi* may be affirmed of the river ; but men pass away as soon as they begin to exist. Well, let the moments pass — • They'll waft us sooner o'er ' This life's tempestuous sea, ♦ And land us on the peaceful shore 'Of blest Eternity.' " The Mohammedans having finished their prayers, I mounted my horse and pursued my way over the *It flows, and will continue to flow for ever. 352 MEMOIR OF plain. We arrived at the station of the Rahdars so early, that we should have been at Shiraz before the gates were opened, so we halted. I put my head into a poor corner of the caravansera, and slept soundly upon the hard stone, till the rising sun bid us continue our course. " One of my guards was a pensive, romantic sort of a man, as far as eastern men can be romantic ; that is, he is constantly reciting love-verses. He often broke a long silence by a sudden question of this sort : ' Sir. what is the chief good of life ?' I replied, ' The love of God.' ' What next V ' The love of man.' * That is,' said he, ' to have men love us, or to love them V ' To love them.' He did not seem to agree with me. Anoth- er time he asked, 'Who were the worst people in the world ?' I said, ' Those who know their duty, and do not practice it.' At the house where I was en- tertained, they asked me the question which the Lord once asked, ' What think ye of Christ V I generally tell them at first, what they expect to hear, 'The Son of God ;' but this time I said, 'The same as you say, the Word of God.' ' Was he a prophet ?' ' Yes, in some sense, he was a prophet ; but, what it chiefly concerns us to know, he was an atonement for the sins of men.' Not understanding this, they made no reply. They next asked, ' What did I think of the soul? was it out of the body, or in. the body ?' I supposed the latter. ' No,' they said, ' it is neither the one nor the other ; but next to it, and the mover of the body.' " The details Mr. Martyn gives of the fast of Rama- zan, which he witnessed on his return to Shiraz, whilst HENRY MARTYN. 353 they show that he was far from being an inobservant spectator of wliat was passing around liim, afford a striking view of the interior of 3Iohammedanism. We plainly discover from them, that a love for particular popular preachers, a fiery zeal in religion, a vehement excitation of animal feelings, as well as rigid austeri- ties, are false criterions of genuine piety ; for we see all these in their full perfection amongst the real fol- lowers of the Crescent, as well as amongst the pre- tended disciples of the Cross. Sept. 20.—" First day of the fast of Ramazan. All the family have been np in the night, to take an un- seasonable meal, in order to fortify themselves for the abstinence of the day. It was curious to observe the effects of the fast in the house. The master was scold- ing and beating his servants ; they equally peevish and insolent ; and the beggars more than ordinarily importunate and clamorous. At noon, all the city went to the grand mosque. My host came back with an account of new vexations there. He was chatting with a friend, near the door, when a great preacher, Hagi Mirza, arrived, with hundreds of followers. ' Why do you not say your prayers V said tlie new comers to the two friends. ' We have finished,' said they. 'Well.' said the other, 'if you cannot pray a second time with us, you had better move out of the way.' Rather than join such turbulent zealots, they retired. The reason of this unceremonious address was, that these loving disciples had a desire to pray all in a row with their master, which, it seems, is the cus- tom. There is no public service in the mosque; e^'ery man there prays for himself. 30* 354 MEMOIR OF "Coming out of the mosque, some servants of the Prince, for their amusement, pushed a person against a poor man's stall, on which were some things for sale, a few European and Indian articles, also some valuable Warsaw plates, which were thrown down and broken. The servants went off without making compensation. No Cazi will hear a complaint against the Prince's servants. "Hagi Mohammed Hasan preaches every day dur- ing the Ramazan. He takes a verse from the Koran, or more frequently tells stories about the Imans. If the ritual of the Christian churches, their good forms, and every thing they have, is a mere shadow, without the power of truth ; what must all this Mohammedan stuff be? and yet how impossible is it to convince the people of the world, whether Christian or Mohamme- dan, that what they call religion, is merely a thing of their own, having no connexion with God and his kingdom. This subject has been much on my mind of late. How senseless the zeal of churchmen against dissenters, and of dissenters against the church ! The kingdom of God is neither meat nor drink, nor any thing perishable; but righteousness and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. "Mizra Ibraheem never goes to the mosque; but he is so much respected, that nothing is said : they con- clude that he is employed in devotion at home. Some of his disciples said to Seid Ali, before him, 'Now the Ramazan is come, you should read the Koran and leave the Gospel.' 'No,' said his uncle, 'he is em- ployed in a good work; let him go on with it.' The old man continues to inquire with interest about the HENRY MARTYN. 355 Gospel, and is impatient for his nephew to explain the evidences of Christianity, which I have drawn up." Sept. 22. — Sunday. — "My friends returned from the mosque full of indignation at what they had wit- nessed there. The former governor of Bushire com- plained to the vizier, in the mosque, that some of his servants had treated him brutally. The vizier, instead of attending to his complaint, ordered them to do their work a second time; which they did, kicking and beating him with their slippers, in the most ignomi- nious way, before all the mosque. This unhappy peo- ple groan under the tyranny of their governors; yet nothing subdues or tames them. Happy Europe ! how has God favored the sons of Japheth, by causing them to embrace the Gospel ! How dignified are all the nations of Europe compared with this nation I Yet the people are clever and intelligent, and more calcu- lated to become great and powerful than any of the nations of the East, had they a good government and the Christian religion." Sept. 29. — "The Soofie, son of the Moojtuhid, with some others, came to see me. For fifteen years he was a devout Mohammedan, visited the sacred places, and said many prayers. Finding no benefit from austeri- ties, he threw up the Mohammedanism altogether, and attadied himself to the Soofie master. "I asked him what his object was all that time? He said ' he did not know, but he was unhappy.' I be- gan to explain to him the Gospel ; but he cavilled at it as much as any bigoted Mohammedan could do, and would not hear of there being any distinction between 356 MEMOIR OP Creator and creature. In the midst of our conversa- tion the sun went down, and the company vanished, for the purpose of taking an immediate repast. " Aga Baba was also for many years a zealous Mo- hammedan, often passing whole nights in prayer. His father, who had at first encouraged his religious propensities, found them at last so troublesome, that he was obliged to leave the house, not being able to get sleep for the noise his son made in prayer. Finding, after many years, that he was growing more and more proud and contemptuous, he could ascribe it to no- thing but his prayers, and therefore, from purely con- scientious motives, left them off. " JafRer Ali Khan was also once a great sayer of prayers, and regularly passed every afternoon, for four- teen years, in cursing the worshippers of Omar, accord- ing to the prescribed form ; but perceiving that these zealous maledictions brought no blessing to himself, he left them off, and now just prays for form's sake. His wife says her prayers regularly five times a day, and is always up before sunrise for the first prayer. " Mirza Seid Ali seems sometimes coming round to Christianity against Soofeism. The Soofies believe in no prophet, and do not consider Moses to be equal to Mirza Abulcasim. ' Could they be brought,' Seid Ali says, ' to believe that there has been a prophet, they would embrace Christianity.' And what would be gain- ed by such converts ? ' Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power.' It will be ' an afflicted and poor people' that shall call upon the name of the Lord, and such the Soofies are not: professing themselves to be wise, they have become fools." HENRY MARTYN- 357 Oct. 1. — " Thousands every day assemble at the mosque; it is quite a lounge with them. Each, as soon as he has said his prayers, sits down and talks to his friend. The multitude press to hear Hagi Mohammed Hasan. One day they thronged him so much that he made some error in his prostrations. This put him into such a passion, that he wished that Omar's curse might come upon him if he preached to them again. How- ever, a day or two after, he thought better of it. This preacher is famous for letting out his money for inte- rest ; and therefore, in spite of his eloquence, he is not very popular. About two years ago, Shekh Jaffier came here and preached — ^ The Persians are all murderers ! adulterers !' — 'What does the Shekh mean?' said his followers. ' Why,' said he, ' the Persians take usury ; and he that does that, is worse than a murderer or adulterer.' " Oct. 7. — " I was surprised by a visit from the great Soofie doctor, who, while most of the people were asleep, came to me for some wine. I plied him with questions innumerable ; but he returned nothing but incoherent answers, and sometimes no answer at all. Having laid aside his turban, he put on his night-cap, and soon fell asleep upon the carpet. Whilst he lay there his disciples came, but v/ould not believe, when I told them who was there, till they came and saw the sage asleep. When he awoke, they came in, and seat- ed themselves at the greatest possible distance, and were all as still as if in a church. " The real state of this man seems to be despair, and It is well if it do not end in madness. I preached to him' the kingdom of God : mentioning particularly 358 MEMOIR OF how I had found pnace from the Son of God and the Spirit of God : through the first, forgiveness ; tlirough the second, sanctification. He said it was good, but said it with the same unconcern with which he admits all manner of things, however contradictory. Poor soul ! he is sadly bewildered. " At a garden, called Shah Chiragh, in which is the tomb of the brother of one of the Imans, who was kill- ed on the spot, a miracle is wrought every Ramazan. The Mootuwulli, or proprietor of the garden, in whose family it has been for ages, finds its supposed sanctity abundantly profitable, as he is said to make two thou- sand pounds a-year of it. To keep alive the zeal of the people, who ma^^e their ofl'orings there every day, he procures a villager, who is at first sick, and crying to Ali for help ; and then, on the appointed day, recovers. This year a man was recovered of the palsy, and our servants came in quite full of it. Though this farce is played off every year, the simpletons are never unde- ceived. Presents of sheep, fowls, sweetmeats, money, flowed in upon the Mootuwulli, who skillfully turned all to the best advantage. Those who wished to see the man's face, were to pay so much; tliose who were anxious to touch him, were to pay so much more; and so on. " On two days in the Ramazan, tragedies were acted at our house, in the women's court. Two or three men, dressed in the Khan's court robes, spouted and sung for an hour, before an immense concourse of women, all veiled. The subject, on the first day, was the death of Mohammed; on the second, that of Iman Hosyn." Oct. 18. — " The Ramazan ended, or ought to have HENKY MARTYN. 359 ended, but the moon disappointed them. The Moollahs not having seen the new moon, would not allow the fast to be over, and the people were, in consequence, all in confusion ; for not having eaten in the night, they were not at all disposed to go through the day- fasting. At last some witnesses appeared, who vowed that they had seen the silver bov/. These were from the Prince; but the Moollahs refused to admit them till seventy-two of the same kind bore the same testi- mony. This was no great number for a prince to pro- duce ; so the seventy-two appeared, and the feast was proclaimed." Towards the end of November, great progress hav- ing been made in the Persian translation of the New Testament, Mr. Marty n ordered two splendid copies of it to be prepared, designing to present the one to the King of Persia, and the other to the Prince Abbas Mirza, his son. It being now also his fixed intention to pass the winter at Shiraz, he resolved to commence another eminently useful, and, to him, most delightful work — a version of the Psalms of David into Persian, from the original Hebrew. The divine Songs of Zion became thus the subject of his critical examination, close meditation, and frequent prayer ; and whilst en- gaged in this sacred employment, often did he find his soul elevated and his spirit refreshed in a " strange land." The events of the last month of the year stand thus recorded in his Journal : Dec. 3. — " Attended the lecture of Aga Mohammed Hasan. He read and commented on three books of 360 MEMOIR OF metaphysics, and at intervals conversed with me. Among other things, we discussed the cause of the as- cent of a light body in a fluid. Our argument came at last to this — that if one particle of fluid were on ano- ther, it would, from its gravity, move ever horizontally off, in order to be nearer the centre. ' If,' said he, ' a body can move toward the centre only directly, how do you account for its falling down an inclined plane?' I began to explain the composition and resolution of forces ; but some disciples coming, he could not stay to hear what I had to say, but went on with his lec- ture. At one time he asked me some questions about genera and species." Dec. 6. — " Aga Boozorg and his disciple, Aga Ali, a Mede, came and sat many hours. The former, from love to the Gospel, as he said, had desired a friend at Isfahan to send him Luke's Gospel, translated from the Arabic. He asked me about the Trinity, and said that, ' for himself, he had no objection to the doctrine.' So say all the Soofies, but they will only concede to Jesus a nature which they conceive to belong to all the prophets, and all the illuminated. He stated his sentiments; I asked for reasons, but asked in vain. ' Proofs,' he said, ' were cobwebs — a breath destroyed them : nothing but a divine teacher could make known the mystery.' Aga Ali, in order to prove to me that proofs were nothing, adduced the instance of Matthew the publican, who rose at the call of Christ, without seeing a miracle. They are fond of producing what they know of the Gospel, in confirmation of their mys- tic themes. The atonement they would not hear of, because the Mohammedans pretended, in the same HENRY MaRTYN. 361 VT^y, that Hosyn was sacrificed for the sins of men. Thus Satan has contrived Mohammedanism with more traft than at first appears ; for the impostor of Mecca, ^y making common cause with the prophets of God, has taken care, that if any forsake him, they shall at the same time forsake the messengers of God ; of whon? they know nothing but just what he tells ihem^-whiclj is far enough from the truth." Dec. 8. — " The Soofies breakfasted with me. Aga Boozorg talked dogmatically about the unity of all being, and quoted large portions from the Munari of Mouluwee Room. Another part of the conversation was about India. The Soofies con^der all the Brah- mins as philosophers of the same school with them- selves. One of them asked me gravely, ' whether 1 had met with any in whom was the Floly Ghost?' This, he supposed, was the only way of expressing what they meant by being enhghtened." Dec. 12.—" Letters, at last, from India. Mirza Seid All was curious to know in v/hat way we correspond- ed, and made me read Mr. Brown's letter to me, and mine to Corrie. He took care to let his friends know that we wrote nothing about our own affairs : it was all about translations, and the cause of Christ : with this he was delighted." Dec. 16.— "In translating 2 Cor. 1:22, 'Who hath given the earnest of the Spirit in our hearts,' he was much struck when it was explained to him. ' O that I had it,' said he ; ' have you received it ?^ I told him that as I had no doubt of my acceptance through Christ, I concluded that I had. Once before, on the words, * Who are saved,' he expressed his surprise at the coiv- 31 362 MEMOIR OF fidence with which Christians spoke of salvation. On 1 Cor. 11, he observed that the doctrine of the resur- rection of the body was unreasonable ; but that as the Mohammedans understood it, it was impossible ; on which account the Soofies rejected it." Christmas-day. — " I made a great feast for the Rus- sians and Armenians; and, at Jaffier Ali Khan's re- quest, invited the Soofie master, with his disciples. I hoped there would be some conversation on the occa- sion of our meeting, and indeed Mirza Seid Ali did make some attempts, and explained to the old man the meaning of the Lord's supper ; but the sage maintain- ing his usual silence, the subject was dropped. '' I expressed my satisfaction at seemg them assem- bled on such an occasion, and my hope that they would remember the day in succeeding years ; and that, though they would never see me again in the succeeding years, they would not forget that I had brought them the Gospel. The old man coldly replied that ' God would guide those whom he chose.' Most of the time they continued was before dinner ; the mo- ment that was despatched, they rose up and went away. The custom is, to sit five or six hours before dinner ; and at great men's houses singers attend." Dec. 27. — " Carapet invited me this evening to his wedding; but, just before the guests were to have as- sembled, the Darogha's servants seized his father-in- law and carried him av.-ay to be bastinadoed, or else to pay five hundred piasters. It seems he had given a bond to that amount, never to sell wine to Mohamme- dans; and yesterday he was detected in the act. Jaf- fier Ali Khav wrote, in my name, to the Vizier, to re- HENRY MARTYN. 363 quest his release. The Vizier replied that Carapet, for my sake, should not be molested ; but that the other man had forfeited his money, and, in evidence, sent his bond. Finding that it was not a piece of villany on the part of the government, as I had apprehended, I declined having any thing to do in the business; the law might take its course. But Jaffier Ali Khan beg- ged as a favor, of the servant of the Vizier^ wiio had formerly been a servant of his, to represent the mat- ter in such a light to his master as to excite his com- passion. After he was gone away, the Armenians came in great numbers, and begged I would procure the pardon of the poor man ; and had obtained a promise from me to this effect; when the servant came back with the poor Greek, and said that the Vizier had re- leased him, and forgiven him the forfeit, for my sake. The Armenians were in ecstacies of joy, and did not know how enough to express their gratitude to me, though it was rather due to Jaffier Ali Khan. I was unable to attend the wedding, from a cough, which made it unsafe to be out at niglit. They sat up all night, according to the Armenian custom, eating and drinking; and about two hours before day. went to church, where the marriage was solemnized. The feasting continues two days longer. " On the strength of the narrow escape the Greek had experienced, some of the Vizier's servants came, the day after, to feast themselves at his expense. They first called for a calean, which was brought them ; then for the wine he had promised them, though he had promised none. This unfortunate people have been visited almost like the Jews. When will the Lord pity 364 MEi^IOIR 07 ihem ? An Armenian, if he gets a new coat, makes liie sleeves of patches, as he will be sure to have it taken from him if it looks new. Carapet was insulted for being a little better dressed than they thought a Cliristian ought to be.'^ Dec. 31. — '"The accounts of the desolations of war during the last year, which I have been reading m some Indian newspapers, make the world appear more gloomy than ever. How many souls hurried into eternity unprepared L How many thousands of widows and orphans left to mourn L But admire, my soul, the matchless power of God, that out of this ruin he has prepared for himself an inheritance. At last the scene shall change, and I shall find myself in a world where all is love." The early part of the year 1812, that year in which Mr. Martyn "rested from his labors," and "found himself in a world where all was love," was ushered in by him in the following strain of singular pathos and piety : "The last has been, in some respects, a memorable year. I liave been led, by what I have reason to con- sider as the particular providence of God, to this place, and have undertaken an important work, which has gone on without material interruption, and is now nearly finished. I like to find myself employed use- fully, in a way X did not expect or foresee, especially if my own will is in any degree crossed by the work unexpectedly assigned me; as there is then reason to believe that God is acting. The present year will pro hably be a perilous one j but my life is of little conse- HENRY MARTYN. 365 quence, whether I live to finish the Persian New Testament, or do not. I look back with pity and shame upon my former self, and on the miportance I then attached to my life and labors. The more I see of my own works, the more I am ashamed of them. Coarse- ness and clumsiness mai' all the works of man. I am sick, when I look at man, and his wisdom, and his doings ; and am relieved only by reflecting that we liave a city whose builder and maker is God. The lea^t of His works it is refreshing to look at. A dried leaf, or a straw, makes me feel myself in good compa- ny : complacency and admiration take place of disgust. " I compared, with pain, our Persian translation with the original ; to say nothing of the precision and elegance of the sacred text, its perspicuity is that M'hich sets at defiance all attempts to equal it." In the succeeding portion of Mr. Martyn's Journal, we are presented with a statement, from which it is scarcely possible not to infer that the civil government of Persia is in a condition of extreme weakness and wretchedness. Jan. 15.—" I went with Jaffier Ali Khan to se3 the College. It is almost in ruins, not having been repair- ed these two hundred years. It contains sixty or seventy sets of rooms, in many of which we observed teachers and scholars giving and hearing lectures. It was formerly richly endowed ; but the rapacity of the kings has stripped it of every thing; only a small sti- pend is now allowed to the principal teachers. Near it is an octagonal caravansera, where goods were for- merly exposed to sale, and a tax levied, which was ap- 31* 366 MEMOIR or propriated to the College; but this is nearly gone. The best way of laying out money at this time is to build a caravansera, for merchants to lodge their goods in, and expose them to sale. In this way they make about fifteen per cent. ; but these warehouses are heavily taxed by government. " We called on several people ; among the rest, on Mirza Abulcasim Kalantar, a man of large landed pro- perty, who was very courteous. Conversation, as usual, about the happiness of India and England. " We called on Aga Boozorg, an old man of ninety, whose house, or rather college, is a kind of asylum : for he is so venerated, that even the Vizier dare not drag an offender thence. A poor ragged fellow came while we were there, and said that the Vizier had sent him. ' Go and tell the Vizier,' said he, ' to knock his head agahist the pavement, and not send such messen- gers to me.' " A poor blind man whom we met begging, the Khan pointed out to me, as one who formerly was a general, and one of Kureen Khan's family ; but, by a change of dynasty, had lost his eyes. Nobody took any notice of him." Who can read some of the ensuing remarks without discovering how abundantly those words of our Savior were verified in Mr. Martyn ? " neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word : that they all may be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us, that the world may believe that thou hast sent me." John, 17 : 20, 21. HENRY MARTYN. 367 Jan. 16. — " Mirza Seid Ali lold me accidentally, to- day, of a distich made by his friend Mirza Koochut, at Teheran, in honor of a victory obtained by Prince Ab- bas Mirza over the Russians. The sentiment was, thai he had killed so many of the Christians, that Christ, from the fourth heaven, took hold of Mohammed's skirt to entreat him to desist. I was cut to the soul at this blasphemy. In prayer I could think of nothing else but that great day, when the Son of God shall come in the clouds of heaven, taking vengeance on them that know not God, and convincing men of all their hard speeches which they have spoken against him. " Mirza Seid Ali perceived that I was considerably disordered, and was sorry for having repeated the verse ; but asked what it was that was so offensive? I told him that ' I could not endure existence if Jesus was not glorified ; it would be hell to me, if he were to be always thus dishonored-' He was astonished, and again asked, why ? ' If any one pluck out your eyes,' I replied, ' there is no saying why you feel pain — it is feeling. It is because I am one with Christ that I am thus dreadfully wounded." On his again apologizing, I told him that ' I rejoiced at what had happened, in- asmuch as it made me feel nearer the Lord than ever. It is when the head or heart is struck, that every mem- ber feels its membership.' This conversation took place while we were translating. In the evening, he men- tioned the circumstance of a young man's being mur- dered, a fine athletic youth, whom I had often seen in the garden. Some acquaintance of his, in a slight quar- rel, had plunged a dagger in his breast. Observing rae dbO MEMOIR OF look sorrowful, he asked why. ' Because,' said I, 'he was cut off in his sins, and had no time to repent.' ' It is just in that way,' said he, ' that I should like to die; not dragging out a miserable existence on a sick bed, but transported at once into another state.' I observed that ' It was not desirable to be hurried into the imme- diate presence of God.' — ' Do you think,' said he, 'that there is any difference between the presence of God here or there V — ' Indeed, I do,' said I. ' Here we see through a glass, darkly ; but there, face to face.' He then entered into some metaphysical Soofie disputa- tion about the identity of sin and holiness, heaven and hell ; to all which I made no reply." The subjoined conversation, into which Mr. Marty n was led, exhibits the ignorance of the natural man, and the knowledge of the spiritual man, in striking contrast. Jan. 18. — " Aga Ali, of Media, canie, and with him and Mirza Ali I had a long and warm discussion about the essentials of Christianity. The Mede seeing us at work upon the Epistles, said ' he should be glad to read them ; as for the Gospels, they were nothing but tales, which were of no use to him ; for instance,' said he, 'if Christ raised four hundred dead to life, what is that to me V I said, ' It certainly was of importance, for his works were a reason for our depending upon his words.' ' What did he say,' asked he, ' that was not known before? the love of God— humility ; who does not know these things? 'Were these things,' said I, ' known before Christ, either among Greeks or Romans, with all their philosophy?' They averred that the Hindoo book Juh contained precepts of this HENRY MARTYN. 3G9 Kind. I questioned its antiquity ; ' but, however thai may be,' I added, ' Christ came not to teach^ so much as to die ; the truths I spoke of, as confirmed by his miracles, were those relating to his person ; such as, 'Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' Here Mirza Seid Ali told him that I had professed to have no doubt of my sal- vation. He asked what I meant? I told him ' that though sin still remamed, I was assured that it should not regain dominion ; and that I should never come into condemnation, but was accepted in the beloved.' Not a little surprised, he asked Mirza Seid Ali whether he comprehended this? 'No,' said he, 'nor Mirza Ibraheem, to whom I mentioned it.' The Mede again turning to me, asked, 'how do you know this? how do you know you have experienced the second birth ?' ' Because,' said I, ' we have the Spirit of the Father ; what he wishes, we wish ; what he hates, we hate.' Here he began to be a little more calm and less contentious, and mildly asked how I had obtained this peace of mind ; ' was it merely those books V said he, taking up some of our sheets. I told him, 'These books, with prayer.' 'What was the beginning of it,' said he ; ' the society of some friends?' I related to him my religious history, the substance of which was, that I took my Bible before God, in prayer, and prayed for forgiveness through Christ, assurance of it through his Spirit, and grace to obey his commandments. They then both asked whether the same benefit would be conferred on them ? 'Yes,' I replied, ' I bring you this message from God, that he who, despairing of himself, rests for righteous- 370 MEMOIR OP ness on the Son of God, shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost ; and to this I can add my testimony, if that be worth any thing, that I have found the promise fulfilled in myself. 'What! would you have me be- lieve,' said he, ' as a child ?' ' Yes,' said I. ' True,' said he, 'I think that is the only way.' Aga Ali said no more, but ' Certainly he is a good man !' " Shortly after this discussion, Mr. Martyn states him- self to have attended a public exhibition of a religious kind. The reason why he did not repeat his atten- dance, whetiier well grounded or not. is at least a proof that patriotic feelings in his mind were not ex- tinguished by Christianity. Jan. 23. — " Put on my English dress, and went to the Vizier's to see part of the tragedy of Hosyn's death, which they contrive to spin out so as to make it last the first ten days of the Mohurrin. All the apparatus consisted of a few boards for a stage, two tables, and a pulpit, under an immense awning, in the court where the company were assembled. The dramatis personcB were two ; the daughter of Hosyn, whose part was performed by a boy, and a messenger ; they both read their parts. Every now and then loud sobs were heard all over the court. After this, several feats of activity were exhibited before the altar, where the Vi- zier sat with the Moollahs. I was appointed to a seat, where, indeed, I saw as much as I wanted, but which, I afterwards perceived, was not the place of honor. As I trust I am far enough from desiring the chief seats in the synagogues, there was nothing in this that could offend me ;• but I do not thinlv it right to let him have another opportunity of showing a slight to my country in my person." HENRY MARTYN. 371 Those who know not what it is to pass a dreary sea- son of long seclusion from Cliristian society, sur- rounded by those wlio are immersed in all wicked- ness, can form but an inadequate idea of the sacrifices to which Mr. Martyn submitted, in continuing so great a length of time at Shiraz : yet we may in some mea- sure see what he endured, from the expression of sen- timents such as these : Feb. 2. — " From what I suffer in this city, I can un- derstand the feelings of Lot. The face of the poor Russian appears to me like the face of an angel, be- cause he does not tell lies. Heaven will be heaven, be- cause there will not be one liar there. The word oi God is miore precious to me at this time than I ever re- member it to have been ; and of all the promises in it, none is more sweet to me than this — 'He shall reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet.'" Feb. 3.— "A packet arrived from India without a single letter for me. It was some disappointment to nie ; but let me be satisfied with my God, and if I cannot have the comfort of hearing from my friends, let me return with thankfulness to his word, which is a treasure of which none envy me the possession, and ^vhere I can find what will more than compensate for the loss of earthly enjoyments. Resignation to the will of God is a lesson which I must learn, and which I trust he is teaching me." What an influence a departure from the 'precepts of the Gospel has upon the determination of the judg- ment with respect to its doctrines, appears from the representation Mr. Martyn gives of the conduct of Mirza Seid Ali at this period. 372 MEMOIU OP Feb. 4.—'' Mirza Seid Ali, who has been enjoying himself in dissipation and idleness these two days, re* turned full of evil and opposition to the Gospel. '•Alluding to some remarks he had made, 'I sup- pose,' said he, ' you think it is sinful to sport with the cliaracters of holy men.' 'I have no objection,' I re* plied, ' to hear your sentiments ; but I cannot bear to hear any thing spoken disrespectfully of the Lord Je- sus ; and yet there is not one of your Soofies but has said something against him.' 'You never heard me speak lightly of Jesus,' he replied. 'No, there is some- thing so awfully pure about him, that nothing can be said.'" '• Recovering somewhat of a more serious spirit, Seid x\li joined with Aga Boozorg, whom Mr. Martyn describes as one of the most magisterial of the Soofies, in a conversation in which a real desire for religious information seems to have been indicated. The day on which it took place was almost entirely consumed in discussions with a variety of visitors, respecting the Scriptures; it concluded with a very pleasing confes- sion on the part of Seid Ali. Feb. 9.—" Aga Boozorg came. After much conver- sation, he said, ' Prove to me, from the beginning, that Christianity is the way: how will you proceed? what do you say must be done ?' ''If you would not believe a person who wrought a miracle before you,' said J, ' I have nothing to say 5 I cannot proceed a step.' ' I will grant you,' said Seid Ali, ' that Christ was the Son of God, and more than that.' 'That you despair of yourself, and are willing to trust in him alone for salvation?' 'Yes.' 'And are ready to confess Christ HENRY MARTY??, 373 before men, and act conformably to his word?' ' Yes : what else must I do?' 'Be baptized in the name of Christ.' 'And what shall I gain?' 'The gift of the Holy Ghost. The end of faith is salvation in the world to come; but even here yon shall have the Spirit to purify your heart, and to give you the assurance of everlasting happiness*' Thus Aga Boozorg had the o()^ portunity of hearing those strange things from my own mouth, of which he had been told by his disciple the Mede. 'You can say, too,' said he, 'that you have received the Spirit ?' I told them I believed I had j ' for, notwithstanding all my sins, the bent of my licart was to God, in a way it never was before ; and that, according to my present feelings, I could not be happy if God was not glorified, and if I had not the enjoyment of his presence, for which I felt that I was now educating.' Aga Boozorg shed tears. "A Russian officer coming in at the time, the sub- ject of religion was dropped, except that, while speak- ing of the convicts of Calcutta whom I had seen at the gaol, MirZa Seid Ali asked me how I addressed them? I told him that I cautioned them against despair, as- sured them that they might come at the eleventh hour ; that it was never too late for mercy, if they came to God through Christ. " After this came Aga Ali, the Mede, to hear, as he said, some of the sentences of Paul. Mirza Seid All had told them, ' that if they had read nothing but the Gospels, they knew nothing of the religion of Christ.' The sheet I happened to have by me was the one con- taining the fourth, fifth) and sixth chapters of the se* 82 374 MEMOIR QV rond EpisDe to the Corinthians, which Aga All read out. "At this time the company had increased conside- rably. I desired Aga Ali to notice particularly the latter part of the fifth chapter, ' God was in Christ, re- conciling the world unto himself.' He then read it a second time, but they saw not its glory ; however, they spoke in high terms of the pith and solidity of Paul's sentences. "They were evidently on the watch for any thing that tallied \vith their own sentiments. Upon the pas- sage — 'Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus,' the Mede observed, ' Do you not see that Jesus was in Paul, and that Paul was only another name for Jesus V And the text, ' Whether we be beside ourselves, it is to God ; and whether we be sober, it is for your sakes,' they interpreted thus : ' We are ab- sorbed in the contemplation of God ; and when we recover, it is to instruct you.' " Walking afterwards with Mirza Seid Ali, he told me how much one of my remarks had affected him, namely, that he had no humility. He had been talking about simplicity and humility, as characteristic of the Soofies. ' Humility !' I said to him ; ' if you were hum- ble, you would not dispute in this manner; you would be like a child.' He did not open his mouth after- wards, but to say, 'True; I have no humility.' In evident distress, he observed, ' The truth is, we are in a state of compound ignorance ; ignorant, yet igno- rant of our ignorance.' "' On the last birth-day Mr. Martyn lived to commemo- HENRY MARTYN 375 rate, we find him speaking in affecting terms -with re- spect to his privations as a missionary, yet expressing himself with ardent and humble gratitude as a believer in the Lord Jesus Christ. Feb. 8. — " While walking in the garden, in some disorder from vexation, two Mussulmen Jews came up, and asked me what would become of them in another world ? The Mohammedans were right in their way, they supposed, and we in ours; but what must they expect ? Afler rectifying their mistake as to the Mo- hammedans, I mentioned two or three reasons for be- lieving that we are right: such as their dispersion, and the cessation of sacrifices, immediately on the appear- ance of Jesus. ' True, true,' they said, with great feel- ing and seriousness; indeed, they seemed disposed to yield assent to any thing I said. They confessed they had become Mohammedans only on compulsion : and that Abdoolghunee wished to go to Bagdad, thinking he might throw off the mask there with safety ; but asked what I thought? I said that the governor was a Mo- hammedan. ' Did I think Syria safer V ' The safest place in the east,' I said, ' was India.' Feelings of pity for God's ancient people, and having the awful impor- tance of eternal things impressed on my mind by the seriousness of their inquiries as to what would become of them, reheved me from the pressure of my com- paratively insignificant distresses. I, a poor Gentile, blest, honored, and loved; secured for ever by the everlasting covenant, whilst the children of the king- dom are still lying in outward darkness ! Well does it become me to be thankful. "This is my birth-day, on which I complete my 376 MEMOIR OF thirty -first year. The Persian New Testament has been begun, and I may say, finished in it, as only the last eight chapters of the Revelation remain. Such a pain- ful year I never passed ; owing to the privations I have been called to, on the one hand, and the spectacle before me of human depravity on the other. But I liope that I have not come to this seat of Satan in vain. The word of God has found its way into Persia, and it is not in Satan's power to oppose its progress, if the Lord hath sent it." The effect upon the natural conscience of a plain and solemn declaration of the awful truths of Scripture, may be seen in the case of one of Mr. Martyn's visit- ors, who to great libertinism of practice added extreme iaiiludinarianism of principle. February 23.—" Aga Neeser came, and talked most captiously and irrelevantly against all revealed reli- gion. Three years ago he had thrown off the shackles of Mohammed, and advised me to do the same with my yoke. I told him that I preferred my yoke to his freedom. He was for sending me naked into a wilder- ness; but I would rather be a child under the restraints of a parent, who would provide me with food and clothing, and be my protector and guide. To every thing I said he had but one answer. ' God is the sole agent ; sin and holiness, happiness and misery, cause and effect, are all perfectly one.' Finding him deter- mined to amuse himself in this way, I said, ' These things will do very well for the present, while reclin- ing in gardens and smoking caleans ; but not for a dying hour. How many years of life remain 1 Yon EENRY MARTYN. 377 are about thirty, perhaps thirty more remain. How swiftly have the last thirty passed ! how soon will the next thirty be gone ! and then we shall see. If you are right, I lose nothing ; if I am right, you lose your soul. Leaving out the consideration of all religion, it is probable that the next world may be akin to this, and our relation to both not dissimilar. But here we see that childhood is a preparation for manhood, and that neglect of the proper employments of childhood entails misery in riper years.' The thought of death, and of separation from his pleasures, made him seri- ous ; or perhaps he thought it useless to press me with any one of his dogmas." On the 24th of February, 1812, the last sheet of the Persian New Testament was completed. " I have many mercies," said the author of this great work, on bring- ing it to a termination, " for which to thank the Lord, and this is not the least. Now may that Spirit who gave the word, and called me, I trust, to be an inter- preter of it, graciously and powerfully apply it to the hearts of sinners, even to the gathering an elect peo- ple from amongst the long-estranged Persians !" The version of the Psalms in Persian, " a sweet em- ployment," as Mr. Martyn terms it, and which, to use his own language, " caused six weary moons, that waxed and waned since its commencement, to pass unnoticed," was finished by the middle of the month of March. Mr. Martyn had now been resident for the space of ten months at Shiraz, during the whole of which time he had been almost incessantly engaged, as we have 32-* 378 MEMOIR OF seen, in endeavoring to reclaim the wretched race of infidels around him from the error of their ways. So far was he from shrinking from any fair opportunity of confessing Christ before men, that he gladly em- braced and boldly sought out every occasion of avow- ing " whose he was, and whom he served." Nor was this conduct in him the fruit of a contentious spirit; it was the genuine offspring of that heavenly charity, wiiich " rejoicing in the truth," is ever ready "to con- tend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints." No one could have a more deep-rooted an- tipathy to controversy, at all times, and with all per- sons, than Mr. Martyn : a paramount regard to what was indispensably due to the cause of his Redeemer alone could induce him to engage in it. One public argument he had already held with the chief professor of Mohammedan law ; a second dispu- tation, of a similar, but far more decided character, he was led to enter into, at this time, with Mirza Ibra- heem. The scene of this discussion was a court in the palace of one of the Persian princes, where a nume- rous body of Moollahs were collected, with Mirza Ibra- heem at their head. In this assembly Mr. Martyn stood up as the single advocate of the Christian faith. Fearing God, like Micaiah the son of Imlah, he feared not man. In the midst, therefore, of a Mohammedan conclave, he proclaimed and maintained that prime and fundamental article of true religion, ihe divinity of the Son of God. " On the 23d," Mr. Martyn writes, " I called on the Vizier, and afterwards on the secretary of the Ker- maiishah prince. In the court where he received me, HENRY MARTYN. 379 Mirza Ibraheem was lecturing. Finding myself so near my old and respectable antagonist, I expressed a wish to see him ; on which Jaffier Ali Khan went up to ascertain if my visit would be agreeable. The mas- ter consented, but some of the disciples demurred. At last one of them observing, that, 'by the blessing of God on the master's conversation, I might possibly be converted,' it was agreed that I should be invited to ascend. Then it became a question where I ought to sit. Below all, would not be respectful to a stranger; but above all the Moollahs, could not be tolerated. I entered, and was surprised at the numbers. The room was lined with Moollahs, on both sides, and at the top. I was about to sit down at the door, but I was beck- oned to an empty place near the top, opposite to the master, who, after the usual compliments, without fur- ther ceremony, asked me, ' what we meant by calling Christ. God?' War being thus unequivocally declar- ed, I had nothing to do but to stand upon the defen- sive. Mirza Ibraheem argued temperately enough, but of the rest, some were very violent and clamorous. The former asked, 'if Christ had ever called himself God ; was he the Creator or a creature T I replied, ' The Creator.' The Moollahs looked at one another. Such a confession had never before been heard among these Mohammedan doctors. "One Moollah wanted to controvert some of my illustrations, by interrogating me about the personality of Christ. To all his questions I replied by requesting the same information respecting his own person. "To another, who was rather contemptuous and violentj I said, ' If you do not approve of our doctrine, 380 MEMOIR OF will you be so good as to say what God is, according to you, that I may worship a proper object?' One said, 'The Author of the universe.' 'I can form no idea from these words,' said I, ' but of a workman at work upon avast number of materials. Is that a correct no- tion?' Another said, 'One who came of himself into being.' 'So then he came,' I replied; 'he came out of one place into another ; and before he came, he was not. Is this an abstract and refined notion?' After this no one asked me any more questions ; and for fear the dispute should be renewed, JafRer Ali Khan carried After making this intrepid and memorable confes- sion of the divinity of our Lord and Savior Jesus ' Faithful found ' Among the faithless ; faithful only he : ' Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, ' His loyalty he kept, his zeal, his love. Mr. Martyn continued only a short time at Shiraz. From his own hand we have this brief account of that mteresting period which immediately preceded his de- parture. " Mirza Seid Ali never now argues against the truth, nor makes any remarks but of a serious kind. He speaks of his dislike to some of the Soofies. on account of their falsehood and drunken habits. This approach to the love of morality is the best sign of a change for the better which I have yet seen in him. As often as he produces the New Testament, which he always HENiiY r.IARTYN. 381 does when any of liis friends come, Ijs brother and cousin ridicule him ; but he tells them that, supposing no other benefit to have been derived, it is certainly something better to have gained all this information about the religion of Christians, than to have loitered away the year in the garden." April 27. — "Four MooUahs of Mirza Ibraheem's school came to dispute against European philosophy and European religion. "Mirza Seid Ali requested, at Mirza Ibraheem's de- sire, to know where we got our notions concerning the Holy Spirit? He, for his part, did not remember any passage in the New Testament which bore upon the subject. I referred them to the second chapter of the first Epistle to the Corinthians." May 10. — "Passed some days at Jaffier Ali Khan's garden, with Mirza Seid Ali, Aga Baba, and Shekh Abulhasan, reading, at their request, the Old Testa- ment histories. Their attention to the word, and their love and attention to me, seemed to increase as the time of my departure approached. "Aga Baba, who had been reading St. Matthew, re- lated very circumstantially to the company, the parti- culars of the death of Christ. The bed of roses on which we sat, and the notes of the nightingales warb- ling around us, were not so sweet to me as this dis- coiu'se from the Persian. "Telling Mirza Seid Ali one day that I wished to return to the city in the evening, to be alone, and at leisure for prayer — he said with seriousness, ' though a man had no other religious society, I suppose he may, with the aid of the Bible, live alone with Gcdl' 382 MEMOIR OF This solitude will, in one respect, be his own state soon. May he find it the medium of God's gracious communications to his soul ! He asked in what way- God ouglit to be addressed.] I told him, as a father, with respectful love ; and added some other exhorta- tions on the subject of prayer." May 11. — "Aga Baba came to bid me farewell, which he did in the best and most solemn way, by asking, as a final question, whether, independently of external evidences, I had any internal proofs of the doctrine of Christ?' I answered, 'Yes, undoubtedly: the change from what I once was, is a sufficient evi- dence to me.' At last he took his leave, in great sor- row, and, what is better, apparently in great solicitude about his soul. '"• The rest of the day I continued with Mirza Seid Ali, giving him instructions what to do with the New Testament, in case of my decease, and exhorting him, as far as his confession allowed me, to stand fast. He had made many a good resolution respecting his be- setting sins. I hope, as well as pray, that some lasting effect may be seen at Shiraz, from the word of God left among them." HENRY MARTYN. CHAPTER X. «R. MARTYN LEAVES SHIRAZ, IN ORDER TO LAY BEFORE TKS KING HIS TRANSLATION OP TUE NEW TESTAMENT — ARRIVES AT THE CAMP — IS NOT ADMITTED TO AN AUDIENCE — PRO- CEEDS TO TEBRIZ — SEVERE ILLNESS. On the evening of the 24lh of May, one year after entering Persia, Mr. Marty n left Shiraz, in company with an English clergyman, with the intention of lay- ing before the king his translation of the New Testa- ment ; but finding that, without a letter of introduc- tion from the British ambassador, he could not, con- sistently with established usage, be admitted into the royal presence, he determined to proceed to Tebriz, where, at that time, Sir Gore Ouseley, his Britannic majesty's minister, resided. His journey from Shiraz to Tebriz was not accom- plished in less than eight weeks, including one week spent at Isfahan, and a few days at the king's camp : and the latter part of it was a time of great and unfore- seen suffering to him. Had he known to what peril his life would be subjected, he doubtless would have deem- ed his object of too insufficient a magnitude to justify his exposing himself to so much danger. " A little belbre sunset," Mr. Martyn writes, " I left the city, and at ten o'clock at night the cafila started. Thus ended my stay at >Shiraz. No year of my life was ever spent more usefully, though such a long sepa- ration from my friends was often a severe trial. Our journey to Persepolis was performed in ten hours. I 884 MEMOIR OP had a fall from my horse, owing to the saddle com* ing off, but a gracious Providence preserved me from harm." May 12. — " Staid at Futihabad, a village about a pa- rasang from the ruins." May 13.—" At three in the morning we pursued ouf way, and at eight reached a village at the north-eastern extremity of the plain of Persepolis. Remained all day at the caravansera, correcting the Prince's copy," May. 14. — " Continued our journey through two ridges of mountains to Imanzadu : no cultivation to be seen any where, nor scarcely any natural vegetable production, except the broom and hawthorn. The wea- ther was rather tempestuous, with cold gusts of wind and fain. " The inhabitants of the village, this being the Tman* Zadu's tomb, do no work, and pay no tax; but are maintained by the surrounding villages, and the casual oflferings of visitors to the tomb. The caravansera be- ing in ruins, we staid all this rainy day at a private house, where we were visited by people who came to be cured of their distempers." May 15. — " From the top of a mountain, just behind Imanzadu, we descended into a vast plain, entirely un-» inhabited, except where the skirls of it were spotted with the black tents of the wandering tribes. Crossing the plain obliquely, we passed over a mountain into another plain, where was the same scene of desolation. After a journey of ten parasangs, arrived, at two in the afternoon, at the caravansera Khooshee Zar, which be- ing in ruins, let in the wind upon us at night in all directions." HENRY MARTYN. 385 " On rising, on the morning of the 16th, we found a hoar frost, and ice in the pools. The excessive cold at this place is accounted for, by its being the highest land between the Persian gulf and the Caspian sea. The baggage not having come up, we were obliged to pass another day in this uncomfortable neighborhood, where nothing was to be procured for ourselves or our horses ; the scarcity of rain this year having left the ground destitute of verdure, and the poor village near us having nothing to sell." May 17. — " Our way to-day lay along the same plain ; on the left was a ridge of hills covered with snow. Entering another plain, into which the former led, we reached a caravansera, near a small walled village, called Dih Serdoo." May 18.— "After a journey of much the same length, over uneven ground, where the view was much ol> structed, we arrived at a caravansera, in a great cleft, which divides Fars from Irak." May 19. — " Moved forward six parasangs, to a pri- vate house at Mujrood. The plain, as usual, uninha- bited ; but we passed one village." May 20. — " Continued our march, over the same plain, to Comesha, four parasangs." May 21. — " To Mygar, five parasangs. Finished the revision of the Prince's copy. At eleven at night we started for Isfahan, where we arrived soon after sunrise on the 22d, and were accommodated in one of the king's palaces. Found my old Shiraz scribe here, and corrected with him the Prince's copy." May 23. — " Called on the Armenian bishops at Julfa, and met Matteus. He is certainly vastly superior to 33 386 MEMOIR OP any Armenian I have yet seen. We went, next, to the Italian missionary, Joseph Carabiciate, a native of Aleppo, but educated at Rome. He spoke Latin ; was very sprightly, considering his age, which was sixty- six, but discovered no sort of inclination to talk about religion. Until lately, he had been supported by the Propaganda ; but, weary at last, of exercising his func- tions without remuneration, and even without the ne- cessary provision, he talked of returning to Aleppo." May 24. — Sunday. — " Went early this morning to the Armenian church attached to the episcopal resi- dence. Within the rails were two out of the four bi- shops, and other ecclesiastics: but, in the body of the church, only three people. Most of the Armenians at Julfa, which is now reduced to five hundred houses, attended at their respective parish churches, of which there are twelve, served by twenty priests. After their pageantry was over, and we were satisfied with pro- cessions, ringing of bells, waving of colors, and other ceremonies, which were so numerous as entirely to re- move all semblance of spiritual worship, we were con- demned to witness a repetition of the same mockery at the Italian's church, at his request. I could not stand it out ; but those who did, observed that the priest ate and drank all the consecrated elements himself, and gave none to the few poor women who composed his congregation, and who, the Armenians said, had been liired for the occasion. In our way back, we called at the convent of Armenian nuns, a company of ignorant old women, who screamed out something in the church, which they called a welcome anthem. I tried to con- verse with the abbess, through Matteus, and was not HENRY MARTYN. 387 much srirprised to find her utterly without information, when the bishops have so little. I wished to learn Matteus's sentiments on the subject of monachism.. Though his defence of it showed that he was not strong in his belief of its utility, I was grieved to see that he did not perceive how far the Christian way of sanctification differed from these human devices to at- tain that object. I talked to him a good deal about the office of the Holy Spirit, but he did not, while assent- ing, seem to feel its importance. Before returning to Isfahan, we sat a short time in the garden, with the bishops. They, poor things! had nothing to say, and could scarcely speaic Persian ; so that all the conver- sation was between me and Matteus. At my request he brought what he had of the Holy Scriptures, ia Persian and Arabic. They were Wheloi's Persian Gos- pels, and an Arabic version of the Gospels, printed at Rome. I tried in vain to bring him to any profitable discussion ; with more sense than his brethren, he is- not more advanced in spiritual knowledge. Returned much disappointed. Julfa had formerly twenty bi- shops, and about one hundred clergy, with twenty-four churches. All the Armenians can read, and have the New Testament ; but family prayer is not known. They may go every day lo church prayers. Matteus preaches every Sunday, he says, and this day expound- ed the first of John, which was the Gospel for the day." May 26. — " The Armenian bishops and three priests came to return our visit. Matteus brought with him a copy of the Gospels, Armenian and Persian, done by Joannes, the late bishop here ; who, he says, was a good scholar, and wrote on the divinity of Christ." 388 MEMOIR OP At the end of the month of May Mr. Martyn do- parted from Isfahan, and thus describes a route in which the extremes of lovely fertility and sterile deso- lation seem to have been united. ' June 1. — " Continued v^^inding through the moun- tains to Caroo, situated in a deep dell. Here were trees, green corn-fields, and running streams ; it was the first place I have seen in Asia which exhibited any thing of the scenery of England." June 2. — " Soon after midnight we mounted our horses. It was a mild moonlight night, and a night- ingale filled the whole valley with his notes. Our way was along lanes, over which the wood on each side formed a canopy, and a murmuring rivulet accom- panied us, till it was lost in a lake. At day-light we emerged into tlie plain of Cashan, which seems to be a part of the Great Salt Desert. On our arrival at the king's garden, where we intended to put up, we were at first refused admittance, but an application to the governor was soon attended to. We saw, here, huge snowy mountains on the north-east beyond Tehran." June 5. — " Reached Kom ; the country uniformly desolate. " The chief Moojtuhid in all Persia being a resident of this city, I sent to know if a visit would be agreea- ble to him. His reply was, that if I had any business with him, I might come; but if otherwise, his age and infirmities must be his excuse. Intending to travel a double stage, started soon after sunset ; and, on June 6. — " Crossed the desert, which we had been skirting from the day we came in sight of Cashan. After traveling ten parasangs, reached the caravansera HEWRY MARTYN. d«y ©f Hour Sultama. Here, first, we seemed to be ap- proaching the Tartar regions." June 7. — "Arrived at a caravansera, with villages in the neighborhood, seven parasangs. A large party- gathered about me in the evening, and from asking questions about Europe, proceeded, as usual^ to inter- rogate me concerning Christ. They continued about me till I mounted my horse, and rode from amongst them, ta prosecute my journey." June 8. — "Arrived, two hours before day-break, ai ihe walls of Tehran. I spread my bed upon the high road, and slept till the gates were open j then entered the city, and took up my abode at the ambassador's- house." As no muleteers could be procured at Tehran tcr proceed to Tebriz, it was considered advisable that Mr. 3Iartyn should travel alone tathe king's camp, for the purpose of seeing Mirza Shufi, the premier, or Ameenoddoula, and soliciting hjs assistance in obtain- ing for him an introduction to the king; for he was " anxious to lose no time in presenting his book." So, "leaving the city," he says, "just before the gates were shut, and giving the cattle their feed outside the walls, I went on, and traveled all night, till sunrise, when I arrived at the caravansera, close to the king's camp at Carach. I lost no time in forwarding Jaffier Ali Khan's letter to the premier, who sent to desire that I would come to him. I found him lying ill in the verandah of the king's tent of audience. Near him were sitting two persons, who, I was afterwards informed, were Mirza Khanter^ and Mirza Abdoolwahab; the latter being a 33* 390 MEMOIR OF secretary of state, and a great admirer of the Soofie sage. They took very httle notice, not rising when I sat down, as is their custom to all who sit with them j nor offering me calean. The two secretaries, on learn- ing my object in coming, began a conversation with me on religion and metaphysics, which lasted two hours. As they were both well-educated, gentlemanly men, the discussion was temperate, and, I hope, use- ful. What I remember of it was as follows : ' Do you consider the New Testament as the word spoken by God V ' The sense from God, but the expression from the different writers of it.' Here the premier asked how many languages I understood ; whether I spoke French; where I was educated ; whether I understood astronomy and geography : and then observed to the others, that I spoke good Persian ; to which they as- sented. They resumed — 'We want to know what your learned men think about the state of the soul after death, till the resurrection.' I mentioned the different opinions. ' But how, think you, does the spirit exist without a body V ' Tell me,' said I, ' how the angels exist, and I will tell you.' 'In what sense do you be- lieve the resurrection of the body? that every particle buried shall rise?' I mentioned the Scripture meta- phor of the wheat dying and rising, with which the Soofie secretary appeared much pleased. ' What are the principles of your religion V ' They are all centred in Jesus; not in his precepts, but in himself.' 'What arc your opinions concerning Christ? was he a pro- phet created?' ' His manhood was created; his God- head, of course, was not.' 'Now we much wish to hear what are your notions on that extraordinary sub- HENRY MARTYN. 391 ject, the Trinity V I explained them, and began Avith observing that the doctrine was by no means so extra- ordinary as at first sight it appeared to be ; and then brought forward the illustration from the words, ' the Image of the invisible God.' ' Have you read the Ko- ran V ' Yes.' ' Is it not a miracle ?' ' Prove it to be so.' The Soofie said, as if from me, ' The Arabs say it is inimitably elegant; how do I, who am a Persian, know it to be so V ' What do you say to the division of the moon V ' That there is no sufficient evidence for it.' ' What superior evidence have you for the mira- cles of Christ?' I was about to answer, when the Soofie, not thinking it would be satisfactory, said, ra- ther dogmatically, that no religion could be proved demonstratively. I said that ' if such a degree of pro- bable evidence was adduced, as we acted upon in com- mon life, we should be inexcusable in rejecting it.' " On the top of the caravansera, at sunset, I had a conversation of a different kind, on these subjects. A man, seated on his rug, asked me what I walked up and down for, and told me to come and sit with him on his carpet. I did so, and found him to be a plain Mohammedan, that is, a compound of bigotry and ig- norance. Every thing I said went for nothing. I knew nothing at all about the Gospel. He had talked with Armenian preachers, and therefore knew more about the matter than myself. They had told him that the story of Jesus and Mary in the Koran was exactly true ; this he took to be an acknowledgment that the book was from God. Thinking it worth while to see the state of the middling rank of Mohammedans, I let him talk away. He supposed that the Mohammedans 392" MEMOIR or had formerly taken all Europe, and tTiaft we still pai(? tribute for being permitted to live. That the mother of Mehdi was the daughter of Simon Peter or Plato; he could not tell which, but rather thought it was Con- stantine, emperor of Rome. He could not understand- how Europe should be on one side of Persia, and Indi?' on the other. Such geographical difficulties are not tcy be wondered at in such a poor fellow, though he had traveled as a merchant a good deal, when the Mool- lahs, and probably even the ministers of state, do not know the relative situation of the provinces of their own kingdom, ''This man was very angry at my presuming to ask why he was a Mohammedan. Finding me at last more disposed to hear than to speak, he began to think that his discourse had made some impression upon me ; and, with eyes sparkling with hopes of a conquest, told me, with great affection, what I should do to get a knowledge of the truth. ' Drink,' said he, ' no wine for three days ; pray, according to your own for.m, for divine direction — and, depend upon it, you will find it.' ' But supposing,' said I, ' that I have no such doubts in my mind as to feel my need of divine du-ection in this particular ; what then V ' Why then,' said he, looking grimly, ' I have nothing more to say to you ; and so, good night.' " The third day after the above conversations, Mr. Martyn was called to a severer trial of his faith and patience than any to which he had yet been exposed. Several of the most intemperate Moollahs set them- selves in array against him, and contended with him in KENRY MARTYN. 393 behalf of Mohammedanism, in the presence of the prime minister of the kingdom. There it wasdemanded of him that he should deny that Savior who had bought him with His blood ; but he " witnessed a good confession," and fearlessly acknowledged Jesus as his Lord. June 12. — "I attended the Vizier's levee, where there was a most intemperate and clamorous contro- versy kept up for an hour or two; eight or ten on one side, and I on the other. Amongst them were two Moollahs, the most ignorant of any I have yet met with in either Persia or India. It would be impossible to- enumerate all the absurd things they said. Their vulgarity in interrupting me in the middle of a speech ; their utter ignorance of the nature of an argument ; their impudent assertions about the law and the Gos- pel, neither of which they had ever seen in their lives, moved my indignation a little. I wished, and I said it would have been well if Mirza Abdoolwahab had been there ; I should then have had a man of sense to argue with. The Vizier, who set us going at first, joined in it latterly, and said, ' You had better say, God is God, and Mohammed is the prophet of God." I said, ' God is God,' but added, instead of 'Mohammed is the prophet of God,' ' and Jesus is the Son of God.' They had no sooner heard this, which I had avoided bring- ing forward till then, than they all exclaimed in con- tempt and anger, ' He is neither born nor begets.' and rose up as if they would have torn me in pieces. One of them said, ' What will you say when your tongue i£ burnt out for this blasphemy V " One of them felt for me a little, and tried to soften the severity of this speech. My book, which I had 0»* MEMOIR or brought, expecting to present it to the king, lay before Mirza Shufi. As they all rose up, after him, to go, some to the king, and some away, I was afraid they would trample upon the book ; so I went in among them to take it up, and wrapped it in a towel before them ; while they looked at it and me with supreme contempt. " Thus- 1 walked away alone to my tent, ta pass the rest of the day in heat and dirt. "What have I done, thought I, to merit all this scorn? Nothing, I trust, but bearing testimony to Jesus. I thought over these things in prayer, and found that peace which Christ hath promised to his disciples r ' If on my face, for thy dear name/ &g. "To complete the trials of the day, a message came from the Vizier, in the evening, to say that it was the custom of the king not to see any Englishman, unless presented by the ambassador, or accredited by a letter from him ; and that I must therefore wait till the king reached Sultania, where the ambassador would be." After this " day of rebuke and blasphemy," — when that divine promise was eminently fulfilled towards Mr. Martyn, " thou shall hide them in the secret of thy presence from the pride of man ; thou shalt keep them secretly in thy pavilion from the strife of tongues ;" when, having heard the "slander of many," and being made " a reproach amongst all his enemies," he could nevertheless exclaim with the Psalmist, "O bwv great is th)^ goodness, which thou hast laid up for them that) fear thee, which thou hast wrought for them that tru-st in thee befo^re the sons of men" — he turned hkr HENRY MARTYN. Ji95 back upon ihe king's camp, having been joined by his companion from Tehran, and prosecuted his journey towards Tebriz. June 13. — " Disappointed," he writes, " of my ob- ject in coming to the camp, I lost no time in leaving it, and proceeded, in company with Mr. C , who had just joined me from Tehran, towards Casbin ; in- tending there to wait the result of an application to the ambassador. Started at eleven, and traveled till eleven next morning, having gone ten parasangs, or forty miles, to Quishlag. The country all along was well watered and cultivated. The mules being too much tired to proceed, we passed the day at the vil- lage ; indeed, we all wanted rest. As I sat down in the dust, on a shady side of a walled village by which we passed, and surveyed the plains over which our road lay, I sighed at the thought of my dear friends in In- dia and England ; of the vast regions I must traverse before I can get to either, and of the various and un- expected hinderances which present themselves to my going forward! I comfort myself with the hope that my God has something for me to do, by thus delaying my exit." June 16. — "Continued at the village, in consequence of an illness with which Mr. C was attacked ; bus at night we moved forward,^ and after traveling seven parasangs over the same fine plain, reached Casbin.^' June 17. — "In the caravansera there, they were collecting straw, &c. for the king, whom they expected in ten days. On this plea, they refused to allow us to unload there." June 18. — " Endeavored to get a muleteer to go to 396 MEMOIR or the ambassador, but could agree with none; so I deter- mined to stay at Casbin. I had at first intended to go on to Sultania, there to wait for the king." June 20. — " Left this place, not a little disgusted al the reception we had met with there. One parasang off, we stopped at a village to get something for break- fast. One of the people there asked a good many questions about our religion. It was such an unusual thing to be traveling coolly, in the middle of the day, in the east, that it produced a new train of ideas : in- deed, I thought of nothing but of my dear friends in England, and of the days when, in weather like this, I walked with them, ' taking sweet counsek' While passing over the plain, mostly on foot, I had them all in my mind, and bore them upon my heart in prayer. The north wind from the Caspian, I suppose, blowing through some clouds which rested on the mountains on our right, made the air excessively cold. " Arrived, between twelve and one o'clock, at Scab Dulir, where a villager gave us his house; and though the room we were in was so constructed as scarcely 10 admit the light, we had need of ail our skins to keep us warm.-' June 21. — " On account of the coolness of the wea- ther, we did not think it neressary to start till seven o'clock, after breakfast. Arrived at the village of Aber at four o'clock in the afternoon, having taken the shortest route. Till we reached the high and frequent- ed road, all was barrenness ; but from thence we found a good deal of cultivation, as also all the way from Casbin ; near which city the vineyards were all open to the road ; there was not so much as a fence." HENRY MARTYN. 397 June 22.—^' Left Sangla at a quarter past five in the morning, and at a quarter past ten reached SuUania. The weather was perfectly cool and agreeable, and all around were the pastures of the wilderness. We met with the usual insulting treatment at the caravansera, where the king's servants had got possession of a good room, built for the reception of the better order of guests J they seemed to delight in the opportunity of humbling an European. Sultania is still but a village, yet the Zengan prince has quartered himself and all his attendants, with their horses, on this poor little village. All along the road where the king is expected, the people are patiently waiting, as for some dreadful dis- aster : plague, pestilence, or famine, are nothing to the misery of being subject to the violence and extortion of this rabble soldiery. One of our servants, who him- self had formerly been a soldier in the king's camp, said, that the troops were raised from the wandering tribes, and from the cities. Those from the tribes are paid by the king, the others by the cities. Sons of the chiefs of the tribes, and, indeed, of all in important governments, are detained at court as hostages. June 24. — " Left Sultania at half-past three. Saw some water-tortoises on the edge of the little stream Vv^hich watered the vale. Continued our course to Zen- gan, a walled city, distant from Sultania six parasangs. Here v/e found, in the caravansera, large bales of cot- ton, brought by merchants from Tehran, intended for Turkey. There were also two Tartar merchants, na- tives of Astrachan, who had brought iron and tea for sale. They wished to know whether we wanted tea of Cathay. I was curious to know something about the 34 398 MEMOIR OP countries they had visited ; but they spoke nothing but Turkish, without which language a person may travel to very little purpose in these parts : Persian is quite a foreign language." June 25. — " After a restless night, rose so ill with a fever that I could not go on. My companion, Mr. C , was nearly in the same state. We touched nothing all day." June 26. — " After such another night, I had deter- mined to go on, but Mr. C declared himself unable to stir ; so here we dragged through another miserable day. What added to our distress was, that we were in danger, if detained here another day or two, of being absolutely in want of the necessaries of life before reaching Tebriz. We made repeated applications to the monied people, but none would advance a piaster. Where are the people who flew forth to meet General Malcolm with their purses and their lives? Another generation is risen up, " who know not Joseph." Pro- videntially a poor muleteer, arriving from Tebriz, be- came security for us, and thus we obtained five tomans. This was a heaven-send; and we lay down quietly, free from apprehensions of being obliged to go a fa- tiguing journey of eight or ten hours, without a house or village in the way, in our present weak and reduced state. We had now eaten nothing for two days. My mind was much disordered from head-ache and giddi- ness, from which I was seldom free ; but my heart, I trust, was with Christ and his saints. To live much longer in this world of sickness and pain, seemed no way desirable ; the most favorite prospects of my heart seemed very poor and childish •, and cheerfully v/ould HENRY MARTYN. 399 I have exchanged them all for the unfading inheri- tance." June 27. — " My Armenian servant was attacked in the same way. The rest did not get me the things tha I wanted, so that I passed the third day in the same exhausted state ; my head, too, was tortured with shocking pains, such as, together with the horror I felt at being exposed to the sun, showed me plainly to what to ascribe my sickness. Towards evening, two more of our servants were attacked in the same way, and lay groaning from pains in the head." June 28. — " All were much recovered, but in the afternoon I again relapsed. During a high fever, Mr. C read to me, in bed, the Epistle to the Ephesians, and I never felt the consolations of that divine revela- tion of mysteries more sensibly and solemnly. Rain in the night prevented our setting off." June 29. — " My ague and fever returned, with such a head-ache that I was almost frantic. Again and again I said to myself, ' Let patience have her perfect work ;' and kept pleading the promises, ' When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee,' &c. and the Lord did not withhold his presence. I endeavored to repel all the disordered thoughts that the fever occa- sioned, and to keep in mind that all was friendly j a friendly Lord presiding, and nothing exercising me but what would show itself at last friendly. A violent perspiration at last relieved the acute pain in my head, and my heart rejoiced ; but as soon as that was over, the exhaustion it occasioned, added to the fatigue from the pain, left me in as low a state of depression as ever I was in. I seemed about to sink into a long fainting 400 MEMOIR or fit, and I almost wished it ; but at this moment, a little after midnight, I was summoned to mount my horse, and set out, rather dead tlian alive. We moved on six parasangs. We had a thunder-storm with hail." July 1. — " A long and tiresome march to Sarehund j in seven parasangs there was no village. They had nothing to sell but buttermilk and bread; but a ser- vant of Abbas Mirza happening to be at the same cara- vansera, sent us some flesh of a mountain-cow, which he had shot the day before. All day I had scarcely the right recollection of myself, from the violence ol the ague. We have now reached the end of the level ground, which we have had all the way from Tehran, and are approaching the boundaries of Parthia and Me- dia ; a most natural boundary it is, as the two ridges of mountains we have had on the left and right, come round and form a barrier." July 2. — " At two in the morning we set out. I hardly know when I have been so disordered. I had little or no recollection of things, and what I did remember, at times, of happy scenes in India or England, served only to embitter my present situation. Soon after re- moving into the air, I was seized with a violent ague, and in this state I went on till sunrise. At three para- sangs and a half we found a fine caravansera, appa- rently very little used, as the grass was growing in the court. There was nothing all round but the barren rocks, which generally roughen the country before the mountain rears its height. Such an edifice, in such a situation, was cheering. Soon after, we came to a river, over which was a high bridge ; I sat down in the shade under it, with two camel-drivers. The cafila, as HENRY MARTYN. 401 it happened, forded the river, and passed on, without my perceiving it. Mr. C , seeing no signs of me, returned, and after looking about for some time, espied my horse grazing; he concluded immediately that the horse had flung me from the bridge into the river, and was almost ready to give me up for lost. My speedy appearance from under the bridge relieved his terror and anxiety. The pass was a mere nothing to those at Bushire ; in fact, it was no part of the mountain we climbed, but only a few hills. In a natural opening in the mountains, on the other side, was a river, with most of its bed dry; and over it a bridge of many arches, which led us to an unwalled village, surrounded by cornfields, which we reached at ten o'clock. Half the people still continue ill ; for myself, I am, through God's infinite mercy, recovering." July 3. — " Started at three, full three hours after we ought, and, as was to be expected, we all got ill again, from being exposed to the sun six hours ; for we did not get to our ground, Turcoman, till eleven o'clock. It was a poor village among the hills, over which our whole way lay from Minau. Ascending one, and de- scending another, was the whole of the variety, so that I do not know when we have had a more tire- some day." July 4. — " I so far prevailed as to get the cafila into motion at midnight. Lost our way in the night, but arriving at a village, were set right again. At eight came to Kilk caravansera, but not stopping there, went on to a village, where we arrived at half-past nine. The baggage not coming up till long after, we got no breakfast till one o'clock. In consequence of all these 34* 402 MEMOIR OF things, want of sleep, want of refreshment, and ex- posure to the sun, I was presently in a high fever ; which raged so furiously all the day. that I was nearly de- lirious, and it was some time before I could get the right recollection of myself. I almost despaired, and do now, of getting alive through this unfortunate jour- ney. Last night I felt remarkably well, calm, and composed, and sat reflecting on my heavenly rest, with more sweetness of soul, abstraction from the world, and solemn views of God, than I have had for a long time. O for such sacred hours ! This short and pain- ful life would scarcely be felt, could I live thus at heaven's gate. It being impossible to continue my journey in my present state, and one of the servants also being so ill that he could not move with safety. we determined to halt one day at the village, and sent on a, messenger to Sir Gore, at Tebriz, informing him of our approach." July 5.—" Slept all day, and at sunset prepared to proceed all the way to Tebriz, or at least to Seid Abad ; but we did not set out till one in the morning. I was again dreadfully disordered with head-ache and fever. We got into a wretched hovel, where the raging fever almost deprived me of reason. In the cool of the even- ing we set out to go to Seid Abad, distant about three parasangs. When the cafila arrived near Seid Abad, it was a dark night, about eleven o'clock, and not one of the party knew where it was, nor could we discover it by the barking of the dogs, the usual sign. Once we heard the bark, and made sure of having attained our object; but found only some shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night. These boors showed us HENRY MARTYN. 403 which road to take, which we soon found end in no- thing ; so returning, we tried to induce one of them to serve as a guide, with the promise of any sum of mo- ney he required — but all in vain. The only thing that remained to be done was to lie down on the spot, and wait patiently for the day: which I did, and caught such a cold, as, with all our other exposures, consum- mated my disorders. As soon as it was day, we found our way to the village, where Dr. was waiting for us. Not being able to stay for us, he went on to Tebriz, and we as far as Wasmuch, where he promised to pro- cure for us a fine upper room furnished ; but when we arrived, they denied that there was any such place ; at last, after an hour's threatening, we got admittance to it. An hour before break of day I left it, in hopes of reaching Tebriz before sunrise. Some of the people seemed to feel compassion for me, and asked me if I was not very ill. At last I reached the gate, and feebly asked for a man to show me the way to the ambas- sador's." By a fever of nearly two months' continuance, which, during the greater portion of that period, raged with unremitting severity, Mr. Martyn was defeated in his intention of presenting, in person, his translation of the New Testament to the king of Persia, and to the prince his son. His disappointment, however, on this occa- sion, was greatly diminished by the kindness of Sir Gore Ouseley, who, together with his lady, was ten- derly and assiduously attentive to Mr. Martyn through- out the whole of his illness ; and who, in order that nothing might be wanting conducive to the favorable 404 MEMOIR OF acceptance of the New Testament by the king, pro- mised himself to present it at court.* The idea of returning to England, which first occur- red to Mr. Martyn at Cawnpore, was, as we have seen, instantly abandoned by him, on its appearing to be the divine will that he should visit Persia. After accom- plishing his great object in that country, the general state of his health seeming to him to render the mea- sure requisite, he reverted to his original intention ; in the prosecution of which he was confirmed by his long illness at Tebriz, which had been induced by exposure to a heated atmosphere. Happy would it have been, speaking after the man- ner of men, had he been less precipitate in putting his design in. execution ; but, on the tenth day after his re- covery, he commenced his journey. What he felt when deprived of health, and what were his sensations when in a considerable degree restored to it, may be seen in extracts from two letters, the one addressed to Mr. Simeon, from the bed of suffering ; the other sent to a friend exceedingly beloved by him in Cornwall. " I would not pain your heart," he said in the first, " but we who are in Jesus have the privilege of view- ing life and death as nearly the same, since both are ours ; and I thank a gracious Lord that sickness never came at a time when I was more free from apparent reasons for living. Nothing, seemingly, remains for * Sir Gore Ouseley, according to his promise, laid the New Testament before the king, who publicly expressed his appro- bation of the work. He also carried the MS. to St. Petersburg, where, under his superintendence, it was printed and put into circulation. HENRY MARTYN. 405 me to do, but to follow the rest of my family to the tomb." " It has pleased God," he wrote in the second, "to restore me to life and health again : not that I have yet recovered my former strength, but I consider myself sufficiently restored to prosecute my journey. My daily prayer is, that my late chastisement may have its intended effect, and make me, all the rest of my days more humble and less self-confident. Self- confidence has often let me down fearful lengths ; and would, without God's gracious interference, prove my endless perdition. I seem to be made to feel this evil of my heart more than any other at this time. In prayer, or when I write or converse on the subject, Christ appears to me my life and strength; but at other times I am thoughtless and bold, as if I had ail life and strength in myself. Such neglects on our part, are a diminution of our joys ; but the Covenant ! the Covenant stands fast with Him for his people ever- more. I mentioned my conversing sometimes on di- vine subjects. In these I am sometimes led on by the Soofie Persians, and tell them all I know of the very recesses of the sanctuary. But to give an account of all my discussions with these mystic philosophers must be reserved to the trnie of our meeting. Do I dream ! that I venture to think and write of such an event as that ? Is it possible that we shall ever meet again below ? Though it is possible, I dare not indulge such a pleasing hope. " In three days I intend setting my horse's head to- wards Constantinople, distant about one thousand three hundred miles. Nothing. I think, will occasion 406 MEMOIR OF any further detention here, if I can procure servants who know both Persian and Turkish. Ignorant as I am of Turkish, should I be taken ill on the road, my case would be pitiable indeed. The ambassador and his suite are still here ; his and Lady Ouseley's atten- tions to me during my illness, have been unremitted. The Prince Abbas Mirza, the wisest of the king's sons, and heir to the throne, was here some time after my arrival. I much wished to present a copy of the Per- sian New Testament to him, but I could not rise from my bed. The book, however, will be given him by the ambassador. Public curiosity about the Gospel, now for the first time, in the memory of the modern Per- sians, introduced into the country, is a good deal ex- cited here and at Shiraz, and in other places ; so that, upon the whole, I am thankful for having been led hither, and detained ; though my residence in this country has been attended with many unpleasant cir- cumstances. The way of the kings of the east is pre- yaritig : thus much may be said with safety, but little more. The Persians will also probably take the lead in the march to Zion." HENRY MARTYN. 407 CHAPTER XI. MR, MARTYN COMMENCES HIS JODRNEY HOMEWARDS, BY WAY OF CONSTANTINOPLE — VISITS ECHMIADZIN — SUFFERS FROM FEVER DIES, AT TOCAT, IN PERSIA VIEW OF HIS CHARACTER — CONCLUSION. With such feeble hopes of reaching England, Mr. Marty n commenced a journey which was the most painful, and at the same time the most joyful one he ever undertook. The miseries he endured in it were mtense ; but it ended in heaven. Sept. 2. — "All things being ready," he says, " I set out on my long journey of one thousand three hun- dred miles, carrying letters from Sir G. Ouseley, for the governors of Erivan, Cars, and Erzeroom, and the ambassador at Constantinople. My party consisted of two Armenian servants, Antoine, the groom, and Ser- gius, who was to accompany me all the way to Con- stantinople, he professing to speak Persian and Turk- ish, and to be qualified to act as my interpreter ; but his knowledge of the former I soon found to be rather scanty. These were mounted, and two other horses carried my luggage ; my Mihmander had also Chap- par* horses; and I rode my own; there was also a man on foot, to bring back the cattle. As we passed through the bazars of Tebriz, I saw quantities of the finest fruit displayed on every stand. At sunset we * Rlr. Martyn, through the friendly mterference of the am bassador, traveled with what are termed Chajypar Horses for an account of which see Burder^s Oriental Customs, p. 260. 408 MEMOIR OF left the western gate of Tebriz behind us. The horses proved to be sorry animals; one sunk so often under his load that we were six hours going what the Mih- mander called two parasangs, but which was undoubt- edly three or four. It was midnight before we arrived at Sangla, a village in the middle of the plain of Tebriz. There they procured me a place in the Zabit's house. I slept till after sunrise of the third, and did not choose to proceed at such an hour; so I passed most of the day in my room. At three in the afternoon pro- ceeded towards Sofian. My health being again re- stored, through infinite and unbounded mercy, I was able to look round the creation with calm delight. The plain of Tebriz, towards the west and south-west, stretches away to an immense distance, and is bound- ed in these directions by mountains so remote as to appear, from their soft blue, to blend with the skies. The baggage having been sent on before, I ambled on with my Mihmander, looking all around me, and es- pecially towards the distant hills, with gratitude and joy. O ! it is necessary to have been confined to a bed of sickness, to know the delight of moving freely through the works of God, with the senses left at li- berty to enjoy their proper objects. My attendant not being very conversant with Persian, we rode silently along: for my part, I could not have enjoyed any companion so much as I did my own feelings. At sunset we reached Sofian, a village with gardens, at the north-west end of the plain ; which is usually the first stage from Tebriz. The Zabit was in his corn- field, under a little tent, inspecting his laborers, who were cutting the straw fine, so as to be fit to be eaten HENRY KARTYN. 409 by cattle ; this was done by drawing over it a cylin- der armed with blades of a triangular form, placed in different planes, so that their vertices should coincide in the cylinder. " The Zabit paid me no attention, but sent a man to show me a place to sleep in, who took me to one with only three walls. I demanded another with four, and was accordingly conducted to a weaver's, where, not- withstanding the musquetoes, and other vermin, I passed the night comfortably enough. On my offering money, the Mihmander interfered, and said that if it were known that I had given money, he should be ruined; and added— 'they, indeed, dare not take it; but this I did not find to be the case." Sept. 4. — " At sunrise mounted my horse, and pro- ceeded north-west, through a pass in the mountains, towards Merend. By the way, I sat down by the brook, and there ate my bread and raisins, and drank of the crystal stream ; but either the coldness of this unusual breakfast, or the riding after it, did not at all agree with me. The heat oppressed me much, and the road seemed intolerably tedious ; at last we got out from among the mountains, and saw the village of Merend, in a fine valley on the right. It was about eleven o'clock when we reached it. As the Mihmander could not immediately find a place to put me in, we had a complete view of this village. They stared at my Eu- ropean dress, but no disrespect was shown. I was deposited, at last, with Khan, who was seated in a place with three walls. Not at all disposed to pass the day in company, as well as exposed, I asked for •mother room ; on which I was shown to the stable, 410 MEMOIR OF where there was a little place partitioned off, but so as to admit a view of the horses. The smell of the stable, though not in general disagreeable to me, was so strong, that I was quite unwell, and strangely dispi- rited and melancholy. Immediately after dinner I fell fast asleep, and slept four hours ; after which I rose and ordered them to prepare for the next journey. The horses being changed here, it was some time before they were brought, but, by exerting myself, we moved off by midnight. It was a most mild and delightful night, and the pure air, after the smell of the stable, was quite reviving. For once, also, I traveled all the way without being sleepy; and beguiled the hours of the night by thinking of the I4th Psalm, especially the connection of the last three verses with the preceding." Sept. 5. — " In five hours we were just on the hills which face the pass out of the valley of Merend, and in four hours and a half more, emerged from between the two ridges of mountains into the valley of Gurjur. Gurjur is eight parasangs from Merend, and our course to it was nearly due north. This long march was far from being a fatiguing one. The air, the road, and my spirits were good. Here I was well accommodated, but had to mourn over my impatient temper towards my servants ; there is nothing that disturbs my peace so much. How much more noble and godlike to bear with calmness, and observe with pity, rather than an- ger, the failings and offences of others. O that I may, through grace, be enabled to recollect myself in the time of tempUition ! O that the Spirit of God may check my folly, and, at such times, bring the Jowly Savior to my view." HENRY MARTYN. 411 Sept. 6.—" Soon after twelve we started with fresh horses, and came to the Aras, or Araxes, distant two parasangs, and about as broad as the Isis, with a cur- rent as strong as that of the Ganges. The ferry-boat being on the other side, I lay down to sleep till it came, but observing my servants do the same, I was obliged to get up and exert myself. It dawned, however, be- fore we got over. The boat was a huge fabric, in the form of a rhombus. The ferryman had only a stick to push with ; an oar, I dare say, he had never seen or heard of, and many of my train had probably never floated before ; so alien is a Persian from every thing that belongs to shipping. We landed safely on the other side in about two minutes. We were four hours in reaching Nakhehevan, and for half an hour more I was led from street to street, till at last I was lodged in a wash-house belonging to a great man, a corner of which was cleaned out for me. It was near noon, and my baggage was not arrived ; so that I was obliged to go without my breakfast, which was hard, after a ride for four hours in the sun. The baggage was delayed so long that I began to fear ; at last, however, it ar- rived. All the afternoon I slept, and at sunset arose, and continued wakeful till midnight, when I roused my people, and with fresh horses set out again. We traveled till sunrise. I scarcely perceived that we had been moving — a Hebrew word in the I6th Psalm hav- ing led me gradually into speculations on the eighth conjugation of the Arabic verb. I am glad my philo- logical curiosity is revived, as my mind will be less liable to idleness." Sept. 7.—" Arrived at Khoik, a poor village, distant 412 MEMOIR OF five and a half parasangs from Nakhehevan, nearly- west. I should have mentioned, that on descendhig into the plain of Nakhehevan, my attention was ar- rested by the appearance of a hoary mountain, oppo- site to us at the other end, rising so high above the rest that they sunk into insignificance. It was truly sublime, and the interest it excited was not lessened, when, on inquiring its name, I was told it was Agri, or Ararat. Thus I saw two remarkable objects in one day, the Araxes and Ararat. At four in the afternoon we set out for Sharoor. The evening was pleasant; the ground over which we passed was full of rich cul- tivation and verdure, watered by many a stream, and containing forty villages, most of them with the usual appendage of gardens. To add to the scene, the great Ararat was on our left. On the peak of that hill the whole church was once contained : it has now spread far and wide, even to the ends of the earth, but the ancient vicinity of it knows it no more. I fancied many a spot where Noah, perhaps, offered his sa- crifices ; and the promise of God, ' that seed-time and harvest should not cease,' appeared to me to be more exactly fulfilled in the agreeable plain in which it was spoken than elsewhere, as I had not seen such fertility in any part of the Shah's dominions. Here the blessed saint landed in a new world ; so may I, safe in Christ, outride the storm of life, and land at last on one of the everlasting hills ! " Night coming on, we lost our way, and got inter- cepted by some deep ravines, into one of which the horse that carried my trunks sunk so deep that the water got into one of them, welted the linen, and spoil- HENRY MARTYN. 413 ed some books. Finding it in vain to attempt gaining our munzil, we went to another village, where, after a long delay, two aged men with silver beards opened their house to us. Though it was near midnight, I had a fire lighted to dry my books, took some coffee, and sunk into deep sleep ; from which awaking at the earliest dawn of Sept. 8. — " I roused the people, and had a delightful ride of one parasang to Sharoor, distant four parasangs from Khoik. Here I was accommodated by the great man with a stable, or winter room, for they build it in such a strange vicinity, in order to have it warm in winter. At present, while the weather is still hot, the smell is at times overpowering. At eleven at night we moved off, with fresh horses, for Duwala ; but though we had guides in abundance, we were not able to ex- tricate ourselves from the ravines with which this vil- lage is surrounded. Procuring another man from a village we happened to wander into, we at last made our way, through grass and mire, to the pass, which led us to a country as dry as the one we had left was wet. Ararat was now quite near : at the foot of it is Duwala, six parasangs from Nakhehevan, where we arrived at seven in the morning of Sept. 9. — " As I had been thinking all night of a He- brew letter, I perceived little of the tediousness of the way. I tried also some difficulties in'the 16th Psalm, without being able to master them. All day on the 15th and 16th Psalm, and gained some light into the difficulties. The villagers not bringing the horses in time, we were not able to go on at night ; but I was not much concerned, as I thereby gained some rest." 35* 414 MEMOIR OF Sept. 10.—" All day at the village, writing down notes on the 15th and 16th Psalm. Moved at midnight and arrived early in the morning at Erivan." Sept. 11. — " I alighted at Hosyn Khan, the gover- nor's palace, as it may be called, for he seems to live in a style equal to that of a prince. Indeed, command- ing a fortress on the frontier, within six hours of the Russians, he is intrusted with a considerable force, and is nearly independent of the Shah. After sleeping two hours, I was summoned to his presence. He al first took no notice of me, but continued reading his Koran, it being the Mohurrun. After a compliment or two, he resumed his devotions. The next ceremony was to exchange a rich shawl dress for a still richer pelisse, on pretence of its being cold. The next display was to call for his physician, who, after respectfully feeling his pulse, stood on one side : this was to show that he had a domestic physician. His servants were most richly clad. My letter from the ambassador, which till now had lain neglected on the ground, was opened and read by a Moonshee. He heard with great interest what Sir Gore had written about the transla- tion of the Gospels. After this he was very kind and attentive, and sent for Lieutenant M of the engi- neers, who was stationed, with two Serjeants, at this fort. In the afternoon, the governor sent for me again in private. A fountain, in a basin of white marble, was playing before him, and in it water grapes and melons were cooling ; two time-pieces were before him, to show the approach of the time of lawful repast: be- low the window, at a great depth, ran a broad and rapid stream, over rocks and stones, under a bridge of HENRY MARTYN. 415 two arches, producing an agreeable murmur : on the other side of the river were gardens, and a rich plain j and directly in front, Ararat. He was now entirely free from ceremony, but too much fatigued to con- verse. I tried to begin a religious discussion, by ob- serving that ' he was in one paradise now, and was in quest of another hereafter ;' but this remark produced no effect. He ordered for me a Mihmander, a guard and four horses, with which a Turk had just come from Cars. Lieut. M dined and passed the rest of the evening with us." Sept. 12. — " The horses not being ready for me ac- cording to my order, I rode alone, and found my way to Echmiadzin (or Three Churches) two and a half parasangs distant. Directing my course to the largest church, I found it enclosed by some other buildings and a wall. Within the entrance I found a large court, with monks, cowled and gowned, moving about. On seeing my Armenian letters, they brought me to the patriarch's lodge, where I found two Bishops, one of whom was Nerses, at breakfast on pilaws, kubebs, wine, arrack, &c. and Serafino with them. As he spoke English, French, and Italian, I had no difficulty in communicating with my hosts. After breakfast, Se- rafino showed me the room appointed for me, and sat down and told me his story. His proper name, in Ar- menian, is Serope ; he was born at Erzeroom, of Ar- menian Roman Catholic parents. His father dying when he was young, his mother intrusted him to the care of the missionaries, to be carried to Rome to be educated. There he studied eight years, and became oerfectly Europeanized. At eighteen or twenty he left 416 MEMOIR OF Rome, and repaired to Mount Libanus, where he was ordained; and there his eyes were opened to the falsehood of the Pope's pretensions. After this he served the Armenian church at Erzeroom, and then at Cars, after which he went to Bagdad. Receiving at this time an invitation from the patriarch at Echmiad- zin, to join their body, he consented, on condition that he should not be considered as a common monk ; and accordingly he is regarded with that deference which his talents and superior information demand. He is ex- erting himself to extend his influence in the monas- tery, for the purpose of executing some plans he has formed for the improvement of the Armenians. The monastery, and consequently the whole of the Arme- nians, are under the direction of Nerses, one of the bishops ; for the patriarch Ephraim is a mere cypher, and passes most of his time in bed. About three years ago Nerses succeeded in forming a synod for the ma- nagement of the business of the church, consisting of eight bishops, in which, of course, he is all-powerful. The patriarch is elected by twelve bishops. One mem- ber alone of the synod is a man of any ability, and he sometimes ventures to differ from Nerses. The object which Serope has at heart, is a college, to teach the Armenian youth logic, rhetoric, and the other sciences. The expediency of this is acknowledged, but they can- not agree about the place where the college should be. Serope, considering the danger to which the cathedral seat is exposed, from its situation between Russia, Persia, and Turkey, is for building it at Teflis. Nerses, on the contrary, considering that Echmiadzin is the spot appointed by heaven, according to a vision of HENRY MARTYN. 417 Gregory, for the cathedral seat, and so sanctified, is for having it there. The errors and superstitions of his people were the subject of Serope's conversation for the whole morning, and seemed to be the occasion of real grief to him. He intended, he said, after a few more months' trial of what he could do here, to retire to India, and then write and print some works in Ar- menian, tending to enlighten the people with regard to religion, in order to introduce a reform. I said all I could to encourage him in such a blessed work ; pro- mising him every aid from the English, and proving to him, from the example of Luther and the other Eu- ropean Reformers, that, however arduous the work might seem, God would surely be with him to help him. I mentioned the awful neglect of the Armenian clergy, in never preaching ; as thereby the glad ti- dings of a Savior were never proclaimed. He made no reply to this, but that ' it was to be lamented, as the people were never called away from vice.' When the bell rang for vespers, we went together to the great church. The ecclesiastics, consisting of ten bishops and other monks, with the choristers, were drawn up in a semicircle fronting the altar, for a view of which the church door was left open. Serope fell into his place, and went through a few of the ceremonies; he then took me into the church, never ceasing to remark upon the ignorance and superstition of the people. Some of his Catholic prejudices against Luther seem- ed to remain. The monks dined together in the hall at eleven ; at night, each sups in his own room. Serope, Nerses, and two or three others, form a party them- selves, and seldom dine in the hall, where coarseness, both of meals and manners, too much prevails." 418 MEMOIR OF Sept. 13. — " I asked Serope about the 16tli Psalm in the Armenian version; he translated it into correct Latin. In the afternoon I waited on the patriarch ; it was a visit of great ceremony. He was reclining on a sort of throne, placed in the middle of the room. All stood, except the two senior bishops ; a chair was set for me on the other side, close to the patriarch ; at my right hand stood Serope, to interpret. The patriarch had a dignified, rather than a venerable appearance. His conversation consisted in protestations of sincere attachment, in expressions of his hopes of deliverance from the Mohammedan yoke, and inquiries about my translations of the Scriptures; and he begged me to consider myself as at home in the monastery. Indeed, their attention and kindness are unbounded. Nerses and Serope anticipate my every wish. I told the pa- triarch that I was so happy in being here, that, did duty permit, I could almost be willing to become a monk with them. He smiled, and fearing, perhaps, that I was in earnest, said that they had quite enough. Their number is a hundred, I think. The church was immensely rich till about ten years ago, when, by quarrels between two contending patriarchs, one of whom is still in the monastery in disgrace, most of their money was expended in referring their disputes to the Mohammedans as arbitrators. There is no diffi- culty, however, in replenishing their coffers: their merchants in India are entirely at their command." Sept, 15. — " Spent the day in preparing, with Serope, for the mode of traveling in Turkey. All my heavy and expensive preparations at Tebriz prove to be in- cumbrances, which must be left behind : my trunks HENRY IMARTYN. 419 were exchanged for bags ; and my portable table and chair, several books, large supplies of sugar, &c. were condemned to be left behind. My humble equipments were considered as too mean for an English gentle- man ; so Serope gave me an English bridle and saddle. The roads in Turkey being much more infested with robbers than those of Persia, a sword was brought for me. My Armenian servant, Sergius, was also to be armed with a gun and sword, but it was determined that he was unfit for the journey ; so a brave and trusty man of the monastery, named Melcom, was ap- pointed in his stead, and he had arms of his own ; he speaks nothing but Turkish." Sept. 16. — "I conversed again with Serope on his projected reformation. As he was invited to Echmi- adzin for the purpose of educating the Armenian youth for the ministry, he has a right to dictate in all that concerns that matter. His objection to Echmiadzin is, that from midnight to sunrise all the members of the monastery must attend prayers ; this requires all to be in bed immediately after sunset. The monks are chiefly from the neighborhood of Erivan, and were originally singing-boys ; into such hands is this rich and power- ful foundation fallen. They have no vows upon them but those of cehbacy." The hospitable and benevolent conduct of the inte- resting society at Echmiadzin* made a deep impres- sion upon the feeling mind of their guest ; received by * For the interest the Armenians excite in a missionary point of view, see Dr. Buchanan's Christian Researches. 420 MEMOIR OF them as a brother, he left them with sentiments of fra- ternal regard, and no doubt his heart swelled with grateful recollections of peculiar strength, when the kindness he had experienced in the bosom of an Ar- menian monastery was brought into contrast with that Mohammedan inhospitality and cruelty to which in a short time he was subjected. "At six in the morning of September 17," Mr. Mar- tyn writes, " accompanied by Serope, one bishop, the secretary, and several servants of the monastery, I left Echmiadzin. My party now consisted of two men from the governor of Erivan, a Mihmander, and a guard ; my servant Sergius, for whom the monks in- terceded, as he had some business at Constantinople ; one trusty servant from the monastery, Melcom, who carried my money ; and two baggage-horses with their owners. The monks soon returned, and we pursued our way over the plain of Ararat. At twelve o'clock reached Quila Gazki, about six parasangs from Ech- miadzin. The Mihmander rode on, and got a good place for me." Sept. 18. — " Rose with the dawn, in hopes of going this stage before breakfast, but the horses were not ready. I set oif at eight, fearing no sun, though I found it at times very oppressive when there was no wind. At the end of three hours we left the plain of Ararat, the last of the plains of modern Persia in this quarter. Meeting here with the Araxes again, I un- dressed and plunged into the stream. While hastening forward, with the trusty Melcom, to rejoin my party, we were overtaken by a spearman, with a lance of formidable length : I did not think it likely that one HENRY MARTYN. 421 man would venture to attack two, both armed ; but the spot was a noted one for robbers, and very well calcu- lated, by its solitariness, for deeds of privacy ; how- ever, he was friendly enough. He had, however, near- ly done me a mischief. On the bank of the river we sprung a covey of partridges : instantly he laid his lance under him across the horse's back, and fired a horse-pistol at them. His horse starting at the report, came upon mine, with the point of the spear directly towards me, so that I thought a wound for myself or horse was inevitable ; but the spear passed under my horse. We were to have gone to Hagi-Buhirem, but finding the head-man of it at a village a few furlongs nearer, we stopped there. We found him in a shed outside the walls, reading his Koran, with his sword, gun, and pistol by his side. He was a good-natured farmer-looking man, and spoke in Persian. He chant- ed the Arabic with great readiness, and asked me whether I knew what that book was. ' Nothing less than the great Koran !' " Sept. 19. — " Left the village at seven in the morn- ing, and as the stage was reputed to be very dangerous, owing to the vicinity of the famous Cara Beg, my Mih- mander took three armed men from the village in ad- dition to the one we brought from Erivan. We con- tinued going along, through the pass, two or three pa- rasangs, and crossed the Araxes three times. We then ascended the mountains on the north, by a road, if not so steep, yet as long and difficult as any of the cotuls of Bushire. On the top we found table-land, along which we moved many a tedious mile, expecting every minute that we should have a view of a fine cham- 3G 422 MEMOIR OF paign country below ; but dale followed dale, appa- rently in endless succession, and though at such a height, there was very little air to relieve the heat, and nothing to be seen but barren rocks. One part, how- ever, must be excepted, where the prospect opened to the north, and we had a view of the Russian territory ; so that we saw at once, Persia, Russia, and Turkey. At length we came to an Armenian village, situated in a hollow of these mountains, on a declivity. The vil- lage presented a singular appearance, being filled with conical piles of peat, for they have no fire-wood. Around, there was a great deal of cultivation, chiefly corn. Most of the low land from Tebriz to this place is planted with cotton, palma Christi, and rice. This is the first village in Turkey ; not a Persian cap was to be seen ; the respectable people wore a red Turkish cap. The great man of the village paid me a visit ; he was a young Mussulman, and took care of all my Mus- sulmen attendants ; but he left me and my Armenians where he found us, at the house of an Armenian, with- out offering his services. I was rather uncomfortably lodged, my room being a thoroughfare for horses, cows, buffaloes, and sheep. Almost all the village came to look at me. The name of this village is Fiwick ; it is distant six parasangs from the last ; but v/e were eight hours accomplishing it, and a cafila would have been twelve. We arrived at three o'clock ; both horses and men much fatigued." Sept. 20. — " From day-break to sunrise I walked, then breakfasted, and set out. Our course lay north, over a mountain ; and here danger was apprehended j it was, indeed, dismally solitary all around. The ap- HENRY MARTYN. 423 pearance of an old castle on the top of a crag was the first occasion on which our guard got their pieces ready, and one rode forward to reconnoiter : but all there was as silent as the grave. At last, after travel- ing five hours, we saw some men ; our guard again took their places in front. Our fears were soon removed by seeing carts and oxen. Not so the opposite party ; for my baggage was so small as not to be easily per- ceived. They halted, therefore, at the bottom, towards which we were both descending, and those of them who had guns advanced in front and hailed us. We answered peaceably; but they, still distrusting us, as we advanced nearer, cocked their pieces : soon, how- ever, we came to a parley. They were Armenians, bringing wood from Cars to their village in the moun- tain : they were hardy, fine young men, and some old men who were with them were particularly venerable. The dangerous spots being passed through, my party began to sport with their horses ; galloping across the path, brandishing their spears or sticks ; they darted them just at the moment of wheeling round their horses, as if that motion gave them an advantage. It struck me that this, probably, was the mode of fight- ing of the ancient Parthians, which made them so ter- rible in flight. Presently after these gambols, the ap- pearance of some poor countrymen with their carts put into their heads another kind of sport: for know- ing, from the ill fame of the spot, that we should easily be taken for robbers, four of them galloped forward, and by the time we reached them, one of the carters was opening a bag to give them something. I was. of course, very much displeased, and made signs to him 424 MEMOIR OF not to do it. I then told them all, as we quietly pur- sued our course, that such kind of sport was not al- lowed in England ; they said it was the Persian cus- tom. We arrived at length at Ghanikew, having rid- den six hours and a half without intermission. The Mihmander was for changing his route continually, either from real or pretended fear. One of Cara Beg's men sav/ me at the village last night, and as he would probably get intelligence of my intended route, it was desirable to elude him. But, after all, we went the shortest way, through the midst of danger, if there was any, and a gracious Providence kept all mischief at a distance. Ghanikew is only two parasangs from Cars, but I stopped there, as I saw it was more agreea- ble to the people ; besides which, I wished to have a ride before breakfast. I was lodged in a stable-room, but very much at my ease, as none of the people of the village could come at me without passing through the house." Sept. 21. — "Rode into Cars. Its appearance is quite European, not only at a distance, but within. The houses all of stone ; streets with carts passing ; some of the houses open to the street ; the fort on an un- commonly high rock ; such a burying-ground I never saw ; there must be thousands of grave-stones. The Mihmander carried me directly to the governor, who, having just finished his breakfast, was, of course, asleep, and could not be disturbed ; but his head-man carried me to an Armenian's house, with orders to live at free quarters there. The room at the Armenian's was an excellent one, up stairs, facing the street, fort, and river, with a bow containing five windows, under HENRY MARTYN. 425 which were cushions. As soon as the pacha was visi- ble, the chief Armenian of Cars, to whom I had a let- ter from bishop Nerses, his relation, waited upon him on my business. On looking over my letters of re- commendation from Sir Gore Ouseley, I found there was none for Abdalla, the pacha of Cars ; however, the letter to the governor of Erivan secured all I wanted. He sent to say I was welcome ; that if I liked to stay a few days, he should be happy ; but that if I was de- termined to go on to-morrow, the necessary horses, and ten men for a guard, were all ready. As no wish was expressed of seeing me, I was of course silent upon' that subject." Sept. 22. — " Promises were made that every thing should be ready at sunrise ; but it was half-past nine before we started, and no guard present but the Tartar. He presently began to show his nature, by flogging the baggage-horse with his long whip, as one who was not disposed to allow loitering ; but one of the poor beasts presently fell with his load, at full length, over a piece of timber lying in the road. While this was setting to rights, the people gathered about me, and seemed more engaged vvith my Russian boots than with any other part of my dress. We moved south- west, and after five hours and a half reached Joula. The Tartar rode forward, and got the coffee-room at the post-house ready. The coffee-room has one side raised and covered with cushions, and on the opposite side, cushions on the ground ; the rest of the room was left with bare stones and timbers. As the wind blew very cold yesterday, and I had caught cold, the Tar- tar ordered a great fire to be made. In this room I 36* 426 MEMOIR OF should have been very much to my satisfaction, had not the Tartar taken part of the same bench ; and many other people made use of it as a public room. They were continually consulting my watch, to know how near the hour of eating approached. It was evident that the Tartar was the great man here : he took the best place for himself; a dinner of four or five dishes was laid before him. When I asked for eggs, they brought me rotten ones ; for butter, they brought me ghee. The idle people of the village came all night, and smoked till morning. It was very cold, there being a hoar frost." Sept. 23. — " Our way to-day lay through a forest of firs ; and the variety of prospect it afforded, of hill and dale, wood and lawn, was beautiful and romantic. No mark of human workmanship was any where visible for miles, except where some trees had fallen by the stroke of the woodman. We saw, at last, a few huts in the thickest clumps, which was all we saw of the Curds, for fear of whom I was attended by ten armed horsemen. We frightened a company of villagers again to-day. They were bringing wood and grass from the forest, and, on seeing us, drew up. One of our party advanced and fired : such a rash piece of sport I thought must have been followed by serious mischief, but all passed off very well. With the forest I was delighted ; the clear streams in the valleys, the lofty trees crowning the summit of the hills, the smooth paths winding away and losing themselves in the dark woods, and, above all, the solitude that reigned through- out, composed a scene which tended to harmonize and solemnize the mind. What displays of taste and mag- HENRY MARTYN. 427 nificence are found occasionally on this ruined earth- Nothing was wanting to-day but the absence of the Turks ; to avoid the sight and sound of whom I rode on. After a ride of nine hours and a half we reached Mijingerd, in the territory of Erzeroom; and having resolved not to be annoyed in the same way as last night, I left the Tartar in the undisturbed possession of the post-house, and took up my quarters at an Ar- menian's, where, in the stable-room, I expected to be left alone ; but a Georgian young man, on his way from Echmiadzin, going on pilgrimage to Moosh, where John the Baptist is supposed to be buried, presumed on his assiduous attentions to me, and contrived to get a place for himself in the same room." Sept. 24. — " A long and sultry march over many a hill and vale. In the way, two hours from the last stage, is a hot spring : the water fills a pool, having four porches. The porches instantly reminded me of Bethesda's pool : they were semicircular arches, about six feet deep, intended, seemingly, for shelter from the sun. In them all the party undressed and bathed. The Tartar, to enjoy himself more perfectly, had his calean to smoke while up to his chin in water. We saw nothing else on the road to-day, but a large and opulent family of Armenians, men, women, and chil- dren, in carts and carriages, returning from a pilgrim- age to Moosh. After eleven hours and a half, including the hour spent at the warm spring, we were overtaken by the dusk ; so the Tartar brought us to Oghoomra, where I was placed in an Armenian's stable-room." Sept. 25. — " Went round to Hassan Kulaah where we changed horses. I v/as surprised to see so strong a 428 MEMOIR OF fort and so large a town. From thence we were five and a half hours reaching the entrance of Erzeroom. All was busy and moving in the streets and shops ; crowds passing along. Those who caught a sight of ua were at a loss to define me. My Persian attendants, and the lower part of my dress, made me appear Per- sian ; but the rest of the dress was new, for those only who had traveled knew it to be European. They were not disposed, I thought, to be civil ; but the two per sons who preceded us kept all in order. I felt myself in a Turkish town ; the red cap, and stateliness, and rich dress, and variety of turbans, was realized as I had seen it in pictures. There are here four thousand Armenian families, and but one church: there are scarcely any Catholics, and they have no church." Sept. 29. — " Left Erzeroom, with a Tartar and his son, at two in the afternoon. We moved to a village, ■where I was attacked with fever and ague : the Tar- tar's son was also taken ill, and obliged to return." Sept. 30. — "Traveled first to Ash Kulaah, where we changed horses, and from thence to Purnugaban, where we halted for the night. I took nothing all day but tea, and was rather better ; but headache and loss of appetite depressed my spirits ; yet my soul rests in Him who is ' as an anchor of the soul, sure and stead- fast,' which, though not seen, keeps me fast." Oct. 1. — " Marched over a mountainous tract : we were out from seven in the morning till eight at night. After sitting a little by the fire, I was near fainting from sickness. My depression of spirits led me to the throne oi grace, as a sinful, abject worm. When I thought of myself and my transgressions, I could find HENRY MARTYN. 429 no text so cheering as, ' My ways are not as your ways.' From the men who accompanied Sir William Ouseley to Constantinople, I learned that the plague was raging at Constantinople, and thousands dying every day. One of the Persians had died of it. They added, that the inhabitants of Tocat were flying from their town from the same cause. Thus I am passing inevitably into imminent danger. O Lord, thy will be done ! Living or dying, remember me." Oct. 2. — " Some hours before day I sent to tell the Tartar I was ready, but Hassan Aga was for once rivet- ed to his bed. However, at eight, having got strong horses, he set off at a great rate, and over the level ground he made us gallop as fast as the horses would go, to Chiftlick, where we arrived at sunset. I was lodged, at my request, in the stables of the post-house, not liking the scrutinizing impudence of the fellows who frequent the coffee-room. As soon as it began to grow a little cold, the ague came on, and then the fe- ver : after which I had a sleep, which let me know too plainly the disorder of my frame. In the night, Has- san sent to summon me away, but I was quite unable to move. Finding me still in bed at the dawn, he be- gan to storm furiously at my detaining him so long; but I quietly let him spend nis ire, ate my breakfast composedly, and set out at eight. He seemed deter- mined to make up for the delay, for we flew over hill and dale to Sheheran, where he changed horses. From thence we traveled all the rest of the day and all night ; it rained most of the time. Soon after sunset the ague came on again, which, in my wet state, was very try- ing ; I hardly knew how to keep my life in me. About 430 MEMOIR OF that time there was a village at hand ; but Hassan had no mercy. At one in the morning we found two men under a wain, with a good fire ; they could not keep the rain out, but their fire was acceptable. I dried my lower extremities, allayed the fever by drinking a good deal of water, and went on. We had a little rain, but the night was pitchy dark, so that I could not see the road under my horse's feet. However. God being mer- cifully pleased to alleviate my bodily suffering, I went on contentedly to the menzil, where we arrived at break of day. After sleeping three or four hours, I was visited by an Armenian merchant, for whom I had a letter. Hassan was in great fear of being arrested here ; the governor of the city had vowed to make an example of him for riding to death a horse belonging to a man of this place. He begged that I would shel- ter him, in case of danger; his being claimed by an Englishman, he said, would be a sufficient security. I found, however, that I had no occasion to interfere. He hurried me away from this place without delay, and galloped furiously towards a village, which, he said, was four hours distant ; which was all I could undertake in my present weak state ; but village after village did he pass, till night coming on, and no signs of another, I suspected that he was carrying me on to the menzil ; so I got off my horse, and sat upon the ground, and told him, ' I neither could nor would go any fur- ther.' He stormed, but I was immovable; till, a light appearing at a distance, I mounted my horse and made towards it, leaving him to follow or not, as he pleased. He brought in the party, but would not exert himself to get a place for me. They brought me to an open HENRY MARTYN. 431 verandah, but Sergius told them I wanted a place in which to be alone. This seemed very offensive to them. 'And why must he be alone?' they asked; ascribing this desire of mine to pride, I suppose. Tempted, at last, by money, they brought me to a stable-room, and Hassan and a number of others plant- ed themselves there with me. My fever here increased to a violent degree, the heat in my eyes and forehead was so great, that the fire almost made me frantic. I entreated that it might be put out, or that I might be carried out of doors. Neither was attended to : my servant, who, from my sitting in that strange way on the ground, believed me delirious, was deaf to all I said. At last I pushed my head in among the lug- gage, and lodged it on the damp ground, and slept." Oct. 5. — "Preserving mercy made me see the light of another morning. The sleep had refreshed me, but I was feeble and shaken ; yet the merciless Hassan hurried me off. The menzil, however, not being dis- tant, I reached it without much difnculty. I expected to have found it another strong fort at the end of the pass; but it is a poor little village within the jaws of the mountains. I was pretty well lodged, and felt to- lerably well till a little after sunset, when the ague came on with a violence I had never before experi- enced; I felt as if in a palsy, my teeth chattermg, and my whole frame violently shaken. Aga Hosyn and another Persian, on their way here from Constan- tinople, going to Abbas Mirza, whom I had just before been visiting, came hastily to render me assistance, if they could. These Persians appear quite brotherly, after the Turks. \^Tiile they pitied me, Hassan sat in 432 MEMOIR OF perfect indifference, ruminating on the further delay this was likely to occasion. The cold fit, after conti- nuing two or three hours, was followed up by a fever, which lasted the whole night, and prevented sleep." Oct. 6. — " No horses being to be h^d, I had an un- expected repose. I sat in the orchard, and thought, with sweet comfort and peace, of my God ; in soli- tude, my company, my friend, and comforter. O! when shall time give place to eternity ! When shall appear that new heaven and new earth wherein dwell- eth righteousness ! There, there shall in no wise en- ter in any thing that defileth : none of that wicked- ness which has made men worse than wild beasts — none of those corruptions which add still more to the miseries of mortality, shall be seen or heard of Scarcely had Mr. Martyn breathed these aspirations after that state of blissful purity, for which he had at- tained such a measure of meetness, when he was called to exchange a condition of pain, weakness, and suffering, for that everlasting " rest which remaineth for the people of God." At Tocat, on the 16th of October, 1812, either fall- ing a sacrifice to the plague, which then raged there, or sinking under that disorder which, when he penned his last words, had so greatly reduced him, he surren- dered his soul into the hands of his Redeemer.* * The American missionaries who have visited Tocat, hare obtained but little information as to the circumstances of his death, though any one could tell the place of his burial. His grave is in the Armenian cemetery around the church at the HENRY MARTYR. 433 The peculiar circumstances, as v/ell as the particu* Jar period of his death, could not fail of greatly aggra- vating the affliction of his friends, who, amidst anxious hopes and fears, were expecting his arrival either in India or England. He had not completed the thirty- second year of a life of eminent activity and useful- ness, and he died while hastening towards his native country, that, having there repaired his shattered health, he might again devote it to the glory of Christ, amongst the nations of the East. There was some- thing, also, deeply affecting in the consideration, that where he sunk into his grave, men were strangers to him and to his God. No friendly hand was stretched out — no sympathizing voice heard at that time, when the tender offices of Christian affection are so soothing and so delightful; no human bosom was there, on which Mr. Martyn could recline his head in the hour north-eastern part of the town, over which is a monnment, erected by Claudius James Rich, Esq. English Resident at Bagdad, bearing a Latin inscription, of which the following u a literal translation: To Rev. Henrt MarttiTi An English Clergyman and Missionary; A pious, learned, and faithful servant, whom. As he was returning to his native land. The Lord here called To his eternal joy. A. D. 1812. C. J. R. consecrated this stone, A. D. 1823. 37 434 MEMOIR OP of languishing. Pauciorihiis lacnjmis compositiis es * was a sentiment to which the feelings of nature and friendship responded : yet the painful reflection could not be admitted— /^i novissimd luce desideravere ali' quid oculi tin.] The Savior, doubtless, was with his servant in his last conflict, and he with Him the in- stant it terminated. So richly was the mind of Mr. Marty n endowed by the God of nature and of grace, that at no period could his death fail to be a subject of common lamentation to those who valued the interests of the church of Christ. " He was in our hearts," observed one of his friends in India,! " Ave honored him ; we loved him ; we thank- ed God for him ; we prayed for his long continuance amongst us; we rejoiced in the good he was doing: we are sadly bereaved ! Where such fervent piety, and extensive knowledge, and vigorous understanding, and classical taste, and unwearied application, were all united, what might not have been expected? I cannot dwell upon the subject without feeling very sad. I stand upon the walls of Jerusalem, and see the lamentable breach that has been made in them ; but it is the Lord ; he gave, and he hath taken away." " Mr. Martyn," remarks another of his friends,§ in describing more particularly his intellectual endow- * With few tears thou art laid to rest. t In thy last moments thine eyes desired something on which to rest. t The late Rev. Mr. Thomason. $ The Rev. C. J. Hoare, Archdeacon of Winchester. HENRY MARTYN. 435 ments, "combined in himself certain valuable but dis- tinct qualities, seldom found together in the same indi- vidual. The easy triumphs of a rapid genius over first difficulties never left him satisfied with present attain ments. His mind, which naturally ranged over a wide field of human knowledge, lost nothing of depth in its expansiveness. He was one of those few persons whose reasoning faculty does not suffer from their imagina- tion, nor their imagination from their reasoning facul- ty; both, in him, were fully exercised, and were of a very high order. His mathematical acquisitions clear- ly left him without a rival of his own age ; and yet, to have known only the employments of his more free and unfettered moments, would have led to the con- clusion that poetry and the classics were his predomi- nant passion." But the radiance of these talents, excellent as they were, was lost in the brightness of those Christian graces by which he " shone as a light in the world, holding forth the word of life." In his faith there was a singular, a child-like simplicity : great, consequently, was its energy, both in obeying Christ, and in suffer- ing for his name's sake ! By this he could behold blos- soms upon the rod, even when it was apparently dead ; and in those events which, like the captain of the Lord's host seen by Joshua, presented at first a hostile aspect, he could discern a favorable and a friendly counte- nance. Having listened to that tender and overwhelm- ing interrogation of his Savior, "Lovest thou me?" his love was fervently exercised towards God and man, at all times, and in all places ! JFor it was not like the land-spring, which runs violently for a season, and 436 MEMOIR OF with a perennial stream from tlie recesses of the rock. His fear of God, and tenderness of conscience, and watchfuhiess over his own heart, conld scarcely be surpassed in tliis state of sinful infirmity. But it was his humility that was most remarkable : this might be considered as the warp of which the entire texture ol his piety was composed ; and with this his other Chris- tian graces were so intimately blended as to beautify and adorn his whole demeanor. It was, in truth, the accordance and consent of various Christian attain- ments in jMr. Martyn, which were so striking. The symmetry of his stature in Christ was as surprising as its height. That communion which he held with his God, and which caused his face to shine, was ever chastened, like the patriarchs of old, by the most aw- ful reverence. The nearer the access with which he was favored, the more deeply did he feel that he was but " sinful dust and ashes." No discordance could he discover between peace and penitence ; no opposition between joy in God, and utter abasement before him; and truly in this, as in every other respect, had he thoroughly imbibed the spirit of his own church ; which, in the midst of one of her sublimest hymns of praise, leads her members to prostrate themselves be- fore their Redeemer in these words of humiliation, "Thou that takest away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us." To be zealous without love ; or to have that which is miscalled charity, without decision of character, is neither difficult nor uncommon. Mr. Martyn's zeal was tempered with love, and his love invigorated by HENRY MARTYN. 437 zeal. He combined, also, ardor with prudence ; gra- vity with cheerfulness; abstraction from the world With an enjoyment of its lawful gratifications. His ex- treme tenderness of conscience was devoid of scrupu- losity ; his activity in good works was joined to ha- bits of serious contemplation; his religious affections, which were highly spiritualized, exceeded not the li- mits of the most cautious sobriety, and were so far from impairing his natural affections, that they raised and purified them. Many sincere servants of Christ labor to attain heaven, but possess not any joyful hope of reaching it; many vain hypocrites are confident of their salvation, without striving to enter in at the strait gate. With the apostle, Mr. Martyn could say, " We are always confident ; wherefore, we labor," &c. Together with an assurance of his final and everlasting felicity, he had a dread of declension, and a fear of "losing the things he had wrought." He knew that the way to heaven was narrow, from the entrance to the end of it; but he was persuaded that Christ was with him, walking in the way, and that he would never leave him nor forsake him. As these extraordinary, and seemingly contradic- tory qualities, were not imparted to him but by the Spirit of God, so they were not strengthened and ma- tured but in the diligent use of the ordinary means of grace. Prayer and the Holy Scriptures were those wells of salvation out of which he drew daily the living water. Truly did he "pray always, with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, and watch thereunto with all perseverance." Being " transformed 438 MEMOIR OF by the renewing of his mind," he was also ever " pro- ving what was that good and acceptable and perfect will of God." The Sabbath, that sacred portion of time set apart for holy purposes in paradise itself, was so employed by him as to prove frequently a paradise to his soul on earth ; and as certainly prepared him for an end- less state of spiritual enjoyment hereafter. By " daily weighing the Scriptures," with prayer, he "waxed riper and riper in his ministry," in the execu- tion of which divine office there was in him an asto- nishing determination of soul for the glory of his Sa- vior, who " allowed him to be put in trust with the Gospel." Of the exceeding privileges of his holy func- tion, and of its awful responsibility, he had the most vivid impression ; and such was his jealousy of omit- ting any duty connected with it, that he deemed the work of translating the Scriptures themselves no justi- fiable plea for inattention to any of its more immediate and direct engagements. Reviewing frequently his ordination vows, in that affecting service in which they were originally made, he became more and more anx- ious to promote the honor of his Redeemer, by preach- ing his Gospel. This, indeed, was the great end for which existence seemed desirable in his eyes ; to effect which he spent much time in preparing his discourses for the pulpit; investigating the subject before him with profound meditation, and perpetual supplication to the Father of Lights. Uiilis lectio — utilis erudiiio — sed magis unclio necessaria, quippe quce. docet de omnibus* — were the sentiments of his heart. When, • St. Bernard. — Reading is useful, learning is useful, but HENRY MARTYN. 439 therefore, he stood up and addressed his hearers on the entire depravity of man — on the justification of the soul by faith in Jesus Christ — on the regenerating and progressively sanctifying influences of the Spirit ; when "knowing the terrors of the Lord," he persuaded them to accept the offers of salvation ; or when he be- sought them, by the mercies of God, to present their bodies to Him, as a living sacrifice; he spake "with uncorruptness, gravity, sincerity, with sound words that could not be condemned ;" and none who knew their souls to be guilty, helpless, accountable, immor- tal, could listen to his preaching unmoved. In the delivery of his discourses, his natural manner was not good ; there being a defect in his enunciation ; this, however, was more than compensated by the solemni- ty, affection, and earnestness of his address. It should be added, also, that as practical subjects were discussed by him with constant reference to the peculiar doc- trines of the Gospel, so likewise all doctrinal points were declared practically, with a view to self-applica- tion rather than to disquisition. No one, as it regarded all doctrine, could enter more completely into the spirit of those words, both for himself and others : — Malo senlire compiinctionem qudm scire ejus definiiionem.* With an intense anxiety to save souls, Mr. Martyn had an implicit reliance on that grace which alone can make men wise unto salvation. He was deeply con- unction is far more necessarj^, because it gives instruction in regard to all points. * I had rather feel corapunction, than know how to de- fine it. 440 MEMOIR OF scious that it is " God that giveth the increase;" and when he did not see, or thought he did not see, that increase, he meekly submitted to the divine will, and patiently continued in well doing. At such times, also/ more particularly would he turn, with joyful thank- fulness, to the contemplation of the successful labors of his brethren in the ministry ; for he had no mean and unholy envy respecting them ; nor had he what is so often allied to it, an arrogant or domineering tem- per towards his flock. His ambition was to be a helper of their joy ; he had no desire to have dominion over their faith. Too much had he of that beautiful part of a minister's character, a spirit which would sympa- thize with the poor and afflicted amongst his people, to court the appellation of Rabbi, or dogmatize with the air of a master in Israel. He was one of those little ones, of whom Christ affirms, that whosoever receiveth them, receiveth him. To no one, indeed, would he give occasion to despise him ; but all the dignity to which he aspired was to be their servant among whom he labored for Jesus' sake. " A more perfect charac- ter," says Rev. Dr. Corrie, who bore the burden and heat of the day with him in India, "I never met with, nor expect to see on earth. During the four years we were fellow-laborers in this country, I had no less than six opportunities of enjoying his company; and every opportunity only increased my love and veneration for him." With respect to his labors, his own "works praise him in the gates," far above all human commendation. By him, and by his means, part of the Liturgy of the Church of England, the Parables and the whole of the HENRY MARTYN. 441 New Testament, were translated into Hindoostanee a language spoken from Delhi to Cape Comorin, and in- telligible to many millions of immortal souls. By him, and by his means, also, the Psalms of David and the New Testament were rendered into Persian, the ver- nacular language of two hundred thousand who bear the Christian name, and known over one fourth of the habitable globe. By him, also, the imposture of the prophet of Mecca was boldly exposed, and the truths of Christianity openly vindicated in the very heart and center of a Mohammedan empire. If success be demanded, it is replied, that this is not the inquiry with Him " of whom are all things," either in this world or in that which is to come. With Him the question is this: What has been aimed at? what has been intended in singleness of heart ? God, however, has not left Mr. Martyn without wit- ness in the hearts of those who heard him in Europe and in Asia. Above forty of the Hindoos have profess- ed faith in Christ ; all of whom, with the exception of a single individual, were converted by the instrumen- tality of one man,* who was himself the fruit of Mr. Martyn's ministry at Cawnpore. At Shiraz a sensa- tion has been excited which it is trusted will not readily subside ; and some Mohammedans of conse- quence there have declared their conviction of the truth of Christianity— a conviction which Mr. Martyn was the means of imparting to their minds. But when it is considered that the Persian and Hindoostanee Scriptures are in wide and extensive circulation, who * Abdooi Messeeh. 442 MEMOIR OF can ascertain the consequences which may have al- ready followed, or foresee what may hereafter accrue from their dispersion? In this respect it is not per- haps too much to apply to Mr. Martyn those words, which once had an impious application: "Ex quo nunc etiam per magnos didita gentes, "Dulcia permulcent animos solatia vitse."— Lucret.* Nor is this example which he has left behind him, to be laid out of our account in estimating the effects of his holy and devoted life. He doubtless forsook all for Christ; he loved not his life unto the death. He followed the steps of Zeigenbalg in the old world, and of Brainerd in the new ; and whilst he walks with them in white — for he is worthy — he speaks, by his example, to us, who are still on our warfare and pil- grimage upon earth. For surely as long as the church, of which he was so great an ornament, shall live, as long as India shall prize that which is more precious to her than all her gems and gold — the name of the subject of this memoir, as a translator of the Scriptures and of the Liturgy, will mt wholly be forgotten ; and whilst some shall delight to gaze upon the splendid sepulcher of Xavier, and others choose rather to pon- der over the granite stone which covers all that was mortal of Swartz; there will not be wanting those who will think of the humble and unfrequented grave of Henry Martyn, and be led to imitate those v/orks of mercy which have followed him into the world of light and love. * From whom even now the sweet solaces of life, diffused through mighty nations, soothe the passious of men. HENRY MARTYN. 443 The following testimony of an intelligent Persian at Shiraz, who gave evidence of real piety, appeared in the Asiatic Journal for March, 1S30. " In the year 1223 (of the Hegira) there came to this city an Englishman, who taught the religion of Christ with a boldness hitherto unparalleled in Persia, in the midst of much scorn and ill-treatment from our Moollahs, as well as the rabble. He was a beardless youth, and evidently enfeebled by disease. He dwelt among us for more than a year. I was then a decided enemy to Infidels, as the Christians are termed by the follov/ers of Mohammed ; and I visited this teacher of the despised sect with the declared object of treating hira with scorn, and exposing his doctrines to con- tempt. Although I persevered for some time in this beha- vior to him, I found that every intervieAV not only increas- ed my respect for the individual, but diminished my conli- *3ence in the faith in which I was educated. His extreme ibrbearance toward the violence of his opponents, the calm and yet convincing manner in which he exposed the falla- cies and sophistries by which he was assailed — for he spoke Persian excellently — gradually inclined me to listen to his arguments, to inquire dispassionately into the subject of them, and finally to read a Tract which he had written in reply to a defence of Islamism by our chief Moollahs. Need I detain you longer'? The result of my examination was a conviction that the young disputant was right. Shame, or rather fear, withheld me from avowing this opinion. I even avoided the society of the Christian teacher, though he re- mained in the city .so long. Just before he quitted Shiraz, I could not refrain from payir^g him a farewell visit. Our conversation — the memory of it will never fade from the tablet of my mind — sealed my conversion. He gave me a book — it has ever been my constant companion — the study 444 MEMOIR OF HENRY MARTYN* of it has formed my most delightful occupation — its con- tents have often consoled me." Upon this (says the English gentleman to whom the above was communicated) he put into my hands a copy of the New Testament in Persian. On one of the blank leaves was written — " ' There is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth ' — Henry Martyn." TBS BND« DATE DUE GAYLORD #3523PI Printed in US> 1