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THfc LiSRABY 
 OF THE 
 
 U^lVt^SlTY OF iLLIHOIS 
 
 
 
 
J^ul/Ushed by Perkins b: PPirvin-, Poston, 1S31 
 
A MEMOIR 
 
 OF 
 
 THE REV. HENRY MARTYN, B. D. 
 
 LATE FELLOW OF 8T. JOHN’s COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, 
 
 AND CHAPLAIN TO THE HONORABLE EAST INDIA COMPANY, 
 
 BY THE REV. JO HN SARGE NT. M. A. 
 
 RECTOR OF LAVINGTON. 
 
 FROM THE TENTH LONDON EDITION, 
 
 CORRECTED AND ENLARGED. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTORY ESSAY AND AN APPENDIX, 
 BY THE AMERICAN EDITOR. 
 
 THE IISSSH? OF THE 
 
 SSSttfon. 
 
 M 10'?'' 
 
 VIEW OP TOCAT. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY PERKINS & MARVIN. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: FRENCH & PERKINS. 
 
 1833 
 
Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1832; 
 By Perkins & Marvin, 
 
 in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 

 CONTENTS. 
 
 Preface to the American Edition, ........ i v 
 
 Advertisement to the London Edition, xi 
 
 Preface to the tenth London Edition, xiii 
 
 Introductory Essay, . . xv 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Early life of Henry Martyn — His successful academical career, . * . 61 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 His advancement in piety — College employments — Decides on becom- 
 ing a Missionary—- His ordination, 75 
 
 CHAPTER HI. 
 
 Commencement of his Ministerial labors — Collegiate duties — Applies 
 for a Chaplainship under the East India Company— Visits Corn- 
 wall — His sufferings on leaving England, 102 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Departure from England— Occurrences during his Voyage— at St. Sal- 
 vador— and at the Cape of Good Hope— Arrives at Madras— and 
 at Calcutta, 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Mr. Martyn^s arrival at Calcutta^Residence at Aldeen— Preaches at 
 Calcutta — Is appointed to Dinapore — Leaves Calcutta— Journal of 
 his voyage up the Hoogley and Ganges, 193 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Mr. Martyn is fixed at Dinapore — Commences his Ministry— Transla- 
 tions*— Disputes with his Moonshee and Pundit — Difficulties respect- 
 ing the Schools — His happiness in the work of Translation, . . . 220 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Mr. Martyn receives intelligence of the death of his eldest Sister^ 
 Letters to his friends — Is removed to Cawnpore — Hears of the 
 death of his youngest Sister — Determines to visit Arabia and 
 Persia— Leaves Cawnpore for Calcutta— Departs for Arabia, . . 256 
 
 6-1 259 J 
 
IV 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Mr. Martyn leaves Bengal for Shiraz— Occurrences during his journey 
 —Arrives at Shiraz— Commences a New Translation— Discussions 
 with the Persian Mooli ahs, 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 First Public Discussion at Shiraz— Mr. Martyn replies to a Defence of 
 Mohammedanism — Interview with the head of the Soofies— Visits 
 Persepolis— Translations — Discussions, 334 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Mr. Martyn leaves Shiraz in order to lay before the king his Transla- 
 tion of the New Testament — Arrives at the camp — Is not admitted 
 to an audience — ^Proceeds to Tebriz— Severe Illness, . • . . . 375 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Mr. Martyn commences his journey homewards, by way of Constanti- 
 nople — Visits Echmiadzin — Suffers from fever— Dies at Tocat, in 
 
 Persia — ^View of his Character— Conclusion, * . . 395 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Note A. Rev. William Carey, D. D. . 425 
 
 B* Dr. Vanderkemp, . . * 427 
 
 C. Christian Frederick Swartz, 428 
 
 D. The Hegira, 430 
 
 E. Rev. David Brown, 431 
 
 F. East India Company, 433 
 
 G. Nathaniel Sabat, 434 
 
 H. Rev. T. T. Thomason, ....... i .... . 435 
 
 I. Mr. Martyn^s Sermon, 436 
 
 J. Missions at Bombay,- 437 
 
 K. Shiraz, 438 
 
 L. Soofeeism, 439 
 
 M. Martyn^s Controversial Tracts, 440 
 
 N. Ruins of Persepolis, . 443 
 
 O. Translation of a letter from his Persian Majesty to Sir Gore 
 
 Ouseley, Bart ; 444 
 
 P. Armenians, 445 
 
 Q. Visit of the American Missionaries, . . - 446 
 
 R. Abdool Messeeh, 460 
 
 S. Results of the Visit of Martyn to Persia, . 461 
 
ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 
 
 Eleven editions of the following Memoir have been 
 published in England, and eight or nine in this country. 
 In an abridged form, also, it has been widely circulated 
 as a Sabbath school book. One edition, at least, has 
 been published in the French language. The tenth aad 
 eleventh English editions contain a number of passages 
 from the private journal of Martyn, which were not 
 inserted in any previous edition. They will be found in 
 this volume. In the Appendix, we have collected such 
 notes and observations, particularly in regard to Persia, 
 and the effects of Mr. Martyn’s residence in that country, 
 as we thought would give additional value to the volume. 
 Such notes as the American Editor is responsible for, are 
 marked E. In the course of the year 1830, the Rev. 
 Messrs. Eli Smith, and H. G. O. Dwight, American 
 missionaries, in their tour through Western Asia, visited 
 the grave of Martyn, in the Armenian cemetery at Tocat, 
 and kindly copied for us the inscription placed on his 
 tombstone, which we here insert. The philanthropic 
 Englishman, who caused the erection of the monument, 
 was Claudius James Rich, Esq. the former distinguished 
 English resident at Bagdad. The author has mistaken 
 the Christian name of Martyn. The letter in Gugli- 
 1 * 
 
VI 
 
 elmo is the Italian form. Berisae is the ancient name of 
 Tocat. 
 
 REV. VIR. 
 
 GUG. MARTINO, 
 
 SAGER. AC. MISS. ANGLO 
 QUEM IN PATR. REDI. 
 
 DOMINUS 
 
 HIC BERISiE AD SB. VOC, 
 
 PIUM D. FIDEL Q. SER. 
 
 A. D. MDCCCXII. 
 
 HUNG LAP. CON SAC. 
 
 C. J. R. 
 
 A. D. MDCCCXIII. 
 
 We give the inscription without abbreviation. 
 
 Reverendo Viro, Guglielmo [Henrico] Martino, Sacerdoti ac Mis- 
 sionario, Anglo, quern, in Patriam rediturum, Dominus hie, Berisse, 
 ad suam beatudinem vocavit, pium, doctum, fidelemque servum, 
 A. D. MDCCCXII. Hunc lapidem consecravit sacrum C. J. R. 
 
 A. D. MDCCCXIII. 
 
 Since the first edition of this Memoir was issued, we 
 have had the pleasure of receiving letters from the Rev. 
 Messrs. Smith and Dwight, extracts from which we here 
 insert. 
 
 “ It would be gratifying to me,” says Mr. Smith, to add the little 
 stock of testimony to Martyn’s usefulness in Persia in my possession, 
 but my health will allow me to say but a word. It happened to be 
 my lot to be attended by the same physician in Tebriz, who attended 
 upon him when he was sick at the same place and of the same dis- 
 ease. The physician, and all who mentioned his name, spoke in the 
 highest terms of his character as a Christian, a companion, and a 
 scholar. 
 
 “ One anecdote was related to us, strikingly illustrative of that 
 Christian independence which formed so decided a trait in his char- 
 acter. The ambassador, at whose house he was in the habit of 
 performing divine service on the Sabbath, sent to him one Sabbath 
 morning that he wished it to be omitted that day, as he intended to 
 call upon the prince. Marty n immediately returned an answer, that 
 earthly princes could be seen any day, but the Sovereign into whose 
 
vii 
 
 presence it was the duty of his office to conduct him, had appointed 
 that day for their audience. 
 
 We were pleased to find the work upon which his heart was so 
 much set, the Persian New Testament, approved of, and finding its 
 way even into remote parts. We were assured by a gentleman, who 
 is the best Persian scholar among the English in Persia, that it is 
 faithful to the original and in good Persian. The British and Foreign 
 Bible Society have recently printed it in type of an acceptable form, 
 and it is slowly getting into circulation among the better educated 
 classes in Tebriz. Not only is it not objected to by the people, or 
 their moollahs, but they profess to entertain the greatest respect for 
 it as the word of God. A countryman of ours, (another Ledyard,) 
 who had already travelled several years in Cabul, Candahar, the 
 Penjab, and other regions on the Indus, on leaving Tebriz, just 
 before we arrived, for more extensive researches in the same part of 
 the world, put three copies of Martyn’s Testament, (all that he could 
 carry, as he travelled on foot,) and a few religious tracts, in his 
 pocket, hoping to exchange them for old Greek manuscripts, which 
 he had occasionally seen there, and supposed to be relics of the 
 Greek colony of Bactria. One of the pilgrims, who were leaving 
 
 Tebriz for Mecca when we arrived, obtained of Mr. a copy of 
 
 Martyn’s Testament to carry with him on his pilgrimage. May it 
 prove that on his way he found Jesus Christ to be the chief corner 
 stone, and was washed from his sins in his blood, so as no longer to 
 trust in the stone of the Kauba, or seek purification from the water of 
 Zemzem. It is delightful to see the work of such a man, and that 
 work a translation of the word of God, penetrating, even by single 
 copies, into such a centre of superstition as Mecca, and such a region 
 of robbery and ignorance as the Upper Indus ; both almost equally 
 inaccessible.” 
 
 The preceding letter was dated at Malta, Oct. 11, 
 1831. That of Mr. Dwight, an extract from which foh 
 lows, bears date Oct. 12, 1831. 
 
 With regard to the disease which carried the beloved Martyn to 
 the grave, it is the general opinion of the English at Tebriz, includ- 
 ing the physician who attended him while there, that it was the 
 intermittent fever ; and with this opinion I am now strongly inclined 
 to concur. The extreme debility to which this disease sometimes 
 reduces the constitution, I most painfully witnessed in the case of 
 brother Smith ; and the physician above alluded to told me, that 
 while Martyn was at his house, he was at one time reduced very 
 
Vlll 
 
 low, so as to be considered in a very critical state. Before he left 
 Tebriz, he appeared to be quite restored, but, from his own brief 
 journal, it is evident, that this disease speedily returned, and clung 
 to him to the last, as far as his own account goes, and this with 
 
 every circumstance calculated to aggravate the disease. Dr. C 
 
 says, that, in a letter written to him by Martyn after he left Tebriz, 
 he states, that, in riding through the bazars of that city, on his way 
 out to commence his journey, he saw some very fine grapes, and, 
 
 ‘ thinking,’ says he, ‘ that a spliced rope is stronger than one that 
 has never been broken, I ventured to eat of them freely.’ To this 
 he attributed his relapse. 
 
 One of the tracts which Martyn wrote while in Persia, and 
 circulated in manuscript, contained twelve questions to Moham- 
 medans concerning their faith, with a declaration that if any of 
 them would furnish satisfactory answers, he would himself em- 
 brace their religion. When the Mohammedans first read this tract, 
 they began to triumph exceedingly, with the confident expectation 
 that a satisfactory answer would be given, and that thus their pow- 
 erful antagonist would be ensnared. The tract was sent around the 
 country to all the distinguished moollahs, but none was found who 
 dared attempt a reply, and the result was likely to prove so injurious 
 to the Mohammedan cause, that the chief moojtahid wrote to the king 
 on the subject, and a decree was secretly promulgated, ordering the 
 seizure of all the tracts, and forbidding their perusal on pain of 
 death ! The present acting ambassador at Tebriz told us that he had 
 tried in vain, in every part of Persia, to procure a copy of that tract. 
 
 “ I beg leave to state a few facts illustrative of the private char- 
 acter of Martyn, which I obtained from the physician, already 
 frequently noticed, in whose house Martyn resided while at Tebriz. 
 He remarked that, in conversation, Martyn was a most captivating 
 man ; full of animation and sprightliness, and ever glowing with 
 pious zeal. Every body who was in his company five minutes, not 
 only felt his superiority, but loved him. The Persians were in the 
 habit of visiting him daily while he was in Tebriz, when he was 
 well enough to receive them, and he always conversed with them in 
 the most pleasant manner, and generally with effect. They were 
 hardly ever able to reply to him at the time, and they would gener- 
 ally tell him that they would think of his arguments, and bring him 
 an answer at some future day. They would frequently give him 
 written replies to his arguments, and immediately afterwards come 
 and beg him to return to them their manuscripts, as they were not 
 satisfied with them themselves, and at the same time promising to 
 do better the next time, which time never came. 
 
 Martyn never lost his relish for philological studies. When he 
 
IX 
 
 was recovering from the effects of his fever at Tebriz, though 
 still weak, he used to employ himself in making short translations 
 from one language into another, in comparing the grammars of dif- 
 ferent languages, &c. &c. One day Dr. C , finding him thus 
 
 employed, told him he was afraid he would fatigue himself by such 
 constant mental application. ‘ O no,’ said he ; ‘ occupation is a 
 great relief to me. Nothing fatigues me so much as to be obliged 
 to lie on that couch all the day unemployed.’ 
 
 “ We were once walking through the bazars in Tebriz, when we 
 saw a number of books for sale in one of the stalls. The vendor 
 was a Mohammedan } and we were interested to notice, among the 
 first books that he brought forward, a copy of MartyrCs translation of 
 the JVeio Testament. An English gentleman in Tebriz, who is in the 
 habit of distributing copies of the Testament, and tracts in the dif- 
 ferent languages of the country, informed us that he had almost 
 daily application for the Persian Testament, and his stock was 
 exhausted, so that he could no longer meet the demand. One day, 
 while we were there, a Mohammedan merchant, who had distributed 
 some tracts at this gentleman’s request, called and requested a copy 
 
 of the Testament. Mr. gave him one, but, knowing that he 
 
 had been trying to prejudice the minds of the people against the 
 tracts, at the same time that he circulated them, charged him not to 
 speak evil of that book, as it is the word of God. The Mohammedan, 
 holding the Testament in his hand, asked, ‘ Is this the gospel ?’ 
 
 Mr. replying in the affirmative, he said, ‘ Then I regard it as 
 
 sacredly as I do the Koran, and I can never put it below here,’ 
 pointing to his girdle, ^ or dare to speak disrespectfully of it.’ The 
 Mohammedans, you know, all profess to receive the gospel on the 
 authority of the Koran, but they generally declare our copies of this 
 sacred book corrupted, chiefly on account of the doctrines of the 
 Trinity and the divinity of Christ.” 
 
 In this third enlarged edition of the Life of Martyn, no 
 material alterations have been made. A few verbal and 
 literal errors have been corrected, particularly in the spell- 
 ing of the proper names, in the last part of the volume. 
 
 Boston^ July, 1833. 
 
 B. B. E. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT, 
 
 Before the reader proceeds to the perusal of the fol- 
 lowing Memoir, it may be proper to inform him, that the 
 first and second parts of it have been chiefly selected from 
 various journals, which Mr. Martyn 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 third part 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 
 original 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. 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. Martyn’s executors, in the year 1814. ‘ The 
 
 Narrative,* which was sent, by Mr. Morier, from Con« 
 
XU 
 
 stantinople, 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 
 endeavored as much as possible to let Mr. Martyn speak 
 for himself, and thus to exhibit a genuine picture of his 
 own mind. 
 
 In making a selection from a mass of such valuable 
 matter, it has been my anxious wish and sincere prayer, 
 that it might prove subservient to the interests of true 
 religion. One principal object with me has been, to 
 render it beneficial to those disinterested ministers of the 
 Gospel, who, “ with the Bible in their hand, and their 
 Saviour in their hearts,” devote themselves to the great 
 cause for which Mr. Martyn 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 dif- 
 ficulties of their arduous course, my labor will receive an 
 eminent and abundant recompense. 
 
 J. S. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE TENTH LONDON EDITION. 
 
 In a Tenth Edition it certainly is tardy — at any 
 period it probably would have been fruitless — to attempt 
 the counteraction of an impression not uncommon with 
 the reader ; — that the subject of this work was of a gloomy 
 temperament, and that his religion assumed a desponding 
 character. Late, however, as the declaration is, — ineffec- 
 tual as perhaps it will be, — I am anxious to testify, from 
 intimate personal knowledge, that this opinion is founded 
 in complete misconception. Few persons, if any, known 
 to me, have equalled him in the enjoyment of that peace 
 which passeth all understanding,’’ — few have possessed 
 so animating and abiding an expectation of life and im- 
 mortality. Those who are disposed to question this 
 statement, from the strain of deep self-abasement which 
 he perpetually adopts, — do in my judgment convert what 
 is a substantial proof of the assertion, into an ill-founded 
 objection. Such at all events was the fact : I 
 can appeal to many living witnesses ; they can confirm 
 what is advanced ; they also with me can aver, that 
 Henry Martyn was not less cheerful as a companion, than 
 he was warm-hearted and constant as a friend. 
 
 Those who imagine that a smile scarcely ever played 
 upon his countenance, — that his manner was cold and 
 forbidding, would have been startled at hearing his hearty 
 2 
 
XIV 
 
 laugh, which still sounds in my ears, and in seeing little 
 children climbing his knees, affording him a pleasure as 
 great as they themselves received. That his natural 
 temper was more irritable than I supposed, is plain from 
 the story of the knife, p. 66, which I at first disbelieved, 
 but have since ascertained to be true. Of the tender- 
 ness of his heart — in addition to the evidences before 
 given, there is a touching one, p. 300, which, whilst his 
 beloved Persis” was yet amongst us, could not so well 
 be published. For the previous non-insertion of that 
 golden passage, p. 271, I have only one excuse, — the dis- 
 tracting richness of his voluminous journals. Many 
 masses of ore, and not mere filings, are still necessarily 
 left behind. I will only add that I cannot enough deplore 
 the unaccountable loss of the introduction to that sermon 
 preached by him on ship-board, on the awful subject of 
 eternal punishment. The preference it expresses for 
 other topics of discourse, — the reluctance it avows in 
 bringing forward the painful one then under considera- 
 tion, — the motives it exhibits — love and concern for those 
 whom he addressed, — would convince those who may 
 have suspected him of harshness, that if on this occasion 
 he used the lancet, it was not till he had concealed it 
 in the sponge.” In the absence of the document itself, 
 my testimony, I hope, to the above effect, will not be dis- 
 credited. 
 
 J. S. 
 
 
 Lavington, April 12, 1830. 
 
INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. 
 
 In taking up the biography of such a man as 
 Henry Martyn, it is important to inquire. What are 
 the benefits which we expect to derive from its pe- 
 rusal? What is the voice which comes from these 
 pages, and which should enter our hearts? Many, 
 doubtless, read the book as they would a fictitious 
 narrative, without analysis, and without reflection. 
 A momentary impression of the exalted worth of 
 Martyn’s character is produced, to mingle with former 
 associations still more ambiguous and shadowy. The 
 mind is not enlightened. The heart is not deeply im- 
 pressed. No resolutions, in the strength of the Lord 
 Jesus, are formed, to follow in the steps of him who 
 is now with the spirits of the just made perfect. In 
 this way, one of the most precious means of grace is 
 squandered. We are left in the darkness and damp- 
 ness of earth, while we have seen our brother ascend- 
 ing from earth to heaven. 
 
 Of the multiplied religious biographies of the present 
 day, some are adapted to produce a deep and abiding 
 effect ; and it is surely worthy of serious inquiry, Why 
 do they not greatly increase the piety of individual 
 
XVI 
 
 Christians, and the spiritual power of the Church ? 
 Why is not the whole body of believers allured to that 
 world, whither so many Enochs and Elijahs have led 
 the way ? 
 
 One of the principal answers to these inquiries is, 
 neglect of prayer. How can a Canaanite enter into the 
 temple of the Lord ? How can a heathen find admission' 
 into the holy of holies ? How can a worldly man sym- 
 pathize with the joys and sorrows of an eminent Chris- 
 tian ? He cannot go up with him to the mount of 
 blessedness, nor descend into the valley of humiliation, 
 because his feelings are so sensual, and his views so 
 gross and narrow. When we read the memoirs of 
 Pearce or Martyn, we should recollect that it is a spirit^ 
 ual work. In deep seriousness, we should look to God 
 for that blessing without which our labor will be in vain. 
 We should earnestly beseech him so to enlighten our 
 path, and strengthen our resolution, that we may discern 
 and follow the things which were excellent in His ser- 
 vant. The divine Spirit alone can form and nourish 
 within us holy purposes. The man who does not pray 
 fi’equently and fervently, must expect that all the im- 
 pressions which he shall receive, will be evanescent and 
 fruitless. 
 
 Another cause of the failure of biographical works to 
 produce their appropriate results is, that we put them in 
 the place of the Scriptures. When we are deeply in- 
 terested in a human production, the temptation to under- 
 value and neglect the Bible is very great. We turn 
 from the all-absorbing pages of the memoir to the 
 Psalms and Evangelists, with indifference or strong 
 reluctance. But we cannot derive from any book 
 much spiritual benefit, unless we give the Scriptures 
 
xvir 
 
 the first place. We may well estimate the value of 
 a book, according to the relish which it gives us for 
 the Bible. On this point, we must exercise the 
 strictest vigilance. We ought instantly to renounce 
 the book, whatever it may be, which leads us to slight 
 the sacred volume, and not to return to it, till 
 the pearl of great price is supreme in our affections, 
 as well as in the decisions of our judgment. No pro- 
 duction of man, however enchanting its descriptions, 
 or rich its ideas, or spiritual its piety, can, for a mo- 
 ment, compare with the thoughts of heaven.’’ The 
 Bible furnishes us with rules of judgment for all other 
 books, and helps us to examine them in the clear light 
 of truth, and with those affections of heart, which will 
 enable us to derive from them the greatest benefit. 
 
 Another fact of frequent occurrence is inattention 
 to the springs of action, by which the subject of the 
 memoir was influenced. We look at the effects, but 
 not at the cause ; at the results, but not at the process. 
 We are willing to partake of the joy, but not of the 
 conflict. We observe expressions of firm trust in 
 God, of sweet reliance on the Saviour,, of longing 
 desires for heavenly happiness, and we wish that 
 we could feel thus, and we almost think that we 
 do. But we are deceived. We have not that 
 
 state of heart from which those desires and aspirations 
 flowed. We have not gone thraugh the preparatory 
 discipline. Consequently, we soon relapse to our 
 former coldness and indifference. But let us not 
 look at the bright results only. Let us gaze on these 
 servants of Christ, while, with bleeding hands, and 
 weary steps, and palpitating heart, they are making 
 their way through the enemy’s country. We should 
 2 * 
 
xviii 
 
 look on Henry Martyn, not only while on Tabor be- 
 holding the visions of God, or ascending from Tocat 
 to his mansion in glory, but at Henry Martyn pros- 
 trating himself in his closet, struggling with temptation 
 in the college-hall, quitting Cambridge, and closing 
 his eyes forever upon literary distinction, and family 
 friendship, and native country. 
 
 We do not look enough at the sober realities of the 
 case. Our feelings and our imagination being strongly 
 excited, we pant to follow Howard to his dungeons, 
 and Clarkson to the holds of his slave-ship, and 
 Martyn to his couch of lowly sleep on the plains of 
 Asia. But are we willing to be philanthropists on a 
 small scale ? Are we willing to relieve the distress in 
 our own neighborhood ? If we are not willing to do 
 good in our own country, there is little reason to hope 
 that we should be if transported to Shiraz or Bombay. 
 Martyn had visited the sick in an obscure village of 
 England, and had instructed sailors on ship-board, 
 before he vindicated the deity of the Son of God in 
 presence of the wise men of the East. English 
 prisoners had felt the effects of Howard’s compas- 
 sion, before his footsteps were seen or his name 
 known in other lands. It may be that God does not 
 require us to be Howards or Martyns, Wilberforces or 
 Buchanans. We are not called to carry bread to the 
 inmates of a prison, nor the gospel to lands of pa- 
 ganism. But he does require of us to do good in our 
 appropriate sphere, and to the extent of our ability. 
 We are not to be disheartened, because we cannot at- 
 tain to the same high distinctions in benevolent effort as 
 some of our more gifted fellow Christians. We ought 
 to read a biography, in order that we may transfer the 
 
XlX 
 
 faith and hope, the humility and the zeal, the unshrink- 
 ing firmness, and the undying love of the individual in 
 question, to our own bosoms, and to our own employ- 
 ment. In an important sense, we may be Howards 
 every where. Circumstances are ever varying. 
 Principles are always the same. 
 
 To no memoir will the preceding remarks more 
 strikingly apply, than to that of Martyn. We have 
 long thought that it is one of the most delightful and 
 finished specimens of biography in the language. Mr. 
 Sargent has executed his task with great judgment and 
 ability. Many memoirs have the radical defect, that 
 they are not the record of the life of the professed 
 subject only, but of the biographer, and of his friends. 
 Their connection with him is not left to be inferred by 
 the faithfulness of the delineation, but it is apparent 
 and prominent every where. But Mr. Sargent has 
 left us to contemplate the lovely picture of Martyn’s 
 virtues, as expressed in his own simple and affecting 
 language. The compiler does not digress to give a 
 treatise on a branch of ethics, or a lecture in church 
 history, or a discourse upon Sunday schools ; but he 
 goes on uninterruptedly with the great purpose of his 
 narrative. If he makes an occasional remark, it is in 
 the fine taste of the scholar, and with the seriousness 
 of a Christian minister. He had, truly, committed 
 to him a most important trust, for the deeds of Henry 
 Martyn are more than a matter of history. They are 
 engraven on the hearts of thousands in every quarter 
 of the earth. They furnish the frequent illustration 
 for the Christian journalist, and the radiant example 
 for the Christian preacher. Mothers, as they have 
 laid their infant sons to rest^ have breathed th^ fervent 
 
XX 
 
 aspiration that the mantle of the beloved Martyn might 
 fall on them. In the college-hall, his name has kin- 
 dled in the bosom of many a scholar, the irrepressible 
 desire to tread in his steps. Unless we are altogether 
 mistaken, the influence of this memoir has but just 
 commenced. Future and millennial ages will read 
 with delight the story of this missionary of the cross. 
 In comprehensiveness of plans, and fervency of desire, 
 for the promotion of human happiness, Martyn was 
 altogether in advance of his age. His name will be 
 cherished in sweeter remembrance, when men have 
 more love and devotedness to his Lord and Re- 
 deemer. 
 
 One consideration in support of this remark is, that 
 Mr. Martyn possessed eminent learning in connection 
 with eminent piety. His thorough education gave him 
 a character wherever he went. His name was a 
 very humble one, and his family was scarcely known 
 out of Cornwall. He had no powerful titled friends 
 to commend him to public confidence. But it was 
 known that he was an indefatigable scholar. He was 
 known as the man who never lost an hour. This fact 
 allayed prejudice, conciliated esteem, and opened 
 before him spheres of usefulness, which a man of im- 
 perfect education would not have discovered, or would 
 have in vain tried to enter. 
 
 His severe mental discipline was also of high im- 
 portance, as an auxiliary to his studies. It enabled 
 him to seize the great principles of a subject, to reject 
 decisively unimportant circumstances, and to bring the 
 whole force of his mind upon that which was essential 
 and enduring. When he applied himself to the study 
 of a foreign language,^ be could comprehend its gram- 
 
xxi 
 
 matical structure, and its principles. He did not 
 waste his time in pursuing philological trifles. The 
 study of the Principia had girded his mental constitu- 
 tion with energy, and enabled him to grapple in argu- 
 ment with the wily Mohammedan, and to unravel the 
 sophistry of the captious Moolah. 
 
 His education also gave him confidence in his own 
 ability. He had been tried in the severe ordeal of 
 college-competition. Those excrescences of char- 
 acter, which are a hinderance and mortification to an 
 undisciplined mind, he had cut off or worn away. 
 That self-possession, which is the result of a disciplined 
 mind, supplied him with the power of accomplishing 
 his purpose, when unexpected difficulties were gath- 
 ering around him. His mental powers were trained 
 to obey. Whether he was reasoning with a Catholic 
 friar; or debating with a Brahmin ; or sharpening his 
 logical acumen with the imaginative Soofie, he was 
 collected, firm, ready. In patience he possessed his 
 mind as well as his heart. 
 
 A still more important benefit resulting from his 
 mental discipline was, his increased ability to control 
 his affections, to practise the self-denial of the gospel, 
 and to attain to the flill measure of his Christian call- 
 ing. Before he commenced the practice of daily 
 meditation on some selected, scriptural topic, he had 
 acquired the power of close and concentrated atten- 
 tion. He entered on the Christian warfare with signal 
 advantages. He could bring a cultivated intellect to 
 the contemplation of spiritual and abstract truth. In 
 resisting the temptations of eastern manners, and the 
 softness of eastern climates, his Cambridge studies 
 were of inestimable service. Martyn’s scholarship 
 
XXll 
 
 has been of eminent utility in increasing the influence 
 of his example. We know that he is sincere, when he 
 speaks of his determination to count all things loss 
 for Christ’s sake. He has estimated the value of the 
 sacrifice which he makes. Like Justin Martyr, he 
 has visited the schools of science, and been crowned 
 with their laurels, but he has returned dissatisfied. 
 The spoils which he has gathered in Greek and Ro- 
 man fields, he gladly lays down at the cross of his 
 Redeemer. This memoir has been read by mul- 
 titudes to whom its spiritual excellences presented no 
 attractions. They were won to the perusal of the 
 volume, by the proofs of scholarship, and the charms 
 of taste and genius, which are apparent on every 
 page. Here is a noble instance of the union of knowl- 
 edge and religion, of the compatibility of eminent 
 attainments in both. Here is the modesty of true 
 science, and the humility of true Christianity. 
 
 The harmonious cultivation of the moral and intel- 
 lectual powers, is a practical subject of very great im- 
 portance. Ardent zeal and undoubted sincerity, in a 
 religious profession, are sometimes associated with 
 palpable ignorance, or an apparently conscientious 
 opposition to the pursuits of taste and genius. On 
 the other hand, distinguished attainments in knowl- 
 edge are not seldom witnessed with a feeble faith and 
 languishing religious hopes. But eminent scholarship 
 is perfectly compatible with the possession of the most 
 distinguishing graces of the Christian. Who ever 
 possessed more of the humility and self-denial of the 
 gospel, than Boerhaaye, Buchanan, Martyn, Pascal ? 
 The way to attain this united power of holiness and 
 knowledge is very simple. Make it your supreme 
 
XXlll 
 
 object, every where, and in every thing, to live for 
 the glory of God in the salvation of men. This will 
 induce you, first of all, to secure for yourself a good 
 hope through grace. It will make you most consci- 
 entious in the employment of time. It will lead you 
 to estimate very highly the exalted endowments of 
 reason which God has given you, and cause you to 
 acquire those habits of self-denial, which are alike 
 important in mental and moral discipline. You will 
 so feel your obligations to the Saviour, as to wish to 
 serve him in the highest exercise of your understand- 
 ing. You will feel that you are to glorify him with 
 all your mind, as well as with all your heart. 
 
 In Martyn’s history, we see the value of tenderness 
 of conscience, as a constituent part of true piety. In 
 many Christians, who, in the main, appear to be sin- 
 cere, this feature is sadly wanting. Their conscience 
 does not testify against them in respect to a thousand 
 failures in duty, or the commission of a multitude of 
 what they call trivial errors. They have little Chris- 
 tian delicacy of feeling, and little nice perception of 
 right and wrong. But Martyn had an instinctive 
 shrinking from the least touch of defilement. He fol- 
 lowed his heart through all its windings, and probed it 
 to its deepest recesses. The least wandering of un- 
 holy desire, the slightest aberration from rigid pro- 
 priety, was brought to the bar of his conscience, and 
 confessed in bitterness of soul to God. If he indulged 
 himself in unnecessary relaxation, if he failed through 
 carelessness to circulate a tract, if he postponed any 
 duty on account of the self-denial attending it, his 
 soul was filled with remorse and sorrow. He ab- 
 horred himself on account of those sins, which 
 
xxiv 
 
 other Christians regard as trivial, or wholly overlook. 
 Like Paul, he made the most unremitted effort to bring 
 every thought into subjection to Christ, and to have 
 a conscience void of offence both towards God and 
 towards man. In this respect, how full of instruction 
 is his biography ! Every page reveals to us the cause 
 of his holy and sometimes exulting joy. Martyn lived 
 so that he could pray. His conscience did not harass 
 him as he approached the mercy seat. On the con- 
 trary, it aided him in his supplications to God, because 
 it testified to his sincerity, and bore witness with his 
 spirit that he was a child of God. He did not exhibit 
 that mournful spectacle of a religion, unfit either for 
 earth or heaven, — ^its subject too enlightened to com- 
 mit sin with impunity, but constantly falling under its 
 power, and not renewed unto a repentance of life, and 
 joy, and peace. 
 
 But, if we would enjoy the hope of the gospel, we 
 must have the conscience of the gospel. We must 
 look well to our small faults, and minor duties. We 
 must seek for an enlightened and tender conscience, as 
 one of the most unequivocal proofs of our high calling. 
 Perfection of Christian character does not consist in 
 doing two or three splendid actions in the course 
 of our life, but in the faithful and conscientious per- 
 formance of hourly and common duties. 
 
 Another fact which furnishes impressive practical 
 instruction is, the extent of the sacrifices to which 
 Martyn submitted for Christ’s sake. Perhaps there is 
 no instance of self-renunciation so entire, since the 
 days of early martyrdom. Martyn had a constitu- 
 tional temperament peculiarly susceptible of emotion. 
 Scenes and events which would not ruffle the equa- 
 
XXV 
 
 nimity of others, awakened in him the most poignant 
 pleasure or pain. One of the principal charms in his 
 character was, his exquisite sensibility to joy and to 
 sorrow. Buchanan and other missionaries have been 
 called to pass through the same scenes essentially, but 
 they had souls of a firmer texture. This should be 
 recollected, when we see Martyn leaving Cambridge, 
 sailing along the coast of Cornwall, encountering the 
 sneers of depraved soldiers and seamen, or the scorn 
 of Persian philosophers. 
 
 Martyn was a scholar. His enthusiasm in literary 
 pursuits was genuine and ardent, and his prospects of 
 honorable literary distinction at Cambridge, very 
 bright. He had been with Newton through the 
 heavens, with Butler in the profound depths of the 
 Analogy, and with Xenophon in his inimitable Retreat 
 of the Ten Thousand. But he brought his philosophy 
 and poetry, his history and his languages, and laid 
 them at the feet of his Saviour. He gathered the 
 fairest flowers of literature, and strowed them on the 
 ascent to Calvary. 
 
 No man loved his country more than Martyn. 
 None could sympathize more sincerely in those treas- 
 ured associations which will forever endear the land 
 of Wicliffe and Cranmer, Hampden and Sidney, to all 
 English hearts. The ties which bound him to the hills 
 and glens of Cornwall, were of the most cherished char- 
 acter. How he regarded his brothers and sisters, the 
 memoir testifies in a thousand places. In far distant 
 lands, oppressed with cares, and weak in body, he 
 poured out intercessions, night and day, for those 
 whom he had loved at his father’s fireside. His sor- 
 row at their death, the pen of a Pliny might well de- 
 3 
 
XXVI 
 
 scribe. But he renounced a still stronger affection. 
 An individual of distinguished worth, with whom it had 
 been happiness for him to have lived in any part of 
 the world, he left in England, to see her no more, on 
 this side the grave. It was, indeed, a renunciation 
 of all which is dear to the heart of man, and a cutting 
 in sunder of those cords which are entwined around 
 the innermost soul. Brother, scholar, companion, all 
 were merged in the exalted philanthropy, which filled 
 his soul. He looked upon the perishing millions of 
 India, and felt that there was his brother, and sister, 
 and mother. Mark the result , — a hundred, fold more 
 in this present time. The Saviour was with his ser- 
 vant on the coast of Cornwall, and on the stormy sea. 
 He calmed his burning brow on the sands of Arabia. 
 The everlasting arms of a Brother and Friend were 
 underneath him, when pale and sinking in death. 
 Like the beloved disciple, Martyn reposed on the 
 bosom of his Saviour, and spoke to him in prayer as 
 a present help. He confided all his hopes and cares 
 on the faithfulness of his Lord. He renounced all for 
 Christ, and found it to be unspeakable gain. This 
 was the secret of those joys, which were full of glory. 
 He loved the Father and the Son, and they came 
 unto him and made their abode with him. He emptied 
 himself of earthly hopes, and was filled with all the 
 fulness of God. His union to Christ was vital, in- 
 vigorating, endless. 
 
 Rarely has Christianity obtained a more signal 
 triumph. Look at Henry Martyn in the first years 
 of his college life, and at the same man at Portsmouth 
 on the eve of embarkation for India. Violent passions 
 had been changed into meekness itself. Perhaps the 
 
XXVll 
 
 state of mind, which is most adverse to the spirit of 
 the gospel, is that of an ambitious scholar. Literary- 
 ambition, in its appropriate sense, is a compound of 
 envy, jealousy, pride and meanness. Its name is 
 legion ; its presence in the soul, misery ; its conse- 
 quences, ruin to the best feelings of the heart, and 
 to the precious interests of an immortal being. No 
 wonder that Martyn exclaimed, after conducting a 
 public examination, How much pride and ostenta- 
 tious display of learning was visible in my conduct ! — > 
 how that detestable spirit follovrs me, whatever I do !” 
 But, by the grace of God, this insidious and many- 
 shaped evil was subdued. When we behold the 
 lowly Henry Martyn, in Persia, surrounded by captious 
 and insulting philosophers, like the Saviour in the 
 Jewish synagogue, and see him copying so closely 
 the meekness and gentleness of his great model, and 
 compare it with the lofty, iniellectual spirit of the 
 Cambridge scholar, we are compelled to stop and 
 admire the riches of that sovereign grace, which lays 
 low every thing that exalteth itself against God. 
 Nothing in the records of the human race presents a 
 more striking instance of the true sublime, than the 
 sight of a gifted youth, surrounded by admiring friends, 
 impetuous in his passions, pressing on to the loftiest 
 heights of mortal ambition, suddenly changed, sitting at 
 the feet of Jesus, forsaking home and native land, 
 visiting the most degraded tribes, and pouring out his 
 life as a sacrifice to their eternal well being. Here is 
 the glorious gospel of the blessed God. 
 
 Before closing these introductory observations, we 
 wish to devote a few pages to a rapid review of those 
 
XXVlll 
 
 philanthropic efforts, which Martyn and his coadjutors 
 so honorably commenced. We love to watch the 
 progress of that Star in the East, of which Buchanan, 
 and Schwartz, and Brown, and Martyn, were the 
 heralds and harbingers. The best eulogy, which 
 can be written of them, is to point to Ceylon, 
 to the plains of Travancore, and to the garden of 
 Shiraz. 
 
 One consideration of great interest is, that large 
 portions of the earth have been faithfully explored. 
 In past ages, want of accurate knowledge of the 
 real condition of mankind, was a main cause of the 
 apathy which prevailed in respect to their moral con- 
 dition. Immense portions of Africa and Asia were 
 almost as unknown, at the beginning of the nineteenth 
 century, as the whole of America was at the com- 
 mencement of the fifteenth. This fact still constitutes 
 one of the most powerful obstacles to the diffusion of 
 Christianity. In many cases, in which we have re- 
 ceived information, it has been mingled with prejudices, 
 and obscured by misapprehension, or wilful mis-state- 
 ment ; or it has not been communicated in that simple, 
 engaging form, necessary to secure a permanent in- 
 terest in the countries described. Nevertheless, a 
 great work has been accomplished. Since Columbus 
 visited these shores, the ardor for geographical dis- 
 covery has never ceased. Many victims have fallen, 
 but new adventurers have filled up the vacated ranks. 
 In reference to the northern portions of the American 
 continent, we have the affecting narratives of the Unit- 
 ed Brethren, and the graphic journals of Parry and 
 Franklin. Dr. Henderson has given us a delightful 
 view of Iceland, and has shown that it is very far from 
 
XXIX 
 
 being the ultima Thule of civilization. We have 
 many detached notices of great interest and value, 
 respecting some portions of Spanish America. We 
 greatly need, however, a Christian Humboldt, who 
 will unite accurate observation, philosophic analysis, a 
 love of free and Christian institutions, and a good 
 knowledge of history. An able exposition of the state 
 of Central and Southern America— the distinctive 
 features of its papacy and its paganism, the oppressions 
 of its Indian and African population, the great as- 
 pects of its present political revolutions, and the best 
 methods of introducing the lights of science and Chris- 
 tianity, would be an undertaking of inestimable value. 
 Of the condition of the cradle of African slavery — the 
 West Indies — the efforts of the philanthropists of 
 Britain, have furnished us true, horribly true, recitals. 
 May the day of their redemption, which draweth near, 
 be as life from the dead to all the surrounding shores. 
 We can hardly need better information, touching the 
 islands of the Pacific, than that wdiich is given by the 
 judicious pen of Ellis, and the classic one of Stewart. 
 South Africa, in former times, was well described by 
 the considerate Barrow. The noble Researches of 
 Dr. Philip record a melancholy page in the history 
 of human guilt, while their publication was the 
 means of leading to one of the most signal triumphs 
 in the records of philanthropy. A great variety 
 of valuable information, regarding Central and North- 
 ern Africa, has been communicated by Bruce, Salt, 
 Park, Clapperton, Denham, Caille, Richard and 
 John Lander, and the various missionary voyagers and 
 travellers. The discoveries of the two Landers are 
 likely to constitute a new era in the redemption of 
 3 * 
 
XXX 
 
 Africa. By solving the great problem of African 
 geography, they may be the means of crowding into 
 the next ten years, so far as Central and Western 
 Africa are concerned, more of knowledge and im- 
 provement than the whole continent has received for 
 a century. Mill, Monro, Buchanan, Ward, Sir Wil- 
 liam Jones, Heber, and various British residents and 
 missionaries, have given us ample and most interesting 
 information, in all diversities of form, in reference to 
 the great peninsula of Hindoostan. The American 
 Baptist missionaries, and several gentlemen connected 
 with the East India Company’s forces, have commu- 
 nicated many valuable facts concerning Birmah, and 
 that portion of India, which is beyond the Ganges. 
 The islands of the Indian Archipelago are yet, for the 
 most part, shrouded in darkness. Japan, China, and 
 the vast central regions of Asia, can hardly be con- 
 sidered as discovered land. A wall of prejudice, and 
 exclusive feeling, firmer than rocks of granite, leaves 
 us still in doubt, whether China contains more than 
 one third, or less than one fourth of the human race. 
 In the travels of Porter, Burckhardt, Frazer, Clarke,, 
 Malcolm, Came, Morier, Leigh, Ouseley, Chateau- 
 briand, Jowett, and in the journals of the American 
 and English missionaries, we have interesting delin- 
 eations of the condition of Western Asia. In fidel- 
 ity of narration, and in freedom from prejudice, no 
 traveller has exceeded the celebrated Carsten Niebuhr. 
 Greece has been described by Walsh, Emerson, Leake, 
 Miller, Howe, Hartley, and many others ; nowhere with 
 more candor and accuracy than in Mr. Anderson’s Ob- 
 servations upon the Peloponnesus and the Greek Isl- 
 ands. On the whole, we derive great encouragement 
 
XXXI 
 
 from the discoveries of the last fifty years. Before the 
 earth will be renovated, the intellectual and moral con- 
 dition of its inhabitants must be fully known. Igno- 
 rance is the parent of apathy. Accurate knowledge is 
 the precursor of earnest effort. 
 
 Another fact worthy of consideration is, that an im- 
 mense population, in some parts of the world, is 
 crowded together in small territories. China Proper 
 contains, at the lowest estimate, one hundred and 
 forty-six millions of inhabitants, or about twelve hun- 
 dred to a square mile. The most densely populated 
 portion of the United States is Massachusetts, which 
 has hardly eighty to a square mile. Japan, Birmah, 
 Siam, many portions of Hindoostan, and of Africa, 
 present large masses of human beings in very confined 
 districts of country. This will doubtless contribute 
 essentially to the rapid diffusion of Christianity. One 
 reason why Christian missions cannot count a larger 
 number of converts to Christ is, that a great amount 
 of effort has been expended upon regions almost deso- 
 late, or upon thinly scattered and wandering tribes. 
 What can be done by acting on masses of human 
 beings, has been shown in the missions of the United 
 Brethren in the West Indies, and in some of the dis- 
 tricts of Southern India. China contains more than one 
 fifth of the human race. All this mighty population 
 speak substantially the same language. They are 
 moulded by common sympathies and associations. 
 Vast multitudes of them look back to a common origin, 
 and forward to a common destiny. Consequently, when 
 the gospel is fairly introduced, it will, probably, effect 
 great and speedy changes. 
 
 It is a gratifying fact, that the religion of Moham- 
 
XXXll 
 
 med is on the decline. The attachment to its ob- 
 servances partakes more of political than of religious 
 feeling. In Persia, especially, a free-thinking and 
 irreligious spirit prevails to a great extent. Soofeeism, 
 under various modifications, but in general a system 
 of gross self-indulgence, and of universal skepticism, 
 has long been gaining ground, and the interested zeal 
 of the Moollahs alone maintains the falling religion of 
 the Arabian impostor. His followers have been di- 
 vided, ever since his death, into two great parties, the 
 Sunnites, or orthodox Mussulmans, who acknowledge 
 the authority of the first four Caliphs, — and the Shiites, 
 who maintain the divine right of Ali, as the successor 
 of Mohammed. The difference between the sects is 
 at once rancorous and irreconcilable. Names, which 
 are never mentioned but with blessings by one, are 
 hourly cursed by the other. In consequence, a por- 
 tion of that hatred, which would be otherwise ex- 
 pended upon the Christian, is employed upon each 
 other. It is a great point gained, when the integrity 
 of a false religion is broken. The Persians, who 
 belong to the Shiite party, are much more tolerant 
 and open to conviction, than they would be, were it 
 not for the existence of the Sunnites. In Persia, 
 Christians are regarded with much less aversion than 
 in other Mohammedan countries. Martyn would not 
 have stood forth an undaunted confessor of the Chris- 
 tian faith, in any city in which the unity of the Mo- 
 hammedan doctrines is preserved, except at the ex- 
 pense of his life. Another sect of Mohammedans in 
 Persia, called the ^^Ashugh Aref,” are not distin- 
 guished for learning, but for the great multitude of the 
 common people, whom they have attached to their 
 
xxxiii 
 
 interests. They do not observe the laws of the 
 prophet, nor show the least sign of fear or shame in 
 committing the most notorious enormities. Stimulated 
 by an ardent curiosity, they eagerly seek an acquaint- 
 ance with the religious opinions of different nations. 
 The Bible, disseminated by Martyn, Wolfe, and 
 others, has excited within them a laudable desire for 
 inquiry into the truths of Christianity. They fre- 
 quently devote themselves to the perusal of the New 
 Testament, and give various constructions to such 
 passages as are considered obscure and difScult. 
 They earnestly desire an entire version of the Scrip- 
 tures in their own language. A great number of 
 the people of Shiraz,^’ says an Armenian traveller, 
 in 1829, ^^have come to a right sense of the mental 
 darkness by which they are surrounded, and manifest 
 great desire to walk in that luminous path, which leads 
 to God and salvation. Though the Mohammedan 
 law forbids the followers of the Koran to read religious 
 books of a different creed, yet the Persians of Shiraz 
 pay very little attention to the interdiction of their 
 legislator.’’ A Mohammedan of eminent literary at- 
 tainments, and who is held in high estimation by his 
 countrymen, has rendered into Persian some portions 
 of the Old Testament, and has offered to undertake a 
 complete translation. All these circumstances, taken 
 together, furnish encouragement to hope that the fabric 
 of Mohammedan imposture will soon fall, and that its 
 deluded votaries will not emerge from its gloom and 
 corruption into a heartless skepticism, but into the 
 liberty of the True Prophet. 
 
 A Christian power has, at length, gained a footing 
 on the Barbary coast. A toleration of religion at 
 
XXXIV 
 
 Algiers is already a matter of stipulation, and it seems 
 highly probable that the other Barbary States will be 
 compelled gradually to adopt a more enlightened 
 course than they have hitherto pursued. The French 
 conquests in Africa will, doubtless, be rendered sub- 
 servient to the reviving of Christianity in those long 
 afflicted regions. The British and Foreign Bible So- 
 ciety is making progress in translating the Scriptures 
 into the Berber language — ^the vernacular tongue of the 
 native tribes in immediate contact with the territory 
 of Algiers. Missionaries are preparing in Paris for 
 those regions ; and two gentlemen, who are proceed- 
 ing under the British Geographical Society to explore 
 the Algerine rivers, have been furnished by the Society, 
 at their own request, with copies of the Arabic Scrip- 
 tures. Under the patronage of an enlightened gov- 
 ernment, the physical and moral condition of all 
 Northern Africa will be faithfully explored. Those 
 fine countries, capable of supporting sixty millions of 
 inhabitants, but which have now scarcely one sixth 
 of that number, will again become the jewel of the 
 empire,” the abodes of civilization and of the Chris- 
 tian faith. On her eastern borders, Turkey is con- 
 stantly weakened by the terrible ravages of the cholera 
 and the plague,— the ministers of God’s fierce wrath. 
 At Smyrna, we hear of more than five thousand persons 
 dying within the compass of a week ; at Mecca, of not 
 less than forty-five thousand deaths in one month ; at 
 Bagdad, that not a house escaped the plague — that an 
 inundation of the Tigris then followed, which swept 
 away many of the inhabitants — and, to close this 
 dreadful array of divine inflictions, after twenty-five 
 thousand human beings, out of eighty thousand, had 
 
XXXV 
 
 been hurried into eternity, a war, bloody and fiercej 
 succeeded. Within five years past, millions in Turkey 
 have fallen into an untimely grave, and populous cities 
 have been left to mourn in desolation. The Turks 
 are foreboding their own downfall, and are looking to 
 the Asiatic shore as a retreat from the fury of the 
 conquerors — ^to that shore where death in other forms 
 is ready to meet them. Though the wretched inhab- 
 itants of these countries are visited with dire calamity, 
 yet they continue to blaspheme the name of God, 
 which hath power over these plagues, and they repent 
 not to give him glory.” The European Turk,” 
 says a late traveller, is a lion, not asleep, but dying, 
 and, after a few fierce convulsions, will not rise again.” 
 The neighboring powers are constantly gaining 
 strength. On one side is Russia, terrible as her 
 own winter ;” on another, Austria, with an annual 
 revenue of sixty millions of dollars. Not far away is 
 France, cutting off the shackles of monarchical and 
 papal despotism. All over the Mediterranean are the 
 fleets of Britain, on whose dominions the sun never 
 sets. The Christian philanthropy of England and the 
 United States is awaking new life along the banks of 
 the Eurotas, and digging on Grecian soil the wells 
 of salvation. When the wisdom and the faith, the 
 patience and the immortal hopes of Christianity, are 
 united to the native energy, the enthusiasm, the thrill- 
 ing recollections of the Greek, we may expect that 
 the cross will accomplish a speedy triumph over the 
 waning Islam power. Italy too, the mother of 
 abomination,” is beginning to feel that she stands on 
 slippery places. The same light, which reveals the 
 dark features of the Mohammedan imposture, will 
 
XXXVl 
 
 surely lay open the corruptions of the mystery of 
 iniquity/’ The reign of civil and religious freedom 
 is alike and essentially opposed to both of them. The 
 same grave of ignominy and oblivion awaits them. In 
 some of the countries of Italy, a constantly increasing 
 attention is given to the education of the lower classes 
 — a measure full of promise towards the ultimate re- 
 demption of that fair land from the dominion of popery. 
 The abominations of this master-piece of the prince 
 of darkness,” as Richard Cecil called it, have been ex- 
 plored almost, simultaneously on the continent, in Ire- 
 land, and in the United States. Papacy cannot bear the 
 light. Individuals in that communion do, doubtless, 
 attain salvation. But the Roman Catholic religion, as 
 a whole, and in its constituent parts, is radically de- 
 fective. It is not a religion for the human mind. It 
 is adapted to the external senses, and to an inflamed 
 imagination. It will shrink away forever from that 
 intellectual and moral light, which is beginning to beam 
 on the earth. A few years since, this religion, with 
 its splendid ritual and powerful hierarchy, was domi- 
 nant in France. It is not so now. All the support 
 which the French constitution gives to that commun- 
 ion, is contained in the declaration, that the Roman 
 Catholic religion is the religion of a majority of 
 Frenchmen. The usurped and exclusive dominion 
 of papacy, in that beautiful country, is at an end. In 
 most of the recent discussions on this subject, both in 
 Europe and America, there is no disposition manifested 
 to lay upon the Catholic any civil pains and disabilities. 
 He is met with kind feeling, on the open field of argu- 
 ment, and is summoned to assert his political rights, 
 while the absurdity of his religious belief is exposed. 
 
xxxvii 
 
 A circumstance of great interest, is the recent 
 providential distribution of political power. Though 
 but a small proportion of the population of the globe 
 bear the Christian name, yet nearly one half are under 
 Christian governments, and in some measure sub- 
 jected to wholesome laws. Beneath the dominion of 
 the heathen and Mohammedan powers there is a 
 population of about three hundred and fifty millions. 
 The Christian governments comprise a population of 
 almost four hundred millions, of which the Protestant 
 States embrace about two hundred millions, the Ro- 
 man Catholic one hundred and forty millions, and the 
 Greek Church the remainder. Upwards of one hun- 
 dred and fifty millions, which is more than a sixth 
 part of the human race, considerably greater than the 
 population of the ancient Roman empire, exceeding 
 all the subjects of the Roman Pontiff, and nearly 
 twice the population of all the Mohammedan nations, 
 are under the sway of the British empire. A century 
 since, the population of Britain was scarcely thirteen 
 millions. Her authority now extends over two thirds 
 of the globe in reference to longitude ; and it is liter- 
 ally true that the sun never sets upon her possessions ; 
 for within this vast range, various places have noon 
 and midnight at the same time. Stretching also from 
 the arctic circle to the thirty-third degree of south 
 latitude, the four seasons are experienced within her 
 dominions at the same time. The conquests of her 
 merchants in Asia begin where those of Alexander 
 terminated, and where the Roman terminus never 
 reached. Britain has under her control, in Asia, a 
 larger population than exists on the whole continents 
 of Africa and America united. What an amazing in- 
 4 
 
XXXVlll 
 
 fluence on the destinies of the whole human race will 
 be exerted by a little island, enjoying the lights of 
 learning and of Christianity. If she has the disposi- 
 tion, how many times, and in how many forms, she 
 may reduplicate herself. How many Hales and 
 Joneses may she place on her thousand tribunals of 
 justice. How many Wilberforces, of incorruptible in- 
 tegrity^ to lift their voice in her senates. How many 
 Corries, and Martyns, and Hebers, and Turners, and 
 Marsdens, to traverse her sunny plains, carrying with 
 them the unsearchable riches. All which is valuable 
 in the British constitution, all which is virtuous in 
 British manners, all which is noble in the Saxon spirit, 
 may be transferred to otlier nations of the globe, and 
 may bear new harvests on the banks of the Indus. 
 Britain has, what was Alexander’s last desire, a sight 
 of the Indian Sea. She has quiet possession of what 
 he scarcely beheld — the land of elephants, of diamonds, 
 of fragrant spices. Who does not bless God for this 
 merciful arrangement in his providence ? Who can 
 estimate its results ? Under the protection of a Chris- 
 tian government, more than one hundred and fifty 
 ordained missionaries are now preaching peace through 
 Christ, to the millions who are far off. 
 
 The aspect of England herself is, in many re- 
 spects, full of promise. The number of evangelical 
 and heavenly-minded men, among the clergy of the 
 establishment, has greatly increased within' a few 
 years. At one period, John Newton was almost the 
 only minister of the church, in the diocese of London, 
 who faithfully declared the doctrines of grace. White- 
 field and Wesley, in the commencement of their 
 career, were nearly single-handed in resisting the tor- 
 
xxxix 
 
 rent of formality and worldly-mindedness, which was 
 desolating the land. A gradual divine influence has 
 also been enjoyed among the people. Many, within 
 the church, and among the ranks of dissenters, have 
 experienced the renovating power of the Holy Spirit. 
 As a natural effect, there has been an increase of 
 unanimity among the followers of the Saviour. In 
 the efficiency of benevolent effort, Great Britain has 
 set a noble example. A little one has become a 
 thousand, and a small one a strong nation. What 
 Sicily was to the Romans, in respect to temporal sub- 
 sistence, having been the granary of the empire. Great 
 Britain is, in respect to spiritual subsistence, to the 
 whole earth. In the promptitude and power with 
 which she has adopted the American temperance pre- 
 cedent, she has shown true greatness of soul, and 
 clearness and tenderness of conscience. In efforts for 
 the well-being of Africa, and for the utter extinction 
 of slavery, she has long stood foremost in the Christian 
 world. Knowledge is also penetrating the remotest 
 recesses of the country. Several important associa- 
 tions are doing very much to enlighten those whom 
 poverty and superstition have long held in degrading 
 vassalage. Now that the great measure, which 
 for many months agitated the British nation, is ac- 
 complished, and is become a part of the constitution 
 of the land, we may confidently hope that moral and 
 religious reform will be vigorously commenced and 
 prosecuted. 
 
 Another auspicious circumstance is found in the 
 rapidly growing power of the United States of 
 America. To every benevolent man, it must be a 
 matter for sincere gratitude to God, that if any portion 
 
xl 
 
 of the world Is to be filled with a population in dense- 
 ness unequalled in the annals of the human race, that 
 portion is to be these United States. Who would 
 wish to see the papal countries of Europe, or the re- 
 gions of Central Asia, or Africa, or the plains of 
 Southern America, filling up, actually or prospectively, 
 with a large increase in the number of their inhabit- 
 ants? On the supposition that the ill-constituted gov- 
 ernments, and the corrupt religions, in those countries, 
 are soon to fall and disappear, yet years must elapse 
 before the general mind will be emancipated. The 
 habits of a people cannot be changed in a day. The 
 
 soul, which has long been fettered and muffled, cannot, 
 in a moment, recover its freedom. But this country 
 has started in her career with signal advantages. The 
 true principles of civil and religious liberty were early 
 established, and have been widely diffused. No servile 
 habits, worn into the soul by long usage, here exist. 
 It is true that this population, which is spreading its 
 roots to the river, and its branches to the sea,” may 
 be a curse, instead of a blessing — ^may become an 
 enormous engine of mischief to the whole continent. 
 If there is to be an unequalled energy in doing good, 
 there may also be in doing evil. But we hope better 
 things. No nation on earth has so rich a legacy in 
 the prayers and noble sacrifices of its founders. None 
 has witnessed more signal manifestations of the good- 
 ness of the Great Being who presides over the des- 
 tinies of the nations. None is partaking so largely in 
 the mercy of the Son and Spirit of God. Upon the 
 United States and upon Great Britain rest the hopes 
 of the world. May they fulfil their high destiny. 
 
 For a number of years past, the friends of humanity 
 
xH 
 
 have combined their efforts in voluntary associations. 
 
 A new influence/’ remarks Mr. James Douglas, ^«is 
 arising, which is sufficiently able to supply the de- 
 ficiencies of government, in attaining ends which they 
 cannot reach, and in affording aids over which they 
 have no control — the power of voluntary association. 
 There is no object to which this power cannot adapt 
 itself; no resources which it may not ultimately com- 
 mand; — and a few individuals, if the public mind is 
 gradually prepared to favor them, can lay the founda- 
 tion of undertakings, which would have baflSed the 
 might of those who reared the pyramids ; and the few 
 who can divine the tendency of the age before it is 
 obvious to others, and perceive in which direction the 
 tide of public opinion is setting in, may avail them- 
 selves of the current, and concentrate every breath 
 that is favorable to their course. The power of vol- 
 untary association, tliough scarcely tried as yet, is of 
 largest promise for the future ; and when extended 
 upon a great scale, is the influence most removed from 
 the shock of accidents, and the decay of earthly things, 
 renewing its youth with renewed generations, and be- 
 coming immortal through the perpetuity of its kind.” 
 The churchy as a body, has never felt her power and 
 her accountableness. It is individuals, who have pre- 
 served her from a total amalgamation with the world. 
 It is individuals, who are now the quickening leaven in 
 the great mass. It is the combination of individuals, 
 which is planting her banners in the territories of pa- 
 ganism. These associations have the power not only 
 of calling into life the energies of the church, but of 
 sustaining and of increasing them. They are not the 
 gourds of a night, nor the flowers of a morning. They 
 4 * 
 
xlii 
 
 are based on principles in the soul of man. They 
 rest on the immutable love of freedom in the human 
 heart. Their increased extension and vigor is an 
 auspicious omen of a better day to come. 
 
 One of the main instruments of voluntary associa- 
 tions is the PRESS. The means of diffusing the light 
 of science and of Christianity, in this way, are great 
 almost beyond calculation. About sixty presses are 
 constantly employed at various missionary stations. 
 In Christian countries, a large number are vigorously 
 co-operating in the diffusion of valuable knowledge. 
 By means of the press, the overgrown, idolatrous 
 systems of Southern Asia are undermining. The 
 natives of India have begun to read to an extent never 
 before known. This naturally leads them to compare 
 their own systems of religion and morals with that con- 
 tained in the Scriptures. The most difficult languages 
 of the East have been mastered. Two independent 
 versions of the Scriptures in Chinese have excited the 
 admiration of the literary world. 
 
 The tendency of the benevolence of this age is 
 another auspicious circumstance. It is searching, 
 comprehensive and elevating. It expends its chief 
 anxieties among the lower classes of society in Chris- 
 tian and pagan lands. While it brings angels down, it 
 raises mortals to the skies. It is unlocking the prison 
 of the human mind. It is breaking in sunder the bars 
 of prejudice and of exclusive feeling. It is calling 
 forth powerful sympathies in favor of that great pros- 
 trate multitude of human beings, who have hitherto 
 had a subterranean existence. It is bringing men to 
 act on the simple truth, that God has made of one 
 blood all nations of men, to dwell on all the face of the 
 
xliii 
 
 earth. It is tearing up by the roots the senseless sys- 
 tems of BufFon, and Karnes, and Monboddo, and put- 
 ting in their place, common sense, and fact, and 
 Scripture. It regards the household servant, the 
 manacled slave, the Pariah, the Seapoy, the Savoyard, 
 not as mere beasts of burden, but as brothers and 
 sisters, children of a common Father, and bound to a 
 common destiny. And while this benevolence is 
 breaking up the unnatural distinctions of society, it is 
 cementing society by the peace and love which it is 
 breathing through it. 
 
 The number of enlightened Christians is also in- 
 creasing. We mean by enlightened Christians, men, 
 whose hearts and views embrace the whole world, who 
 look beyond the technicalities of a sect, and the ter- 
 ritories of a denomination, and comprehend in their 
 compassionate regards the entire race of man. There 
 are manifestly advances, in this respect, every year. 
 Various publications are appearing and becoming more 
 and more popular, which proceed on the fact that men 
 universally have sympathies and feelings in common, 
 and that they are divided into but two great classes — 
 the friends and the enemies of the doctrines of the 
 gospel. The works of Mr. James Douglas, of Scot- 
 land, and the masterly productions of the author of the 
 Natural History of Enthusiasm, are only precursors, 
 we hope, of a rich harvest. Would that the noble 
 sentiments which they contain were engraven deep 
 on the heart of every Christian. 
 
 The same fact is shown in the gradual amelioration 
 of public opinion on general subjects. The law of 
 nations, or the habits of feeling and action among 
 nations, has long been at variance, in many particulars, 
 
xliv 
 
 with the law of conscience and of God. Forty years 
 ago, the slave trade was publicly advocated on the 
 ground of intrinsic right and justice. But it is not 
 necessary, now, to lay the principle of this traffic along- 
 side of the law of nature, to see how oblique and dis- 
 torted it is. Its features are known afar off. The 
 law of nations is coming to harmonize with the law of 
 God. It is interesting to read, for this purpose, the 
 general history of Europe for the last one hundred 
 years. In all the mighty conflicts of opinion, in all the 
 scenes of tumult and blood, you can see a silent index 
 gi’adually coming round to the right point. Nothing 
 is more evident than that the conscience of the civilized 
 world is becoming more and more wakeful and sensitive. 
 The unexampled excitement of the general mind is 
 not altogether ominous of evil. There is much of an 
 awakened sensibility on moral subjects, which will 
 never more slumber. In the United States, an inroad 
 has been made on the dominions of vice such as has 
 not been known in modern times. The voluntary 
 abstinence of half a million of men from a deadly, 
 though flattering poison, is prophetic of greater things 
 yet to come. A single vice is not often subdued alone. 
 The moral sense will discern others, and every fresh 
 victory gives additional power for a new attack. 
 
 The encouragements, from the actual success which 
 has attended the efforts to diffuse the gospel in Chris- 
 tian and pagan lands, within the last forty years, are 
 ample. 
 
 The whole number of missionary stations, in heathen 
 countries, is more than six hundred. The number of 
 missionaries is above seven hundred, and of assistants 
 of all descriptions, three thousand. At least five 
 
xlv 
 
 millions of dollars have been contributed in the United 
 States alone, within the last thirty-five years, for the 
 diffusion of Christianity. Fifty thousand converts 
 from paganism are now members of the various 
 mission churches. The schools collect three hundred 
 and fifty thousand children for the purposes of instruc- 
 tion. The number, who have externally and formally 
 renounced idolatry, does not fall short of five hundred 
 thousand. Four millions of adults have had, to some 
 extent, the gospel of Christ preached to them. There 
 are fifty missionary printing establishments, and nearly 
 as many colleges and higher seminaries. On a low 
 estimate, five thousand individuals in a year, for several 
 years past, at the various missionary stations, have pro- 
 fessed their faith in the Redeemer of men, and the pro- 
 portion is constantly increasing. About two thousand 
 individuals are employed and regularly commissioned, 
 by the various Missionary Societies, in publishing the 
 gospel in the destitute places in Christian lands. 
 The whole number of Bible Societies, in Christendom, 
 is about four thousand five hundred ; of Bibles or parts 
 of the Bible distributed, not far from eleven millions, in 
 one hundred and sixty languages. From one hundred 
 and seventy to one hundred and eighty millions of 
 Tracts have been circulated by various Tract and 
 Book Societies. The number of children and youth, 
 habitually studying the Scriptures, on the Sabbath, in 
 associations, is about two millions. 
 
 We are now prepared briefly to consider the means 
 which must yet be adopted, or more vigorously pur- 
 sued, in the great work of diffiising Christianity 
 through the world. 
 
xlvi 
 
 It seems to be of primary importance, that Chris- 
 tians should early identify their own happiness, and 
 their own existence, iviih this enterprise. 
 
 The grand impediment to the world’s salvation is 
 in Christians. In view of the deplorable condition of 
 immense numbers of the human family, the hearts of 
 Christians, were they properly affected, would melt in 
 pity, their eyes would flow down in rivers of waters, 
 . their hands would be opened wide. But within them 
 is a selfishness which paralyzes all the sensibilities of 
 the soul — a darkness like that of Egypt — a wall of 
 prejudice and exclusive feeling, through which no 
 light from God’s word or providence penetrates. The 
 real impediment is not so much in the overgrown and 
 enormous capital which is employed in iniquitous 
 undertakings ; nor in the leagued hostility of monarchs 
 and great men ; nor in the forms of heathenism existing 
 for ages, entwined around all the affections of the soul ; 
 nor in the bloody, exterminating spirit of Moham- 
 medanism ; nor in the master work of the prince of 
 darkness, papacy — it is not in one, or all of these. 
 It mainly lies in the apathy of Christians. Had they 
 the love to the Saviour which the early Christians pos- 
 sessed, with half the property which they now have, 
 they would speedily evangelize the whole earth. It is 
 not in the want of means. It is in the want of a will. 
 When Christians shall act systematically and con- 
 scientiously — when they shall bring their young children 
 to the altar of the Lord, and devote them to his 
 service, as thoroughly as young Hannibal was set apart 
 for the subversion of Rome — when they shall feel that 
 a Christian profession has a meaning to the full extent 
 of the language in which it is expressed — when they 
 
xlvii 
 
 shall throw themselves, with all which appertains to 
 them, into one great effort, for the world’s redemption 
 — then we may confidently expect that the kingdoms 
 of this world will speedily become the kingdoms of 
 the Lord Jesus Christ. It is, unquestionably, the 
 solemn duty of all who stand at the door of the Chris- 
 tian church, to make a spirit of practical benevolence 
 a most essential test of discipleship. 
 
 Intimately connected with the preceding remark is 
 the consideration that the deplorable spiritual condition 
 of the heathen ought to he far more deeply and exten- 
 sively realized. 
 
 The human mind cannot be excited to great and 
 persevering effort, unless the danger be pressing, or 
 the object to be accomplished momentous. It is not 
 necessary that we charge the pagan nations with an 
 indiscriminate participation of all which is horrible, or 
 with an entire destitution of all which is lovely and 
 of good report. There are pearls in the darkest waters 
 of the ocean. There are traces of an original glory, 
 and of an immortal destiny, in all men. But the 
 heathen, with exceptions too insignificant to mention, 
 do not like to retain God in their knowledge, and 
 therefore God has given them over to a reprobate mind. 
 The great truths, which are so eloquently enforced in 
 the first chapter of Romans, ought to be pondered and 
 deeply felt by every Christian. That the heathen are 
 in a guilty and perishing state, the providence of God, 
 through all past time, has given testimony entirely 
 accordant to that of Scripture. We have need to ad- 
 vert only to a few facts, or to a single country. We 
 might select Persia, as a fair specimen. It is certainly 
 in advance of almost all Mohammedan countries, in 
 
xlviii 
 
 knowledge and virtue. ^^With a good governmentj 
 and a good religion/’ says Mr. Martyn, the Persians 
 would be an interesting and happy people.” But what 
 is their condition ; not according to the reports of mis- 
 sionaries only, but from the representations of intelli- 
 gent travellers, who have visited that country, without 
 any special bias in favor of Christianity ? 
 
 The falsehood of the Persians,” says Sir John 
 Malcolm, is proverbial. The first lessons which their 
 children learn, from the example of those they love, 
 is to practise deceit. The oaths, which they con- 
 stantly use to attest their sincerity, are only proofs of 
 their want of it. If a stranger should evince suspicion, 
 they sometimes exclaim, ^Believe me, for though I 
 am a Persian, I speak the truth.’ ” Chardin says. 
 That two very contrary habits are commonly found 
 united in the Persians ; that of incessantly praising 
 God and speaking of His perfections, and that of utter- 
 ing imprecations and obscene language. Persons of 
 all ranks are infected with this low vice. They are 
 liars to excess. They will speak, swear, bear witness 
 falsely, on the slightest inducement. There are ex- 
 ceptions to this rule of general depravity, but the more 
 intercourse one has with this people, the more one 
 finds such exceptions to be extremely limited.” 
 Major Scott Waring remarks, That the manners 
 of the Persians are formed, in a great degree, on the 
 principles of Lord Chesterfield ; they conceive it to 
 be their duty to please ; and to effect this, they forget 
 all sentiments of honor, and of good faith. They are 
 excellent companions, but detestable characters. They 
 seldom hesitate alluding to crimes which are abhorred 
 in every civilized community.” 
 
xlix 
 
 Most abundant testimonies might be added, were it 
 necessary, in support of the same melancholy fact in 
 reference to the whole pagan and Mohammedan world. 
 By every consideration derived from the guilt and 
 sufferings of our perishing fellow men, we are bound 
 to send them the gospel. It is not a matter to be set 
 aside. The case is plain, urgent,, imperative. 
 
 Another point, of considerable importance, is the 
 employment of more efficient means, to bring before 
 Christians the actual state of the unevangelized jpor^ 
 tions of the world. 
 
 Should all, who minister at the altar, present to their 
 congregations, at stated periods, without reference to 
 any specific mode of benevolent effort, the necessities 
 of the heathen, their character in the sight of God, and 
 their inevitable destiny unless they have the gospel; 
 should they develope the principles of the case, and 
 illustrate them by facts ; the consequences would, 
 doubtless, be most salutary. 
 
 A measure, of not a little importance, is the employ- 
 ment of men, high in public estimation, to visit other 
 portions of the world, both pagan and Christian. No 
 one can have observed, without pleasure, the effects of 
 recent international visits and missionary tours. It 
 would enable the individuals engaged to labor after 
 their return with fresh interest, and with greatly in- 
 creased power. To the degraded tribes of men, they 
 would be witnesses of the practical tendency of 
 Christianity. Their age and weight of character 
 would command greater respect and confidence, than 
 the presence of the youthful missionary. The friends 
 of Christ, also, in all Christian nations, would be 
 brought to labor with more entire harmony. Before 
 5 
 
1 
 
 the universal diffusion of Christianity, believers of 
 every name and of every land must feel and act as 
 the hosts of the conquering Alexander did — different 
 tongues, one commander— ^different ensigns, one ob- 
 ject — all marching against Babylon. 
 
 Another consideration, of great importance, is the 
 union of an enlarged philanthropy , and of a warm 
 attachment to the Christian doctrines. 
 
 Men are ever separating what God has joined to- 
 gether. One class of religionists maintain a high, 
 orthodox belief, while in an efficient practical Chris- 
 tianity they are sadly wanting. They are orthodox 
 to no purpose. They forget to do good and to com- 
 municate. On the other hand, multitudes are benevo- 
 lent they know not why. They are borne along on 
 the strong current of a general philanthropy they know 
 not whither. Benevolence in them is not an ever* 
 living principle. They do not go forth to their labor, 
 sustained and cheered by the vital doctrines of Chris- 
 tianity. There is, doubtless, very much beneficence 
 which is built on a sandy foundation. It will not stand 
 the test of the last day. It could not stand the test of 
 an enlightened conscience. Were the conversion of 
 the world mainly depending on this casual, uncertain 
 charity, the great work would never be accomplished. 
 We need that which will stand the floods of tempta- 
 tion, and the fires of persecution, which will hold on to 
 its object unshrinkingly, in the most unexpected and 
 terrible reverses of Providence. 
 
 Of all men in the world, the conductors of our 
 benevolent institutions should look well to this point, 
 that they be rooted and grounded in the faith. They 
 ought to cling to the fundamental doctrines of Chris- 
 
li 
 
 tianity. They are employed on the outposts of their 
 religion. It is their great business to excite men to 
 action. But let them be careful to do this on the 
 
 principles of the gospel. Let them beware of sepa- 
 rating feeling from principle. While our philanthropic 
 plans are pushed forward with greater and greater zeal, 
 let the depravity of man, the electing love and holy 
 sovereignty of God, justification by faith alone, through 
 the redemption which is in Christ Jesus, simple de- 
 pendence on the grace of the Holy Spirit, with their 
 kindred truths, be preached, with greater and greater 
 boldness and power. Let them be shown to be the 
 foundation of all holy action. In the din of prepara- 
 tion for the battle of the great day of God Almighty, 
 let these truths be upward and prominent. They 
 are the heavy ordnance — the sure and unfailing 
 dependence. 
 
 The power of the Christian ministry needs to he 
 greatly increased. 
 
 To accomplish this object, the union of the highest 
 attainments in piety and knowledge is indispensable. 
 This should be borne in mind by every aspirant to the 
 sacred office. When tempted to intermit or abridge 
 his efforts in the acquisition of learning, or to grow 
 weary in the pursuit of holiness, he should feel that, 
 whatever other Christians do, there is no middle 
 ground for him. He is to bring to his great work the 
 utmost capabilities of his mind and his heart. In 
 mental and moral discipline, he is to press on to the 
 farthest limits of conquest. There is no Rubicon at 
 which to stop, no Alpine snows to stay his progress. 
 
 This is not the age of the world to proclaim a 
 divorce between science and piety. Every opening 
 
lii 
 
 leaf, in the volume of God’s providence, shows, with 
 greater distinctness, the necessity of the highest attain- 
 ments in all who minister at the altar. The effusion 
 of the Divine Spirit in this country, so abundant as 
 almost to constitute a new era in the history of redeem- 
 ing love, speaks with a very intelligible voice on this 
 subject. When crowds are pressing on the narrow 
 road to Life, there is required in the guides the most 
 intense wakefulness, the most ample experience. 
 When men of taste and genius, in great numbers, are 
 bowing at the cross of Christ, the public dispensers of 
 religious truth should show them, by example and 
 precept, that Christianity opens boundless fields of 
 knowledge, and is adapted to the intellect of man in 
 its highest developements. Say not that simple piety 
 is sufficient. The light and grace of the Holy Spirit 
 comes pure from His throne, but on earth it passes 
 through a thousand imperfect and polluted channels. 
 Besides, the grand corrupter and deceiver is peculiarly 
 alert and efficient at such a time as this. Prudence, 
 foresight, wisdom, eminent knowledge, and eminent 
 piety, are of inconceivable importance in the Christian 
 ministry. The church needs Whitefields and Ten- 
 nents, but she also needs, pre-eminently, such men as 
 Jonathan Dickinson and Jonathan Edwards — fervent 
 piety, in union with consummate judgment and exalted 
 intellect. 
 
 Indeed, every voice which comes from the provi- 
 dence, or the Spirit, or the word of God, every inti- 
 mation of the signs of the times, every note which 
 reaches us from past or future ages, from lands of 
 light or darkness, from the Christian records, or the 
 Jewish economy, from earth and heaven, proclaims in 
 
liii 
 
 most emphatic terms, that the redemption of this lost 
 earth is intimately and essentially connected with a 
 HOLY AND LEARNED MINISTRY. Thosc who are Con- 
 cerned in preparing men for the sacred office, stand, 
 like the apocalyptic angel, in the sun, in the very 
 centre and focus of those means which are to reno- 
 vate this world. Let them look well to their high 
 calling. Let them stand fast on those great principles 
 which have borne the test of most abundant experi- 
 ence. Let them labor ihdefatigably to keep the public 
 opinion pure on this subject. Let them not be shaken 
 from their purpose by the breath of any popular 
 excitement. Let all the youthful ministers of Christ, 
 who have had the advantages of a thorough education, 
 show the value of the systems under which they have 
 been trained, by their practical habits, their good sense, 
 their ardent piety, their unshrinking self-denial. 
 
 The union of all real Christians in feeling and. 
 effort, is a point of unspeaJcable interest. 
 
 Said the beloved Martyn, Let me never fancy that 
 I have zeal till my heart overflows with love to every 
 man living.” The enemies of the church of Christ, 
 who are now engaged in various forms in opposing her 
 interests, are to be regarded with the deepest com- 
 passion rather than with any other feeling. They are 
 not, even the worst of them, to be looked upon as out- 
 casts from the favor of God and man. Now is the 
 time, especially, when Christians are called upon 
 to exhibit one of the most characteristic features of 
 their faith, love to enemies, heartfelt compassion for 
 lost and dying men. 
 
 How much need, also, of that heavenly charity, 
 which seeketh not her own, in all the movements of 
 
 5 # 
 
liv 
 
 the various Religious Denominations. As the limits 
 of the unevangelized world grow narrower, there will 
 be greater and greater danger of interference and 
 collision. A difference of opinion on a particular sub- 
 ject may be followed by great and permanent injury, 
 on account of the feeling which it originated; and 
 which may last and perpetuate its mischiefs, long after 
 the circumstances of its origin are forgotten. The 
 spirit of this world may be carried into those very 
 plans and measures, which are designed to banish sin 
 and contention from the earth. Jealousies may be 
 enkindled, former and forgotten injuries revived, and 
 permanent and rancorous hostility may be the mournful 
 result. 
 
 Allowing different denominations to entertain diverse 
 sentiments in regard to the lesser matters, yet there is 
 common ground on which to stand ; there are certain 
 objects to be accomplished by co-operation ; there is a 
 broader horizon than the circumference of one state or 
 one country. There is high land on which faith 
 can stand, and ample and glorious visions for her eye, 
 over and beyond the lesser objects unnoticed at her 
 feet. 
 
 The time is doubtless approaching when Christians, 
 throughout the world, will effect a far greater degree 
 of union of effort. 
 
 What insuperable obstacle now exists for a closer 
 union in the plans of Bible Societies ; in efforts to 
 procure the abolition of slavery ; in measures designed 
 to pour light on the abominations of Papacy ? For 
 instance, in regard to this latter object, let an Associa- 
 tion be formed in London, with a Branch at New 
 York, whose object shall be to collect and diffuse all 
 
Iv 
 
 possible information. Let them establish a press, and 
 place such a man at the head of it as was Robert 
 HaLiL, with his comprehensive and sagacious intellect, 
 with his bland and Christian spirit, with his voice 
 strong enough to be heard throughout two continents, 
 and we might anticipate the most auspicious results. 
 We might at least predict a closer union of Protestants 
 -^the complete reformation, the perfect protestation^ 
 of all who profess to dissent from the Romish faith. 
 
 But to accomplish any thing like such a union of 
 feeling and action, the Spirit must be poured out from 
 on high. A sentiment, deep, universal, which has its 
 source in heaven, must pervade all the branches of the 
 Christian church, that they have a common interest; 
 that this world is to be reclaimed to sacred and per- 
 manent peace, by the gospel of peace ; that no 
 weapons of earthly temper are to be used, and that 
 the might to accomplish, and the glory of the accom- 
 plishment, belong to the Ruler of the universe. 
 
 The more abundant influence of the Holy Spirit is 
 emphatically the one thing to he desired. 
 
 The visible appearance of God among men has 
 ceased. The harp of the prophet is no longer tuned, 
 and the voice of one crying in the wilderness is no 
 more heard. Jesus is now glorified, and the Spirit, 
 the great object of bis glorification, is poured out from 
 on high.. The resources of charity have been accumu- 
 lating. The Word of Life has been widely circulated. 
 But life is needed. Through all these resources and 
 means of good, the breath of the Spirit which quickens 
 is wanted. 
 
 And the Spirit is now given,, if it may be so termed, 
 
Ivi 
 
 in large measures. Upon the American colleges it 
 has descended, and filled the hearts of multitudes of 
 gifted youth with love to God and love to man, causing 
 them to live, not unto themselves, but unto Him \vho 
 redeemed them with his own blood. There is great 
 joy also in many cities, and the name of the Lord 
 Jesus is magnified. What but the inspiration which is 
 from on high moved the hearts of the Sandwich 
 Islanders to renounce idolatry before a missionary 
 was sent to their shores ? What but the same heav- 
 enly influence has led multitudes, in the United States 
 and in Britain, to abjure, simultaneously, and conscien- 
 tiously, and forever, a long-cherished, but accursed, 
 poison ? 
 
 But more abundant supplication must be preferred 
 to the throne of heavenly grace. In reference to this 
 one thing — the descent of the Holy Spirit — ^the church 
 ought to be in that state of longing, anxious expec- 
 tation which existed previous to the advent of the 
 Saviour. This is now the Hope of Israel — this is the 
 Desire of the nations, to which all eyes should be 
 turned. Let then the way of the Lord be prepared. 
 Let there be a deep feeling of want. Let all engaged 
 in the work of the Lord cherish an habitual sense of 
 their unworthiness, and of their deep guilt. Let them 
 do as Isaiah did, when he had a view of the Eternal 
 Majesty. Let them feel as John felt, when admitted 
 to the visions of his Saviour. Then let them plead 
 with God, as a man pleadeth with his friend, that He 
 would hearken and do, and defer not for His own 
 sake, and for His city, and for His people, which are 
 called by His name, — -and another Pentecost will be 
 
Ivii 
 
 experienced, and there will be great joy, not in the 
 conversion of a city, but in the regeneration of a 
 world. 
 
 The Christians of this age ought to feel the amaz- 
 ing responsibility under which they act. The disci- 
 ples, who lived in the first and second centuries, were 
 charged with duties, which were new in the history of 
 man. It was a high privilege to live in the sixteenth 
 century. The men who landed at Plymouth, two 
 hundred years ago, felt that the interests of an un- 
 known posterity were depending on their energy and 
 faith. The year 1620 will be forever an era in the 
 progress of human events — a strongly-illuminated point 
 in the records of man’s existence on earth. But the 
 men of this generation have come to a period of far 
 greater interest. Not the empire of the Caesars, simply, 
 is to be planted with the seeds of Christian truth. No 
 undiscovered continent is to be filled with the abodes 
 of free and civilized man. The field is the world, — 
 the means, a combination of moral influence, which is 
 to link together not the tribes of a single empire, but 
 the hearts of multitudes over all the world, — the object, 
 to purify thoroughly the great mass of human senti- 
 ment ; to unite heaven and earth, — the promised aid, 
 the same Power which laid the pillars of the sky, — the 
 results, glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth. 
 A new series of ages is commencing. Now is the 
 spring-time of the world. This is the period for 
 noble thoughts and noble deeds. The minds of men 
 are every where preparing for a great change. Heaven 
 is opening wide her gates. Hell is moved from 
 
Iviii 
 
 beneath. Who will not link his influence and his des- 
 tiny to the cause of man and of God ? Who will dare 
 shrink from his duty now ? Who is ready to meet the 
 heavy curse of all coming time, for unfaithfulness to 
 his trust ? Who is ready to meet the burning indigna- 
 tion of the Almighty? Such a question, as is now 
 presented to the Christian world, never agitated the 
 minds of men. On its decision is hanging the destiny, 
 not of the kingdoms of Europe, nor of the thrones of 
 Asia, but of multitudes whom no man can number. 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF THE 
 
 REV. HENRY MARTYN, B. D. 
 
 4<a rb bvofji.6 jxov KtKoniaKa^ koX oh KeKfxrjKag. 
 
 Rev. II. 
 
 ♦ *, 
 

 ' ■ ■■''■^*' ■ ' . ■ ;v.''.,f.‘aV. ■ ' 
 
MEMOIR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 EARLY LIFE OF HENRY MARTYN. HIS 
 
 SUCCESSFUL ACADEMICAL CAREER. 
 
 It has been well observed, by one* who took a profound 
 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 description remains, distinct from both of the former, 
 and far more exalted than either ; whose excellence con- 
 sists in a renunciation of themselves and a compassionate 
 love for mankind. In this order the Saviour of the world 
 was pleased to appear ; and those persons obtain the high- 
 est rank in it, who, by his grace, are enabled most closely 
 to imitate his example. 
 
 6 
 
 Pascal. 
 
62 
 
 MEMOIR 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 chil- 
 dren, four only, two sons and two daughters, survived 
 their father, Mr. John Martyn, and all of these, within a 
 short period, followed him to the grave. Of these, Henry 
 was the third. His father was originally in a very humble 
 situation of life, having been a laborer in the mines of 
 Gwenap, the place of his nativity. With no education 
 but such as a country reading school afforded, he was 
 compelled to engage, for his daily support, in an employ- 
 ment, which, dreary and unhealthy as it was, offered some 
 advantages, of which he most meritoriously availed him- 
 self The miners, it seems, are in the habit of working 
 and resting alternately every four hours ; and the periods 
 of relaxation from manual labor, they frequently devote to 
 mental improvement. In these intervals of cessation from 
 toil, John Martyn acquired a complete knowledge of arith- 
 metic, and also some acquaintance with mathematics ; 
 and no sooner had he gathered these valuable and sub- 
 stantial fruits of persevering diligence, in a soil most un- 
 friendly to their growth, than he was raised from a state 
 of poverty and depression to one of comparative ease and 
 comfort. Being admitted to the office of Mr. Daniel, a 
 merchant of Truro, he lived there as chief clerk, very re- 
 spectably, enjoying considerably more than a competency. 
 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 placed by his father in 
 Midsummer, 1788, being then between seven and eight 
 years of age. Of his childhood, 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 observes, 
 that ‘‘he did not fail to answer the expectations which 
 had been formed of him : his proficiency in the classics 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 63 
 
 exceeded that of most of his school-fellows; yet there 
 were boys who made a more rapid progress ; not perhaps 
 that their abilities were superior, 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 preparation, — 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 acquirements, 
 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 emi- 
 nently 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 usually 
 went,) says one of his earliest friends and companions, 
 ‘‘ was in a manner proverbial among his school-fellows fc^ 
 a peculiar tenderness and inoffensiveness 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 imagination 
 readily recalls the position in which he used to sit, the 
 thankful expression of his affectionate countenance, when 
 he happened to be helped out of some difficulty, and a 
 thousand other little incidents of his boyish days.” — Be- 
 sides 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 
 
64 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 remained till he was between fourteen and fifteen 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 University, and with only a 
 single letter to one of the tutors ; and while there, he ac- 
 quitted 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-life would have 
 been varied,- and however his temporal interests might 
 have been promoted, his spiritual interests would probably 
 have sustained a proportionate loss. 
 
 It was with sensations of this kind that he himself, 
 many years afterwards, reverted to this disappointment. 
 
 In the autumn of 1795,” he says, in an account prefix- 
 ed 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 University at that time, as I 
 should have done in case of success, the profligate ac- 
 quaintances I had there, would have introduced me to 
 scenes of debauchery, in which I must, in all probability, 
 from my extreme youth, have sunk forever.” 
 
 After this repulse, Henry returned home, and continued 
 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 classical knowledge; but 
 it seems not to have been till after he had commenced bis 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 65: 
 
 academical career, that his superiority 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 Univer- 
 sity of Cambridge, which he probably preferred to that of 
 Oxford, because he hoped there to profit by the advice 
 and assistance to which he was already so much indebted. 
 Whatever might be the cause of this preference, it cer- 
 tainly 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 dedicated to his favorite employ- 
 ment of shooting, and the other to reading, for the most 
 part. Travels, and Lord Chesterfield’s Letters ; — attrib- 
 uting to a want of taste for mathematics, what ought to 
 have been ascribed to idleness ; and having his mind in a 
 roving, dissatisfied, restless condition, seeking his chief 
 pleasure in reading and in human praise.” 
 
 His residence at St. John’s College, where his name 
 had been previously entered in the summer, commenced 
 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 mathematical pursuits by 
 attempting to commit the propositions of Euclid to memory. 
 The endeavor may be considered as a proof of the confi- 
 dence he himself entertained in the retentive 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 counsellor of 
 his riper years ; nor was this most important act of friend- 
 ship either lost upon him at the time, or obliterated from 
 his memory in after-life. During the first term,” he 
 
 has recorded in his Journal, ‘‘ I was kept a good deal in 
 idleness by some of my new acquaintances, but the kind 
 
 attention of K was a principal means of my preserva*- 
 
 tion from excess.” That his time was far from being; 
 
 6 /^ 
 
66 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 wholly misemployed, 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 life, during this and the 
 succeeding year, would, in the eye of the world, be con- 
 sidered to have been amiable and commendable. He 
 was outwardly moral ; was with little exception unwearied 
 in application ; and exhibited marks of no ordinary talent. 
 One exception to this statement is to be found in an irri- 
 tability of temper, increased, if not engendered by the 
 treatment he had met with at school. These ebullitions 
 of passion had, on one occasion, nearly proved fatal to a 
 friend, — the late excellent Mr. Cotter ill (afterwards min- 
 ister of St. Paul’s Church, Sheffield). He barely escaped 
 the point of a knife, which, thrown by the hand of Henry 
 Martyn, most providentially missed him, and was left 
 trembling 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 con- 
 sideration that God chiefly regards the motives of our 
 actions, — a consideration so momentous, and so essential 
 to the character of a real Christian, — -appears as yet never 
 to have entered his mind : and even when it did, as was 
 the case at this time, it rested there as a theoretic notion, 
 which was never meant to be reduced to practice. His 
 own account of himself is very striking. Speaking of 
 June, 1799, he says, ‘‘K (the friend alluded to be- 
 
 fore) 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. 1 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 67 
 
 resolved, therefore, to maintain this opinioyi thenceforth , 
 but never designed, that I remember, that it should affect 
 my conduct^ What a decisive mark this of an unrenewed 
 mind ! — what an affecting 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 academi- 
 cal honor, though not all that he had fondly and ambi- 
 tiously expected. He had lost the prize for themes in his 
 College, and was only second 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 nettled him to the quick.” It may be well sup- 
 posed, 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 the subject of religion, we learn from his own declara- 
 tion. 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 admonition 
 of a sister, was grating to my ears.” The first result 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 the final result, the success they may anticipate — in 
 the faithful discharge 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 
 
68 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 patience and mild- 
 ness was he ! I love to think of his excellent 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 myself, but on being settled at College, 
 Newton engaged all my thoughts.” 
 
 At length, however, it pleased God to convince Henry, 
 by a most affecting 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 hav- 
 ing left them for man’s salvation, 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 
 succeeded it. 
 
 At the examination at Christmas, 1799,” he writes, 
 I was first, and the account of it pleased my father pro- 
 digiously, who, I was told, was in great health and spirits,. 
 
HENRY MARTYN 
 
 69 
 
 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 eai-thly parent, the angels 
 in heaven were rejoicing at my being 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 con- 
 sideration of religion was rather suitable to this solemn 
 time ; nevertheless I often took up other books to engage 
 my attention, and should have continued to do so, had 
 
 not K advised me to make this time an occasion of 
 
 serious reflection. I began 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 cor- 
 responded nearly enough with the few notions I had re- 
 ceived 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 began to consider 
 myself a religious man. The first time after this that I 
 went to chapel, I saw, with some degree 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 reasonable. K had lent me 
 
 Doddridge^s Rise and Progress. 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, 
 reprobated it strongly. — Alas ! did he think that we can 
 go along the way that leadeth unto life, without entering 
 in at the ‘ strait gate ” 
 
 It was not long after Henry had been called to endure 
 this gracious, though grievous, chastening from above, 
 that the public exercises commenced in the University,- 
 
70 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 and although his greatest stimulus to exertion was removed 
 by the loss of his father, whom it was his most anxious 
 desire still to please, he again devoted himself to his 
 mathematical studies with unwearied 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 examina- 
 tion 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 instru- 
 
 mental 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 attained 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 wonderful 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 did not doubt, as you suppose, at all about that joy 
 which true believers feel. Can there be any one subject, 
 any one source of cheerfulness and joy, at all to be com- 
 pared with the heavenly serenity and comfort which such 
 a person must find, in holding communion with his God 
 and Saviour in prayer, — in addressing God as his Father, 
 and, more than all, in the transporting hope, of being pre- 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 71 
 
 served unto everlasting life, and of singing praises to his 
 Redeemer when time shall be no more ? Oh ! I do in- 
 deed feel this state of mind at times ; but at other times I 
 feel quite humbled at finding myself so cold and hard- 
 hearted. That reluctance to prayer, that unwillingness 
 to come unto God, who is the fountain of all good, when 
 reason and experience tell us that with him only true 
 pleasure is to be found, seem to be owing to Satanic in- 
 fluence. Though I think my employment in life gives 
 me peculiar advantages, in some respects, with regard to 
 religious knowledge ; yet with regard to having a practical 
 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 abstraction of the mind from all 
 things, as to render it completely incapable of any thing 
 else, and that during many hours of the day. — With re- 
 spect to the dealings of the Almighty with 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, you know I was extremely low-spirited ; 
 and, like most other people, began to consider seriously, 
 without 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 Saviour 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 partaker 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 
 
72 
 
 MEMOIR 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 I 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 trembling 
 delight, mixed with shame at having lived so long in 
 ignorance, and error, and blindness. I could say much 
 
 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 in 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 receive, 
 at a moment of deep sorrow, such a communication as 
 this, indicating a state of mind not thoroughly instructed, 
 indeed, in the mystery of faith, but fully alive to the su- 
 preme importance of religion ! How salutary to his own 
 mind to have possessed so near a relation, to whom he 
 could thus freely open the workings 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 
 v/hose truly pastoral instructions, he himself declares that 
 he gradually acquired 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 reli- 
 gion ; 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 being 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, 
 
HENRY MARTI N. 
 
 73 
 
 That in which I now see I was lamentably deficient, was 
 a humble and contrite spirit, in which I should have per- 
 ceived more clearly the excellency of Christ. The eager- 
 ness, too, with which I 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 University 
 must be a time of painful solicitude to those about to pass 
 through it, is obvious ^-especially when great expecta- 
 tions have been raised, and worldly prospects are likely to 
 be seriously affected by the event. From Henry Martyn 
 much was expected ; and had he altogether failed, his 
 temporal interests would have materially suffered. Not 
 was he naturally insensible to those perturbations which 
 are apt to arise in a youthful and ambitious breast. It 
 happened, however (as he was frequently known to as- 
 sert), 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 
 tranquillized, 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 award- 
 ed to him, in January, 1801, at which period 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 disappointment and dissatisfaction to 
 which all earthly blessings are subject. His description 
 of his own feelings on this occasion is very remarkable — 
 
 1 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 exer- 
 7 
 
74 
 
 MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 tions of the intellect, to fill and satisfy the mind, espe- 
 cially 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, and that it is the water which springs up to ever- 
 lasting life which alone affords never-failing refireshment. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 HIS ADVANCEMENT IN PIETY COLLEGE EMPLOYMENTS 
 
 DECIDES ON BECOMING A MISSIONARY HIS 
 
 ORDINATION. 
 
 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 college 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 have just 
 taken their degree, — in the month of March, Henry again 
 visited Cornwall, where, amidst the joyful greetings and 
 congratulations of all his friends, his youngest sister was 
 alone dejected, not witnessing in him that progress in 
 Christian knowledge which she had been fondly led to 
 anticipate. 
 
 Nor ought we to attribute this wholly to that ardency of 
 affection, which might dispose her to indulge in sanguine 
 and somewhat unreasonable expectations. Those who 
 know what human nature is, even after it has been re- 
 newed by the Spirit of God, will not deny that it is more 
 than possible that her brother’s zeal might have somewhat 
 relaxed in the bright sunshine of academical honor : and 
 certain it is that his standard of duty, though superior to 
 that of the world, was at this time far from reaching that 
 
76 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 degree of elevation which it afterwards attained. Who 
 can wonder, then, that a person tremblingly alive to hia 
 best interests, should not be wholly free from apprehen- 
 sion, 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 : constrained, 
 happily, to be much alone y he employed his solitary 
 hours in frequent communion with his own heart, and 
 with that gracious Lord who once blessed Isaac and Na- 
 thaniel in their secret devotions, and who did not withhold 
 a blessing from his. “ God,’’ he observes, ‘‘ was pleased 
 to bless the solitude and retirement I enjoyed this summer, 
 to my 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 unre- 
 served intercourse with him, and was in the habit of soli- 
 citing and receiving, on all important occasions,’ his coun- 
 sel and encouragement. By Mr. Simeon’s kindness it 
 was that he was now made known to several young men, 
 with some of whom he formed the most enduring of all 
 attachments, — 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 applying to the law, ‘‘ chiefly 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 77 
 
 he confesses, because he could not consent to be poor 
 for Christ’s sake.” 
 
 The great advancement which he had made in genuine 
 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 tw^o letters — the 
 first dated September 15, 1801, and addressed to his ear- 
 liest 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 Providence of bringing me to a serious sense of things : 
 for at the time of my father’s death, I was using such 
 methods of alleviating my sorrow, as I almost shudder to 
 recollect. But, blessed be God, I have now experienced 
 that Christ is ‘ the power of God, and the wisdom of 
 God.’ What a blessing is the Gospel ! No heart can 
 conceive its excellency, but that which has been renewed 
 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 conceive. She was wring- 
 ing her hands, and crying out to me, ‘ O pray for his 
 soul !’ — and then again recollecting her own helpless con- 
 dition, and telling me of her wretchedness in being turned 
 out upon the world without house or home. It was in 
 vain to point to heaven ; the heart, distracted and over- 
 whelmed 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, 
 
 7 # 
 
78 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 upon ,* and was sur- 
 prised 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 intemperately, 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 reason should 
 we burst out into thanksgiving to God, who has called us 
 in his mercy through Christ Jesus ! What are we, that 
 we should thus be made objects of distinguishing grace ! 
 Who, then, that reflects upon the rock from which he was 
 hewn, but must rejoice to give himself entirely and with- 
 out reserve to God, to be sanctified by his Spirit ? The 
 soul that has truly experienced the love of God, will not 
 stay meanly inquiring how much he shall do, and thus 
 limit his service ; but will be earnestly seeking more and 
 more to know the will of our heavenly Father, that 
 he may be enabled to do it. O may we be both thus 
 minded 1 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 which 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 tem- 
 pers 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 received 
 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 religion as myself. 
 
HENRY iVIARTYN, 
 
 79 
 
 Vie tookiour degrees together, but Mr. Simeon introduced 
 us to each other. I do not wonder much at the back- 
 wardness you complain of before , having never been 
 
 in much company. Bat the Christian heart is ever over- 
 flowing with good-wili to the rest of mankind ; and this 
 temper will produce the truest politeness, of which the 
 affected grimace of ungodly men is but the shadow. Be- 
 sides, the confusion 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 admission 
 to a fellowship in his college, Mr. Martyn’s engagements 
 consisted chiefly in instructing some pupils, and in pre- 
 paring himself for the examination, which was to take 
 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 em- 
 ployed 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 r and though 
 there were men of great classical celebrity among those 
 who contested the palm with him, the Jlrst prize was 
 assigned to him for the best Latin prose composition ; a 
 distinction the more remarkable, as, from his entrance 
 
80 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 into the University, he had directed an unceasing and 
 almost 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 Cornwall; — 
 making a circuit on foot through Wenlock, Liverpool, 
 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 few 
 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 began 
 to beat down the Mersey. The Mersey is here more than 
 four miles broad, and the wind now increasing almost to a 
 storm, the ship was a scene of confusion. One wave 
 broke over us, and wetted me completely 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 slothful I had been in doing 
 the Lord’s work, and what little meetness I possessed for 
 the kingdom of glory. Learn then, O my soul, to be 
 always ready for the coming of the Lord ; that no disqui- 
 eting fear may arise to perplex thee in that awful hour. 
 
 “July 23. — Holywell. Found myself very low and 
 
 melancholy. 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 pleas- 
 ure in anything 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. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 81 
 
 July 29. — Aber, Walked two miles into the country 
 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, 
 who 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 ascending 
 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 rocks, the 
 violence of the rain, and the sullen silence of the guide, 
 who was sometimes 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 inquiring 
 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 hills I ever saw, 
 where there is scarcely any mark of human industry. 
 The road in most places is overgrown with grass. — The 
 poor man had walked from Oarnarvon 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 
 
82 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 shall I learn ‘in whatever state I am, therewith to be 
 content 
 
 “ 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 cannot be thankful 
 to him, and be sensible of his presence in seasons of 
 fatigue, how can I distinguish the working 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 the 
 above account is important ; for, short as it is, it evinces 
 an habitual 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 exclusively 
 studying the word of God, — all conspired to promote his 
 felicity. These hours left for a long lime “ 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 medita- 
 tion; 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 83 
 
 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 engage- 
 ments 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, experi- 
 encing the consolations of real religion, exhibiting its 
 genuine fruits : we are now to behold him in a yet higher 
 character, and giving the most exalted 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 al- 
 mighty 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 exertions, — that of 
 a Christian Missionary. The immediate cause of his de- 
 termination to undertake this office, was hearing the Rev. 
 Mr. Simeon remark on the benefit which had resulted 
 from the services of a single missionary * in India ; his at- 
 tention 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 In- 
 dians, 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 resolution 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 
 
 Dr. Carey. See Appendix A. 
 
84 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 attachments. No one could exceed him in love for his 
 country, or in affection for his friends; and few could 
 surpass him in an exquisite relish for the various and re- 
 fined enjoyments of a social and literary life. How then 
 could it fail of being a moment of extreme anguish, 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 Saviour, who loved him and gave him- 
 self for him, would be promoted by his going forth to 
 preach to the heathen : he considered their pitiable and 
 perilous condition ; he thought on the value of their im- 
 mortal souls; he remembered 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 injunction 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 motives, he offered himself in the capacity of a mis- 
 sionary to the Society for Missions to Africa and the 
 East ; * and from that time stood prepared, with a child- 
 like simplicity of spirit, and an unshaken constancy of 
 soul, to go to any part of the world, whither it might be 
 deemed expedient to send him. 
 
 The following letter to his youngest sister, written not 
 long after the adoption of a resolution so self-denying in 
 its character, and more particularly some passages copi- 
 ously 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 some- 
 times 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 character of a missionary were elevated, — 
 
 * It is how called The Church Missionary Society for Africa 
 and the East,” and eminently deserves the cordial support of every 
 member of the Church of England. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 85 
 
 his supplications for grace and mercy incessant, — his ex- 
 aminations of his own heart, deep, and sober, and search- 
 ing ; — in one word, that he was a man of God, eminently 
 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. O that 
 we may love each other more in the Lord. The passages 
 you bring from the word of God, were appropriate to my 
 case, particularly those from the first Epistle of St. Peter, 
 and that to the Ephesians ; though I 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 desponding views of my own backward- 
 ness in the divine life, for I am more prone to self-depend^ 
 ence and conceit • but from the prospect of the difficul- 
 ties I have to encounter 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 ex- 
 pect, but generally find myself strengthened in faith and 
 humility and love after it : but the impression is so short ! 
 I am at this time enabled to give myself, body, soul, and 
 spirit, to God, and perceive it to be my most reasonable 
 service. How it may be when 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 
 8 
 
86 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 si(ffer it, I want humility : 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 acknowledge his goodness. What does it sig- 
 nify whether we be rich or poor, if we are sons of God 1 
 How unconscious are they of their real greatness, and 
 will be so till they find themselves in glory 1 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 dangerous. 
 The praises of men do not now, indeed, flatter my vanity 
 as they formerly did ; I rather feel pain, through anticipa- 
 tion of their consequences : but they tend to produce, im- 
 perceptibly, a self-esteem and hardness of heart. How 
 awful and awakening a consideration is it, that God judg- 
 eth not as man judgeth I 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-examination ! Even to state to you, imper- 
 fectly, my own mind, I found to be no easy matter. Nay, 
 St. Paul says, ‘ I judge not my own self, for he that judg- 
 eth me is the Lord.’ That is, though he was not con- 
 scious 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 righteous- 
 ness ; 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 87 
 
 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 was admitted 
 into Holy Orders. 
 
 But let us hear his reasons for keeping such a record of 
 the state of his mind : — ‘‘ I am convinced that Christian 
 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 review of such a lasting tes- 
 timony 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 excel- 
 lence of the following observations. 
 
 Since I have endeavored to divest myself of every 
 consideration independent of religion, I see the difficulty 
 of maintaining a liveliness in devotion for any considerable 
 time together ; — nevertheless, as I shall have to pass the 
 greater 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 different dis- 
 tances, the attainment of which was to furnish me wdth 
 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 de- 
 lightful object ; and the prize of my high calling the mark 
 after which I press !” 
 
 “ 1 was under disquiet at the prospect of my future 
 work, encompassed, as it appeared, with difficulties; but 
 
88 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 I trusted I was under the guidance of infinite wisdom, 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 at night, at the prospect of being 
 stripped of every earthly comfort ; but who is it that mak- 
 eth 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 example and precepts of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 Was it not his meat and drink to do the will of his heav- 
 enly 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, I should long and labor for those 
 around me, and afterwards for the conversion of the 
 Heathen.” 
 
 I had distressing thoughts about the little prospect of 
 happiness in my future life. Though God has not de- 
 signed 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 excel- 
 lency of my God.” ‘‘ I found Butler’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, 
 
 See Appendix B, 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 89 
 
 by so many writers, in snch 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 to their 
 proper ends. The truth or falsehood of pretences 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 pleasure ; which passage, 
 while it asserts the reality of God’s influence, points out 
 also the manner of his acting, 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 reason- 
 ably, 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 pos- 
 terior 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 humility and love, but the impression 
 decays so soon ! Resolved for the future to use more 
 watchfulness in reading and prayer.” — My prayers have 
 been frequent 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 
 8 * 
 
90 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 heart towards the world to come.” In my walk out,^ 
 and during the remainder of the day, the sense of my own 
 weakness and worthlessness called me to watchfulness^ 
 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-satisfac- 
 tion, but no abiding humiliation.” — ‘‘Talked with much 
 contemptuous severity about conformity to the world ; 
 alas ! all that is done in this way had better be left un- 
 done.” “ This was a day when I could only by transient 
 glimpses perceive that all things were ‘ loss, for the excel- 
 lency 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 earnest ; 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 principle : 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, comfi)rt, 
 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 declareth 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 jny strength. May 
 I receive from above a pure, a humble, a benevolent, a 
 heavenly mind !” 
 
 “ Rose at half past five, and walked a little before 
 chapel, in a happy frame of mind. Endeavored to main- 
 tain affectionate thoughts of God as my Father, on awak-. 
 ing in the morning. Setting a watch over my first 
 thoughts, and endeavoring to make them humble and de- 
 vout, I find to be an excellent preparation, for prayer, and. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 91 
 
 for a right spirit during the day. I was 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 mel- 
 ody 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 
 spirit ; for then, perceiving underneath me the everlasting 
 arms, I can enjoy my security.’’— Amid the joyous affec- 
 tions of this day, I quickly forgot my own worthlessness 
 and helplessness, and thus, looking off from Jesus, found 
 myself standing on slippery ground. But oh ! the happi- 
 ness of that state, where pride shall never 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 chapters 
 of Revelations. This is to me the most searching and 
 alarming part of the Bible ; yet now with humble hope I 
 trusted, that the censures of my Lord did not belong to 
 me: except that those words, — Rev. ii. 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 ; nevertheless I besought the Lord, that what- 
 ever 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 I feel ; oh ! did 
 they but know that my root is rottenness !” — “ Heard Pro- 
 fessor Parish preach at Trinity Church, on Luke xii. 4, 5, 
 and was de.cply 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 appre- 
 hensions of the glorious Being at all times ? The partic- 
 ular promise — ‘ him that overcometh 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 
 
92 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 reverence of God/’^ — ‘‘ I see a great work before me now, 
 namely the subduing 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 ! but now how plain, how reasonable, 
 to have the love of Christ constraining me to be his faith- 
 ful, 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 Baxter’s 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 wonder^- 
 ing at the imperceptible operation of grace, which had 
 enabled me 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 angel had ap- 
 pointed 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 interceded 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 him- 
 self in the strongest terms of self-condemnation, will ap- 
 pear 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 language 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 93 
 
 know that they were wretched, and miserable, and poor, 
 and blind, and naked,’’ that they became defective in zeal 
 for the glory of their Saviour. Whoever considers that 
 tenderness of conscience is found always in an exact pro- 
 portion to fervent desires after an entire conformity to the 
 divine image, will be prepared to expect, and pleased to 
 peruse, 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,” observes a celebrated writer* 
 on the religious affections, consists in such humility as 
 becomes a creature under a dispensation of grace, con- 
 sisting in a mean esteem of himself, as nothing, and as 
 altogether contemptible and odious, attended with a morti- 
 fication of a disposition to exalt himself, and a free renun- 
 ciation 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 towards that height, and, 
 therefore, estimating his love by the whole height of his 
 duty, it appears astonishingly little and low in his eyes. — 
 It most demonstratively appears 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 deformity, 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 divine 
 who stood singularly high in Mr. Martyn’s estimation, 
 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-pleasing. 
 Lord! show me myself, as nothing but wounds and 
 bruises and putrefying sores, and teach me to live by faith 
 
 * Jonathan Edwards, 
 
94 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 on Christ my all.” — I fear the exemption from assaults,, 
 either external or internal, is either in itself a bad symptom 
 of self-ignorance, or leads to pride and self-seeking. Re- 
 veal to me the evil of my heart, O thou heart-searching 
 God.” 
 
 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, but look not for an answer 
 from above ; but while I consider, at the times 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 humble waiting upon God for sancti- 
 fying 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 
 backslidings ; bring down my soul to repent in dust and 
 ashes for my waste of time,, carnal complacency, 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 ignorance 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 drawing nigh unto God. 
 Read Brainerd’s Journal in the afternoon. At Mr. Sim- 
 eon’s church this evening, my mind was wandering and 
 stupid. His sermon was very impressive, on Rev. iii. 2. 
 Thanks to God that, though my graces are declining, and 
 my corruptions increasing, I am not unwilling to be re- 
 claimed. For with all this evil in my heart, I would not, 
 could not, choose any other 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. Base 
 wretch that I am, that by carelessness and unmortified 
 pride, I should thus ungratefully repay his unexampled 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 95 
 
 kindness. But if the sense of ingratitude to man be thus 
 painful, what ought I not to feel in reference to God, that 
 good and holy Being, whose sparing mercy keeps me out 
 of hell, though I daily dishonor 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, contrition.” — 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, (Slc. Certainly every grace must be in exercise, if 
 we would enjoy the communion of the perfect God. ‘ I 
 am the Almighty God ; walk before me, and be thou per- 
 fect.’ 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 conscience, in in- 
 dulging 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 deliver- 
 ance 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 vileness ! Let me 
 then remember, that all apparent joy in God, without hu- 
 mility, is a mere delusion of Satan.” — “ This is my birth- 
 day, and I am ashamed to review the past : Lord Jesus, 
 watch over me in the 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 suc- 
 ceeding year of my life may be more devoted to His glory 
 than the last.” 
 
 “ 1 thought that my fretfulness, and other marks of an 
 unsubdued spirit, arose from a sense of my corruption, and 
 
96 
 
 MEMOIR OE 
 
 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, disap- 
 pointed 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 re- 
 joice m 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 omis- 
 sion of my journal had been attended with bad effects. O 
 wretched man that I am ! If God’s word did not une- 
 quivocally declare the desperate 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 humbled at the contemplation of myself.” 
 
 ‘‘ When I look back on every day, I may say I have 
 lost it. So much time misspent; so many opportunities 
 lost, of 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 ease 
 continually for his service.” — 
 
 ‘‘What is my journal, but a transcript of my follies? 
 what else is the usual state of my mind but weakness, 
 vanity^ and sin ? O that I could meditate constantly upon 
 divine things ; that the world and its poor concerns 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 sin, and that generally prevailing igno- 
 rance of my mind by which all motives to diligence and 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 97 
 
 love are made to disappearj to be my misery. Now there- 
 fore 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 perceptibly refreshed. The last three chap- 
 ters of St. John were peculiarly sweet, and I longed to 
 love. Mr. Simeon preached on John xv. 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 de- 
 scribed 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 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 igno- 
 rant.” — Pride shows itself every hour of every day ,* 
 what long and undisturbed possession does self-compla- 
 cency hold of my heart! what plans, and dreams, and 
 visions of futurity fill my imagination, in which self is the 
 prominent object 1” — 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 over* 
 whelmed with guilt. — I was unwilling to resume my stud- 
 ies, while so much seemed to remain to be done in my 
 own heart. Read Plopkins’s Sermon on true Happiness, 
 and analyzed it. The obedience required in it terrified 
 me at first, but afterwards 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 ele- 
 vated than humbled afterwards. At Mr. Simeon’s was 
 deeply impressed with his sermon on Eccles. viii. 11. It 
 9 
 
98 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 believe I was so vile a 
 wretch as I then saw myself to be. 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 my life ! Dear Saviour, I de- 
 sire to be no more lukewarm, 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 !” — “ How 
 many of my days are lost, if their worth is to be measured 
 by the standard of prevailing heavenly-mindedness ! I 
 want, above all things, a willingness to be despised. What 
 but the humbling influence of the Spirit, showing me my 
 vileness and desperate wickedness, can ever produce such 
 an habitual temper !” 
 
 ‘‘ Mr. Simeon’s sermon this evening, on 2 Chron. xxxii. 
 31, discovered to me my corruption and vileness more 
 than any sermon I had ever heard.” ‘‘ Oh ! 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 tua sancta, et dulcedo 
 tua beatissima possideat animam meam, atque in invisi- 
 bilium amorem rapiat ill am.”* 
 
 This day was set apart for a public fast. I prayed 
 rather more than two hours, chiefly with confession of my 
 
 * 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.” 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 99 
 
 own sins,, those of my family, and the church : alas ! so 
 much was required to be said on the first head, that I 
 should have been at no loss to have dwelt upon it the 
 w^hole day/’ — ‘‘ Suffered sleepiness to prevent my reading 
 to my servant : it is hurtful to my conscience to let slight 
 excuses for an omission of duty prevail.” — O what 
 cause for shame and self-abhorrence arises from the review 
 of every day : — in morning 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 hemg permitted to do the 
 will of God, — of the love of Christ, which was so disinter- 
 ested, — 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 to 
 be employed on errands of mercy. A ray of light seems 
 to break upon my mind for a moment, and discovers 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 notions ; and when 
 the time comes for reading the Scripture and praying, 
 then it recoils. When an opportunity offers of speaking 
 for the good of others, or assisting 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 any terror. But now, my soul ! rise 
 tfom earth and hell, — shall Satan lead me captive at his 
 will, when Christ ever liveth to make intercession for the 
 vilest worm? Othou! whose I am by creation, preser- 
 vation, redemption, no longer my own, but his who lived 
 and died and rose again, once more would I resign this 
 
100 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 ser- 
 vice of Jesus, to whom I owe so much ! May it be sweet 
 to me to proclaim to sinners like myself the blessed effl- 
 cacy of my Saviour’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 pillar and 
 ground of the truth,” — Mr. Martyn prepared for the solemn 
 rite of his ordination, which was administered at Ely on 
 Sunday, Oct. 22, 1803 : ^ Blessed is the man whom Thou 
 choosest, and causest to approach unto Thee, that he may 
 dwell in thy courts f Psalm Ixv. 4. This blessing surely 
 rested in an eminent degree on Mr. Martyn : for what a 
 contrast does his approach to the altar on this occasion 
 exhibit to that of those, who 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 promot- 
 ing 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 him- 
 self for admission into the ministry of the Lord Jesus, in 
 so much ignorance and upholiness ;” and at the same 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 101 
 
 time poured out his prayer, that he might have grace 
 to fulfil 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 
 treasure 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 Poly carp as a 
 Bishop, was his consolation as a Deacon, — that he who 
 was constituted an overseer 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 superintendence 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 constitutional 
 delicacy and reserve, no one had naturally a greater re- 
 luctance 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. Observing, however, 
 with pain and sorrow, one of the candidates for ordination, 
 in an apparently careless and unconcerned state, he took 
 an opportunity, though the party was not personally 
 known to him, of admonishing him privately on the sub- 
 ject : and in what a strain such a man would speak at 
 such a moment, may more easily be conceived than ex- 
 pressed. A deep conviction of the necessity of reproving 
 others, and not suffering sin to remain in them, often in- 
 duced Mr. Martyn to do violence to the retiring tender- 
 ness 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. 
 9 ^ 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 COMMENCEMENT OF HIS MINISTERIAL LABORS COLLEGI- 
 ATE DUTIES APPLIES FOR A CHAPLAINSHIP UNDER 
 
 THE EAST INDIA COMPANY VISITS CORNWALL HIS 
 
 SUFFERINGS ON LEAVING ENGLAND. 
 
 The exercise of his pastoral function Mr. Martyn com- 
 menced as curate of the Rev. C. Simeon, in the Church 
 of the Holy Trinity in Cambridge ; undertaking 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 ser- 
 mon, 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 xiv. 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 considerable 
 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 him- 
 self 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 
 
MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 103 
 
 Lord, that I might be fully instructed in righteousness.’’ — 
 So meekly and thankfully did this young minister listen 
 to the affectionate counsel 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 would have given thee 
 living water,’ John iv. 10 : when it was his fervent desire 
 and prayer to enter fully into the solemn spirit of those 
 well-known lines, 
 
 ‘T’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 ad- 
 dressed were great or small, learned and refined, or poor 
 and ignorant, he spake as one who had a message 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 employments 
 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 unreason- 
 ableness of his discontent (who was a brand plucked 
 out of the fire), and the glorious blessedness of the minis- 
 terial work.” At times, he confesses, he was tried with a 
 
 sinful dislike of his parochial duty” — and seemed fre- 
 quently as a stone speaking to stones” — and he laments 
 that want of private devotional reading, and shortness of 
 prayer, through incessant sermon-making, had produced 
 much strangeness 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 
 private I seem to be reading in public.” Young minis- 
 
104 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ters, — 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 not 
 unknown to one of the most devoted and most faithful of 
 their brethren. 
 
 Added to those duties which had now become his pecu- 
 liar 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 the 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 vigilance 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 clas- 
 sical examiner. To keep my thoughts from wandering 
 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 delight. ‘ The car- 
 nal mind is enmity against God,’ — and so 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 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 105 
 
 passed ? I examined in Butler’s Analogy, and in Xeno- 
 phon ; how much pride and ostentatious display of learning 
 was visible in my conduct ! — how that detestable spirit 
 follows me, whatever I do !” 
 
 It was customary with Mr. Martyn, at the commence- 
 ment 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 ministrations, and 
 too little io private communion with God. Yet he trusted 
 that he had grown in grace, inasmuch as the bent of his 
 desires was towards God, more than when he first thought 
 of becoming a Missionary. “ In heavenly contemplation 
 and abstraction of mind,” he adds, my attainments have 
 fallen far short of my expectation ; but in a sense of my 
 own worthlessness and guilt, and in a consequent subjuga- 
 tion of the will, and in a disposition for labor and active 
 exertion, I am inclined to think myself gaining ground. 
 My soul approves 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 the 
 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 constant self-denial ; 
 and that he might see clearly why 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 sea- 
 sons of trouble and desponding faith ; that he might not 
 shrink from cold and hunger, and painful labor, but might 
 follow the Lamb whithersoever 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 ex- 
 
iOG 
 
 MEMOIR or 
 
 pectations of becoming a Missionary were considerably 
 damped by. the very trying event of his losing all his slen- 
 der patrimony ; a loss rendered more severe to him by 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 dis- 
 tress, when his presence in England might alleviate or 
 remove it. In order, therefore, that he might consult 
 some of his friends in this emergency, at the end of June 
 he left Cambridge for London. 
 
 The situation of a Chaplain to the East Indiu Company 
 had long appeared to many of those who took a lively in^ 
 terest 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 capa- 
 city of Chaplain to the East India Company — his private 
 journal contains this remarkable reflection : — “ The pros^ 
 pect of this world! s happiness gave me rather pain than 
 pleasure^ which convinced me that I had been running 
 away from the world rather than overcoming it!* That 
 unexpected change which had now taken place in Mr. 
 Martyn’s circumstances caused an increased anxiety 
 amongst his friends to procure, if possible, the appoint- 
 ment which before they had deemed sa desirable ; and 
 they were not without hopes of seeing the Mission Church 
 at Calcutta placed under his pastoral superintendence. 
 Insuperable obstacles, however, interfered with this ar- 
 rangement, and a veil was thus cast over his future 
 proceedings.” 
 
 The patience which Mr. Martyn manifested under this 
 disappointment was as edifying and extraordinary, as the 
 watchfulness which he exerpised over his mind during his 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 107 
 
 visit to London j lest scenes so different from those at 
 Cambridge, should prove to him a source of distraction 
 and dissipation. He speaks at this time of returning on 
 one occasion to his room, after having been much abroad 
 and making many visits, unable to remain in an unholy, 
 dissipated state, and seeking God earnestly in prayer.’^ 
 Whilst waiting at the India House, he employed that time 
 — for which,” he says, he would have given anything 
 at Cambridge,” in private ejaculatory prayer, and in re- 
 peating passages from the word of God ; — and yet^ though 
 he ever aimed at an entire abstraction from the vanities 
 of the world, he hesitated not to allow himself the full en- 
 joyment of rational and refined gratifications : his obser- 
 vations on this head are well worth recording : ‘‘ Since I 
 have known God in a saving manner,” he remarks, 
 “ painting, poetry, and music, have had charms unknown 
 to me before. I have received what I suppose is a taste 
 for them ; for religion has refined my mind, and made it 
 susceptible of impressions from the sublime and beautiful. 
 O how religion secures the heightened enjoyment of those 
 pleasures which keep so many from God, by their becom- 
 ing a source of pride !” 
 
 Unable at present to discern the cloud which should 
 conduct him on his way, Mr. Martyn resumed his minis- 
 terial functions at Cambridge with ardor, but with a heavy 
 heart. The affairs of his family, affecting, as they did, 
 his own destination as well as his sister’s happiness, were 
 no light pressure upon his spirits ; in any other point of 
 view, they would scarcely have raised a sigh, and certainly 
 would not greatly have disturbed his composure. But 
 when most oppressed,” he was enabled to find comfort 
 in reflecting, that even such a condition was infinitely 
 preferable to that of those, whose minds were discontented 
 in the pursuits of dangerous trifles.” 
 
 The words of the wise man, that the day of death is 
 better than the day of one’s birth,” can apply only to 
 those who practically discern, in the light of the Scriptures, 
 
108 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 the great end of their existence. This subject was ever 
 in Mr. Martyn’s contemplation ; and that he might more 
 closely consider the object for which he was created, he 
 never failed in making a particular commemoration of the 
 anniversary of his birth. ‘‘ Twenty-three years have 
 elapsed’^ (he wrote on the 18th of February, 1804) 
 ‘‘ since I saw the light ; — only four of which have been 
 professedly given to God ; — much has been left undone ; — 
 much remains to be done as a Christian and minister ; yet 
 my past experience of the long-suffering of God, leaves me 
 no doubt of being carried on all the way. I feel that my 
 heart is wholly for heaven, and the world mainly behind 
 my back. Praised be the Lord for his mercy and pa- 
 tience ! The number of my days is fixed in his purpose ; 
 — O may I ^ glorify him on earth, and finish the work he 
 has given me to do.’ ” 
 
 That his heart was ‘‘ wholly for heaven,” is evinced by 
 the following reflection on a conversation in the hall of St. 
 John’s : — ‘‘ At dinner they were talking of stones falling 
 from the moon. My imagination began to ascend among 
 the shining worlds hung in the midst of space, and to 
 glance from one to another, and my heart bounded at the 
 thought that I was going a much surer way to behold the 
 glories of the Creator hereafter, than by giving up my 
 time to speculations about them.” 
 
 In the interval which passed between the months of 
 February and June, he was found earnestly laboring in 
 the service of his divine Master. He preached animating 
 and awakening discourses : he excited societies of private 
 Christians to watch, quit themselves as men, and be 
 strong :” he visited many of the poor, the afflicted, and 
 the dying : he warned numbers of the careless and prof- 
 ligate : — in a word, he did the work of an Evangelist. 
 Often did he redeem time from study, from recreation, 
 and from the intercourse of friends, that, like his Re- 
 deemer, he might enter the abodes of misery, either to 
 arouse the unthinking slumberer, or to administer conso- 
 
HENRY MARTYN, 
 
 109 
 
 ]ation to the dejected penitent. Many an hour did he 
 pass in an hospital or an alms-house ; — and often, after a 
 day of labor and fatigue, when wearied almost to the ex- 
 tremity of endurance, he would read and pray with the 
 servant who had the care of his rooms; thus making it his 
 meat and drink, his rest as well as his labor, to do the 
 will of his heavenly Father, in conformity to the example 
 of Christ : 
 
 His care was fixed ; 
 
 To fill his odorous lamp with deeds of light. 
 
 And hope that reaps not shame.” 
 
 The delight he experienced on hearing that benefit 
 resulted from his exertions, proved to him an ample recom- 
 pense for every sacrifice of time, comfort, or convenience ; 
 and it was equalled only by the humility with which he 
 received such cheering intelligence* ‘‘ I was encour- 
 aged ’’ (he observes, on receiving a communication of this 
 nature) and refreshed beyond description, and I could 
 only cheerfully and gratefully ofler up myself to God’s 
 service : but it was at the same time a check to my pride 
 to reflect, that though God might in his sovereignty bless 
 his word by my mouth, I was not on that account the less 
 sinful in my ministrations.” On another occasion, with 
 touching simplicity and true lowliness, he writes, after 
 meeting some of his flock in the way so strongly and ably 
 recommended by the present Bishop of Chester,^ — ‘‘ I 
 spoke for twenty minutes on ‘Thy will be done on earth, 
 as it is in heaven.’ — When shall I pour out of a full heart 
 these blessed and divine truths which drop from these lips 
 of clay ! An old woman, at the conclusion, said, ‘ The 
 Lord Almighty bless you !’ This unexpected benediction 
 encouraged me much.” 
 
 The incalculable value of habits of self-denial seems 
 never to have been more deeply impressed upon the mind 
 
 * Rev. J. B. Sumner, D. D., a distinguished writer on the Evi- 
 dences of Christianity, and an excellent prelate. E. 
 
 10 
 
110 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 of Mr. Martyii than at this time. — ‘‘ A despicable indul- 
 gence in lying in bed,’’ he says, gave me such a view 
 of the softness of my character, that I resolved, on my 
 knees, to live a life of more self-denial : the tone and 
 vigor of my mind rose rapidly : all those duties from 
 which I usually shrink, seemed recreations. I collected 
 all the passages from the four Gospels that had any refer- 
 ence to this subject ; — it is one on which I need to preach 
 to myself, and mean to preach to others. Whenever I can 
 say, ‘ Thy will be done,’ ‘ teach me to do thy will, O God, 
 for thou art my God ;’ it is like throwing ballast out of an 
 air-balloon ; my soul ascends immediately, and light and 
 happiness shine around me.” Such was his thirst after 
 this Christian temper ! such his enjoyment of its blessed- 
 ness ! 
 
 At the beginning of the present year, Mr. Martyn was 
 apprehensive, as we have seen, of having bestowed too much 
 time on public duties ; and too little on those which are 
 private and personal. He was fully persuaded that, in 
 order to take heed effectually to his ministry, he must, in 
 obedience to the apostolic injunction, ‘ take heed’ primarily 
 ‘ to himself ;’ and this, in fact, was his settled course and 
 practice. He would sometimes set apart seasons for 
 humiliation and prayer, and would frequently spend whole 
 evenings in devotion. Of the Bible he could ever affirm, 
 ‘ Thy word is very pure, therefore thy servant loveth it.’ 
 ‘ The word of Christ dwelt richly in him in all wisdom.’ 
 Large portions of it did he commit to memory, repeating 
 them during his solitary walks, at those times when he 
 was not expressly meditating on some scriptural subject, 
 which was his general custom ; and so deep was his ven- 
 eration for the word of God, that when a suspicion arose 
 in his mind, that any other book he might be studying was 
 about to gain an undue influence over his affections, he 
 instantly laid it aside, nor would he resume it till he had 
 felt and realized the paramount excellence of the divine 
 oracles: he could not rest satisfied till all those lesser 
 
HENRY MARTYN. Ill 
 
 lights, which were beginning to dazzle him, had disap* 
 peared before the effulgence of the Scriptures. 
 
 How much he loved secret prayer, and how vigilantly 
 he engaged in the exercise of it, may be seen in the sub- 
 joined remarks on that subject : — ‘‘ I felt the need of 
 setting apart a day for the restoration of my soul by solemn 
 prayer : my views of eternity are become dim and tran- 
 sient. I could live forever in prayer, if I could always 
 speak to God. I sought to pause, and to consider what I 
 wanted, and to look up with fear and faith, and I found 
 the benefit ; for my soul was soon composed to that devout 
 sobriety which I knew by its sweetness to be its proper 
 frame. — I was engaged in prayer in the manner I like, 
 deep seriousness ; at the end of it, I felt great fear of for- 
 getting the presence of God, and of leaving him as soon 
 as I should leave the posture of devotion. I w'as led 
 through the mists of unbelief, and spake to God as one 
 that was true ; and rejoiced exceedingly that he was holy 
 and faithful. I endeavored to consider myself as being 
 alone on the earth with him, and that greatly promoted my 
 approach to his presence. My prayer for a meek and 
 holy sobriety was granted ! O how sweet the dawn of 
 heaven !” 
 
 Nor was Mr. Martyn less diligent and fervent in the yet 
 higher branch of Christian worship, — thanksgiving. — Let 
 me praise God,’’ he would say, for having turned me 
 from a life of wo to the enjoyment of peace and hope. 
 The work is real. I can no more doubt it than I can 
 doubt my existence ; the whole current of my desires is 
 altered, — I am walking quite another way, though I am 
 incessantly stumbling in that way.” I had a most blessed 
 view of God and divine things ; — O how great is his excel- 
 lency 1 I find my heart pained for want of words to praise 
 him according to his excellent greatness ; I looked forward 
 to complete conformity to him, as the great end of my 
 existence, and my assurance was full. I said, almost with, 
 tears, ‘ Who shall separate us from the love of Christ V ” 
 
112 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 It has been well observed,* that we may judge, by 
 our regard for the Sabbath, whether eternity will be forced 
 upon us.’^ The application of this rule, as it respects Mr. 
 Martyn, will discover a singular meetness in him for the 
 inheritance of the saints in light. His Sabbaths were 
 Sabbaths indeed, — the antepast, often, of that rest which 
 is everlasting. 
 
 Let 'US hear his own description of his happiness at 
 some of those sacred times : — ‘‘ Before setting out to go to 
 Lolv/orth, I endeavored to cast away all tliose contemptible 
 prejudices and dislikes which I often feel, and on the road 
 experienced a sweet sense of the divine presence, and 
 happy meditation on God and his truths. I was thinking 
 of the love of Christ, and of his unparalleled humility, and 
 that to him belonged all the glory, as having truly merited 
 it. I felt quite devoted to God and assured of his love : 
 I did not doubt of having been apprehended by Christ 
 (for the purpose, I. hope, of preaching his Gospel), and 
 during the service my heart was full of love and joy.’’ 
 
 At church, this morning, my heart was overflowing with 
 love and joy : during the sermon, which was an exhorta- 
 tion to diligence, a sense of my unprofitableness depressed 
 me. But in my ride to Lolworth, I enjoyed sweet de- 
 light : — every breeze seemed to breathe love into my 
 heart ,* and while I surveyed the landscape, I looked for- 
 ward to the days when all nations should come to the 
 mountain of the Lord’s house.” 
 
 By those who forget the history of our Lord’s life, it 
 might be conceived, that one so blameless and harmless 
 as Mr. Martyn, so poor in spirit, and pure in heart, would 
 pass on his way unassailed by calumny or unkindness. 
 But those who draw their anticipations from the Scripture, 
 will not ‘ marvel’ that he should be called to endure unjust 
 insinuations aad aspersions, when his whole life was de- 
 voted to the welfare of his fellow creatures. Yet, ‘when 
 
 Adams’s Private Thoughts. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 113 
 
 reviled he reviled not again, but committed himself to him 
 that judgeth righteously.’ ‘‘Is not this sweet, O my 
 soul,” he exclaimed under a trial of this kind, “ to have 
 a holy God to appeal to and converse with, though all the 
 world should turn their backs?” And it should be re- 
 marked here, that his patience under the severe and un- 
 merited censures of others was not that which is sometimes 
 mistaken for it, the indifference of apathy, or the super- 
 ciliousness of contempt ; the one was as abhorrent to his 
 nature, as the other was to the principles of his religion. 
 Censorious tongues were to him as they were to David, 
 “ Spears and arrows and sharp swords :” so far from being 
 callous to any attempts to wound his character and his 
 peace, he acknowledges that obloquy was a trying exercise 
 of his Christian temper, and he considered the dispensa- 
 tion as “ wholesome,” because “to be despised by men 
 affected him very deeply.” ‘ But the name of the Lord 
 is a strong tower : — the righteous runneth into it, and is 
 safe.’ “ Conscious,” said he, “ that I did not deserve 
 the censures that were cast upon me, I committed myself 
 to God, and in him may I abide, till the indignation be 
 overpast !” 
 
 Those, however, who maligned and traduced Mr. Mar- 
 tyn’s character, wounded his spirit far less than those who 
 either scoffed at his high and self-denying designs of use- 
 fulness, or, from worldly motives, discouraged him from 
 attempting their accomplishment. No one could be more 
 ready than he to consider the fittest means for compassing 
 the ends he had in view ; and to weigh beforehand the 
 difficulties attending the life of a Missionary, however 
 favored by external circumstances. But objections of a 
 contemptuous kind, or those arguments which founded 
 themselves on an ignorance of the very spirit of the Gos- 
 pel, painfully affected his mind. His reflections, after a 
 long discourse with a person who had addressed him with 
 the kindest intentions, but with a judgment unenlightened - 
 by that wisdom which is from above, are worth preserv^^^ 
 10 ^ 
 
114 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ing : — All our conversation on the subject of religion 
 ended in nothing. He was convinced that he was right, 
 and ail the texts I produced were, according to him, ap- 
 plicable only to the times of the Apostles. How am I 
 constrained to adore God’s sovereign mercy ! My soul, 
 dost thou not esteem all things but dung and dross for 
 the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord? 
 Yea, did not gratitude constrain me, — did not duty and 
 fear of destruction, — yet surely the excellency of the ser- 
 vice of Christ, would constrain me to lay down a thousand 
 lives in the prosecution of it.” When called to encounter 
 the ridicule of those who, not knowing the hope of Christ’s 
 calling, nor the riches of the glory of his inheritance in 
 the saints, nor the exceeding greatness of his power 
 towards those who believe, despised all labors of love 
 amongst the heathen as wild and visionary ; the Lord 
 helped him to keep his ground, and to bear his testimony. 
 ‘‘With my Bible in my hand, and Christ at my right 
 band,” said he, “ I can do all things ; what though the 
 w^hole world believe not, God abideth true, and my hope in 
 him shall be steadfast.” 
 
 In the latter part of the spring of this year, he had the 
 singular satisfaction of being introduced to a personal 
 acquaintance with one of a kindred spirit with himself,— 
 the late Henry Kirke White. Rare genius, and, above all, 
 sterling piety, could not fail of being greatly admired and 
 highly prized by Mr. Martyn ; he consequently took the 
 liveliest interest in behalf of that extraordinary young 
 man ; and used his utmost endeavors to facilitate his 
 entrance upon that course at College, which afterwards 
 proved so brilliant and so transient. 
 
 The duties of a public examiner in St. John’s were 
 now, in the month of June, for the second time consigned 
 to Mr. Martyn : — the subjects for examination being, one 
 of them from the Classics, the other, Locke’s Treatise on 
 the Understanding. To those who embark in metaphysi- 
 cal disquisitions, it will serve as a matter of caution, — and 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 115 
 
 to those who are harassed with distressing thoughts, it 
 may administer consolation, — to recite, in Mr. Martyn’s 
 own words, the exquisite mental sufferings he endured, 
 after allowing his mind a range of too unlimited a nature 
 in these abstract questions. ‘‘ My soul,’’ he writes, ‘‘ was 
 filled with greater misery and horror than I ever before ex- 
 perienced. — I know not how to describe my feelings, or how 
 I got into them ; — hut it was after metaphysical inquiries 
 into the nature and end of my being, and in what consists 
 the happiness of my soul. I was afraid to leave off pray- 
 ing, and went to bed earnestly recommending my soul to 
 Christ.” I tremble,” said he, on the succeeding day, 
 ‘‘to enter on these inquiries, lest my beclouded reason 
 should lead me to the brink of hell. But I know by ex- 
 perience that the spirit of submission, and a sense of the 
 authority of God, is the only state in which I can ever be 
 happy : and precisely in proportion as I depart from that 
 state of things, I am unhappy. And so strong is this sen- 
 timent, that were it not my hope that I should one day 
 wholly submit to God, and descend to my right place, I 
 would not wish to exist another moment. My trust is, 
 that God will, according to the riches of his grace in 
 Christ Jesus, enable a poor worm, who groans under 
 pride, to advance steadily and humbly to his end, and 
 preserve him from those dreadful thoughts which almost 
 overwhelm the soul.” Thus, when in danger of being 
 “ spoiled by philosophy,” was his soul “ upheld by the 
 free Spirit of a faithful God.” 
 
 It now appeared to be past a doubt, that Mr. Martyn 
 would succeed in obtaining a Chaplainship in the service 
 of the East India Company; .and that in the ensuing 
 spring, he would be summoned to leave the shores of his 
 native country forever. In July, therefore, he re-visited 
 those scenes which were endeared to him by numberless 
 early associations, and enlivened by the presence of many 
 whom he admired and loved. And here it is due to the 
 
116 
 
 .lEMOIR OF 
 
 full illustration of his Christian character to mention^ that 
 it was not merely the ties of family or friendship which 
 bound him to Cornwall ; others there were of a tenderer 
 if not stronger kind : for he had conceived a deeply-fixed 
 attachment for one, of whom less ought not, and more 
 cannot be said, than that she was worthy of him : an 
 attachment which, — whether he thought, as he afterwards 
 did, that it should be encouraged, or as he now did, that, 
 from peculiar circumstances, it ought to be repressed, — 
 equally exhibits him as a man of God, whose affections 
 were set upon things above, and not on things on the 
 earth. 
 
 As this was the first time he had been in Cornwall 
 since his ordination, and the last time he expected ever 
 to visit it, he was extremely anxious to testify the grace 
 of God in his public ministry, whenever he had an oppor- 
 tunity. Such, however, was the prejudice excited against 
 his religious principles, that his labors were almost en- 
 tirely confined to two churches under the care of his 
 brother-in-law. There he frequently preached, and there 
 both his sisters heard him, the youngest with much delight, 
 the eldest with a most gratifying appearance of having been 
 seriously impressed by what fell from his lips. I found,’’ 
 said he, that she had been deeply affected, and from her 
 conversation I received great satisfaction : — in the even- 
 ing, I walked by the water-side till late, having my heart 
 full of praise to God for having given me such hopes of 
 my sister.” 
 
 To the churches where he preached, the common people 
 crowded in numbers. At Kenwyn, — where he addressed 
 them from 2 Cor. v. 20, 21, ‘ Now then we are ambassa- 
 dors for Christ, as though God did beseech you by us ; 
 we pray you in Christ’s stead, be ye reconciled to God. 
 For he hath made him to be sin for us ; who knew no sin, 
 that we might be made the righteousness of God in him ;’ 
 — the church was so full, that many were compelled to 
 stand on the outside, and many obliged to go away. How 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 117 
 
 acceptable he was to those who loved and valued the Gos- 
 pel, may be easily conceived ; yet such was his vigilance of 
 mind and tenderness of conscience, that ‘‘ their commen- 
 dations occasioned him some inasmuch as ‘‘ they 
 
 tended to fan the flame of vanity/’ The Christian, espe- 
 cially the Christian minister, has to pass through good 
 report and evil report ; — and praise is a severer test of 
 the strength of his principles than dispraise. Mr. Martyn 
 ever found it so ; and he experienced himself, as well as 
 exemplified to others, the truth of those words of wisdom — 
 “ as the fining pot for silver, and the furnace for gold, so 
 is a man to his praise Prov. xxvii. 21. 
 
 In the private and more retired duties of his calling, he 
 was now, as usual, most unremitting in his attention : 
 these, in fact, were to him the most delightful parts of his 
 vocation. Happier would he have esteemed it, as far as 
 his personal feelings were concerned, to kneel, as he did 
 frequently with his youngest sister, beside the beds of the 
 sick and dying, than to have had the largest churches in 
 his native country, -thronged with multitudes attentive to 
 hear him : he was of the spirit of that Redeemer, who 
 sought to be hid whilst he went about doing good. 
 
 His habits of reading and prayer, and particularly those 
 of divine meditation, were in no degree relaxed during his 
 visit, and the less so, because he acknowledged that “ he 
 felt an increased difficulty of living in communion with 
 God, where so many remembered him a diflerent charac- 
 ter.” The solitude of the spot where he resided was 
 happily fitted for contemplation : — ‘‘ The scene,” he wrote, 
 in a letter to a friend from Lamorran, ‘‘ is such as is fre- 
 quently to be met with in this part of Cornwall. Below 
 the house is an arm of the sea, flowing between the hills, 
 which are covered with wood. By the side of this water 
 I walk in general in the evening, out of the reach of all 
 sound but the rippling of the waves and the whistling 
 of the curlew.” In these pensive and solitary walks, the 
 great sacrifices he was about to make, could not but force 
 
118 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 themselves frequently upon his mind, and raise the silent 
 and involuntary sigh : but we may be well assured, that 
 ‘‘ in the multitude of the thoughts which he had in his 
 heart, God’s comforts refreshed his soul.’^ 
 
 At length, after having withstood in Cornwall, as well 
 as at Cambridge, the arguments of those who at all 
 events would have detained him in England,” — arguments 
 of which he confesses that some were not without 
 weight,” — he prepared to leave that part of his native 
 country which was peculiarly dear to his feeling and 
 affectionate heart. 
 
 The separations of Christians from each other, in this 
 world of mutability, afflictive as they ever must be, have 
 their peculiar alleviations : they know that Christ fills 
 all things ;” — and they have the blissful expectation of an 
 endless re-union in that world of glory whither they are 
 hastening. 
 
 Mr. Martyn, with respect to several from whom he was 
 now to part, could fully indulge in these animated antici- 
 pations : but he could not as it respected all. The follow- 
 ing is a mournful record of a final interview, overclouded 
 
 by the gloom of an almost hopeless sorrow. “ M 
 
 rode with me part of the way, but kept the conversation 
 on general subjects. If I brought him by force to religion, 
 he spoke with the most astonishing apathy on the subject. 
 His cold, deliberate superiority to every thing but argu- 
 ment, convinced me not merely that he was not only fully 
 convinced, as he said, but that he was rooted in infidelity. 
 Nothing remained for me but to pray for him. Though 
 he parted from me probably to see me no more, he said 
 nothing that could betray the existence of any passions in 
 him. O cursed infidelity, that freezes the heart’s blood 
 here, as well as destroys the soul hereafter ! I could only 
 adore the sovereign grace of God, which distinguished me 
 from him, though every thing was alike in us. We have 
 been intimate from our infancy ; and have had the same 
 plans and pursuits, and nearly the same condition : but 
 
HENRV mart™. 
 
 119 
 
 the one is taken and the other is left. I, through mercy, 
 find my only joy and delight in the knowledge of Christ ; 
 and he in denying the truth of religion altogether,” 
 
 By another farewell which he has also depicted, he 
 could not be otherwise than very deeply affected : but the 
 sorrow was of a character very dissimilar to the last. 
 
 ‘‘Rode before E — — , with L to an old man five 
 
 miles off Our conversation was such as becometh saints, 
 but it was too pleasant for me. I sighed at the thought 
 of losing their company. When we arrived, the old man 
 was out, but his sister, a blind woman of seventy, was 
 
 confined to her bed-, without any comfortable hope. L 
 
 and myself said every thing we could to cheer her, and 
 then I prayed. When the old man arrived, we formed a 
 little circle before the door, under the trees, and he con- 
 versed with his young hearers concerning the things of 
 God. I then read Psalm Ixxxiv, Our ride home was 
 delightful, our hearts being all devoutly disposed; only 
 
 mine was unhappy. Parted with L forever in this 
 
 life, with a sort of uncertain pain which I knew would 
 increase to greater violence.” 
 
 These forebodings were but too soon realized. On the 
 evening of that day, and for many succeeding days, his 
 mental agony was extreme ; — yet he could speak to God, 
 as one who knew the great conflict within him ; he was 
 convinced, that as God willed his happiness, he was pro- 
 viding for it eventually by that bitter separation : he re- 
 solved through grace to be his, though it should be through 
 much tribulation : he experienced sweetly and solemnly 
 the excellence of serving him faithfully, and of following 
 Christ and his Apostles : he meditated with great joy on 
 the end of this world, and enjoyed the thought of walking, 
 as he now does, with her from whom he was then removed, 
 in the realms of glory. 
 
 But Mr. Martyn had not filled up the measure of his 
 sufferings, having not yet bid adieu to his sisters. With 
 the eldest he spent one melancholy evening in exhort- 
 
120 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 ing her for the last time, and endeavoring to comfort 
 her ; and on the succeeding day he took leave of the 
 youngest: ‘‘they parted as if to meet no more,^’ and, 
 overwhelmed with inexpressible grief, could find no con- 
 solation but in mutually commending each other to the 
 grace of God in prayer. 
 
 Thus turning his back, like Abraham of old, on his 
 kindred and his country, and looking for that city which 
 hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God, — Mr. 
 Martyn departed from Cornwall. 
 
 At Plymouth, whither he proceeded, he passed a Sab- 
 bath in a heavenly serenity of spirit, and in the full exer- 
 cise of that faith which is ‘ the substance of things hoped 
 for, the evidence of things not seen.’ There he preached 
 twice ; on Dan. v. 22, 23 : — ‘ And thou, his son, O Bel- 
 shazzar, hast not humbled thy heart, though thou knewest 
 all this : but hast lifted up thyself against the Lord of 
 heaven ; and they have brought the vessels of his house 
 before thee, and thou, and thy lords, thy wives, and thy 
 concubines, have drunk wine in them : and thou hast 
 praised the gods of silver, and gold, of brass, iron, wood, 
 and stone, which see not, nor hear, nor know : and the 
 God in whose hand thy breath is, and whose are all thy 
 ways, hast thou not glorified and on Rev. xxii. 17 : — 
 ‘And the Spirit and the bride say. Come : And let him 
 that heareth say. Come : And let him that is athirst 
 come : and whosoever will, let him take the water of life 
 freely.’ — “ His soul longed,” he said, “ for the eternal 
 world, and he could see nothing on earth for which he 
 would wish to live another hour.” At this place an inci- 
 dent occurred indicative as well of his extraordinary 
 humility, as of that extreme temerity of judgment, in which 
 those who make a loud, though, in the main, a genuine, 
 profession of religion, are too apt to indulge. Having 
 expounded the Scriptures, and prayed with many who 
 assembled to listen to his parting words, he discovered 
 that there were some present who ventured to express a 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 121 
 
 douht of the reality of his religion. One person in par- 
 ticular openly avowed his apprehensions concerning him ; 
 — so that his heart was wounded : yet, observed this meek 
 and lowly man of God, I was thankful to God for ad- 
 monishing me, and my gratitude to the man was, I think, 
 unfeigned.’’ Such was his recorded comment at the 
 time : — and it is noted afterwards in his journal, that this 
 very person was especially remembered by him in his 
 prayers. 
 
 From Plymouth, where his sorrow was painfully re- 
 newed, by being separated from a family nearly related 
 and greatly endeared to him, he proceeded to London ; 
 during which journey he sought, according to his settled 
 custom, to render his conversation profitable to his fellow- 
 travellers : and in one instance on this occasion, his 
 attempts were not, it may be hoped, unattended with suc- 
 cess. He had for his companion a young French officer 
 on his parole ; — a Protestant, who had been accustomed, 
 he found, to attend to morning and evening prayer, and to 
 read his Bible, which he had unfortunately lost when he 
 was taken prisoner. But his views of the Gospel appear- 
 ing to Mr. Martyn very defective ; he explained to him 
 his state by nature ; his condemnation by the law ; the 
 necessity of regeneration ; and of free salvation by Christ ; 
 and the promise of the Spirit.” The young man paid 
 much attention to these admonitions, and expressed great 
 affection for his adviser ; who afterwards presented him 
 with a French Testament, and corresponded with him on 
 those important topics which he had set before him. 
 
 Change of place and circumstances did not prevent Mr. 
 Martyn from communion with that Lord and Saviour, 
 who is everywhere, and who was with him whithersoever 
 he went. On this journey, when leaving Bath early in 
 the morning, ‘‘ he found his soul ascending to God with 
 divine sweetness. Nothing seemed desirable but to glorify 
 Him : all creatures were as nothing.” Towards the 
 evening, as they drew near London, he was delightfully 
 11 
 
122 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 engaged in meditation on the latter part of the second 
 chapter of the Epistle to fhe Ephesians, ‘^ contemplating 
 the building as it was rising, and as it would be when 
 finished.” “ O the transcendent glory,” said he, “ of this 
 temple of souls, lively stones, perfect in all its parts, the 
 purchase and the work of God.” 
 
 On the 18th of September, we find Mr. Martyn again 
 quietly settled at Cambridge ; — from whence his youngest 
 sister received a letter from him, of which the following is 
 an extract; and so excellent, surely, is the spirit which 
 pervades it, that tears of thankfulness for possessing such 
 a brother, must have mingled themselves with those which 
 she could not but shed abundantly on account of his 
 departure. 
 
 “We should consider it as a sign for good, my dearest 
 
 S , when the Lord reveals to us the almost desperate 
 
 corruption of our hearts. For, if he causes us to groan 
 under it, as an insupportable burden, he will, we may 
 hope, in his own time, give us deliverance. The pride 
 which I see dwelling in my own heart, producing there 
 the most obstinate hardness, I can truly say my soul 
 abhors. I see it to be unreasonable, I feel it to be tor- 
 menting. When I sometimes offer up supplications, with 
 strong crying to God, to bring down my spirit into the 
 dust, I endeavor calmly to contemplate the infinite majesty 
 of the most high God, and my own meanness and wicked- 
 ness. Or else I quietly tell the Lord, who knows the 
 heart, that I would give him all the glory of every thing if 
 I could. But the most effectual way I have ever found, 
 is to lead away my thoughts from myself and my own 
 concerns, by praying for all my friends ; for the church, 
 the world, the nation ; and, especially, by beseeching, that 
 God would glorify his own great name, by converting all 
 nations to the obedience of faith ; — also by praying that 
 he would put more abundant honor on those Christians 
 whom he seems to have honored especially, and whom we 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 123 
 
 see to be manifestly our superiors. This is at least a 
 positive act of humility, and it is certain that not only will 
 a good principle produce a good act, but the act will in- 
 crease the principle. But even after doing all this, there 
 will often arise a certain self-complacency which has need 
 to be checked ; and in conversation with Christian friends, 
 we should be careful, I think, how self is introduced. 
 Unless we think that good will be done, self should be 
 kept in the back ground and mortified. We are bound 
 to be servants of all, ministering to their pleasure as far 
 as will be to their profit. We are to ^ook not at our 
 own things, but at the things of others.’ Be assured, my 
 
 dear S , that, night and day, making mention of you 
 
 in my prayers, I desire of God to give you to see the 
 depth of pride and iniquity in your heart, yet not to be 
 discouraged at the sight of it; that you may perceive 
 yourself deserving to be cast out with abhorrence from 
 God’s presence, and then may walk in continual poverty 
 of spirit and the simplicity of a little child. Pray, too, 
 that I may know something of humility. Blessed grace 1 
 how it smooths the furrows of care, and gilds the dark 
 paths of life ! It will make us kind, tender-hearted, 
 affable, and enable us to do more for God and the Gospel 
 than the most fervent zeal without it. 
 
 I am here without a companion ; — at first the change 
 from the agreeable society in Cornwall, as also from that 
 which I enjoyed at Plymouth, was very irksome ; — but it 
 is good for me !” 
 
 His journal at this period contains many observations 
 accordant with the last sentence in this letter : his mind 
 naturally often recurred with fond and mournful recollec- 
 tions to Cornwall. But he endeavored to check such 
 thoughts as savoring ‘^too much of earthliness and dis- 
 content I” — knowing that ‘‘ he ought to be happy, wherever 
 God had placed him and ‘‘ being sure that the exchange 
 he was soon to make, of College for a stormy ocean, an<l 
 
124 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 the burning plains of India, would not be very pleasant 
 to the flesh.” 
 
 The happiness Mr. Martyn enjoyed in prosecuting his 
 ministerial vocation, received at this time a wonderful 
 increase : whilst suffering the will of God with the meek 
 resignation of faith, he was enabled to do it with all the 
 delightful fervency of love. ‘‘ Blessed be God,” he found 
 reason to say, with exceeding joy and gratitude, I feel 
 myself to he his minister. This thought, which I can 
 hardly describe, came, in the morning, after reading 
 Brainerd. I wish for no service but the service of God ; — 
 to labor for souls on earth, and to do his ill in heaven.” 
 As far as the external duties of his office ^vere concerned, 
 only this variation occurred ; — he became extremely dili- 
 gent in the humble, but most important work of catechiz- 
 ing children ; giving sometimes a great part of his evenings 
 to the task, and leaving the society he most valued for the 
 sake of it. He determined likewise upon preaching more 
 frequently extempore (for he had already at times 
 adopted the practice ) ; partly from thinking it upon the 
 whole more profitable to himself, as well as to the congre- 
 gation ; and partly from the desire of devoting the time 
 spent in writing sermons to other purposes. He by no 
 means, however, renounced these compositions. On the 
 contrary, he enjoined it upon himself as a rule, never to 
 pass a week without writing a sermon. 
 
 In visiting his flock, and thus ‘ preaching from house 
 to house,’ Mr. Martyn’s perseverance kept pace with the 
 heightened pleasure and satisfaction he experienced in his 
 divine calling : happy, however, as he was, in this work 
 of labor and love, the sympathies of his heart were pain- 
 fully and powerfully called forth by many a scene of ex- 
 treme misery, and his holy sensibilities were yet more 
 acutely excited by the vice and profligacy he perpetually 
 witnessed. The following are some of several scenes of 
 wretchedness with which he was conversant : — ‘‘ In 
 prayer I found my soul composed to a blessed ai^d serious 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 125 
 
 view of eternity. Visited the hospital, and read the 11th 
 chapter of John there, with a poor man, in whose room at 
 the workhouse I was struck with the misery that presented 
 itself. He was lying, in his clothes and hat, upon the 
 bed, dying ; his wife was cleaning the room as if nothing 
 was the matter ; and on the threshold was the daughter, 
 about thirty years old, who had been delirious thirteen 
 years. Her mother said, that the poor creature sometimes 
 talked of religion : so I asked her, several times, before I 
 could arrest her attention, who came into the world to 
 save sinners? After several wild looks, she hastily an- 
 swered, ‘^ Christ,” and then talked on as before. The 
 dying man was almost insensible to anything I could say. 
 He had formerly been a respectable innkeeper in the 
 town; but the extravagance of a son brought him to 
 poverty, and his daughter, who foresaw it, to insanity.” — 
 In the afternoon, I enjoyed solemn thoughts in prayer- 
 and visited several people ; amongst them one poor peni- 
 tent, with whom I had prayed the day before. The desires 
 she expressed amidst her tears were, that God would 
 change her heart, and forgive her, and take her to his 
 mercy. If it was his will, she wished to leave this world. 
 But what, if she should live ? I asked her : she said, she 
 could not say she should not sin, as she was constantly 
 liable ; but rather than return to her former ways, she 
 would be cut in pieces. I was much affected with pity, 
 and preached the gospel of peace with great delight to 
 her.” At another time, when a friend had given him a 
 lamentable account of the gross misconduct of a woman 
 who had made a profession of religion, ‘‘the considera- 
 tion,” he remarked, “quite swallowed up my other 
 thoughts, and brought me to a tender grief and godly sor- 
 row. I went to church, ruminating on it, and could 
 almost say, ‘ Rivers of waters run down mine eyes, be- 
 cause men keep not thy law.’ O that I could feel more 
 sensibly the dishonor done to God, and to his Christ, and 
 to his Gospel ; and the ruin she is bringing on her own 
 11 * 
 
126 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 soul.’’ And, on hearing, the same day, of the death of 
 one whom he had remembered in innocence, and in the 
 bloom of health and beauty ; and who died after a very 
 short career of vice, the account was too much for him. 
 
 My heart,” said he, was ready to burst. When I 
 thought of the man who had seduced her ; and then of 
 many in the University, who had behaved with extraordi- 
 nary effrontery at church, my soul groaned within me. 
 
 0 my God, it is enough ; — hasten, O hasten the day when 
 
 1 shall leave the world to come to Thee ; when I shall no 
 more be vexed, and astonished, and pained, at the uni- 
 versal wickedness of this lost earth. But here would I 
 abide my time ; and spend and be spent for the salvation 
 of any poor soul ; and lie down at the feet of sinners, and 
 beseech them not to plunge into an eternity of torment.” 
 
 How ‘ honorable’ and what a delight the Sabbath was 
 to Mr. Martyn, we have already seen ; it might be called 
 with him a kind of transfiguration-day, when his gar- 
 ments shone with peculiar lustre.”* Can it be deemed 
 irrelevant, then, to advert again to the state of his mind, 
 as delineated by himself, during some of those sacred 
 seasons at this period ? 
 
 Sept. 30. — My mind, this morning, easily ascended 
 to God, in peaceful solemnity. I succeeded in finding 
 access to God and being alone with him. Could I but 
 enjoy this life of faith more steadily, how much should I 
 ‘grow in grace,’ and be renewed in the spirit of my mind! 
 At such seasons of fellowship with the F ather and his Son 
 Jesus Christ, when the world and self, and eternity, are 
 nearly in their right places, not only are my views of duty 
 clear and comprehensive, but the proper motives have a 
 more constraining influence.” 
 
 Oct. 28. — “ This has been in general a happy day. In 
 the morning, through grace, I was enabled by prayer to 
 maintain a calm recollection of myself, — and what was 
 
 * Gilpin’s Monument of Parental Affection. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 127 
 
 better, of tho presence of my dear Redeemer. From 
 the church I walked to our garden, where I was above an 
 hour, I trust with Christ, speaking to him chiefly of my 
 future life in his service. I determined on entire devot- 
 edness, though with trembling ; for the flesh dreads cru- 
 cifixion. But should I fear pain, when Christ was so 
 agonized for me ? No, — come what will, I am deter- 
 
 mined, through God, to be a fellow-worker with Christ. 
 I recollected, with comfort, that I was speaking to the 
 great Creator, who can make such a poor, weak worm as 
 myself ^ more than conqueror.’ At church I found, by 
 the attention of the people, that the fervor of my spirit 
 yesterday had been conveyed into my sermon. I came to 
 my rooms rejoicing to be alone again, and to hold com- 
 munion with God.” 
 
 Dec. 9. — This has been in general a sweet and bless- 
 ed day, — a foretaste of my eternal Sabbath. Preached 
 on the third commandment : in the afternoon on the tenth. 
 Rode back to Cambridge, feeling quite willing to go 
 any where or suffer any thing for God. Preached in 
 Trinity church, on Ezek. xxxiii. 11. ‘ Say unto them, — 
 
 As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the 
 death of the wicked : but that the wicked turn from his 
 way and live : turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways ; for 
 why will ye die, O house of Israel V It was pleasant to 
 me to think of being alone again with God.” 
 
 The year 1804 closed with Mr. Martyn’s being a third 
 time selected as one of the examiners in St. John’s. In 
 fulfilling which office, he speaks of his soul drawing 
 near to God, whilst in the hall ; and of a sacred impres- 
 sion being upon his mind during the examination.” — 
 
 Several of the poetical images in Virgil,” in which he 
 had been examining, ‘‘ especially those taken from nature, 
 together with the sight of the moon rising over the ven- 
 erable wall, and sending its light through the painted 
 glass, turned away his thoughts from present things, and 
 raised them to God. His soul was stirred up to renewed; 
 
128 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 resolutions to live a life of entire independence of earthly 
 comforts ; though he felt that the flesh was very weak/’ 
 
 The last day of the year found him rejoicing at the 
 lapse of time, but sorrowing at his unprofitableness.” 
 ‘‘ So closes,” he remarks, ‘‘ the easy part of my life ; en- 
 riched by every earthly comfort, and caressed by friends, 
 I may scarcely be said to have experienced trouble ; but 
 now, farewell ease, if I might presume to conjecture. O 
 Lord, into thy hands I commit my spirit ! Thou hast re- 
 deemed me, thou God of truth ! may I be saved by thy 
 grace, and be sanctified to do thy will, now, and to all 
 eternity, through Jesus Christ.” His reflections on the 
 following day, the first of that year which was his last in 
 England, carry with them a peculiar interest, as well 
 from their intrinsic excellence, as from the circumstances 
 under which they were indited. 
 
 Jan. 1, 1805. — ‘‘ Hitherto hath the Lord helped me.. 
 It is now about five years since God stopped me in the ca- 
 reer of worldliness, and turned me from the paths of sin : — 
 three years and a half since I turned to the Lord with all 
 my heart : — and a little more than two years since he ena- 
 bled me to devote myself to his service as a missionary. 
 My progress of late has become slower than it had been r 
 yet I can truly say, that in the course of this time, every, 
 successive year, every successive week, has been happier 
 than the former. From many dangerous snares hath the 
 Lord preserved me : in spite of all my inw^ard rebellion, 
 he hath carried on his work in my heart ; and in spite of 
 all my unbelieving fears, he hath given me a hope full of 
 immortality ; — ‘ he hath set my foot on a rock, and estab- 
 lished my goings, and hath put a new song in my mouth, 
 even praises to my God.’ It is the beginning of a critical 
 year to me : yet I feel little apprehension. The same 
 grace and long-suffering, the same wisdom and power, 
 that have brought me so far, will bring me on, though it 
 be through fire and water, to a goodly heritage. I see no 
 business in life but the work of Christ, neither do I desire 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 129 
 
 any employment to all eternity but his service. I am a 
 sinner saved by grace. Every day^s experience convinces 
 me of this truth. My daily sins and constant corruption, 
 leave me no hope but that which is founded on God’s 
 mercy in Christ. His Spirit, I trust, is imparted, and is 
 renewing my nature; as I desire much, though I have 
 attained but little. Now to God, the Father, Son, and 
 Holy Ghost, would I solemnly renew my self-dedication, 
 to be his servant forever.” 
 
 Towards the end of January, a sudden summons to 
 leave England in ten days caused some perturbation in 
 Mr. Martyn’s spirits. Short, however, as the notice was, 
 he would instantly have complied with it, had he been in 
 Priest’s orders, which legally he could not be till the 18 th 
 of February, when he completed his twenty-fourth year. 
 
 The solemn and most impressive rite of admission to 
 the functions and privileges of a Presbyter of the Church 
 of England, w^as administered to him, who had well per- 
 formed the office of a Deacon,” at St. James’s Chapel, 
 London, in the month of March : after which he received 
 the degree of Bachelor of Divinity, conferred upon him by 
 mandate from the University ; when nothing remained to 
 detain him any longer at Cambridge. 
 
 At the thoughts of his departure, he confesses that the 
 flesh betrayed its weakness, but he did not regret having 
 resigned the world ; life, he knew, was but a short journey, 
 — a little day ; and then, if faithful unto death, his gracious 
 reward would begin. Happily for him, such was the 
 divine goodness and mercy, that he was, at this moment, 
 more than ever persuaded of his being truly called of God 
 to preach the Gospel to the heathen. ‘‘ I rejoice to say 
 (he wrote to his youngest sister), that I never had so clear 
 a conviction of my call as at present, — as far as respects 
 the inward impression. Never did I see so much the 
 exceeding excellency, and glory, and sweetness of the 
 work, nor had so much the favorable testimony of my own 
 conscience, nor perceived so plainly the smile of God. I 
 
130 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 am constrained to say, — What am I, or what is my father^s 
 house, that I should be made willing ; — what am I, that I 
 should be so happy, so honored In his journal, likewise, 
 he expresses himself to the same effect : ‘‘I felt more 
 persuaded of my call than ever; there was scarcely the 
 shadow of a doubt left rejoice, O my soul, — thou shalt 
 be the servant of God in this life, and in the next, for all 
 the boundless ages of eternity.’^ 
 
 A remarkable spirit of supplication, likewise, was in 
 this hour of need poured out upon him ; and the sure 
 word of prophecy, predicting the glory of the latter times, 
 was as the dawning of the day and the rising of the day- 
 ^ star in his heart. “ I could not,’^ he remarks, help 
 reflecting on the almost supernatural fervor and deep de- 
 votion which came upon me, whilst I declared that I had 
 rightfully no other business each day but to do God’s work 
 as a servant, constantly regarding his pleasure.” My 
 thoughts were full of what God would do for his own glory, 
 in the conversion of multitudes to himself in the latter 
 day. I did not wish to think about myself in any respect, 
 but found it a precious privilege to stand by, a silent 
 admirer of God’s doings.” 
 
 To be removed forever from many dear friends, and 
 from a congregation who esteemed him very highly in 
 love for his work’s sake,” would have greatly afflicted one 
 of far less affection than that which animated the breast 
 of Mr. Martyn. As for him, his sufferings on this occa- 
 sion were most severe. Those of his flock, likewise, were 
 no less so : they would willingly have renewed the touch- 
 ing scene once beheld at Miletus, sorrowing as they did 
 for the words that he spake, that they should see his face 
 no more.” One old man, — to adduce no other instance 
 of their undissembled regard and poignant regret, — could 
 not refrain from coming to him, that he might commend 
 him solemnly to God in prayer. And w^hen he delivered 
 his farewell discourse in Trinity Church, on these words, 
 (2 Sarn. vii. 27, 29,) ‘ For thou, O Lord of Hosts, God of 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 lei 
 
 Israel, hast revealed to thy servant, saying, I will build 
 thee an house ; therefore hath thy servant found in his 
 heart to pray this prayer unto thee. And now, O Lord 
 God, thou art that God, and thy words be true^ and thou 
 hast promised this goodness unto thy servant : therefore 
 now let it please thee to bless the house of thy servant, 
 that it may continue forever before thee : for thou, O Lord 
 God, hast spoken it : and with thy blessing let the house 
 of thy servant be blessed forever — the whole assembly 
 was dissolved in grief; — thus testifying, by their tears, 
 that their attachment to him was equalled only by their 
 admiration of his character. 
 
 On the third of April, the day after he had preached 
 his valedictory sermon, Mr. Martyn quitted forever the 
 place which had been the dear abode of his youth,^’ — in 
 which he had obtained no moderate portion of honor and 
 reputation, — and in which, had he deemed it right to re- 
 main, he might have acquired that ample share of emolu- 
 ment, which talents such as his never fail to secure. At 
 such a moment, he would have been glad to have been left 
 to uninterrupted meditation ; but many young students 
 happened to accompany him on his journey, and he 
 thought it his duty to enter into religious conversation 
 with them for their benefit. — ‘‘ At intervals, however,’’ 
 said he, ‘‘ I meditated and prayed, — the coldness and in- 
 gratitude of my wicked heart made me feel loathsome to 
 myself; and I longed but for one thing, which was, to be 
 delivered from all my iniquity.” 
 
 The day after his arrival in London, other natural feel- 
 ings were called into exercise ; feelings which it is the 
 design of the Gospel to moderate, but not to suppress. 
 Some hymns, sung in the evening worship of the family 
 into which he was most hospitably received, recalling 
 Cambridge to his remembrance, affected him even to 
 tears; and as he dwelt with melancholy pleasure on its 
 past delights, all his dear Christian friends in it seemed 
 doubly interesting. 
 
132 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 During the two months Mr. Martyn was resident in 
 London, he considered that he could not better employ his 
 time, than by devoting it to the attainment of the Hindoos- 
 tanee language ; and having the advantage of being assist- 
 ed by a gentleman eminently competent to direct him,* he 
 was incessant in his endeavors to obtain that necessary 
 qualification for an Indian Missionary. In order, also, 
 that he might correct some defects in his speech, he at the 
 same time deemed it incumbent on him to attend several 
 lectures on pronunciation : for nothing did he disdain, 
 which, tending to make his ministry more acceptable, 
 might conduce to the glory of God. In the delivery of 
 the great message committed to him as an ambassador of 
 Christ, he was at this time by no means remiss. During 
 the short period of his abode in London, he often preached ; 
 occupying the pulpit, principally, at St. John’s Chapel, 
 Bedford Row, then under the care of the late Rev. Rich- 
 ard Cecil ; from whose holy example and faithful advice 
 Mr. Martyn conceived himself to have derived the most 
 substantial and lasting benefit. Nor was he without 
 another high gratification and privilege; — that of being 
 introduced to the aged and venerable Mr. Newton, who, 
 expecting soon to be ‘ gathered to his people,’ rejoiced to 
 give this young minister, about to proceed on his sublime 
 embassy of love, his paternal counsel and benediction. 
 
 An intercourse with such men as Mr. Newton and Mr. 
 Cecil, was more than a compensation to Mr. Martyn for 
 his detention in London, and for the uneasiness of that 
 period of uncertainty and delay, which is almost as oppres- 
 sive to the spirit as the moment of actual departure. But 
 if he received unmingled satisfaction and abiding profit 
 from the conversation he enjoyed with those eminent 
 Christians, there were others with whom he conferred, 
 who, ‘ seeming to be somewhat, in conference added noth- 
 ing to him,’ but, on the contrary, occasioned him no small 
 
 Mr. Gilchrist. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 133 
 
 measure of disquietude. Once, indeed, these very persons 
 were in the habit of manifesting great cordiality towards 
 him : but novi^ they began to slight him, and in his presence 
 were continually raising disparaging comparisons between 
 him and certain preachers, whose theological sentiments, 
 if not erroneous, were at least far too exclusive ; and whose 
 strain of doctrine, in Mr. Martyn’s judgment, was more 
 calculated to produce ill-grounded confidence, than right- 
 eousness and true holiness. Interviews of this kind he 
 endured rather than enjoyed : they are to be ranked 
 amongst his trials, and not placed on the side of his com- 
 forts. 
 
 The subject of his union, likewise, with that excellent 
 person (lately consigned to her grave) on whom his affec- 
 tions were so unalterably fixed, became at this time a 
 matter of consideration and discussion amongst some of 
 his more intimate friends : and their difference of opinion 
 respecting the propriety of the measure, should it ever be 
 practicable, caused no small tumult and anguish in his 
 heart. 
 
 On the other hand, there were two events, the prospect 
 of which was of the most cheering complexion ; — the one, 
 the satisfactory marriage of his youngest sister, — the other, 
 a hope of being soon followed to India by two of his friends, 
 who, strengthened, if not excited, by his example, declared 
 their willingness to go forth and labor with him in that 
 distant vineyard. 
 
 But as it may administer much profitable as well as 
 encouraging matter for reflection, to those who may here- 
 after tread in the footsteps of Mr. Martyn, his journal shall 
 speak for him at some length during the interval between 
 his quitting Cambridge and preparing to sail from Eng- 
 land. 
 
 April 10. — ‘‘Walked out to buy books, and strove to be 
 diligent in thinking of my subject. When I got into the 
 spirit of it, Christ appeared at time§ inexpressibly precious 
 to me.’’ 
 
 12 
 
134 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 April 14. — Sunday. ‘‘I felt very unconcerned about 
 men’s opinions, both before and after sermon. Before it, 
 I could solemnly appeal to God, and found comfort and 
 pleasure in doing so, — ^that I desired his glory alone, — that 
 I detested the thought of seeking my own praise, or taking 
 pleasure in hearing it. The rest of the evening I con- 
 tinued in a very ardent frame : but, in private, I was taught 
 by former experience to labor after a calm and sober de- 
 votedness to God, and that my fervor might show itself in 
 a steady course of action. My soul felt growing in holi- 
 ness nigh unto the blessed God, with my understanding, 
 will, and affections turned towards him. Surely many of 
 the children of God have been praying for me to-day. 
 May the Lord return their prayers tenfold into their own 
 bosoms.” 
 
 April 15. — ‘‘ O may God confirm my feeble resolutions ! 
 What have I to do but to labor, and pray, and fast, and 
 watch, for the salvation of my own soul, and those of the 
 heathen world. Ten thousand times more than ever do I 
 feel devoted to that precious work. O, gladly shall this 
 base blood be shed, every drop of it, if India caji be bene- 
 fited in one of her children ; — if but one of those children 
 of God Almighty might be brought home to his duty.” 
 
 April 16. — “ How careful should I and all be, in our 
 ministry, not to break the bruised reed ! Alas ! do I think 
 that a schoolboy, a raw academic, should be likely to lead 
 the hearts of men ? — what a knowledge of men, and ac- 
 quaintance with the Scriptures, what communion with 
 God, and study of my own heart, ought to prepare me for 
 the awful work of a messenger from God on the business 
 of the soul I” 
 
 April 22. — I do not wish for any heaven upon earth 
 besides that of preaching the precious Gospel of Jesus 
 Christ to immortal souls. May these weak desires increase 
 and strengthen with every difficulty.” 
 
 April 27. — My constant unprofitableness seemed to 
 bar my approach to God. But I considered that for all 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 135 
 
 that was past, the blood of Christ would atone ; and that 
 for the future, God would that moment give me grace to 
 perform my duty.’’ 
 
 May 7. — Went in the evening to hear . He was 
 
 on the same subject as usual, but without variety. I con- 
 fess I was dissatisfied ; not only because I could fix on 
 nothing that could edify me, but because I could not but 
 think that there wels nothing to offend or detect carnal 
 professors.” 
 
 May 9. — O my soul, when wilt thou live consistently ? 
 When shall I walk steadily with God ? When shall I 
 hold heaven constantly in view ? How time glides away, — 
 how is death approaching, — how soon must I give up my 
 account, — how are souls perishing, — how does their blood 
 call out to us to labor, and watch, and pray for them that 
 remain I” i 
 
 May 16. — I went down v/ith Captain M to Dept- 
 
 ford: passing through an Inn which was close to the 
 water-side, I came at once, to my great surprise, close to 
 the Indiaman before I was aware of it. The sudden sight 
 of the water and of the ship affected me almost to tears. 
 My emotions were mixed, — partly of joy, and partly of 
 trembling apprehensions of my being now so soon to go 
 away.” « 
 
 May 18. — Happening to look over some of my fare- 
 well sermons at Cambridge, I was affected to tears.” 
 
 May 22. — Heard Mr. Crowther preach. At first I 
 could not enter into those humiliating views which I knew 
 I ought to have ; but by stirring up myself to attend, and 
 to mix faith with what he said, and by turning every sen- 
 tence into a petition, I got great good in my soul.” 
 
 May 24. — I felt, more than I ever had done, the 
 shame attending poverty ; nothing but the remembrance 
 that I was not to blame, supported me : whatever comes 
 to me in the way of Providence is and must be for my 
 
 good. Dined at , where I could plainly see I was 
 
 scarcely a welcome guest: the neglect of me was too 
 
136 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 plain to be unnoticed. The weakness of my human 
 nature would have expressed itself, had I not looked up 
 to God, and prayed for a sight of my desert of the scorn 
 of men. The conversation amongst these high professors 
 
 was of course about . One said to me, ‘ his sermons 
 
 are not fine and eloquent , but spiritual — alluding to the 
 first of mine which he had heard.” 
 
 May 30. — ‘‘ Read Brainerd. 1 feel my heart knit to 
 this dear man, and really rejoice to think of meeting him 
 in heaven.” 
 
 June 1. — ‘‘Memory has been at work to unnerve my 
 soul : but reason and honor, and love to Christ and souls 
 shall prevail. Amen. God help me.” 
 
 June 2. — Whitsunday; “ My dear Redeemer is a 
 
 fountain of life to my soul. With resignation and peace 
 can I look forward to a life of labor and entire seclusion 
 from earthly comforts, while Jesus thus stands near me^ 
 changing me into his own image.” 
 
 June 6. — “ God’s interference in supporting me con- 
 tinually, appears to me like a miracle.” 
 
 June 7. — “I have not felt such heart-rending pain 
 since I parted with L~«— in Cornwall. But the Lord 
 brought me to consider the folly and wickedness of all 
 this. I could not help saying, — Go, Hindoos,- — go on in 
 your misery, — let Satan still reign over you ; for he that 
 was appointed to labor among you, is consulting his ease. 
 — No, thought I,-^earth and hell shall never keep me 
 back from my work. I am cast down, but not destroyed. 
 I began to consider why I was so uneasy, — ‘ Cast thy 
 care upon him, for he careth for you.’ ‘ In every thing 
 by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your 
 requests be made known to God — these promises were 
 sweetly fulfilled, before long, to me.” 
 
 June 8. — “ My heart was sometimes ready to break 
 with agony. At other times, I was visited by a few 
 moments of sublime and enraptured joy. Such is 
 the conflict. Why have my friends mentioned this 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 137 
 
 subject? It has torn open old wounds, and I am again 
 bleeding.’^ 
 
 June 13. — Had I a more tender sense of mercy, I 
 should have delighted to write on the subject I had cho- 
 sen. Yet it is very sweet to be desiring such a state. I 
 would wish, like Mary, to lie weeping at the feet of 
 Jesus.’’ 
 
 June 15. — Shed tears to-night at the thoughts of my 
 departure. I thought of the roaring seas, which would 
 soon be rolling between me and all that is dear to me 
 upon earth.” 
 
 June 23. — The grief of the Miss C s, at the de- 
 
 parture of their brother for India, called forth some of my 
 natural feelings. Had I been going from necessity, it 
 would almost break my heart. But I go, from choice, 
 into a part of the vineyard where my dearest friend will 
 be present. On the subject of the mission, I seemed as- 
 sisted to unfold my heart unto the Lord, and to pray for 
 his mighty protection in the fiery trial which is about to 
 try me.” 
 
 June 25. — I heard something about Swartz to-day, 
 which struck me much ; — his simple mode of living.” 
 
 June 28. — Was much struck and affected with the 
 words of a Hottentot woman, quoted in Mr. Biddulph’s 
 sermon. How happy and honored am I, in being suffered 
 to be a Missionary !” 
 
 July 4. — ‘‘ Mr. Cecil showed me a letter in Swartz’s 
 own hand-writing.* Its contents were of a very experi- 
 mental nature, — applicable to my case. The life of faith 
 in Jesus is what I want. My soul might almost burst 
 with astonishment at its own wickedness ! but, at the 
 
 * It is in vain to wish that very large extracts from Mr. Swartz’s 
 Correspondence with the Society for promoting Christian Knowl- 
 edge were published; much of which would doubtless be found 
 ‘^applicable to the case” of Christians in general, and of Ministers 
 and Missionaries in particular. It is said that the whole is either 
 lost or burnt . — See Appendix C. 
 
 12 * 
 
138 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 same time, trusting to mercy, rise and go, and try to make 
 men happy. The Lord go with me ! Let my right hand 
 forget her cunning, if I remember not Jerusalem above 
 my chief joy.’ ■ 
 
 After delivering a sermon to the congregation at St. 
 John’s, upon Acts xx. 32 ; ‘ And now, brethren, I com- 
 mend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is 
 able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance 
 among all them that are sanctified,^ — on the 8th of July, 
 Mr. Martyn left London for Portsmouth : and such was 
 the acuteness of his feelings during this journey, that he 
 fainted and fell into a convulsion fit, at the inn at which 
 he slept on the road ; a painful intimation to those friends 
 who were with him, of the poignancy of that grief which 
 he endeavored as much as possible to repress and conceal. 
 The next morning, however, he was sufficiently recovered 
 to proceed, and was much refreshed in his spirit at the 
 sight of many of his brethren, at Portsmouth, who had 
 come (several from a considerable distance) that they 
 might affectionately accompany him to the ship. Among 
 these was one whose presence afforded him an unexpected 
 happiness. “ To be obliged to give up all hopes of your 
 accompanying me to Portsmouth,” (he had written a 
 short time before to Mr. Simeon,) ‘^is a greater disap- 
 pointment than I can well describe. Having been led to 
 expect it, I seem to experience a painful privation. How- 
 ever, you will not now have the pain of observing in your 
 brother a conversation and spirit unsuitable to the impor- 
 tant work on which he is going. Yet this I believe, that 
 though I have little affection towards heavenly things, I 
 have less towards every thing earthly.” From Mr. 
 Simeon he learnt, to his exceeding comfort, that his 
 flock at Cambridge intended, on the day of his depart- 
 ure, as far as it could be ascertained, to give them 
 selves to fasting and prayer ; — and at his hands he receiv- 
 ed, with peculiar gratification, a silver compass, sent by 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 139 
 
 them as a memorial of their unfeigned affection; for 
 which the following letter is expressive of his acknowl- 
 edgments : — 
 
 Portsmouth y July 11, 1805. 
 
 My dearest Brethren, 
 
 I write you in great haste, to thank you most af- 
 fectionately for the token of your love, which our dear 
 brother and minister has given me from you. O may my 
 God richly recompense you for your great affection ! May 
 he reward your prayers for me, by pouring tenfold bless- 
 ings into your own bosoms ! May he bless you with all 
 spiritual blessings in Christ Jesus ! At the command of 
 God, as I believe, I shall, in a few hours, embark for 
 those regions where your little present may be of use to 
 me, in guiding my way through the trackless desert. I 
 pray that the word of God, which is your compass, may, 
 through the Spirit, direct your path through the wilderness 
 of this world, and bring you in safety to the better country 
 above. I beg your prayers, and assure you of mine. Re- 
 member me sometimes at your social meetings, and par- 
 ticularly at that which you hold on the Sabbath morning. 
 Pray not only for my sinful soul, — that I may be kept 
 faithful unto death ; — but especially for the souls of the 
 poor heathen. Whether I live or die, let Christ be mag- 
 nified by the in-gathering of multitudes to himself. I have 
 many trials awaiting me,, and so have you ; but that cove- 
 nant of grace in which we are interested, provides for the 
 weakest, and secures our everlasting welfare. — Farewell, 
 dear brethren ! May God long continue to you the in- 
 valuable labors of your beloved minister; and may you, 
 with the blessing of his ministry, grow, day by day, in all 
 spirituality and humility of mind ; till God, in his mercy, 
 shall call you, each in his own time, to the eternal enjoy- 
 ment of his glory.*^ 
 
 The few days Mr. Martyn remained at Portsmouth, 
 
140 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 were spent in conversing with his brethren on the things 
 pertaining to the kingdom of God ; and in social supplica- 
 tion and thanksgiving. His prayer, on the day he ex- 
 pected finally to quit the shores of England, will not easily 
 be forgotten by those ^ who bowed their knees together 
 with him to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ 
 it ascended to the ‘ lofty One,’ from the lowest depths of 
 humiliation, and breathed the most entire devotedness of 
 body, soul, and spirit, to his service. His whole demeanor, 
 indeed, could not fail of tenderly affecting, as well as 
 indelibly impressing, their hearts and minds. — One of 
 those then present, who little thought that the task he 
 now so inadequately attempts to execute would ever be 
 assigned him, well remembers his own sensations on that 
 most trying, and yet triumphant occasion : and how com- 
 pletely every thought within him was absorbed in admira- 
 tion of the astonishing grace bestowed on his friend, and 
 in bitter regret at being deprived of his society. Nor let 
 it be surmised that the fondness of friendship has ex- 
 aggerated the sacrifices Mr. Martyn was then enduring. 
 A chaplainship in the East India Company, to many pre- 
 sents advantages highly valued and eagerly sought ; — but 
 considered as a pecuniary provision, it could have no 
 attractions for Mr. Martyn. To him a curacy in Corn- 
 wall would have been far preferable : and at Cambridge, 
 such was his academical fame, that ample emolument was 
 certain. In our estimate, too, of his privations, we should 
 remember, that whilst motives not to be disparaged, 
 carried many with him, far from the happy land of their 
 nativity, — the principles which actuated him w’ere 'partly 
 spiritual. They also had hopes of a return ; their eyes 
 might one day sparkle with joy on the shores where then 
 they were suffused with sorrow. Mr. Martyn had no 
 such anticipations : before him the horizon was dark 
 around, — not a streak of light was visible. He went 
 forth to preach the Gospel to the heathen, and it was his 
 fixed resolution to live and die amongst them. When he 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 141 
 
 left England, he left it wholly for Christas sake, and he 
 left it forever. 
 
 On the 17th of July, 1805, the Union East Indiaman, 
 which was to convey Mr. Martyn to Calcutta, sailed from 
 Portsmouth in company with a large fleet, under the com- 
 mand of Captain Byng ; and two days afterwards came to 
 an anchor in the port of F almouth. An extract of a letter 
 written from this place to Mr. Simeon, feelingly depicts 
 Mr. Martyn’s sensations, when, on awaking on the morn- 
 ing of the 17th, it rushed upon his mind, that his voyage 
 was really commenced : — It was a very painful moment 
 to me when I awoke, on the morning after you left us, 
 and found the fleet actually sailing down the channel. 
 Though it was what I had anxiously been looking for- 
 ward to so long, yet the consideration of being parted 
 forever from my friends, almost overcame me. My feel- 
 ings were those of a man who should suddenly be told, 
 that every friend he had in the world was dead. It was 
 only by prayer for them that I could be comforted ; and 
 this was indeed a refreshment to my soul, because by 
 meeting them at the throne of grace, I seemed to be again 
 in their society.’^ 
 
 The arrival of the fleet at Falmouth was an event 
 wholly unforeseen by Mr. Martyn, who was somewhat 
 agitated at the singularity of the providence of God, in 
 thus leading him once more into the bosom of all his 
 friends.” ‘‘ May the Lord,” said he, ‘‘ glorify himself in 
 this and in every other dispensation !” — Flow trying this 
 dispensation was to him, it will not require many quota- 
 tions fi'om his journal to demonstrate. From these it will 
 be evident, that, delightful as it was to him once more to 
 land upon the shores where he had sported gaily in his 
 infancy, and meditated divinely in maturer age, it would 
 have been far happier for him had a storm in the night 
 hurried him past his beloved Cornwall. But God, who 
 
142 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 doeth all things well, manifestly intended to strengthen 
 his faith, by putting it to a severe exercise. 
 
 July 29. — I was much engaged at intervals, in learn- 
 ing the hymn, ‘The God of Abraham praise;’ as often 
 as I could use the language of it with any truth, my heart 
 was a little at ease. 
 
 ‘ The God of Abraham praise, 
 
 At whose supreme command 
 From earth I rise, and seek the joys 
 At his right hand. 
 
 I all on earth forsake, 
 
 Its wisdom, fame, and power; 
 
 And him my only portion make, 
 
 My shield and tower.’ 
 
 “ There was something peculiarly solemn and affecting 
 to me in this hymn, and particularly at this time. The 
 truth of the sentiments I knew well enough. But, alas ! 
 I felt that the state of mind expressed in it was above 
 mine at the time ; and I felt loath to forsake all on earth.” 
 “ Not being able to reach the ship, I slept at a little 
 public house on the road, where I lay down in the most 
 acute mental misery ; and rose the next morning disturbed 
 and unrefreshed. The morning was beautifully serene, but 
 on account of the tempest within, that very circumstance 
 was disgusting to me. A dark and stormy day would 
 have been more in unison with my feelings.” 
 
 “ I went on board in extreme anguish, and found an 
 opportunity in the sloop by which I passed to the ship, to 
 cry, with brokenness of spirit, to the Lord. The words, 
 ‘Why sayest thou, O Jacob, and speakest, O Israel, My 
 way is hid from the Lord, and my judgment is passed over 
 from my God,’ were brought to my mind with such force, 
 that I burst into a flood of tears ; and felt much relieved 
 in my soul, by the thought that God was thus compassion- 
 ate, and the blessed JiOrd Jesus a merciful and compas- 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 143 
 
 sionate High Priest, who condescended to sympathize with 
 me. In the afternoon, it pleased God to give me a holy 
 and blessed season in prayer, in which my soul recovered 
 much of its wonted peace.’’ Thus did God, in answer to 
 prayer, in some measure refresh his soul. An attempt, 
 also, which he made to comfort another person in the ship 
 with him, served to invigorate his own drooping spirit. 
 '‘They stood together,” as he represents it, "looking 
 anxiously at the raging sea, and sighed to think of the 
 happy societies of God’s people, who (as it was the Sabbath 
 day) were then joining in sweet communion in public 
 worship. But the topics of conversation which Mr. 
 Martyn endeavored to bring before his disconsolate com- 
 panion, had a happy re-action on his own mind : whilst 
 cheering him, he was cheered himself : — " The blessed 
 Spirit of God applied the blood of Jesus to cleanse away 
 his sin, and restore him to comfort and at night he 
 could commit himself to rest, " tossed,” as he expresses it, 
 " by the roaring surge, but composed and peaceful with 
 the everlasting arms underneath him.” 
 
 During his detention for about three weeks at Falmouth, 
 he preached several times in the ship, as well as on shore : 
 and amongst other texts, he addressed his hearers from 
 that most appropriate one, 'Jesus came and spake unto 
 them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and 
 on earth. Go ye, therefore, and teach all nations, baptiz- 
 ing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and 
 of the Holy Ghost : teaching them to observe all things 
 whatsoever I have commanded you : and lo ! I am with 
 you alway, even unto the end of the world. Amen.’ 
 Matt, xxviii. 18, 20. A sermon from Mr. Martyn on those 
 words of Scripture, was well calculated to produce a pow- 
 erful effect on the minds of his audience : for what more 
 striking comment upon the passage could there be, than 
 the very circumstance of his appearing amongst them, 
 upon his apostolical labor of love ? 
 
 On the 10th of August, the signal was made for the 
 
144 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ships to sail, at which time, having been deceived by the 
 information communicated to him concerning the contin- 
 uance of the fleet in port, Mr. Martyn was absent at the 
 distance of twenty miles in the country. The express 
 announcing this mistake, was like a thunderstroke to him ; 
 but, by making all possible despatch, he contrived to reach 
 the Union just in time. That ship, as if by the appoint- 
 ment of Providence, had met with an accident in clearing 
 out of the harbor, which impeded her progress, whilst 
 almost all the others were under way. The commander, 
 as he passed, expressed his displeasure at her delay ; but 
 Mr. Martyn discovered the high and gracious hand of God 
 in this event, and ‘‘ blessed him for having thus saved his 
 poor creature from shame and trouble.” ‘‘ So delusive,” 
 to adopt his own reflections, ‘‘ are schemes of pleasure ! 
 At nine in the morning, I was sitting at ease with the 
 person dearest to me upon earth, intending to go out with 
 her afterwards to see different views ; to visit some persons 
 with her, and preach on the morrow : four hours only 
 elapsed, and I was under sail from England.” 
 
 The anxiety Mr. Martyn had felt to reach his ship, and 
 the joy he experienced at having effected his object, for a 
 time absorbed other and more sorrowful considerations : 
 but when left a little at leisure, his spirits, as he acknowl- 
 edges, began to sink. ‘‘ He seemed backward, also, to 
 draw near to God ; and though, when he did so, he found 
 relief, he was still slow to flee to the refuge of his weary 
 soul.” 
 
 Unhappily for him, during the whole of the 10th, and 
 for the greater part of the succeeding day, Cornwall was 
 still in sight : and who is there, endued with the sensibili- 
 ties of our common nature, but must have been subjected 
 to the most painful emotions, whilst slowly passing for the 
 last time along a coast, where every object which caught 
 the eye, — every headland, — every building, — every wood, 
 served to remind him of endearments that were passed, 
 and of pleasures never to be renewed ? 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 145 
 
 That Apostle, who professed that he was ‘ ready, not to 
 be bound only, but to die at Jerusalem, for the name of the 
 Lord Jesus,’ exclaimed also, — ^ What mean ye to weep, and 
 to break my heart V And he, too, when sailing to Rome, 
 along the ‘ sea of Cilicia,’ may well be supposed to have 
 looked mournfully towards the region of his nativity, and 
 to have thought with pain on Tarsus. 
 
 But Mr. Martyn’s own hand shall portray his feelings. — 
 Sunday, August 11. ‘‘I rose dejected, and extremely 
 
 weak in body. After simply crying to God for mercy and 
 assistance, I preached on Heb. ix. 16: — ‘But now they 
 desire a better country, that is, an heavenly : wherefore 
 God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he hath 
 prepared for them a city.’ On repeating the text a second 
 time, I could scarcely refrain from bursting into tears. 
 For the Mount and St. Hilary spire and trees were just 
 discernible by the naked eye at the time I began my ser- 
 mon, by saying, ‘ that now the shores of England were 
 receding fast from our view, and that we had taken a long, 
 and, to many of us, an everlasting farewell,’ &c. We had 
 made little way during the night, and in the morning I 
 was pleased to find that we were in Mount’s Bay, midway 
 between the Land’s-end and the Lizard ; and I was often 
 with my glass recalling those beloved scenes ; till after tea, 
 when, on ascending the poop, I found that they had dis- 
 appeared : but this did not prevent my praying for all on 
 shore. Amidst the extreme gloom of my mind this day, I 
 found great pleasure, at seasons of prayer, in interceding 
 earnestly for my beloved friends all over England.” 
 
 The dejection of mind of which Mr. Martyn here speaks, 
 and which returned the next day with an overpowering 
 influence, was evidently combined with, and augmented 
 by, much bodily infirmity ; and no doubt would have been 
 alleviated by the sympathizing intercourse of a companion 
 in tribulation, and in the kingdom and patience of Jesus 
 Christ. The original injunction given to the seventy, was 
 given by him who knew what was in man, and who thero- 
 13 
 
146 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 fore sent them ^two and two before his face into every 
 city/ — for ‘ two are better than one, because they have a 
 good reward for their labor : for if they fall, the one will 
 lift up his fellow : but wo to him that is alone when he 
 falleth, for he hath not another to help him up,’ — Eccles. 
 iv. 9, 10. 
 
 England had disappeared, and with it, all my peace.” 
 ‘‘ The pains of memory were all I felt. Would I go back ? 
 O no ! — But how can I be supported ? My faith fails. I 
 find, by experience, that I am weak as water. O my dear 
 friends in England ! when we spoke with exultation of the 
 mission to the heathen, whilst in the midst of health, and 
 joy, and hope ; what an imperfect idea did we form of the 
 sufferings by which it must be accomplished !” Such were 
 the complainings of his spirit, overwhelmed within him. 
 Yet there were moments when he could ‘^realize the 
 realms of glory,” and when ‘‘ all earthly things died away 
 in insignificance.” 
 
 On the 14th of August, the fleet came to an anchor in 
 the Cove of Cork : and there, in a spiritual sense, Mr. 
 Martyn found that ‘ haven where he would be — there he 
 discovered that ‘ heaviness may endure for a night, but joy 
 Cometh in the morning / and he who before had felt ‘ poor 
 and needy, with his heart wounded within him,’ could then 
 say, ‘ I will greatly praise the Lord with my mouth ;’ 
 ‘ thanks be to God, which causeth us always to triumph in 
 Christ ;’ 2 Cor. ii. 14. — After a long and blessed season 
 in prayer, I felt,” he says, “ the spirit of adoption drawing 
 me very near to God, and giving me the full assurance of 
 his love. My fervent prayer was, that I might be more 
 deeply and habitually convinced of his unchanging, ever- 
 lasting love, and that my whole soul might be altogether in 
 Christ. I scarcely knew how to express the desires of my 
 heart. I wanted to be all in Christ, and to have Christ for 
 my ^ all in all ;’ — to be encircled in his everlasting arms, 
 and to be swallowed up altogether in his fullness. I wished 
 for no created good, or for men to know my experience : 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 147 
 
 but to be one with thee, and live for thee, O God, my 
 Saviour and Lord. O may it be my constant care to live 
 free from the spirit of bondage, at all times having access 
 to the Father. This I feel should be the state of the 
 Christian ; perfect reconciliation with God, and a perfect 
 appropriation of him in all his endearing attributes, accord- 
 ing to all that he has promised — it is this that shall bear 
 me safely through the storm.” — What is this, but the hap- 
 piness intended by the Psalmist, when he breaks forth in 
 those words of sublimity and rapture ; ‘ Blessed are the 
 people which know the joyful sound ; they shall walk, O 
 Lord, in the light of thy countenance : in thy name shall 
 they rejoice all the day, and in thy righteousness shall they 
 be exalted.’ Psalm Ixxxix. 15, 16. 
 
 At Cork, Mr. Martyn endeavored to procure an admis- 
 sion to a pulpit in the city, as well as to preach to the 
 convicts going out with the fleet to Botany Bay, but was 
 unsuccessful in both these attempts. On board his own 
 ship, he regularly read prayers, and preached once every 
 Sabbath, lamenting that the captain would not permit the 
 performance of more than one service. This being the 
 case, his usefulness in the ship depended much, he con- 
 ceived, on his private ministrations. Scarcely a day, there- 
 fore, passed, without his going between the decks ; where, 
 after assembling all who were willing to attend, he read to 
 them some religious book, upon which he commented as 
 he went on. ‘‘ Some attended fixedly, — others are looking 
 another way, — some women are employed about their chil- 
 dren, attending for a little while, and then heedless ; some 
 rising up and going away, — others taking their place ; and 
 numbers, especially of those who have been upon watch, 
 strewed all along upon the deck fast asleep,- — one or two 
 from the upper decks looking down and listening such 
 is the picture he draws of his congregation below. The 
 situation of things above, when he performed his weekly 
 duty on the Sabbath, was not, according to his own state- 
 ment, more encouraging. There, the opposition of some,, 
 
148 
 
 MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 and the inattention of others, put his meekness and pa- 
 tience very strongly to the test. ‘‘ The passengers,’^ as he 
 describes it, ‘‘ were inattentive, — the officers, many of them 
 sat drinking ; so that he could overhear their noise ; and 
 the captain was with them. His own soul was serious, 
 and undisturbed by the irreverence of the hearers, and he 
 thought that he could have poured it out in prayer, with- 
 out restraint, in defiance of their scornful gaze.” — “How 
 melancholy and humiliating,” he could not help adding, 
 “ is this mode of public ordinances on ship-board, com- 
 pared with the respect and joy with which the multitudes 
 come up to hear my brethren on shore : but this prepares 
 me for preaching amongst the heedless Gentiles.” 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND OCCURRENCES DURING HIS 
 
 VOYAGE AT ST. SALVADOR AND AT THE CAPE OF 
 
 GOOD HOPE ARRIVES AT MADRAS AND AT CAL- 
 CUTTA. 
 
 On the 31st of August, after having been detained above 
 a fortnight in the Cove of Cork, the fleet, consisting of 
 fifty transports, five men of war, and the Indiamen, put to 
 sea ; and now again Mr. Martyn suffered much both in 
 body and mind ; he became languid and feverish, — his 
 nights were sleepless; and his mental conflict was ex- 
 tremely sharp. My anguish, at times,” he says, “ was 
 inexpressible, when I awoke from my disturbed dreams, 
 to find myself actually on my way, with a long sea rolling 
 between me and all I held dear in this life.” “ To de- 
 scribe the variety of perplexing, heart-rending, agonizing 
 thoughts which passed through my mind, and which, 
 united with the weakness and languor of my body, served 
 to depress me into the depths of misery, would be impos- 
 sible. The bodily suffering would be nothing, did not 
 Satan improve his advantage in representing the happi- 
 ness and ease of the life I had left. However, God did 
 not leave me quite alone, poor and miserable as I was. 
 I was helped to recollect several things in Scripture which 
 encouraged me to hold on. Such as, ‘ If we suffer with 
 him, we shall also reign with him — the examples, like- 
 wise, of Moses, Abraham, and St. Paul; of our blessed 
 13 * 
 
150 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Lord himself, and of his saints at the present moment. 1 
 repeated the farewell discourse of St. Paul, and endeav- 
 ored to think how he would act in my situation. I 
 thought of all God’s people looking out after me with ex- 
 pectation : following me with their wishes and prayers. 
 I thought of the holy angels, some of whom, perhaps, 
 were guarding me on my way : and of God and of Christ, 
 approving my course and mission. ‘ Who will go for me ? 
 — Here am I, — send me.’ I thought of the millions of 
 precious souls that now and in future ages might be bene- 
 fited.” By such considerations as these, — by prayer, — by 
 reciting Scripture, — by praying over it, — by casting him- 
 self simply upon Christ, — and by looking upon pain and 
 suffering as his daily portion (which thought wonderfully 
 served to tranquillize his mind), — Mr. Martyn was carried 
 through a season of great tribulation, in which he might 
 almost have adopted the* words of the Psalmist, ‘Thou 
 hast laid me in the lowest pit, in darkness, in the deeps. 
 Thine indignation lieth hard upon me, and thou hast 
 afflicted me with all thy waves Psalm Ixxxviii. 6, 7. 
 But it is an inspired declaration, that ‘ they that wait on 
 the Lord shall renew their strength : they shall mount up 
 with wings as eagles ; they shall run and not be weary ; 
 they shall walk and not faint nor was it long before he 
 could affix his seal to the truth of this testimony. “In 
 prayer,” he says shortly after this, “ I soon launched 
 sweetly into eternity, and found joy unspeakable in think- 
 ing of my future rest, and of the boundless love and joy I 
 should ever taste in Christ’s beloved presence hereafter. 
 I found no ‘difficulty in stirring myself up to the contem- 
 plation of heaven, — my soul through grace realized it, 
 and I delighted to dwell by faith on those blissful scenes.” 
 Shortly after the fleet had sailed from Ireland, a tre- 
 mendous storm arose ; and though it was the first that 
 Mr. Martyn had ever witnessed, his mind was kept, dur- 
 ing a night of general anxiety and consternation, in per- 
 fect peace. “ He lay, endeavoring to realize his speedy 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 151 
 
 appearance before God in judgment ; — not indeed without 
 sorrowful convictions of his sinfulness, and supplications 
 for mercy in the name of Jesus, but with a full confidence 
 in the willingness of God to receive him ; and a desire to 
 depart.^’ But he was chiefly led to think of the many 
 poor souls in the ship, and to pray that they might have a 
 longer time for repentance, and that the terrors of that 
 night might be of lasting benefit.” In the morning, when 
 the vessel was going under bare poles, the sea covered 
 with so thick a mist from the spray and rain, that nothing 
 could be seen but the tops of the nearest waves, which 
 seemed to be running over the windward side of the ship, 
 — he seized the opportunity of pointing out the way of 
 salvation to one of the passengers, who appeared much 
 terrified ; and most willingly, had circumstances permitted, 
 would he have preached to the whole ship’s company, 
 warning them to flee from the wrath to come, and to lay 
 hold on eternal life.’ The Sunday following, he read the 
 thanksgiving prayer after a storm. 
 
 Mr. Martyn’s voyage, before this alarming tempest, had 
 been far from expeditious. Seven wearisome weeks had 
 he passed, without having proceeded farther than the lati- 
 tude of the Lizard. The wind now began to carry him 
 forward, and about the end of the month of September, he 
 reached Madeira : 
 
 His journal, during the interval between the subsiding 
 of the storm and his arrival at Porto Santo, contains these 
 admirable reflections : 
 
 Sept. 9. — My chief concern was, that this season of 
 peace might be improved : when the Lord gave David 
 rest from all his enemies round about, then he began to 
 think of building a temple to the Lord. Passed many 
 sweet hours of the evening in reading ; — found a rich 
 feast in reading Hooker’s Sermons : the doctrines of grace 
 are a cordial to me. We are now in latitude 46^, long. 
 12°. The sea, which I am looking on from the port-hole, 
 is comparatively smooth, yet it exhibits the moon-beams 
 
152 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 only in broken reflections. It is thus an emblem of my 
 heart ; no longer tossed with tempestuous passions, it has 
 subsided a little : but still the mild beams of the Spirit fall 
 on an undulating surface; but the time of perfect rest 
 approaches.’^ 
 
 Sept. 10. — ^‘Endeavored to consider what should be 
 my study and preparation for the mission ; but could 
 devise no particular plan, but to search the Scriptures, 
 what are God’s promises respecting the spread of the 
 Gospel, and of the means by which it shall be accom- 
 plished. Long seasons of prayer in behalf of the heathen, 
 I am sure are necessary ; — Isaiah Ixii. I began Isaiah, 
 and learnt by heart the promises scattered through the 
 first twelve chapters, hoping it may prove profitable mat- 
 ter for meditation as well as prayer. Read the Pilgrim’s 
 Progress, below, amidst the greatest noise and interruption. 
 Notwithstanding the clamor, I felt as if I could preach to 
 a million of noisy persons with unconquerable boldness. 
 We have been becalmed the whole day. I fear my soul 
 has been much in the same state : but I would not that 
 it should be so any longer.” 
 
 Sept. 13. — “In my walk, my attention was engaged 
 by the appearance of mutiny amongst the men. Last 
 night, the ship’s crev/ and the soldiers refused their al- 
 lowance, and this morning, when they piped to dinner, 
 they gave three cheers. After some time, a seaman was 
 fixed on as the ringleader; and from his behavior, I was 
 not sorry to hear the captain order him to be put into 
 irons. As it was a sorrowful and humiliating thing to 
 me, I retired to pray for them and myself. In the after- 
 noon, I read as usual, and found two occasions of speaking 
 in reference to the mutinous murmurs.” 
 
 Sept. 14. — “ Found great pleasure and profit in Milner’s 
 Church History. I love to converse, as it were, with those 
 holy bishops and martyrs, with whom I hope, through 
 grace, to spend a happy eternity.” 
 
 Sept. 15. — Sunday. “‘He that testifieth these things 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 153 
 
 saith, Behold — I come quickly — Amen — even so — come 
 quickly, Lord Jesus !’ Happy John ! though shut out 
 from society and the ordinances of grace; happy wast 
 thou in thy solitude, \vhen by it thou wast induced thus 
 gladly to welcome the Lord’s words, and repeat them with 
 a prayer. Read and preached on Acts xiii. 38, 39. In 
 the latter part, when I was led to speak, without prepara- 
 tion, on the all-sufficiency of Christ to save sinners, who 
 came to him with all their sins without delay, I was car- 
 ried away with a divine aid, to speak with freedom and 
 energy : my soul was refreshed, and I retired, seeing 
 reason to be thankful. The weather was fair and calm, 
 inviting the mind to tranquillity and praise : the ship just 
 moved upon the face of the troubled ocean. I went below 
 in hopes of reading Baxter’s Call to the Unconverted : but 
 there was no getting down, as they were taking out water : 
 so I sat with the seamen on the gun-deck. As I walked 
 in the evening at sun-set, I thought with pleasure, but a 
 few more suns, and I shall be where my sun shall no more 
 go down. Read Isaiah the rest of the evening ; sometimes 
 happy, but at other times tired, and desiring to take up 
 some other religious book ; — but I saw it an important duty 
 to check this slighting of the word of God.” 
 
 Sept. 16. — Two things were much in my mind this 
 morning in prayer ; the necessity of entering more deeply 
 into my own heart, and laboring after humiliation, and, 
 for that reason, setting apart times for fasting : as also to 
 devote times for solemn prayer for fitness in the ministry ; 
 especially love for souls; and for the effusion of the Spirit 
 
 on heathen lands ; according to God’s command. M 
 
 coming in, said that many had become more hostile than 
 ever; saying, they should come up to prayers, because 
 they believed I was sincere ; but not to the sermon, as I 
 did nothing but preach about hell ; I hope this portends 
 good. Prevented reading below from the same cause as 
 on Sunday.” 
 
 Sept. It began to blow hard again ; — the calm*- 
 
154 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ness and pleasure with which I contemplated death, made 
 me rather fear that I did not fear it enough. Read below 
 with the soldiers.” 
 
 Sept. 18. — ‘‘ Rose ill, and continued so all the day. 
 Tried to encourage myself in the Lord. Looking at the 
 sea, my soul was enabled to rejoice in the great maker of 
 it as my God.” 
 
 Sept. 19. — ‘‘Was assisted this morning to pray for two 
 hours, principally in regard to God’s promises respecting 
 the spread of the Gospel. — Read Hindoostanee and Mil- 
 ner ; — found the men forbidden to go below, so I know 
 not how they are to be instructed ; may the Lord open a 
 way ! — The weather is calm and sultry, — my frame re- 
 laxed to a painful degree, — I am led to seek a quiet, meek 
 submission to every thing that shall befall me. Oh 1 this 
 blessed frame, would that it may continue ! I feel it to 
 be the right disposition of a creature ; approving of every 
 thing, because it is God’s doing.” 
 
 Sept. 20. — My soul was blessed with a sacred and holy 
 reverence in the v/ork of God this morning : it was the 
 sentiment of serious love, such as I should always wish to 
 maintain. To behold God in his glory, and worship him 
 for what he is in himself, I should believe, is the bliss of 
 heaven. Exercised myself in Hindoostanee : — Read the 
 Pilgrim’s Progress to a few below deck : continued to 
 delight in the prospect of preaching in India. The exam- 
 ple of the Christians of the early ages has been a source 
 of sweet reflection to me frequently to-day ; the holy love 
 and devout meditations of Augustine and Ambrose I de- 
 light to think of” 
 
 Sept. 21. — “ I seemed uneasy at the thoughts of calling 
 forth the hatred of the people to-morrow, by preaching to 
 them unpleasant truths.” 
 
 Sept. 22. — Sunday. “Was more tried by the fear of 
 man, than I ever have been since God has called me to 
 the ministry. The threats and opposition of these men 
 made me unwilling to set before them the truths which 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 155 
 
 they hated : yet I had no species of hesitation about doing 
 it. They had let me know that if I would preach a ser- 
 mon like one of Blair’s, they should be glad to hear it, but 
 they would not attend if so much of hell was preached. 
 
 This morning, again, Capt. said, Mr. Martyn must 
 
 not damn us to-day, or none will come again.” I was a 
 little disturbed ; but Luke x. and above all our Lord’s last 
 address to his disciples, John xiv. 16, strengthened me, 
 and I took for my text Psalm ix. 17, ‘ The wicked shall 
 be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God.’ 
 The officers were all behind my back, in order to have 
 an opportunity of retiring in case of dislike. B at- 
 tended the whole time. PI , as soon as he heard the 
 
 text, went back and said he would hear no more about 
 
 hell ; so he employed himself in feeding the geese. 
 
 said I had shut him up in hell, and the universal cry was, 
 ‘‘We are all to be damned.” However, God, I trust, bless- 
 ed the sermon to the good of many. Some of the cadets, 
 and many of the soldiers, were in tears. I felt an ardor 
 and vehemence in some parts which are unusual with me. 
 
 After service, walked the deck with Mrs. ; she spoke 
 
 with so much simplicity and amiable humility, that I was 
 full of joy and adoration to God for a sheep brought home 
 to his fold. In the afternoon went below, intending to 
 read to them at the hatchway, but there was not one of 
 them; so I could get nothing to do among the poor 
 soldiers.” 
 
 Sept. 23. — “ We are just to the south of all Europe, and 
 I bid adieu to it forever, without a wish of ever revisiting 
 it, and still less with any desire of taking up my rest in 
 the strange land to which I am going. Ah ! no, — fare- 
 well, perishing world ! ‘ To me to live’ shall be ‘ Christ.’ 
 I have nothing to do here, but to labor as a stranger, and 
 by secret prayer and outward exertion, do as much as 
 possible for the Church of Christ and my own soul, till 
 my eyes close in death, and my soul wings its way to a 
 
156 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 brighter world. Strengthen me, O God my Saviour ; that, 
 whether living or dying, I may be thine.*' 
 
 Sept. 24. — “ The determination with which I went to 
 bed last night, of devoting this day to prayer and fasting, 
 I was enabled to put into execution.” 
 
 Sept. 25. — ‘‘ Most of the morning employed in Him 
 doostanee. — Read the Pilgrim’s Progress and Baxter below. 
 Had a long conversation with one of the Lascars.” 
 
 Sept. 27. — “ The oaths I heard on deck moved my in- 
 dignation : but I recollected the words of the Macedonian 
 in the dream, ‘ Come over and help us.’ Probably there 
 was no one in Macedon that felt his need of help, but the 
 Holy Spirit put it in this engaging Vv^ay, because they did 
 request as much by their silent misery. So I thought that 
 every oath they swore, was a call on me to help them. In 
 the afternoon, I was told that I could not go below, as 
 there had been fires lighted to air the deck. Went, by 
 way of changing the scene, in a boat, to the Sarah Chris- 
 tiana, about three miles off. It was a novel thing to be 
 in a little boat in the midst of the great ocean. The 
 nearest main land, Africa, was three hundred and fifty 
 miles distant. I reflected without pain that England was 
 eleven hundred miles off.” 
 
 Sept. 28.—“ My thoughts were much engaged, as well 
 as those about me, with the prospect of going on shore. 
 They were doing nothing else for hours, but looking out 
 with their glasses for land. After dinner, on coming out, 
 I saw the majestic heights of Porto Santo, distant about 
 five or six leagues. Again I was disappointed of going 
 below, from the same cause as before. Was diverted from 
 my proper work by looking at a Portuguese grammar. So 
 astonishing is the weakness of my heart, that every trifle 
 has power to draw me from that communion with God 
 which my better will chooses, as my best and beloved por- 
 tion. O for the steady ‘ abiding under the shadow of the 
 Almighty ;’ and as the days pass on, and bring me nearer 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 157 
 
 to the end of the things which are seen, so let me be more 
 and more quickened, to be ready for the unseen world.” 
 
 < By faith I see the land 
 
 With peace and plenty blest : 
 
 A land of sacred liberty 
 And endless rest.’ 
 
 Mr. Martyn’s diligence in his humble and despised 
 ministrations amongst the soldiers in the ship with him, 
 will not have escaped the attention of those who have 
 read the above extracts. It will have been remarked, 
 that there were not many days in which he remitted this 
 work. Nor was his labor confined to the soldiers : their 
 officers were addressed by him with equal earnestness, on 
 every fair and favorable opportunity. With some he had 
 frequent religious conversations. The cadets, also, he 
 endeavored to allure to brighter worlds and to show 
 that he had also their welfare in this world at heart, he 
 offered gratuitously to instruct in mathematics as many 
 as chose to come to him ; an offer which several accepted : 
 and as if this were not enough to occupy his time, he 
 undertook also to read French with another passenger, 
 who was desirous of improvement in that language. He 
 was willing to ‘become all things to all men, that he 
 might by all means gain some.’ How far it were wise 
 in him to preach upon the awful subject of eternal misery 
 immediately after an injunction to abstain from such a 
 topic, is a question which may admit of a diversity of 
 sentiment. Certain, however, it is, that men may be told, 
 
 ‘ even weeping, that their end is destruction and the 
 temper by which Mr. Martyn was invariably character- 
 ized, leaves no room to doubt that his conduct in this 
 instance was influenced by an imperious sense of duty, 
 and by the tender overflowings of love. 
 
 The sight of a foreign land, where superstition held 
 her dark and undisputed sway, naturally excited a new 
 train of sensations in Mr. Martyn’s mind, which he thus 
 14 
 
158 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 communicated, from Funchal, to a near relation at Fal- 
 mouth. ‘‘Yesterday morning we came to an anchor at 
 this place. The craggy mountains, at the foot of which 
 Funchal is situated, make a most grand and picturesque 
 appearance. On entering the town, I was struck with 
 the conviction of being in a foreign country. Every thing 
 was different ; — the houses, even the poorest, all regular 
 and stately, — everywhere groves of orange and lemon 
 trees, — the countenances, and dress, and manners of the 
 people different from those I had been used to, — black- 
 skirted Catholic priests, and nun-like women, with beads 
 and a crucifix, passing in all directions. How would St. 
 Paul have sighed in passing through this town, so wholly 
 given up to idolatry ! I went to the great church, where 
 they were performing high mass, and was perfectly daz- 
 zled with the golden splendor of the place. But all the 
 external aids of devotion lost their usual effect upon me, 
 while I contemplated the endless multitude of mounte- 
 bank tricks the priests were exhibiting. Is it possible, 
 thought I, that this should be a Christian church ! There 
 was no appearance of attention, excepting in one poor 
 African woman, who was crossing herself repeatedly, 
 with the utmost expression of contrition in her counte- 
 nance. Perhaps, said I to her in my mind, we shall meet 
 in heaven.” 
 
 After remaining four days at Funchal, the fleet put to 
 sea, information having been previously imparted to the 
 army, that their object was the capture of the Cape of 
 Good Hope, and that, accordingly, they might expect, ere 
 long, to meet an enemy on the field of battle. 
 
 Intelligence of this nature served to quicken that ac- 
 tivity and zeal, which in Mr. Martyn had not hitherto 
 been either sluggish or supine. He was therefore per- 
 petually visiting, or attempting to visit, that part of his 
 flock which was so soon to be exposed to the perils of 
 warfare. “I entreated them even with tears,” said he, 
 ^^out of fervent love for their souls, and I could have 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 159 
 
 poured away my life to have persuaded them to return to 
 God.’’ — By a sentence in Milner’s Church History, — 
 ‘‘To believe, to suffer, and to love, was the primitive 
 taste,” — he states that his mind, at this time, was very 
 deeply impressed; observing that ‘^no uninspired sen- 
 tence ever affected him so much.” It was, in fact, an 
 epitome of his own life, conversation, and spirit : a lively 
 exemplification of which is to be found in the manner in 
 which, during this part of the voyage, he strove against 
 an extreme and oppressive languor of body, which tended 
 to impede his present labors, and threatened to impair his 
 future efficiency. — “ The extreme weakness and languor 
 of my body made me fear I should never be used as a 
 preacher in India : but what,” said he, means this 
 anxiety ? Is it not of God that I am led into outward 
 difficulties, that my faith may be tried ? Suppose you are 
 obliged to return, or that you never see India, but wither 
 and die here, what is that to you 1 Do the will of God 
 where you are, and leave the rest to him.” — I found 
 great satisfaction in reflecting, that my hourly wisdom 
 was, not to repine, or to look for a change ; but to con- 
 sider, what is my duty in existing circumstances, and then 
 to do it, in dependence upon grace.” So deeply was his 
 soul imbued with the primitive taste,” and so entirely 
 did it accord with that wise maxim of such universal but 
 difficult application — 
 
 “ Tu tua fac cures — csetera mitte Deo.”* 
 
 The voyage from Porto Santo to St. Salvador was ac- 
 complished in little more than five weeks ; during which 
 the special providence of God watched over Mr. Martyn 
 and those who sailed with him. Soon after crossing the 
 line, on the 30th of October, the Union, in which he 
 sailedj passed in the night within a very short distance of 
 a dangerous reef of rocks, which proved destructive to 
 
 Take care to do your duty ; leave the rest to God. 
 
160 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 two other vessels. The reef lay exactly across the track 
 of the Union ; and had not the second mate, who was on 
 watch, called up the captain and the first mate as soon as 
 danger was discovered, they would inevitably have been 
 wrecked : their escape was considered as almost miracu- 
 lous. Pieces of the ships that were dashed against the 
 rocks floated by them, and many of those who had been 
 cast on the reef were seen making signals for assistance. 
 The anxiety on board the Union respecting these un- 
 happy persons was intense : happily they were all saved, 
 with the exception of three officers, one of whom lost his 
 life in endeavoring to secure a large sum of money : leav- 
 ing the vessel too soon, he sunk to rise no more ; and, as 
 it was supposed, was devoured by the sharks which sur- 
 rounded the ships in great numbers. Nor was this the 
 only peril which the Union escaped : on the coast of South 
 America she incurred a similar risk. O how sweet,’’ re- 
 marked Mr. Martyn, ‘‘ to perceive such repeated instances 
 of God’s guardian care !” — During this part of the voy- 
 age, the novel sight of the flying fish beginning to attract 
 attention, Mr. Martyn’s mind, ever fertile in topics of hu- 
 miliation, could discover a resemblance to his own soul 
 in these poor little creatures ; who rose to a little height ; 
 and then, in a minute or two, when their fins were dry, 
 dropped into the waves.” Others, doubtless, would have 
 chosen for him a far different similitude, and would have 
 sought it rather in the eagle soaring into the fields of light, 
 or in the dove of the poet. 
 
 When at length she springs 
 
 To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings.” — D ryden. 
 
 I find (Mr. Martyn wrote on his arrival at St. Salva- 
 dor, to a friend in England) that neither distance or time 
 can separate the hearts which are united in the fellowship 
 of the Gospel as well as by mutual esteem. Mere earthly 
 affections are weakened by time and absence ; but Chris- 
 tian love grows stronger as the day of salvation approaches. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 mi 
 
 Already a watery waste of four thousand miles lies be- 
 tween me and England : but because I have you in my 
 heart, and make mention of you without ceasing in my 
 prayers, you seem yet scarcely out of sight/ 
 
 To another friend he wrote :• — 
 
 Though a long sea is already rolling betwixt us, yet I 
 scarcely seem to have lost sight of you, or of my dear friends 
 at Cambridge. The hymns we sing, being chiefly taken 
 from your collection, daily bring to my remembrance the 
 happy days when I went with the multitude to the house 
 of God, with the voice of joy and praise. Those seasons 
 are gone by ; but I comfort myself with thinking that they 
 will quickly be renewed in a better country, when we 
 come to dwell together in the mansions of our Father^s 
 house.” 
 
 The description of St. Salvador, and the events con- 
 nected with Mr. Martyn’s stay there, we have thus re- 
 corded at some length : — 
 
 Nov. 12. — ‘‘ The coast was beautiful, with much ro- 
 mantic scenery. The town exactly resembled Funchal, 
 but was rather more cheerful. The objects in the street 
 were strong negro-men slaves, carrying very heavy casks 
 on a pole, with a sort of unpleasant note ; — negro-women 
 carrying fish, fruit, &c. — a few palanquins, which are 
 drawn by two mules. The things exposed to sale were 
 turtles, bananas, oranges, limes, papaws, water-melons, 
 tamarinds and fustick wood. I walked up the hill in 
 order to get into the country, and observed a man stand- 
 ing by the way-side, holding out for the people’s saluta- 
 tion, a silver embossed piece of plate of a small oval size, 
 and repeating some words about St. Antonio. Some 
 kissed it ; others took off their hats ; but the man himself 
 seemed to ridicule their folly.. They were performing 
 14 * 
 
162 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 mass in one church ; it was not so splendid as that of 
 Madeira ; many of the priests were negroes. I soon 
 reached the suburbs, on the outside of which was a bat- 
 tery which commanded a view of the whole bay, and re- 
 peated the hymn, ‘ O’er the gloomy hills of darkness. * 
 What happy missionary shall be sent to bear the name of 
 Christ to these western regions ! When shall this beauti- 
 ful country be delivered from idolatry and spurious Chris- 
 tianity ! Crosses there are in abundance ; but when shall 
 the doctrine of the cross be held up ! I continued my 
 walk in quest of a wood, or some trees where I might sit 
 down ; but all was appropriated : no tree was to be ap- 
 proached except through an enclosure. At last I came to a 
 magnificent porch, before a garden gate, which was open ; 
 1 walked in, but finding the vista led straight to the house, 
 I turned to the right, and found myself in a grove of cocoa- 
 nut trees, orange trees, and several strange fruit trees ; 
 under them was nothing but rose-trees, but no verdure on 
 the ground : oranges were strewed like apples in an 
 orchard. Perceiving that I was observed by the slaves, 
 I came up to the house, and was directed by them to an 
 old man sitting under a tree, apparently insensible from 
 illness. I spoke to him in French and in English ; but 
 he took no notice. Presently a young man and a young 
 lady appeared, to whom I spoke in French, and was very 
 politely desired to sit down at a little table, which was 
 standing under a large space before the house like a 
 veranda. They brought me oranges, and a small red 
 acid fruit, the name of which I asked, but cannot recol- 
 lect. The young man sat opposite conversing about 
 Cambridge ; he had been educated in a Portuguese Uni- 
 versity. Almost immediately on finding I was of Cam- 
 bridge, he invited me to come when I liked to his house. 
 A slave, after bringing the fruit, was sent to gather three 
 roses for me : the master then walked with me round the 
 garden, and showed me among the rest the coffee-plant : 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 163 
 
 when I left him, he repeated his invitation. Thus did the 
 Lord give his servant favor in the eyes of Antonio Joseph 
 Corre.’^ 
 
 Nov. 13. — This morning there was a great storm of 
 thunder, lightning, and rain, which awoke me. — I got up 
 and prayed. — Oh ! when the last great thunder echoes 
 from pole to pole, I shall be in earnest, if not before.” 
 
 Nov. 14. — ‘‘ Sennor Antonio received me with the same 
 cordiality : he begged me to dine with him. I was cu- 
 rious and attentive to observe the difference between the 
 Portuguese manners and ours : there were but two plates 
 laid on the table, and the dinner consisted of a great num- 
 ber of small mixed dishes, following one another in quick 
 succession ; but none of them very palatable. In the cool 
 of the evening, we walked out to see his plantation ; here 
 every thing possessed the charm of novelty. The grounds 
 included two hills, and a valley between them. The hills 
 were covered with cocoa-nut trees, bananas, mangoes, 
 orange and lemon trees, olives, coffee, chocolate, and 
 cotton plants, &/C. In the valley was a large plantation 
 of a shrub or a tree, bearing a cluster of small berries, 
 which he desired me to taste ; I did, and found it was 
 pepper. It had lately been introduced from Batavia, and 
 answered very well. It grows on a stem about the thick- 
 ness of a finger, to the height of about seven feet, and is 
 supported by a stick, which, at that height, has another 
 across it for the branches to spread upon. Slaves w^ere 
 walking about the grounds ; watering the trees, and turn- 
 ing up the earth : the soil appeared very dry and loose. 
 At night I returned to the ship in one of the country 
 boats ; which are canoes made of a tree hollowed out, and 
 paddled by three men.” 
 
 Nov. 18. — Went ashore at six o’clock, and found that 
 Sennor Antonio had been waiting for me two hours. It 
 being too late to go into the country, I staid at his house 
 till dinner. He kept me too much in his company, but I 
 found intervals for retirement. In a cool and shady part 
 
164 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of the garden, near some water, I sat and sang — ^ O’er the 
 gloomy hills of darkness.’ I could read and pray aloud, 
 as there was no fear of any one understanding me. In 
 the afternoon, we went in a palanquin to visit his father. 
 Reading the eighty-fourth Psalm, ^ O how amiable are 
 thy tabernacles,’ this morning in the shade, — the day when 
 
 I read it last under the trees with L , was brought 
 
 forcibly to my remembrance, and produced some degree 
 of melancholy. Of this I was thinking all the way I was 
 carried : and the train of reflections into which I was led, 
 drew off my attention from the present scene. We visited 
 in our way a monastery of Carmelites : in the church 
 belonging to it, my friend Antonio knelt some time, and 
 crossed himself : I was surprised,, but said nothing. At 
 his father’s house, I was described to them as one who 
 knew every thing, — Arabic, Persian, Greek, ; and all 
 stared at me as if I had dropped from the skies. The 
 father, Sennor Dominigo, spoke a little Latin. A priest 
 came in, and as it was the first time I had been in com- 
 pany with one, I spoke to him in Latin, but he blushed, 
 and said that he did not speak it. I was very sorry I had 
 undesignedly put him to pain. Had a great deal of con- 
 versation with Antonio, afterwards, on England and on 
 religion. He had formed such an idea of England, that 
 he had resolved to send his son to be educated there. A 
 slave in my bed-room washed my feet. I was struck with 
 the degree of abasement expressed in the act, and as he 
 held the foot in the towel, with his head bowed down to- 
 wards it, I remembered the condescension of the blessed 
 Lord. May I have grace to follow such humility!” 
 
 Nov. 19. — Early after breakfast, went in a palanquin 
 to Sennor Dominigo’s, and from thence with him two or 
 three miles into the country : at intervals I got out and 
 walked. I was gratified with the sight of what I wanted 
 to see ; namely, some part of the country in its original 
 state, covered with wood; it was hilly, but not mountaia- 
 ous. The luxuriance was so rank, that the whofe space, 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 165 
 
 even to the tops of the trees, was filled with long stringy 
 shrubs and weeds, so as to make them impervious, and 
 opaque. The road was made by cutting away the earth 
 on the side of the hill, so that there were woods above and 
 below us. The object of our walk was to see a pepper 
 plantation, made in a valley, on a perfect level. The 
 symmetry of the trees was what charmed my Portuguese 
 friend ; but to- me, who was seeking the wild features of 
 America, it was just what I did not want. The person 
 who showed us the grounds, was one that had been a major 
 in the Portuguese army, and had retired on a pensicm. 
 The border consisted of pine-apples, planted between each 
 tree ; the interior was set with lemon-trees, here and there, 
 between the pepper-plants. We were shown the root of 
 the Mandioc, called by us tapioca; it was like a large 
 horse-radish ; the mill for grinding it was extremely simple ; 
 a horizontal wheel, turned by horses, put in motion a 
 vertical one ; on the circumference of which was a thin 
 brazen plate, furnished on the inside like a nutmeg-grater ; 
 a slave held the root to the wheel, which grated it away, 
 and threw it in the form of a moist paste into a receptacle 
 below : it is then dried in pans, and used as a farina with 
 meat. At Sennor Antonio's, a plate of tapioca was at- 
 tached to each of our plates. Some of the pepper was 
 nearly ripe, and of a reddish appearance ; when gathered, 
 which it is in April, it is dried in the sun. In our way to 
 the old major’s house, we came to a small church, on an 
 eminence, on a plot of ground surrounded by a wall, which 
 was for the purpose of burying the dead from a neighbor- 
 ing hospital, erected for those afflicted with a cutaneous 
 disorder called a morphee. What this is I could not learn, 
 as I saw none of the patients. The major had apartments 
 at the hospital, of which he was inspector. In the church, 
 all three knelt and crossed themselves as usual. I said 
 nothing ; but upon this a conversation began among them, 
 chiefly from Sennor Antonio’s mentioning to them my 
 objection. The major spoke with a vehemence which 
 
166 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 would have become a better cause: Antonio acted as 
 interpreter. By constant appeal to the Scriptures, on every 
 subject, I gave immediate answers. The old man con- 
 cluded the conversation by saying, that he was sure I read 
 the Scriptures, and therefore would embrace me, which he 
 did after the manner of the country. Sennor Antonio 
 told me plainly, at last, what I had long been expecting to 
 hear, that the prejudices of education were strong, and 
 operated to keep his father bigoted ; but that, for himself, 
 he had nothing to do with saints ; in secret he adored God 
 alone. I could have wished more ; it was the confession 
 rather of a liberal than a religious mind. Soon after there 
 was a procession of priests carrying the sacrament to the 
 house of a person just departing ; they both knelt, and 
 continued till it had past. Sennor Antonio said, that he 
 ^conformed to the custom of the country in trifles.’ I 
 thought of Naaman and his god Rimmon. I did not, 
 however, think it right to push the matter too suddenly; 
 but told him, in general, how the English Reformers were 
 led to prison and to flames, rather than conform ; and that, 
 if I had been born a Portuguese, I would rather be im- 
 prisoned and burnt, than conform to idolatry. — At the 
 same time I talked to him of the doctrines of the ^ new 
 birth,’ &C. but he did not seem to pay much attention. 
 Sennor Dominigo asked me if the soldiers had a minister 
 to attend them in their dying moments, to instruct and to 
 administer consolation. For the first time I felt that I had 
 the worst of the argument, and hardly knew what to say 
 to explain such neglect among the Protestants. He shrug- 
 ged up his shoulders with horror at such a religion. We 
 were then shown the hospital erected by the Prince of 
 Portugal : it was a noble building, far superior to that at 
 Haslar. In the garden, each person, alternately, gathered 
 a sprig or fragrant leaf for me. The person who showed 
 it to us, was a chevalier of some order. In the chapel 
 Sennor Antonio knelt ; but always looked on me smiling, 
 and said, c’est le coutume du pays.” I left him in order 
 
HENRY MAlilYN. 
 
 167 
 
 to get on board ; but finding, as I went along, a chapel 
 open, I went in to see the pictures ; all of which contained, 
 as a prominent figure, a friar of some order. In one, 
 some people in flames were laying hold of the twisted rope 
 which was pendant from his waist ; how apt the image, if 
 Jesus Christ were in the room of the friar ! At this time 
 a friar, dressed identically as the one in the picture, moved 
 slowly along; I followed him through the cloisters and 
 addressed him in Latin. He was a little surprised ; but 
 replied. He told me that the chapel belonged to a mon- 
 astery of Franciscan friars. In a cloister which led 
 round the second floor of the building he stopped ; and by 
 this time we were able to understand each other exceed- 
 ingly well. I then asked him to prove from Scripture the 
 doctrine of purgatory, of image-worship, the supremacy of 
 the Pope, and transubstantiation. His arguments were 
 exceedingly weak, and the Lord furnished me with an 
 answer to them all. During our conversation, two or three 
 more friars assembled round, and joined in the dispute. 
 I confuted all their errors as plainly as possible, from the 
 word of God ; and they had nothing to reply, but did not 
 seem disconcerted. A whole troop of others, passing in 
 procession in the opposite cloister below, beckoned to them 
 to retire ; which they did, taking me along with them to a 
 cell, — two before, and one on each side. As we passed 
 along the passage, one asked me whether I was a Chris- 
 tian. When we had all reached the cell, and sat down, 
 I asked for a Bible, and the dispute was renewed. I found 
 that they considered their errors as not tenable on Scrip- 
 ture ground ; and appealed to the authority of the church. 
 I told them that this church was, by their confession, acting 
 against the law of God ; and was therefore not the church 
 of God: I also referred them to the last words in the 
 Revelations. They seemed most surprised at my knowl- 
 edge of Scripture. When they were silent, and had 
 nothing to say, I was afraid the business would end here 
 without good ; and so I said, — ‘ you who profess to teach 
 
168 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 tlie way of truth, how can you darfe, before God, to let the 
 people go on in idolatrous practices, which you know to be 
 contrary to the word of God V They looked very grave. 
 The one who spoke French, and also the best Latin, grew 
 very angry during their dispute ; and talked of the Scrip- 
 turarum interpretes — pii sapientissimique viri Augustinus, 
 Bernardus,* ^ but,’ said I, ^ they were not inspired. ’ 
 
 ^ Yes,’ he said. But here he was corrected by the rest. 
 As this man seemed in earnest (the rest were sometimes 
 grave and sometimes laughing), I asked him why he had 
 assumed the cowl of a friar ;-^he answered, ‘ ut me ab- 
 straherem a vanitate remm mundanarum et meipsum sanc- 
 tum faciam ad gloriam Dei.’ t He spoke with great im- 
 pression and earnestness, and -seemed the most sincere of 
 any. They were acquainted with logic, and argued ac- 
 cording to rule. He began by saying, * nullam salutem 
 esse extra ecclesiam Catholicam, axioma est ‘ concede, ’ 
 said I, — ‘ sed extra Romanam salus esse potest. ’ — * Mi- 
 nime,’ they all cried out. ‘ duare,’ said I, ‘ proba,’ | 
 but they could not. At last I went away, as the sun had 
 set, and they all attended me through the long dark pas- 
 sages. I almost trembled at the situation and company I 
 was in, but they were exceedingly polite, and begged to 
 know when I was coming ashore again, that they might 
 expect me. I had staid so long, that after waiting for 
 hours at the different quays, no boat returned ; and I was 
 obliged to return to Sennor Antonio’s, from whom I re- 
 ceived an affectionate welcome. His wife and slaves, who 
 seemed to be admitted to the utmost familiarity, delighted 
 
 * Interpreters of Scripture — the pious and most learned men, Au- 
 gustine, Bernard, &c. 
 
 t That I might withdraw myself from the vanity of earthly things, 
 and devote myself to the glory of God. 
 
 t That there is no salvation out of the Catholic Church, is an 
 axiom.” Granted,” I replied, “but there is salvation out of the 
 Romish church.” “ By no means,” they all cried out. “ Why,” 
 said I, “ prove it.” 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 169 
 
 to Stand around me, and teach me the Portuguese names 
 of things.’’ 
 
 Nov. 21. — Went on shore and breakfasted with Sennor 
 Antonio. After dinner, while he slept, I had some time 
 for reading, &c. In the evening, he and his wife and 
 a female slave played at cards. I sat at the table, learn- 
 ing Hindoostanee roots.” 
 
 Nov. 23. — ‘‘ In the afternoon took leave of my kind 
 friends Sennor and Sennora Corre. They and the rest 
 came out to the garden gate, and continued looking, till 
 the winding of the road hid me from their sight. The 
 poor slave Raymond, who had attended me and carried 
 my things, burst into a flood of tears, as we left the door ; 
 and when I parted from him he was going to kiss my 
 feet ; but I shook hands with him, much affected by such 
 extraordinary kindness, in people to whom I had been a 
 total stranger till within a few days. What shall I ren- 
 der unto the Lord for all his mercies ! — In my way to the 
 quay, I met a young friar of the order of St. Augustine. 
 He understood me enough to conduct me part of the way 
 to the convent of the Franciscans; till he met with a 
 young priest, to whom he consigned me. With him I had 
 a dispute in Latin. When I said that in no part of Scrip- 
 ture was it commanded to worship the Virgin ; he colored, 
 and said in a low tone, ‘ verum est.’'*' At the monastery, 
 I met with my old friends the same four friars. After 
 regaling me with sweetmeats, they renewed the dispute. 
 We parted with mutual lamentations over one another ; I 
 telling them they were in an awful error; they smiling 
 at my obstinacy, and mourning over my lost condition, 
 I went away in no small dejection, that the gospel should 
 have so little effect, or rather none at all. This was by 
 no means diminished when I came to the boat. It was 
 the commemoration of the Hegira ;f and our Mohammedan 
 
 * It is true. 
 
 t Or the flight of Mohammed from Mecca, A. D. 616. See 
 Appendix D. E. 
 
 15 
 
170 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 rowers, dressed in white, were singing hymns, all the 
 way, to the honor of Mohammed. Here was another 
 
 abomination. B sat beside me, and we had a long 
 
 conversation, and for some time went on very well. I 
 cleared away error, as I thought, very fast ; and when the 
 time was come, I stated in a few words the Gospel. The 
 reply was, that ‘ I was not speaking to the purpose ; 
 that for his part, he could not see what more could be 
 necessary, than simply to tell mankind that they must be 
 sober and honest.’ I turned away, and, with a deep 
 sigh, cried to God to interfere in behalf of his Gospel : for 
 in the course of one hour, I had seen three shocking ex- 
 amples of the reign and power of the devil, in the form of 
 Popish and Mohammedan delusion, and that of the natu- 
 ral man. I never felt so strongly what a nothing I am. 
 All my clear arguments are good for nothing ; — unless the 
 Lord stretch out his hand, I speak to stones. I felt, how- 
 ever, no way discouraged ; but only saw the necessity of 
 dependence on God.” 
 
 After little more than a fortnight, the fleet sailed; 
 whilst many a grateful recollection filled the breast, and 
 many a fervent prayer ascended from the heart of Mr. 
 Martyn, in behalf of Sennor and Sennora Corre : — from 
 them he had received signal kindness and hospitality ; — 
 and it might not perhaps be too much to observe, that 
 ‘^not forgetful to entertain strangers, they had entertained 
 an angel unawares.” ‘‘ I have been with my friend An- 
 tonio,” said he, ‘‘as a way-faring man that tarrieth but 
 for a night; yet hath the Lord put it into his heart to 
 send me on after a goodly sort. And now we prosecute 
 our voyage : a few more passages, and I shall find myself 
 in the scene of my ministry : a few more changes and 
 journeys, and I am in eternity.” 
 
 As the time approached for the soldiers to take the 
 field, Mr. Martyn’s anxiety for their eternal welfare in- 
 creased ; and as a proof of it, he set apart a day for fast- 
 ing, humiliation, and intercession for them, as well as for 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 171 
 
 all who were in the ship. But he did not intercede for 
 them, he observed, as being himself righteous, but chose 
 rather to humble himself with them as a sinner ; earnestly 
 crying to God in contrition and abasement of soul. At 
 this solemn juncture, he began to read and expound to 
 his auditors the holy Scriptures exclusively; and after 
 some consideration respecting the propriety of such a step, 
 he determined not to suffer them to part without prayer to 
 the Lord, as well as singing his praises. Such a proce- 
 dure, he was well aware, would put the faith of his hearers, 
 as well as his own, in some measure, to a strong and 
 severe test. Above, obloquy and contempt might be ex- 
 pected ; below, noise and clamor and scoffs. He never- 
 theless persisted in his purpose, resolving, as the line of 
 duty seemed to be clear, to pursue it steadily, and calmly 
 to commit all consequences to God. To kneel in 
 prayer/’ he remarked in a letter to a friend, ‘‘before a 
 considerable number of lookers-on, some working, others 
 scoffing, was a painful cross to my poor people at first. 
 But they received strength according to their day : and 
 now the song of us all is, ‘ Thou hast prepared a table 
 before me in the presence of my enemies.’ ” 
 
 The unhealthy state of the ship’s company from dysen- 
 tery, at this period of the voyage, was another call on 
 Mr. Martyn’s pastoral assiduity ; a call to which he 
 evinced no backwardness to attend. Often was he to be 
 found by the beds of the sick, administering to them 
 every temporal and spiritual comfort ; till at length he 
 was himself seized by that contagious disorder. His 
 illness was not of long duration, but was such as to make 
 him think seriously of death, and employ himself in the 
 most solemn self-examination. On which occasion, he 
 had so much delight and joy in the consideration of 
 heaven, and of his assured title to it, that he was more 
 desirous of dying than living : not that it was any one 
 thing that he had done (he remarks), that gave him sub- 
 stantial reason for thinking himself in Christ ; — it was the^ 
 
172 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 bent of his affections and inclinations towards God, and 
 the taste he had for holy pleasures and holy employments, 
 which convinced him that he was born of God. 
 
 No sooner had he recovered from this attack, than he 
 was again at his post, — kneeling beside the hammocks of 
 the dying. And amongst those who then required, and 
 received his faithful offices, was the captain of the ship, 
 whose illness, though of a different kind from the prevail- 
 ing one, was highly dangerous, and quickly terminated in 
 his dissolution. 
 
 And now as the year was drawing to a close, and the 
 last Sabbath of it was come ; Mr. Martyn addressed his 
 hearers from 2 Pet. iii. 11 ; — Seeing then that all these 
 things shall be dissolved, what manner of persons ought 
 ye to be, in all holy conversation and godliness in ref- 
 erence to their having left England, — to their having 
 passed through so many perils, — to their being, many ot 
 them, about to meet an enemy in the field, — and to the 
 death of the captain. His own mind, which could not 
 but be in an exceedingly serious frame, was also in a 
 state of the purest joy, and most perfect peace. ‘‘ Sepa- 
 rated,’^ said he, “ from my friends and country forever, 
 there is nothing to distract me from hearing ^ the voice 
 of my beloved,’ and coming away from this world, and 
 walking with him in love, amidst the flowers that perfume 
 the air of paradise, and the harmony of the happy, happy 
 saints who are singing his praise. Thus hath the Lord 
 brought me to the conclusion of the year ; and though I 
 have broken his statutes, and not kept his command- 
 ments ; yet he hath not utterly taken away his loving 
 kindness, nor suffered his truth to fail. I thought, at the 
 beginning of the year, that I should have been in India 
 at this time, if I should have escaped all the dangers of 
 the climate. These dangers are yet to come ; but 1 can 
 leave all cheerfully to God. If I am weary of any thing, 
 it is of my life of sinfulness. I want a life of more devo- 
 tion and holiness ; and yet am so vain, as to be expecting 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 173 
 
 the end without the means. I am so far from regretting 
 that I ever came on this delightful work, were I to choose 
 for myself, I could scarcely find a situation more agree- 
 able to my taste. On, therefore, let me go, and perse- 
 vere steadily in this blessed undertaking; through the 
 grace of God dying daily to the opinions of men, and 
 aiming, with a more single eye, at the glory of the ever- 
 lasting God.” 
 
 On the 2nd of January, 1806, whilst Mr. Martyn was 
 in the act of commending his flock to God in prayer, the 
 high lands of the Cape became visible, at eighty miles 
 distance : and doubtless they were not seen without excit- 
 ing the strongest emotions in many hearts : numbers were 
 soon there to assemble, who should meet no more till all 
 nations were gathered before the tribunal of Christ. 
 
 On the 3rd the fleet anchored, and the signal was in- 
 stantly given for the soldiers to prepare to land. But how 
 then was Mr. Martyn’s holy and affectionate soul grieved, 
 to witness the dreadful levity concerning death which 
 almost universally prevailed ! ‘‘ It was,” said he, ‘‘ a 
 
 melancholy scene. I could speak to none of my people 
 
 but to Corporal B , and ; I said also to Serjeant 
 
 G , ‘ It is now high time to be decided in religion.’ 
 
 He replied with a sigh. Poor Corporal B and the 
 
 others gave me a last affecting look after they were in the 
 boats. I retired to pray, and found delightful access to 
 God, and freedom in prayer for the poor soldiers.” The 
 Indiamen being then ordered to get under weigh, and the 
 men of war drawn up close to the shore, a landing was 
 effected, and soon after seven the next day, as Mr. Martyn 
 describes it, a most tremendous fire of artillery began 
 behind a mountain abreast of the ships. It seemed as if 
 the mountain itself was torn by intestine convulsions. 
 The smoke arose from a lesser eminence on the right of 
 the hill; and, on the top of it, troops v/ere seen marching, 
 down the further declivity. Then came such a long-drawni 
 
174 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 fire of musketry, that I could not conceive any thing like 
 it. We all shuddered at considering what a multitude of 
 souls must be passing into eternity. The poor ladies were 
 in a dreadful condition ; every peal seemed to go through 
 their hearts. I have just been endeavoring to do what 1 
 can to keep up their spirits. The sound is now retiring ; 
 and the enemy are seen retreating along the low ground 
 on the right side towards the town.” 
 
 With the hope of being useful to the wounded and dying 
 in the field of battle, Mr. Martyn, after this period of 
 torturing suspense, went on shore ; and in the following 
 letter to Mr. Simeon, he states what he endured whilst 
 engaged in that disinterested errand of love and mercy. 
 
 Union, Table Bay, Jan. 7, 1806. 
 
 I embraced the opportunity of getting to the wounded 
 men, soon after my landing. A party of the company's 
 troops were ordered to repair to the field of battle, to bring 
 
 away the wounded, under the command of Major , 
 
 whom I knew. By his permission, I attached myself to 
 them, and marched six miles over a soft burning sand, 
 till we reached the fatal spot. We found several but 
 slightly hurt : and these we left for a while, after seeing 
 their wounds dressed by a surgeon. A little onward were 
 three mortally wounded. One of them, on being asked, 
 ^ where he was struck,’ opened his shirt and showed a 
 wound in his left breast. The blood which he was spit- 
 ting showed that he had been shot through the lungs. As 
 I spread my great coat over him, by the surgeon’s desire, 
 who passed on without attempting to save him, I spoke of 
 the blessed Gospel, and besought him to look to Jesus 
 Christ for salvation. He was surprised, but could not 
 speak ; and I was obliged to leave him, in order to reach 
 the troops, from whom the officers, out of regard to my 
 safety, would not allow me to be separated. Among sev- 
 eral others, some wounded, and some dead, was Captain 
 — ; who was shot by a rifleman. We all stopped for a, 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 175 
 
 while, to gaze, in pensive silence, on his pale body ; and 
 then passed on to witness more proofs of the sin and mis- 
 ery of fallen man. Descending into the plain, where the 
 main body of each army had met, I saw some of the 59th, 
 one of whom, a corporal, who sometimes had sung with us, 
 told me that none of the 59th were killed, and none of 
 the officers wounded. Some farm-houses, which had been 
 in the rear of the enemy’s army, had been converted into 
 an hospital for the wounded, whom they were bringing 
 from all quarters. The surgeon told me that there were 
 already in the houses two hundred, some of whom were 
 Dutch. A more ghastly spectacle than that which pre- 
 sented itself here I could not have conceived. They were 
 ranged without and within the house, in rows, covered 
 with gore. Indeed it was the blood which they had not had 
 time to wash off that made their appearance more dread- 
 ful than the reality : for few of their wounds were mortal. 
 The confusion was very great ; and sentries and officers 
 were so strict in their duty, that I had no fit opportunity 
 of speaking to any of them, except a Dutch captain, with 
 whom I conversed in French. After this, I walked out 
 again with the surgeon to the field, and saw several of the 
 enemy’s wounded. A Hottentot, who had had his thigh 
 broken by a ball, was lying in extreme agony, biting 
 the dust, and uttering horrid imprecations upon the Dutch. 
 I told him that he ought to pray for his enemies ; and after 
 telling the poor wretched man of the gospel, I begged him 
 to pray to Jesus Christ. But our conversation was soon 
 interrupted : for, in the absence of the surgeon, who was 
 gone back for his instruments, a Highland soldier came 
 up, and challenged me with the words, ‘ Who are you V 
 ‘ An Englishman.’ ^ No,’ said he, ‘ you are French,’ and 
 began to present his piece. As I saw that he was rather 
 intoxicated, and did not know but that he might actually 
 fire out of mere wantonness, I sprang up towards him, and 
 told him, that if he doubted my word, he might take me 
 as his prisoner to the English camp, — but that I certainly 
 
176 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 was an English clergyman. This pacified him, and he 
 behaved with great respect. The surgeon, on examining 
 the wound, said the man must die, and so left him. At 
 length, I found an opportunity of returning, as I much 
 wished, in order to recover from distraction of mind, and 
 to give free scope to reflection. I lay down on the border 
 of a clump of shrubs or bushes, with the field of battle in 
 view ; and there lifted up my soul to God. Mournful as 
 the scene was, I yet thanked God that he had brought me 
 to see a specimen, though a terrible one, of what men by 
 nature are. May the remembrance of this day ever excite 
 me to pray and labor more for the propagation of the Gos- 
 pel of peace. Then shall men love one another : Nation 
 shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they 
 learn war any more. The Blue Mountains, to the east- 
 ward, which formed the boundary of the prospects, were a 
 cheering contrast to what was immediately before me ; for 
 there I conceived my beloved and honored fellow-servants, 
 companions in the kingdom and patience of Jesus Christ,* 
 to be passing the days of their pilgrimage, far from the 
 world, imparting the truths of the precious Gospel to be- 
 nighted souls. May I receive grace to be a follower of 
 their faith and patience ; and do you pray, my brother, as 
 I know that you do, that I may have a heart more warm, 
 and a zeal more ardent in this glorious cause. I marched 
 back the same evening, with the troops. The surf on the 
 shore was very high, but through mercy, we escaped that 
 danger. But when we came to our ship’s station, we 
 found that she was gone ; having got under weigh some 
 hours before. The sea ran high. Our men were almost 
 spent, and I was very faint with hunger ; but after a long 
 struggle, we reached the Indiaman about midnight.” 
 
 For the detail of the events which succeeded this most 
 
 * Missionaries of the United Brethren at Groenekloof and Gna- 
 denthal, and those belonging to the London Missionary Society at 
 Bethelsdorp. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 177 
 
 distressing day, and the incidents which occurred during 
 his continuance at the Cape, we refer to the journal. 
 
 January 9th. — ‘‘Came on board early this morning. I 
 was so sleepy and languid, I could do little or nothing, 
 and at night was so oppressed with a sense of my unprofit- 
 ableness, — selfishness, — neglect of duty, — that I felt shut 
 out from God. I spread the matter before God, who knew 
 the state of my case ; — still I was wretched from the bond- 
 age of corruption, which seemed to chain me down to 
 earth. Lying down in my bed, my wretchedness was 
 brought to my mind, and would have overwhelmed me, 
 were it not for the blood of Jesus Christ. There was very 
 little firing to-day. In the afternoon a flag of truce was 
 observed.” 
 
 January 10. — “ I have been, through the mercy of God, 
 in a more happy frame than for this week past. Medita- 
 tion on Psalm ciii. 1 — 5, was much blest to me. Oh! 
 what happiness and benefit to my soul have I lost by neg- 
 lecting to praise God. About five the commodore fired a 
 gun, which was instantly answered by all the men-of-war. 
 On looking out for the cause, we saw the British flag flying 
 on the Dutch Fort. Pleasing as the cessation of warfare 
 was, I felt considerable pain at the enemy’s being obliged 
 to give up their fort and town, and every thing else, as a 
 conquered people, to the will of their victor. I hate the 
 cruel pride and arrogance that makes men boast over a 
 conquered foe. And every observation of this sort which 
 I hear cuts me to the very heart ; whether from nature or 
 from grace I do not know ; but I had rather be trampled 
 upon than be the trampler. I could find it more agreeable 
 to my own feelings to go and weep with the relatives of 
 the men whom the English have killed, than to rejoice at 
 the laurels they have won. I had a happy season in 
 prayer. No outward scene seemed to have power to dis- 
 tract my thoughts. I prayed that the capture of the Cape 
 might be ordered to the advancement of Christ’s kingdom ; 
 and that England, whilst she sent the thunder of her arms 
 
178 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 to the distant regions of the globe, might not be proud and 
 ungodly at home ; but might show herself great indeed, 
 by sending forth the ministers of her church to diffuse the 
 Gospel of peace.” 
 
 January 12. — Sunday. ^^Very unlike a Sabbath-day; 
 the whole morning, till dinner-time, was taken up in work- 
 ing the ship from her place to a station nearer the shore. 
 There were so few hands on board, that I was obliged to 
 take my place at the capstan. The wind now blows a 
 hurricane over Table Mountain. I feel myself a guilty 
 creature. Hide not thy face from me, O God.” 
 
 January 13. — ‘‘Went on shore to Cape Town, and took 
 lodgings. Walked about the Company’s gardens, and 
 General Jansen’s, whose family I saw. I felt much for 
 the unfortunate females. Afterwards saw the Menagerie. 
 A lion and lioness, amongst the beasts, and the ostrich, 
 led my thoughts very strongly to admire^ and glorify the 
 power of the great Creator. ‘ Wilt thou hunt the prey 
 for the lion?’ I felt my insignificance, — but for a ran- 
 somed child, the strong hand of God can control all created 
 power, — sweet and happy is it to have ‘the everlasting 
 arms underneath us.’ From the first moment I arrived, I 
 had been anxiously inquiring about Dr. Vanderkemp. I 
 heard at last, to my no small delight, that he was now in 
 Cape Town. But it was long before I could find him. 
 At length I did. He was standing outside of the house, 
 silently looking up at the stars. A great number of black 
 people were sitting around. On my introducing myself, 
 he led me in, and called for Mr. Read. I was beyond 
 measure delighted at the happiness of seeing him too. 
 The circumstance of meeting with these beloved and 
 highly- honored brethren, so filled me with joy and grati- 
 tude for the goodness of God’s providence, that I hardly 
 knew what to do.” 
 
 January 14. — “ Continued walking with Mr. Read till 
 late. He gave me a variety of curious information respect- 
 ing the mission. He told me of his marvellous success 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 179 
 
 amongst the heathen, — How he had heard them amongst 
 the bushes pouring out their hearts to God. At all this 
 my ^ soul did magnify the Lord, and my spirit rejoiced in 
 God my Saviour/ Now that I am in a land where 
 the Spirit of. God appears, as in the ancient days, as 
 in the generation of old, let a double portion of that 
 Spirit rest upon this unworthy head, that I may go forth 
 to my work ‘ rejoicing like a strong man to run my 
 race.’” 
 
 January 15. — Rose early, and obtained a serene and 
 tender spirit from God.” 
 
 January 16. — ‘‘Walked with brother Read, and was 
 so charmed with his spiritual behavior, that I fancied 
 myself in company with David Brainerd. Sat at night in 
 the open air, with Table Mountain before me, and 
 endeavored to meditate on Isaiah xi. 2.” 
 
 January 17.^“ Had some fervor in prayer for that 
 blessed charity, described 1 Cor. xiii. Walked with Read 
 and continued to increase in love to him ; we met in our 
 walk Vanderlinger, who had been on a mission to the 
 Griquas,” 
 
 January 18. — “Having spoken in an unchristian spirit 
 to a dear friend this morning, I retired in great grief to 
 consider again 1 Cor. xiii. and Eph. iv. 5. I found my 
 soul melted in prayer. Oh ! when shall I learn humility ! 
 Cecil dined and walked with me ; — not finding the mission- 
 aries at home I returned and read Prideaux : after a short 
 prayer I found my soul blest with a most serene and tran- 
 quil sweetness ; my thoughts seemed far from earth, and 
 fixed on heavenly things.” 
 
 January 19. — Sunday. “ The S. E. blew a hurricane all 
 day ; so I could not get to the Pitt, Botany Bay ship, as I 
 had promised. I read prayers to most of the cadets and 
 passengers in one of the parlors of the house, and expound- 
 ed part of iv. and v. of Ephesians. — Visited the hospital 
 with brother Read, and then went to a church lately built 
 for the instruction of slaves. There were about one hun- 
 
ISO 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 dred, sent from fifty different families. A black, who was 
 employed in lighting the candles, was pointed out to me 
 as one who was to go as a missionary to Madagascar.” 
 January 20. — ‘‘Walking home I asked Dr. Vander- 
 kemp if he had ever repented of his undertaking. No, 
 said the old man, smiling ; and I would not exchange my 
 work for a kingdom. Read told me of some of his trials ; 
 — he has often been so reduced, for want of clothes, as 
 scarcely to have any to cover him. The reasonings of his 
 mind were; — I am here. Lord, in thy service; — why am 
 1 left in this state ? It seemed to be suggested to him, — 
 If thou wilt be my servant, be contented to fare in this 
 way ; — if not, go and fare better. His mind was thus sat- 
 isfied to remain God’s missionary, with all its concomitant 
 hardships. At night, my sinful soul enjoyed a most reviv- 
 ing season in prayer, — I rejoiced greatly in the Lord, and 
 pleaded with fervor for the interests of his church.” 
 
 January 21. — “I sent to the governor to offer my ser- 
 vices on Sunday next at the church : — he sent an immediate 
 answer, that he could not avail himself of my offer, but 
 assigned no reason. I was a little hurt, but my soul 
 enjoyed sweet repose in God.” 
 
 January 22. — “ Went with Read to visit the hospital 
 where the wounded English were.” 
 
 January 23. — “Went on board, the S. E. blowing most 
 violently ; I did not think the boat could live it out ; — but, 
 through the mercy of God, we shipped but one sea, and 
 reached the ship in safety. Oh! may I love and serve 
 him with all my soul, till I reach the blissful shore where 
 storms and dangers shall be known no more.” 
 
 January 24. — “ I came ashore and walked with Lieu- 
 tenant F , and was much pleased with the sentiments 
 
 he expressed ; and with much affectionate regard for his 
 welfare, I suggested to him some advice. At night, the 
 Lord helped me to plead long and earnestly for the ingath- 
 ering of the heathen.” 
 
 January 25. — “ Employed in meditations on a sermon for 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 181 
 
 to-morrow; — sat with Dr. Vanderkenip, conversing on 
 metaphysics and divinity. Blessed with especial awfulness 
 in prayer at night.” 
 
 January 26. — Sunday. Had service in the house ; 
 expounded^ on 2 Cor. v. with such dulness, that I felt the 
 greatest shame before God. Walked near the sea, and 
 talked to some French prisoners; — went with Read to 
 the hospital, and left some Testaments. Dear Dr. Van- 
 derkemp gave me a Syriac Testament as a remembrance 
 of him.” 
 
 January 27. — Preached at the hospital. — Many were 
 in tears.” 
 
 January 28. — I went this morning in a wagon drawn 
 by eight horses, to Constantia, with a party of fellow-pas- 
 sengers, and three officers of the 66th, but it was no party 
 of pleasure to me. I was disgusted at the conversation, 
 which was trifling to the last degree. The farmer was 
 very civil, and gave me some of the celebrated wine. 
 The road was over a plain covered with beautiful shrubs ; 
 — ^there being no house there that was public, we went 
 to one two miles off : — here I walked on the heath alone, 
 seeking after God. Walked with brother Read in the 
 gardensj and continued to have much conversation on the 
 mission ; on our conversion ; and on the work of grace in 
 the heart. How profitable and heart-enlivening is con- 
 versation on experimental religion, when carried on with- 
 out pride or display of great experience ! Preached at 
 the hospital. In my walk home by the sea-side, I sighed 
 
 on thinking of L , with whom I had stood on the 
 
 shore before coming away, and of the long seas that were 
 rolling between us ; but felt cheerful and strong in spirit 
 to fulfil the word of God.” 
 
 January 30. — ‘‘ Rose at five, and began to ascend 
 
 Table Mountain at six, with S and M . I went 
 
 on chiefly alone. I thought of the Christian life, — what 
 uphill work it is, — and yet there are streams flowing down 
 16 
 
182 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 from the top just as there was water coming down by the 
 Kloof, by which we ascended. Towards the top it was 
 very steep, but the hope of being soon at the summit, en- 
 couraged me to ascend very lightly. As the Kloof opened, 
 a beautiful flame-colored flower appeared in a little green 
 hollow, waving in the breeze. It seemed to be an em- 
 blem of the beauty and peacefulness of heaven, as it shall 
 open upon the weary soul when its journey is finished, 
 and the struggles of the death-bed are over. We walked 
 up and down the whole length, which might be between 
 two and three miles, and one might be said to look round 
 the world from this promontory. I felt a solemn awe at 
 the grand prospect, — from which there was neither noise 
 nor small objects to draw off my attention. — I reflected, 
 especially when looking at the immense expanse of sea on 
 the east, which was to carry me to India, on the certainty 
 that the name of Christ should at some period resound 
 from shore to shore. I felt commanded to wait in silence, 
 and see how God would bring his promises to pass. We 
 began to descend at half-past two. Whilst sitting to rest 
 myself towards night, I began to reflect with death-like 
 despondency on my friendless condition. Not that I 
 wanted any of the comforts of life, but I wanted those 
 kind friends who loved me, and in whose company I used 
 to find such delight after my fatigues. And then, re- 
 membering that I should never see them more, I felt one 
 of those keen pangs of misery that occasionally shoot 
 across my breast. It seemed like a dream, that I had 
 actually undergone banishment from them for life; or 
 rather like a dream, that I had ever hoped to share the 
 enjoyments of social life. But, at this time, I solemnly 
 renewed my self-dedication to God, praying that I might 
 receive grace to spend my days for his service, in con- 
 tinued suffering, and separation from all I held most dear 
 in this life. Amen. How vain and transitory are those 
 pleasures which the worldliness of my heart will ever be 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 183 
 
 magnifying into real good ! — The rest of the evening, I 
 felt weaned from the world and all its concerns, with some- 
 what of a melancholy tranquillity/^ 
 
 Jan. 31. — ‘‘From great fatigue of body, was in 
 doubt about going to the hospital, and very unwilling to 
 go. However, I went, and preached with more freedom 
 than ever I had done there. Having some conversation 
 
 with Colonel H , I asked him ‘ whether, if the wound 
 
 he had received in the late engagement had been mortal, 
 his profaneness would have recurred with any pleasure to 
 his mind on a death-bed.’ He made some attempts at 
 palliation, — though in great confusion ; but bore the ad- 
 monition very patiently.” 
 
 February 1. — “ As yesterday evening, so to-day, I was 
 happy with God.” 
 
 February 2. — Sunday. “ The purser of the William 
 Pitt told me they were too busy to have service. Thus 
 have these men contrived to prevent the word of God from 
 being preached to the poor women, each Sunday as it 
 came.” 
 
 February 4. — “Read the Scriptures without a relish 
 for them ,* and God’s presence withdrawn. How dark 
 and wretched this state of the soul !” 
 
 February 5. — “Rose early; walked out discouraged 
 at the small progress I make in the eastern languages. 
 My state of bodily and mental indolence were becoming 
 so alarming, that I struggled hard against both, crying 
 to God for strength. Notwithstanding the reluctance in 
 my own heart, I went to the hospital and preached on 
 Matt. xi. 28; from this time I enjoyed peace and happi- 
 ness. Dr. Vanderkemp called to take leave. I accompa- 
 nied him and brother Smith out of the town, with their 
 two wagons. The dear old man showed much affection, 
 and gave me advice, and a blessing at parting. While 
 we were standing to take leave. Roster, a Dutch mis- 
 sionary, was just entering the town with his bundle, 
 having been driven from his place of residence. Brotheiv 
 
184 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Read also, appeared from another quarter, though we 
 thought he had gone to sea. These, with Yons,* and 
 myself, made six missionaries, who, in a few minutes, all 
 parted again/’ 
 
 In the commencement of the voyage from the Cape, 
 which took place not many days after this short but most 
 interesting meeting, Mr. Martyn’s patience was exercised, 
 as before, by the tediousness of the passage, — by sick- 
 ness, — and by languor. But whether tossed on that 
 stormy sea which roars around the Cape, or becalmed in 
 the midst of the Indian ocean, or enfeebled by the recur- 
 rence of illness or extreme relaxation, he received all 
 with the meekest resignation, as the special appointment 
 of his God. 
 
 The violent and increasing opposition he experienced 
 from many of the more intelligent part of the passengers, 
 and the discouraging inattention he too often perceived 
 amongst the other class of his hearers, caused him ta 
 grieve on their account, and to humble himself before 
 God.” I go down,” he says, and stand in the midst 
 of a few, without their taking the slightest notice of me : 
 Lord, it is for thy sake I suffer such slights, — let me per- 
 severe notwithstanding.” But though he mourned on 
 their account, he was contented to be left without fruit, 
 if such were the will of God.” Conscious of having de- 
 livered his message faithfully, and trusting that, with 
 respect to both descriptions of his auditors, he had com- 
 mended himself to their consciences, if he had not reached 
 their hearts, his own peace of mind was not affected : and 
 he affirms, that he was ‘‘ as happy as he could be without 
 more grace ; enjoying peaceful thoughts, tender recol- 
 lections, and happy prospects.” How could he fail of 
 pleasantness and peace, when this was the genuine ex- 
 pression of the sentiments of his soul, — ‘T am born for 
 God only. Christ is nearer to me than father, or mother, 
 
 Probably the missionary destined for Madagascar, 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 185 : 
 
 or sister, — a nearer relation, a more affectionate friend ; 
 and I rejoice to follow him, and to love him. Blessed Jesus ! 
 thou art all I want, — a forerunner to me in all I ever shall 
 go through, as a Christian, a minister, or a missionary.’’ 
 The sickness with which the ship’s company had been 
 affected before reaching the Cape, prevailed now more 
 extensively than ever. Many fell a sacrifice to the disor- 
 der ; and amongst others a devout soldier, with whom 
 Mr. Martyn had often united in prayer and praise, and 
 had often conversed on the things of eternity. It was a 
 mournful satisfaction to him to attend his Christian brother 
 in his last illness, and afterwards to commit his body to 
 the deep, in certain expectation that the ‘ sea should give 
 up her dead,’ and he with him should enter into the joy 
 of their Lord. “ Thus,” he says, “ is my brother gone ; — 
 he, with whom I have conversed on divine things, and 
 sung, and prayed, is entered into that glory of which we 
 used to discourse. To his multiplied sorrows upon earth, 
 he has bid an everlasting adieu. May I follow his faith 
 and patience, till, with him, I inherit the promises.” 
 
 Falling in with the trade-winds, the fleet made rapid 
 progress towards India ; and whilst the breezes wafted 
 Mr. Martyn towards the destined scene of his labors, 
 many a sigh did he continue to breathe under a sense of 
 his own sinfulness and weakness ; and many a petition 
 did he pour forth for the people to whom he was sent. 
 He felt it “ good and suitable to walk through this world 
 overwhelmed with contrition and love — receiving with 
 grateful contentment every painful dispensation, because 
 not worthy to enjoy the Light of this world,” — praying 
 that “ God would glorify himself by the gifts and graces 
 of all his creatures, and make him take his place at the 
 bottom of them,, unnoticed, unknown, and forgotten.” — 
 “ Oh! when the Spirit is pleased,” said he, “to show his 
 creature but a few scattered specimens of his ungodly 
 days, — yea, of his godly ones,— how universally and des- 
 16 # 
 
186 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 perately wicked doth he appear ! Oh ! that I knew how 
 to be duly abased ! What shall I think of myself in com- 
 parison of others? How ought I to kiss the very dust 
 beneath their feet, from a consciousness of my inferiority : 
 and in my thoughts of God, and his dealings with me, 
 how ought I to be wrapped up in constant astonishment.” — 
 Then, after setting apart a day for fasting and humilia- 
 tion, he began to pray for the setting up of God’s king- 
 dom in the world, especially in India ; and had such en- 
 ergy and delight in prayer as he never had before experi- 
 enced. ‘‘My whole soul,” he said, “wrestled with God. 
 I knew not how to leave off crying to him to fulfil his 
 promises ; — chiefly pleading his own glorious power. I 
 do not know that any thing would be a heaven to me, but 
 the service of Christ, and the enjoyment of his presence. 
 O how sweet is life when spent in his service ! I am 
 going upon a work immediately according to the mind of 
 Christ; and my glorious Lord, whose power is uncon- 
 trollable, can easily open a way for his feeble follower 
 through the thickest of the ranks of his enemies. And 
 now, on let me go, smiling at my foes ; how small are 
 human obstacles, before this mighty Lord ! How easy is 
 it for God to effect his purposes in a moment ! What are 
 inveterate prejudices when once the Lord shall set to his 
 hand ! In prayer, I had a most precious view of Christ, 
 as a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. O how 
 sweet was it to pray to him ! I hardly knew how to con- 
 template with praise enough, his adorable excellencies. 
 Who can show forth all his praise ? I can conceive it to 
 be a theme long enough for eternity. I want no other 
 happiness, — no other heaven.” With such holy, humble, 
 and heavenly sentiments as these did Mr. Martyn ap- 
 proach the shores of Hindoostan; and, going, as he was, 
 into the vineyard of S. Bartholomew and Pantenus, of 
 Ziegenbalg and Swartz, it was in their spirit that he pre- 
 pared to enter upon his labors. 
 
HENRY 3IARTYN. 
 
 187 
 
 On the Good Friday* shortly preceding his arrival in 
 India, which he passed in prayer and fasting, he repre- 
 sents himself as enjoying, throughout, a most blessed and 
 serene view of Christ. The word of God was very sweet 
 to him, whilst reading the account of the sufferings and 
 death of Jesus. He was entirely withdrawn from all other 
 concerns, and felt his soul cleaving to Christ, his Saviour, 
 in tender seriousness ; — thankful that such days had been 
 set apart by the church. ‘‘ In praying that God would no 
 longer delay exerting his power in the conversion of the 
 eastern nations, I felt emboldened,’’ he observes, to 
 employ the most familiar petitions, by Isa. Ixii. 6, 7. 
 Blessed be God for those words ! They are like a cordial 
 to my spirits : because, if the Lord is not pleased by me, 
 or during my lifetime, to call the Gentiles, — yet he is not 
 offended at my being urgent with him, that the kingdom 
 of God may come.” 
 
 On the 19th of April, Ceylon was discovered, which 
 Mr. Martyn describes as presenting a long range of hills, 
 running north and south, broken in a picturesque manner, 
 though not lofty, with low lands between the hills and sea, 
 covered with trees : and whilst the breezes from the island 
 regaled his senses by their soothing and refreshing fra- 
 grancy, his mind was filled with a train of delightful 
 anticipations; — he was thinking of the time when the 
 name of Jesus should be as ointment poured forth, in 
 temples raised by Cingalese amidst their cinnamon 
 groves ; — and when supplications should there ascend, 
 like clouds of incense, through the merits of the Re- 
 deemer. 
 
 The Sunday after this, presuming that it would be the 
 
 * Good Friday is the Friday before Easter, and is so called on 
 account of the blessed effects of the sufferings and death of Christ 
 on the cross, which are on this day commemorated. Easter Sunday 
 is the great church festival, and celebrates the resurrection of 
 Christ from the dead. E. 
 
188 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 last, Mr. Martyn addressed the ship’s company in a fare- 
 well discourse. The occasion, it might have been con- 
 ceived, was such as to preclude any disposition to ridicule, 
 even in men preeminently disposed to scoffing and con- 
 tempt. But those who had reviled him at first, continued 
 to revile him to the very last. It pained me,” he re- 
 marked, ‘‘ that they should give a ridiculous turn to any- 
 thing on so affecting an occasion as that of parting for- 
 ever in this life. But such is the unthankful office of a 
 minister. Yet I desire to take the ridicule of men with 
 all meekness and charity, looking forward to another world 
 for approbation and reward.” 
 
 And now, after a wearisome interval of above nine 
 months from the time of his leaving Portsmouth, the land 
 which Mr. Martyn had so ardently longed to behold, ap- 
 peared: on the 21st of April, 1806, ‘‘ his eyes were grati- 
 fied with the sight of India.” 
 
 April 22. — ‘‘At sunrise we anchored,” he says, “in 
 Madras roads. Several doolbashes or interpreters came 
 on board, dressed in white muslin. I went ashore in one 
 of the country boats, made very high in order to weather 
 the surf; with the boards throughout sewed together very 
 coarsely with straw, and the interstices filled with it. On 
 shore I was surrounded by an immense crowd of coolies, 
 I suppose two hundred, who caught up one box after 
 another, and were going off in different directions, so that 
 I was obliged to run instantly, and stop them ; and having 
 with some difficulty got my things together, I went to the 
 custom-house, attended by four coolies, a doolbashee, an 
 umbrella-carrier, and a boy, or waiting-man ; all of whom 
 attached themselves to me, without at all consulting me on 
 the occasion. Nothing as yet struck me as remarkable in 
 the country, for the novelty of it had been anticipated in 
 what I had seen at St. Salvador. The number of black 
 people was immense, and the crowd of servants so great, 
 that one would suppose they thought themselves made for 
 the service of the English. The elegance of their man- 
 
HEIMRY MARTYN. 
 
 189 
 
 ners I was much taken with ; but, in general, one thought 
 naturally occurred ; the conversion of their poor souls. I 
 felt a solemn sort of melancholy at the sight of such multi- 
 tudes of idolaters. While the turbaned Asiatics waited 
 upon us at dinner, about a dozen of them, I could not help 
 feeling as if we had got into their places. But now, that 
 I am actually treading Indian ground, let me bless and 
 adore my own God for doing so much for me ; and oh ! 
 if I live, let me have come hither for some purpose.’’ 
 
 April 26. — Towards night, I walked out with Samees, 
 my servant, in a pensive mood ; and went through his na- 
 tive village, Chindaput. — Here all was Indian ; — no vestige 
 of anything European. It consisted of about two hundred 
 houses, — those in the main street connected, and those on 
 either side of the street separated from one another by 
 little winding paths. Every thing presented the appear- 
 ance of wretchedness. I thought of my future labors 
 among them with some despondency ; yet I am willing, I 
 trust, through grace, to pass my days among them, if by 
 any means these poor people may be brought to God. 
 The sight of men, women, and children, all idolaters, 
 makes me shudder, as if in the dominions of the prince of 
 darkness. I fancy the frown of God is visible ; — there is 
 something peculiarly awful in the stillness that prevails. 
 Whether it is the relaxing influence of the climate, or 
 what, I do not know; but there is every thing here to 
 depress the spirits, — all nature droops.” 
 
 April 27. — Sunday. Enjoyed some solemn moments 
 
 this morning. This is my first Sabbath in India. May 
 all the time I pass in it be a Sabbath of heavenly rest and 
 blessedness to my soul! Preached on Luke x. 41, 42; 
 there was attention. After dinner went to Black Town 
 to Mr. Loveless’s chapel. I sat in the air at the door, 
 enjoying the blessed sound of the Gospel on an Indian 
 shore, and joining with much comfort in the song of 
 divine praise.” 
 
 April 28. — <^Had much conversation with Dr. Kerr. 
 
190 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 At night the Portuguese children sung ^ Before Jehovah’s 
 awful throne/ very sweetly : it excited a train of affecting 
 thoughts in my mind. ‘ Wide as the world is thy com- 
 mand, ’ — and therefore it is easy for thee to spread abroad 
 thy holy name. But oh, how gross the darkness here! 
 The veil of the covering cast over all nations seems thicker 
 here : the fiends of darkness seem to sit in sullen repose 
 in this land.” 
 
 April 30. — ‘^Walked by moonlight, reflecting on the 
 mission. My soul was at first sore tried with desponding 
 thoughts ; but God wonderfully assisted me to trust him for 
 the wisdom of his dispensations. Truly, therefore, will I 
 say again, ‘ Who art thou, O great mountain ; before Ze- 
 rubbabel thou shalt become a plain.’ How easy for God 
 to do it ; and it shall be done in due time : and even if I 
 never should see a native converted, God may design hy 
 my patience and continuance in the work to encourage 
 future missionaries. — But what surprises me is the change 
 of views I have here from what I had in England. — There, 
 my heart expanded with hope and joy at the prospect of 
 the speedy conversion of the heathen 1 but here, the sight 
 of the apparent impossibility requires a strong faith to 
 support the spirits.” 
 
 After being detained a short time at Madras, the fleet 
 sailed for the Hoogley ; during which voyage Mr. Martyn 
 again suffered, indescribably, from the relaxation of his 
 frame. He rose in the morning with the deepest melan- 
 choly, and seemed, as he expressed it, left without a mo^ 
 live. He looked forward to an idle, worthless life, spent 
 in India to no purpose. Exertion seemed to him like 
 death, — indeed, absolutely impossible.” But it pleased 
 God at length to give him deliverance, by enabling him to 
 exercise faith, and to remember that, as a sinner saved, 
 he was bound to evince the most fervent gratitude to 
 God. 
 
 The great Pagoda of Juggernaut, now becoming dis- 
 tinctly visible, was a sight sufficient to rouse Mr. Martyn 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 191 
 
 from almost any depths of depression, either of body or 
 mind. Contemplating that horrid altar of impurity and 
 blood, his soul was excited to sentiments of the strongest 
 commiseration for the children of wretched India, ‘‘who 
 had erected such a monument of her shame on the coast ; 
 and whose heathenism stared the stranger in the face.’’ 
 
 Leaving Juggernaut behind, a tremendous hurricane, 
 such as is often experienced in those latitudes, descended 
 on the fleet ; and in an instant every sail of the Union was 
 rent in pieces. All was uproar in the ship ; nor was there 
 any resource but to run before the gale ; which, had they 
 been further on their way, must have driven them upon 
 some sand-banks at the mouth of the Hoogley.^' Inces- 
 sant lightning rendered the scene still more dreadful. 
 
 O o 
 
 When nature began to shrink at the fear of dissolution, 
 Mr. Martyn was much reconciled, he says, to it, by such 
 thoughts as these. — “ What have I here ? Is it not better 
 to go, and to be with Jesus, and to be free from this body 
 of sin and death ? But for the sake of the poor uncon- 
 verted souls in the ship,” he adds, “ I prayed earnestly for 
 her preservation.” 
 
 To this danger, from which Mr. Martyn was mercifully 
 delivered, another of a yet more formidable nature suc- 
 ceeded, when he had entered the mouth of the Hoogley, 
 and was rejoicing in the happy termination of an eventful 
 voyage. 
 
 On the 14th of May, the Union struck on a sand-bank 
 near the diamond harbor, where her situation was awfully 
 dangerous; for night came on and the wind increased. 
 The vessel was considered by the captain as lost, and all 
 the passengers were in the utmost terror. Mr. Martyn 
 “ retired for prayer, and found his soul in peace nor 
 was the fervent prayer of this righteous man ineffectual. 
 After continuing in extreme peril for two hours, the ship 
 
 * The Hoogley is one of the channels, through which the Ganges 
 discharges its waters into the ocean. E. 
 
192 
 
 MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 very unexpectedly floated into deep water. Thus being 
 yet more deeply convinced that in God and in his hand 
 were all his ways, and having his heart humbled in thank- 
 fulness to him as the author of all his mercies, Mr. 
 Martyn arrived at Calcutta; from whence he thus dis- 
 closed the sentiments of his heart to a beloved Christian 
 friend : — 
 
 My long and wearisome voyage is concluded, and I 
 am at last arrived in the country in which I am to spend 
 my days in the work of the Lord. Scarcely can I believe 
 myself to be so happy as to be actually in India ; yet this 
 hath God wrought. Through changing climates, and 
 tempestuous seas, he has brought on his feeble worm to 
 the field of action ; and will, I trust, speedily equip me 
 for my work. I am now very far from you all, and, as 
 often as I look around and view the Indian scenery, I 
 sigh to think of the distance that separates us. Time, 
 indeed, and reflection, have, under God, contributed to 
 make the separation less painful ; yet still my thoughts 
 recur with unceasing fondness to former friendships, and 
 make the duty of intercession for you a happy privilege. 
 Day and night I do not cease to pray for you, and I am 
 willing to hope that you also remember me daily at the 
 throne of grace. Let us not, by any means, forget one 
 another ; nor lose sight of the day of our next meeting. 
 We have little to do with the business of this world. 
 Place and time have not that importance in our views 
 that they have in those of others ; and therefore neither 
 changes of situation nor lapse of years should weaken our 
 Christian attachment. I see it to be my business to fulfil 
 as a hireling my day; and then to leave the world. 
 Amen. We shall meet in happier regions. I believe 
 that those connections, and comforts, and friendships, 
 which I have heretofore so desired, though they are the 
 sweetest earthly blessings, are earthly still/* 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 MR. MARTYN’s arrival AT CALCUTTA RESIDENCE AT 
 
 ALDEEN PREACHES AT CALCUTTA IS APPOINTED TO 
 
 DINAPORE LEAVES CALCUTTA JOURNAL OF HIS VOY- 
 
 AGE UP THE HOOGLEY AND GANGES. 
 
 For many years supplications had incessantly ascended 
 up to heaven from Christians in India, for the spiritual 
 prosperity of that benighted land ; and for a considerable 
 time a stated weekly meeting had been held at Calcutta, 
 on the recommendation of Dr. Buchanan and Mr. Brown,* 
 for the express purpose of beseeching the Lord to send 
 forth laborers into those fields which were white unto the 
 harvest. What a manifest answer to these petitions was 
 the appearance of Mr. Martyn amongst those who had 
 been thus offering up their prayers ! One of these,f a 
 name dear to all who admire zeal, integrity, liberality, and 
 an entire consecration of the brightest talents to the cause 
 of Christian philanthropy, was now about to commence 
 his researches into the state of religion amongst the Syrian 
 Christians : and the ship which conveyed him on that 
 interesting errand, left the mouth of the Hoogley as the 
 Union entered it. To him, doubtless, the sight of Mr. 
 Martyn would have seemed an answer to prayer, demand- 
 ing the warmest thanksgiving : the voice of a Christian 
 missionary would have been sweeter in his ears than even 
 
 See Appendix E. 
 
 17 
 
 t Dr. Buchanan. 
 
194 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 those sounds which he afterwards heard in Travancore, 
 from the bells amongst the hills, and which reminded him 
 of another country. 
 
 At Aldeen, near Calcutta, the residence of the Rev. 
 David Brown, Mr. Martyn was received and welcomed 
 with all that cordiality of affection which characterizes the 
 genuine servants of the Lord Jesus. Finding in him a 
 spirit eminently congenial with his own, he gladly became 
 one of his dear family, as he expresses it, and his days 
 passed delightfully. In order that he might enjoy as much 
 retirement as he deemed necessary, Mr. Brown prepared 
 a pagoda for his habitation ; which was situate on the 
 edge of the river, at no great distance from the house. 
 There the vaulted roof was so changed from its original 
 destination, as often to reecho the voice of prayer and the 
 songs of praise : and Mr. Martyn triumphed and rejoiced 
 
 that the place where once devils were worshipped, was 
 now become a Christian oratory.” 
 
 Soon after his being fixed at Aldeen, his affectionate 
 friends there became seriously alarmed at an attack of 
 fever which he experienced. His illness was of some con- 
 tinuance, and in it he was assaulted by a temptation more 
 dangerous than uncommon, — a temptation to look to him- 
 self for some qualification with which to approach the 
 Saviour, — for something to warrant his confidence in him, 
 and hope of acceptance from him. Searching for evi- 
 dences for the purpose of ascertaining ivlietlier we are in 
 Christy widely differs from searching for them to warrant 
 a boldness of access to Christ : for this we require no evi- 
 dence ; but need only the passport of faith, and the plea 
 of our own wretchedness : and as it is the design of our 
 great adversary (such is his subtlety) to lead us to deny 
 the evidences of faith altogether, — so it is his purpose to 
 betray us into a legal and mistaken use of them. We 
 find Mr. Martyn at this time expressing himself thus : I 
 
 could derive no comfort from reflecting on my past life. 
 Indeed, exactly in proportion as I looked for evidences of 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 195 
 
 grace, I lost that brokenness of spirit which I wished to 
 retain, and could not lie with simplicity at the foot of the 
 cross. I really thought that I was departing this life. I 
 began to pray as on the verge of eternity : and the Lord 
 was pleased to break my hard heart. I lay, in tears, in- 
 terceding for the unfortunate natives of this country ; 
 thinking with myself that the most despicable soodar of 
 India was of as much value in the sight of God as the king 
 of Great Britain.” 
 
 So pleasantly and sv/eetly, after his recovery, did the 
 current of Mr. Martyn’s days pass on at Aldeen and Cal- 
 cutta, that he began to fear lest the agreeable society he 
 met with there should induce a softness of mind, and an 
 indisposition to solitude and bold exertion. Of this society 
 he remarks, I felt sometimes melancholy at the thought 
 that I should soon be deprived of it. But alas ! why do I 
 regret it? Sweet is human friendship, — sweet is the 
 communion of saints, — but sweeter far is fellowship with 
 ^God pn earthy and the enjoyment of the society of his 
 saints in heaven,^ 
 
 The city of Calcutta was a place so evidently suited to 
 that order of talent with which Mr. Martyn was endowed, 
 that it is not to be wondered that the solicitations of his 
 Christian friends there should pour in upon him at this 
 time, with the view of persuading him to continue amongst 
 them, in a sphere v/hich they considered so well adapted 
 for the exercise of his ministry. But it was truly said of 
 him by one* now before the throne with him in the world 
 of light, — that ‘‘ he had a spirit to follow the steps of Brai- 
 nerd and Swartz and to be prevented from going to 
 the heathen,” he himself remarked on this occasion, 
 ‘‘ would almost have broken his heart.” 
 
 In the vicinity of Aldeen, indeed, he witnessed, with 
 horror, the cruel rites and debasing idolatries of heathen- 
 ism. The blaze of a funeral pile caused him one day to 
 
 Dr. Buchanan, — Christian Researches. 
 
196 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 hasten to endeavor, if possible, to rescue an unfortunate 
 female, who was consumed, however, before he could 
 reach the spot. In a dark wood at no great distance from 
 Serampore, he heard the sound of the cymbals and drums, 
 summoning the poor natives to the worship of devils; — 
 sounds which pierced his heart. And before a black 
 image, placed in a pagoda, with lights burning around it, 
 he beheld his fellow creatures prostrating themselves, with 
 their foreheads to the earth ; — a sight which he contem- 
 plated with an overwhelming compassion, whilst ^^he 
 shivered,” he says, as if standing as it were in the 
 neighborhood of hell.” 
 
 Scenes so affecting as these might have pleaded with 
 him effectually in favor of the proposition of his friends, 
 had he not remembered, that all these things happened at 
 no great distance from Aldeen, Serampore, and Calcutta, — 
 from whence many a holy man of God had already come 
 forth, and would again come forth, crying out to the 
 wretched idolaters, Why do ye such things” — “ behold 
 the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world,” 
 
 Detained, as Mr. Martyn unavoidably was, at this time, 
 from what he considered his especial employment, he 
 applied himself more ardently than ever to the acquisition 
 of Hindoostanee, availing himself of the assistance of a 
 Gashmirian Brahmin, whom he wearied with his unceasing 
 assiduity. He was also instant in preaching the Gospel to 
 his countrymen, both in the Mission Church, and in the 
 New Church, in Calcutta. 
 
 His first discourse in the New Church, on 1 Cor, i. 23; 
 24, occasioned a great sensation ; of a kind very different, 
 indeed, from that which he heartily desired, but still one 
 which, from the treatment to which he had been accustomed 
 on board the ship, he was not unprepared to expect. 
 
 The plain exhibition of the doctrines of the Gospel was 
 exceedingly offensive to many of his hearers. Nor did 
 the ferment thus excited subside quickly, as it often does, 
 into pity or contempt. He had the pain, very shortly after. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 197 
 
 of being personally attacked from the pulpit by some of his 
 brethren, whose zeal hurried them into the violation not 
 only of an express canon of the Church, but of the yet 
 higher law of Christian charity ; and led them to make an 
 intemperate attack upon him, and upon many of the truths 
 of the Gospel. Even when he was himself present in 
 
 church, Mr. spoke with sufficient plainness of him 
 
 and of his doctrines, calling them inconsistent, extravagant, 
 and absurd ; drawing a vast variety of false inferences from 
 them, and thence arguing against them; declaring, for 
 instance, that to affirm repentance to be the gift of God, 
 and to teach that nature is wholly corrupt, was to drive 
 men to despair : — and that to suppose the righteousness of 
 Christ sufficient to justify, is to make it unnecessary to 
 have any of our own. Though compelled to listen to such 
 downright heresies ; — to hear himself described as knowing 
 neither what he said, nor whereof he affirmed, — and as 
 aiming only to gratify self-sufficiency, pride, and uncharita- 
 bleness, — “ I rejoiced,” said this meek and holy man, to 
 receive the sacrament of the Lord’s supper afterwards : — 
 as the solemnities of that blessed ordinance sweetly tended 
 to soothe any asperity of mind ; and I think that I admin- 
 istered the cup to and , with sincere good will.” 
 
 When exposed to a similar invective from another preacher, 
 who commenced a public opposition to him, by denouncing 
 his last sermon, in particular, as a rhapsody, — as unin- 
 telligible jargon, — as an enigma ; — declaring that the 
 Epistles of St. Paul were addressed to heathens alone, and 
 that if the Apostle could look down from heaven, and see 
 what use was made of his words to distress and agitate 
 the minds of men, he would grieve at such perversions ; 
 and who, in addition to this, pointedly addressed Mr. 
 Martyn, and charged him with the guilt of distressing and 
 destroying those for whom Christ died, — with takings away 
 their only hope, and driving them to mopishness, melan- 
 choly, and despair, — and finally, with depriving them of 
 the only consolation they could have on a death-bed ; — he 
 17 * 
 
198 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 again observes, we received the sacrament of the Lord^a 
 supper, and I was glad of the blessed ordinance, as it 
 tended much to compose my mind, and to soften it in 
 compassion and love towards all mankind.” 
 
 But if Mr. Martyn had abundant reason to be grieved 
 and pained at the conduct of some of his brethren at Cal- 
 cutta, he had no small satisfaction in the wise and tempe- 
 rate line pursued by another chaplain, in this season of 
 doubtful and distressing disputation ; who, perceiving that 
 the doctrines of the church of England were becoming a 
 matter of warm and general controversy, adopted the ad- 
 mirable plan of simply reading the Homilies to the congre- 
 gation ; — thus leaving the Church to speak authoritatively 
 for herself ; and affording to all classes an opportunity of 
 deciding which of the parties was most in accordance with 
 her incomparable formularies, — Mr. Martyn or his opposers. 
 
 Mr. ,” he says, to the great satisfaction of all 
 
 serious people, after stating the diversity of opinion which 
 had lately prevailed in the pulpit, began to read a Homily 
 by way of sermon and again, at the New Church, I 
 
 read, and Mr. preached the second and third parts of 
 
 the ‘ Homily on Salvation.’ The clear exhibition of divine 
 truth which was thus presented, was very rejoicing to our 
 hearts.” 
 
 Attached as Mr. Martyn was to the Church of England, 
 he was far from either the apathy or the jealousy in which 
 too many are apt to indulge, respecting the interests of 
 other Christian communities. Very decidedly did he dif- 
 fer in some important points from the Baptists. But it 
 was with the sincerest grief that he heard, during his 
 abode at Aldeen, of an order issued by the government 
 (though it proved afterwards that he was misinformed) to 
 prevent their preaching and distributing tracts. So per- 
 plexed and excited was he by the intelligence, that it even 
 deprived him of sleep; and he spoke afterwards with so 
 much vehemence against the measures of government, 
 as, upon reflection, to afford him matter of self-condemna- 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 199 
 
 tion. I know not,” he said, what manner of spirit I 
 am of; I fancy it is all zeal for God ; but what a false- 
 hood is this ? I am severe against a governor, not making 
 allowances for what he knows. Oh ! does it become me 
 to be judging others ? Did Jesus canvass the proceedings 
 of government in the spirit of one of this world ? I pray 
 to be preserved from ever falling into this snare again. 
 May I, with poverty of spirit, go on my way ; and never 
 again trouble myself with what does not belong to me ! 
 I trust I shall be able to distinguish between zeal and 
 self-will. Let me never fancy I have zeal, till my heart 
 overflows with love to every man living.” 
 
 On the 13th of September, 1806, Mr. Martyn received 
 his appointment to Dinapore; by which time, notwith- 
 standing all his vigilance, the comforts of the life he had 
 been leading had so far won upon him, that he suffered 
 much at the thoughts of his removal. ‘‘It is an awful 
 and an arduous thing,” said he, “ to root out every affec- 
 tion for earthly things, so as to live for another world. I 
 was astonished at the attachment I felt for earthly things. 
 The happiness of invisible and eternal things seemed 
 something like a dream ; the faint remains of what I had 
 formerly known. In great melancholy, I determined be- 
 fore God, to leave this wretched world once more; but 
 my soul was greatly cast down. The affections were 
 entwined around something or other here ; so that it ap- 
 peared like death to be torn from it.” So far, however, 
 was he from yielding to selfishness or sloth, that, as the 
 day of his departure drew near, he stirred himself up to 
 the consideration of the greatness of his calling, and pant- 
 ed to begin his work. 
 
 At the beginning of October, Mr. Martyn prepared to 
 leave that Christian family, in the bosom of which he 
 had received such unremitted kindness; but not before 
 he had welcomed the joyful arrival of two fellow-laborers 
 from England ; who, following his bright track, and imi- 
 tating his self-denying example, had turned their backs 
 
200 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 on the beloved land of their nativity. This was an in- 
 expressible joy to his heart. I went down’’ (he says in 
 his journal) ‘‘to Calcutta, where we had the happiness 
 of meeting our dear brethren. I rode out with them in 
 the evening, and passed most of the time in conversing 
 about European friends.” And when, afterwards, he 
 heard one of them (Mr. Corrie*) preach, he thus exr 
 presses himself: “God be praised for another v/itness to 
 his truth. O may abundant grace and gifts rest on my 
 beloved brother, that the works of God may show them- 
 selves forth in him.” By these various circumstances, 
 together with the letters which at the same time he re- 
 ceived from those to whom he was so attached in England, 
 his affections of love and joy were excited to such a de- 
 gree, as to prove almost too much for his frame. 
 
 A few days before he left Aldeen, several of Mr. Mar- 
 tyn’s friends came together to his pagoda, in order that 
 they might unite with him in imploring a blessing on his 
 intended labors. Such a meeting could not fail of being 
 highly interesting, and it was not the less so from a recol- 
 lection of the place in which they were assembled — a 
 Christian congregation, in a building which once had been 
 an idol temple, seemed to supply a consolatory pledge, as 
 well as a significant emblem, of what all earnestly prayed 
 for, and confidently anticipated, for poor idolatrous India. 
 “ My soul,” said Mr. Martyn, “never yet had such divine 
 enjoyment. I felt a desire to break from the body, 
 and join the high praises of the saints above. May I go 
 ‘ in the strength of this, many days.’ — Amen. ‘ My soul 
 doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God 
 my Saviour.’ How sweet to walk with Jesus, — to love 
 
 * The Rev. Daniel Corrie, an Archdeacon of the English Church. 
 An efficient coadjutor in every plan for the improvement of British 
 India. Very frequent and honorable mention is made of him in the 
 works of Bishop Heber. He has been recently engaged in some 
 preparatory measures for the establishment of a College at Calcutta, 
 to be open indiscriminately to students of all denominations. E. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 201 
 
 him, — and to die for him ! ^ Surely goodness and mercy 
 
 shall follow me all the days of my life : and I wih dwell 
 in the house of the Lord forever.' ” And again, the next 
 day, he says, ‘‘ The blessed God has again visited my soul 
 in his power, and all that was within me blessed his holy 
 name. I found my heaven begun on earth. No work so 
 sweet as that of praying and living wholly to the service 
 of God.’’ 
 
 On the 15th of October, after taking leave of the Church 
 at Calcutta in a farewell discourse, and of the family at 
 Aldeen in an exposition at morning worship, Mr. Martyn 
 entered his budgerow,* which was to convey him to Dina- 
 pore ;f and sailed up the Ganges, accompanied by his 
 brethren, Mr. Brown, Mr. Corrie, and Mr. Parsons. 
 Mr. Marshman,f seeing them pass by the Mission House, 
 could not resist joining the party ; and after going a little 
 way, left them with prayer. At night, Mr. Martyn prayed 
 with his brethren in the vessel; and the next day they 
 devoted the whole morning to religions exercises. How 
 sweet is prayer,” said he, to my soul at this time ! I 
 seem as if I could never be tired, not only of spiritual joys, 
 but of spiritual employments, since these are now the 
 same.” 
 
 The day after, the weather becoming tempestuous, his 
 brethren sorrowfully and reluctantly left him to prosecute 
 his voyage alone. Before they parted, however, they 
 spent the whole morning (to use his own words) in a 
 divine ordinance, in which each of them read a portion of 
 Scripture, and all of them sang and prayed. Mr. 
 
 * A budgerow is “ a travelling boat constructed" like a pleasure 
 barge. Some have cabins fourteen feet wide, and proportionably 
 long, and draw from four to five feet of water. From seventeen to 
 twenty miles a day is the greatest distance a large budgerow can be 
 towed against the stre^im during the fair season.” — Rennel. 
 
 t No missionary station is now maintained at this place. E. 
 
 t One of the Baptist Missionaries. 
 
202 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Brown’s passage, chosen from the 1st of Joshua, was very 
 suitable,” said Mr. Martyn, ‘ Have I not sent thee V — 
 
 Let this be an answer to my fears, O my Lord, and an 
 assurance that I am in thy work; and that therefore I 
 shall not go forth at my own charges, or fight any enemies 
 but thine. It was a very affecting season to me : but in 
 prayer I was far from a state of seriousness and affection.” 
 I was left alone,” he writes, October 17, in his jour- 
 nal, for the first time with none but natives. The 
 wind and rain became so violent,* that the men let the 
 budgerow stay upon shore the whole day ; and in conse- 
 quence of beating on the ground, it leaked so much that 
 the men were obliged to be in my cabin to bale her. Read 
 with the Moonshee one of the tracts which he had himself 
 translated from the Bengalee into verse. Perceiving him 
 to be alarmed at the violence of the waves beating against 
 the boat, I began to talk to him about religion. He began 
 by saying, ‘ May God be our protector,’ — this was a favor- 
 able beginning. The hurricane abated before midnight^ 
 through mercy. 
 
 Oct. 18. — ‘‘ Reading hard all day wrote out a list of 
 the errata in one of the tracts, and read Sanscrit grammar. 
 In the evening, walked along the bank with my gun, and 
 fired at some wild fowl, which the servants ate. At night, 
 read part of a Nagree tract with the Moonshee. Learnt 
 some Arabic roots. Felt an occasional depression of 
 spirits ; but prayer instantly removed it ; so that, in general, 
 I was near to God, and happy.” 
 
 Oct. 19. — Sunday. “ The first solitary Sabbath spent 
 amongst the heathen : but my soul not forsaken of God. 
 The prayers of my dear friends were instant for me this 
 
 * The North- westers are the most formidable enemies that are 
 to he met with in this inland navigation, — whole fleets of trading 
 boats have been sunk by them almost instantaneously. But it is in 
 the great rivers alone, when increased in width, that they are the 
 most formidable.” — Rennel. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 203 
 
 day, I well perceive : and a great part of my prayer was 
 occupied in delightful intercession for them. The ac- 
 count of the fall of man, in the third chapter of Genesis, 
 and of his restoration by Christ, was unspeakably affecting 
 to my soul. Indeed, every thing I read seemed to be car- 
 ried home to my soul with ineffable sweetness and power 
 by the Spirit ; and all that was within me blessed his holy 
 name. In the afternoon, sent to the Moonshee, that he 
 might hear the Gospel read, or read it himself. Began 
 St. Mark ; — but our conversation, turning from Christianity 
 to Mohammedanism, became deadening to my spirit. Our 
 course to-day was along the eastern bank ; which seems 
 to have been lately the bed of the river, and is bare of 
 trees for a considerable distance from the water. The 
 western bank is covered with wood. In my evening walk, 
 saw three skeletons.” 
 
 Oct. 20. — Employed all the day in translating the first 
 chapter of the Acts into Hindoostanee. I did it with 
 some care ; and wrote it all out in the Persian character ; 
 yet still I am surprised I do so little. In my morning 
 walk, shot a bird with a beautiful plumage, called a Cule- 
 an; and, in the evening, a large bird, called a Minca. — 
 Putting my gun into the boat, I walked into the village 
 where the boat stopped for the night ; and found the wor- 
 shippers of Cali by the sound of their drums and cymbals. 
 I did not think of speaking to them, on account of their 
 being Bengalees. But, being invited by the Brahmins to 
 walk in, I entered within the railing, and asked a few 
 questions about the idol. The Brahmin, who spoke bad 
 Hindoostanee, disputed with great heat, and his tongue 
 ran faster than I could follow ; and the people, who were 
 about one hundred, shouted applause. But I continued 
 to ask my questions, without making any remarks upon 
 the answers. I asked, among other things, whether what 
 I had heard of Vishnu and Brahma was true ; which he 
 confessed. I forebore to press him with the consequences, 
 which he seemed to feel ; and then I told him what was 
 
204 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 my belief. — The man grew quite mild, and said it was 
 chula hat (good words) ; and asked me seriously, at last, 
 what I thought — ‘ was idol-worship true or false V I felt 
 it a matter of thankfulness that I could make known the 
 truth of God, though but a stammerer ; and that I had 
 declared it in the presence of the devil. And this also I 
 learnt, that the power of gentleness is irresistible. I never 
 was more astonished than at the change in deportment 
 of this hot-headed Brahmin. Read the Sanscrit grammar 
 till bed-time.”^ 
 
 Oct. 21. — Morning at Sanscrit, without gaining any 
 ground. Afternoon, with my Moonshee, correcting Acts 
 i. ; and felt a little discouraged at finding I still wrote so 
 incorrectly; though much pleased at this great apparent 
 desire of having it perfectly accurate. Though not joyful 
 in my spirit, as when my friends left me, I feel my God to 
 be an all-satisfying portion ; and find no want of friends. 
 Read Genesis and Luke ; — at night in the Septuagint and 
 Hindoostanee. Came-to at a desert place on the western 
 bank.’^ 
 
 Oct. 22. — Shot a bird somewhat larger than a wood- 
 cock, but like it in taste ; and a snipe. — The Musalchee, 
 who attended me, seeing an old man who had caught some 
 fish, made a requisition of them. The old man understood 
 the Musalchee’s meaning better than I did ; for he began 
 to entreat me, saying, ‘ he was a poor man,’ and was 
 quite overjoyed to find that I had not given an order to 
 plunder him, but meant to pay. I then recollected what 
 Mr. Brown told me, of the custom the servants have of 
 making requisitions from the natives in the name of their 
 English masters. Alas ! poor natives, — how accustomed 
 they are to injustice ! They cannot believe their English 
 masters to be better than their Mohammedan ones.” 
 
 * The Sanscrit is the common source of the languages of the 
 Hindoos. The principal derivations from it are the Cashmiriaii, 
 Mahratta, Telinga, Tamul, and Hindoostanee. E. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 205 
 
 '' A Brahmin of my own age was performing his devo- 
 tions to Gunga early this morning, when I was going to 
 prayer. My soul was struck with the sovereignty of God, 
 who, out of pure grace, had made such a difference in all 
 the external circumstances of our lives. O let not that 
 man’s earnestness rise up in judgment against me at the 
 last day. — In the afternoon they were performing the 
 ceremony of throwing the effigies of Cali, collected from 
 several villages, into the river. In addition to the usual 
 music, there were trumpets. The objects of worship, 
 which were figures in relief on the sector of a circle of 
 about one hundred and twenty degrees, most gorgeously 
 bedecked with tinsel, were kept under a little awning in 
 their respective boats. As the budgerow passed through 
 the boats, they turned so as to present the front of their 
 goddess to me ; and, at the same time, blew a blast with 
 their trumpet, evidently intending to gratify me with a 
 sight of what appeared to them so fine. Had their em- 
 ployment been less impious, I should have returned the 
 compliment by looking ; but I turned away. Yet I felt no 
 tenderness of grief ; nor in the morning did I feel anything 
 like due thankfulness for God’s electing mercy, in making 
 me thus to differ from the Brahmins. I have daily and 
 hourly proofs of my corruption : for when does jny heart 
 come up to what my half-enlightened understanding ap- 
 proves? Yet I intend, through grace, to continue praying 
 to the end for their poor precious souls, and that the king- 
 dom of God may be set up here.” 
 
 ‘‘ Came-to on the eastern bank, below a village called 
 Ahgadeep. Wherever I walked, the women fled at the 
 sight of me. Some men were sitting under the shed 
 dedicated to their goddess ; and a lamp was burning in 
 her place. A conversation soon began ; but there was no 
 one who could speak Hindoostanee ; so all I could say 
 was by the medium of my Mussulman Musalchee. They 
 said that they only did as others did; and that, if they 
 were wrong, then all Bengal was wrong. I felt love for 
 18 
 
206 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 their souls, and longed for utterance to declare unto those 
 poor simple people the holy Gospel. I think that when 
 my mouth is opened, I shall preach to them day and night. 
 I feel that they are my brethren in the flesh ; — precisely 
 on' a level with myself’’ 
 
 In the morning upon Sanscrit, though still quite in the 
 dark. Afternoon with the Moonshee.” 
 
 Oct. 23. — The tow-rope broke, and w’^e were hurried 
 down the stream with great rapidity ; the stream running 
 seven miles an hour. We ran foul of several large boats ; 
 and I expected we should go to pieces. The people of the 
 other boats would not aflbrd the least help ; so the Mangee 
 and his assistant jumped overboard with a rope, and suc- 
 ceeded in getting ashore, but were unable to stop her till 
 she ran foul of another, which was made fast. Came-to 
 at night on the eastern bank. A delightful season to me, 
 on account of the serenity of my mind, and of my happy 
 and solemn reflections on the grace of my God towards 
 his poor creature.” 
 
 I thought at night more than usual of my dear L . 
 
 But the more I exaggerate these ideal joys, the more do I 
 treasure up subjects of wo. O what vanity has God written 
 upon all things under the sun !” — As I returned late, I 
 passed between the river and a party of jackals; they 
 kept at a little distance till we were passed.” 
 
 October 25. — Passed the morning in writing out of the 
 rules of Sundhi. Had a very solemn season of prayer, by 
 the favor of God, over some of the chapters of Genesis ; 
 but especially at the conclusion of the 119th Psalm. O 
 that these holy resolutions and pious breathings were en- 
 tirely my own! Adored be the never-failing mercy of 
 God 1 He has made my happiness to depend, not on the 
 uncertain connections of this life, but upon his own most 
 blessed self, — a portion that never faileth. — Came-to on 
 the eastern bank. The opposite side was very romantic ; 
 — adorned with a stately range of very high forest trees, 
 whose deep, dark shade seemed impenetrable to the light. — 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 207 
 
 In my evening walk enjoyed great solemnity of feeling, in 
 the view of the world as a mere wilderness, through which 
 the children of God are passing to a better country. It was 
 a comforting and a solemn thought, and was unspeakably 
 interesting to me at the time, — that God knew whereabouts 
 his people were in the wilderness, and was supplying them 
 with just what they wanted.” 
 
 “ On my return towards the boat, I saw a wild-boar, of 
 a very large size, galloping parallel to the river. I had not 
 a gun with me, or I might have killed him, as he was 
 within reach of a fusee ball. — In my budgerow found great 
 delight in Hart’s Hymns at night.” 
 
 October 26. — Sunday. Passed this Lord’s day with 
 
 great comfort, and much solemnity of soul. Glory to God 
 for his grace ! Reading the Scriptures and prayer took 
 up the first part of the day. Almost every chapter I read 
 was blest to my soul, — particularly the last chapter of 
 Isaiah : ^ It shall come, that I will gather all nations and 
 tongues; and they shall come, and see my glory,’ &c. 
 Rejoice, ndy soul, in the sure promises of Jehovah. How 
 happy am I, when, in preparing for the work of declaring 
 his glory among the Gentiles, I think, that many of the 
 Lord’s saints have been this day remembering their un- 
 worthy friend. I felt as if I could never be tired with 
 prayer. In the afternoon, read one of Gibert’s French 
 Sermons, — Bates on Death, — and some of the Nagree 
 Gospels. In the evening, we came-to on the eastern bank. 
 I walked into a neighboring village, with some tracts. The 
 children ran away in great terror ; and though there were 
 some men here and there, I found no opportunity or en- 
 couragement to try if there were any that could speak 
 Hindoostanee : however, I felt vexed with myself for not 
 taking more pains to do them good. Alas ! while Satan is 
 destroying their souls, does it become the servants of God 
 to be lukewarm?— At night, read the third and fourth 
 chapters of the Acts ; and lost much time and spirituality 
 by indulging ideas of schemes about the gospel, which 
 
208 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 had more of romance and pride in them than of wisdom 
 and humiliation.” 
 
 Oct. 27. — Arrived at Berhampore. In the evening, 
 walked out to see the cantonments at the hospital, in which 
 there were one hundred and fifty European soldiers sick. 
 I was talking to a man, said to be dying, when a surgeon 
 entered. I went up, and made some apology for entering 
 the hospital. It was my old school-fellow and townsman, 
 
 — . The remainder of the evening he spent with 
 
 me in my budgerow. He pressed me much to stay longer 
 with him, which I refused; but afterwards, on reflection, 
 I thought it my duty to stay a little longer ; thinking I 
 might have an opportunity of preaching to the soldiers.” 
 
 Oct. 28. — Rose very early, and was at the hospital at 
 day-light. Waited there a long time, wandering up and 
 down the wards, in hopes of inducing the men to get up 
 and assemble ; but it was in vain. I left three books with 
 them ; and went away amidst the sneers and titters of the 
 common soldiers. Certainly it is one of the greatest crosses 
 I am called to bear, to take pains to make people hear 
 me. It is such a struggle between a sense of propriety 
 and modesty, on the one hand ; and a sense of duty, on 
 the other ; that I find nothing equal to it. I could force 
 my way anywhere, in order to introduce a brother minis- 
 ter : but for myself, I act with hesitation and pain. Mr. 
 
 promised to ask the head surgeon’s permission for 
 
 me to preach, and appointed the hour at which I should 
 come. I went there; but, after waiting two hours, was 
 told that the surgeon was gone without being spoken to, — 
 and many other excuses were made. So, as it was now 
 the heat of the day, I saw it was of no use to make any 
 more attempts; and therefore I went on my way. At 
 night, from mere thoughtlessness, went on shore without 
 tracts, and lost a better opportunity than I have yet had of 
 distributing them among the people. My soul was dread- 
 fully wounded at the recollection of it ; and, O, may the 
 conviction of my wickedness rest upon my soul all my 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 209 
 
 days ! How many souls will rise up in judgment against 
 me at the last day, God only knows. The Lord forgive 
 my guilty soul, — deliver me from blood-guiltiness, — and 
 make me to remember for what purpose I came hither I” 
 
 Oct. 29. — Passed Cossim Buzar and Moorshedabad,. 
 in the middle of the day ; and so my resolutions of repair- 
 ing my past negligence were defeated, for we stopped at 
 night where there was not a house. I talked with a party 
 of boatmen; and begged them to take a tract; but I 
 could not prevail upon them. Though they were Rajemahl 
 people, I could scarcely understand them, or they me, at 
 all. I am grieved, and disappointed, and ashamed, at 
 my extraordinary backwardness in the language; but I 
 hope not to be discouraged. Employed the whole day in 
 translating Acts, chap. ii. and correcting it with my 
 Moonshee.’’ 
 
 Oct. 30. — Employed the whole day, as yesterday, 
 about the same chapter. Read also the Ramayuna, and 
 Sale’s Introduction to the Koran. My views enlarge 
 rapidly respecting the state of things among the Hindoos 
 and Mohammedans. — My soul was in a most awful state of 
 impression ; Satan was at work, and my soul found safety 
 only in holding by God as a child clings to the neck of its 
 mother. Thanks be to God that I have the witness in 
 myself. ‘ The anointing, which ye have received of him, 
 abideth in you, and ye need not that any man teach you, 
 but as the same anointing teacheth you of all things,’ 6lc. 
 O how refreshing and supporting to my soul was the holi- 
 ness of the word of God ; — sweeter than the sweetest 
 promise, at this time, was the constant and manifest ten- 
 dency of the word, to lead men to holiness and the deepest 
 seriousness. What a contrast is it to the mock majesty 
 of the Koran, and the trifling indecent stuff of the Rama- 
 yuna. My whole soul seems, at present, engrossed in the 
 work of being the messenger of truth; and, at every sea- 
 son of prayer, I found a peculiar tenderness in: praying for; 
 those unenlightened people.!’ 
 
210 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Oct. 31. — ‘‘Passed a very populous village called Jun- 
 gipore.’’ 
 
 “ Stopped at night again in a desert place. — Employed 
 as yesterday. My Moonshee said, ‘ How can you prove 
 this book (putting his hand on the Gospel), to be the 
 word of God V I took him to walk with me on the shore, 
 that we might discuss the matter : and the result of our 
 conversation was, that I discovered that the Mussulmen 
 allow the Gospel to be, in general, the command of God, 
 though the words of it are not His as the words of the 
 Koran are ; and contend that the actual words of God 
 given to Jesus were burnt by the Jews : — that they also 
 admit the New Testament to have been in force till the 
 coming of Mohammed. When I quoted some passages 
 which proved the Christian dispensation to be the final 
 one, he allowed it to be inconsistent with the divinity of 
 the Koran, but said, ‘ then those words of the Gospel must 
 be false.’ The man argued and asked his questions 
 seemingly in earnest; and another new impression was 
 left upon my mind ; namely, that these men are not fools, 
 and that all ingenuity and clearness of reasoning are not 
 confined to England and Europe. I seem to feel that 
 these descendants of Ham are as dear to^God as the 
 haughty sons of Japheth: I feel, too, more at home with 
 the Scriptures than ever : every thing I see gives light to, 
 and receives it from, the Scriptures. I seem transported 
 back to the ancient times of the Israelites and the 
 Apostles.’^ 
 
 “ My spirit felt composed, after the dispute, by simply 
 looking to God as one who had engaged to support his 
 own cause : and I saw it to be my part to pursue my way 
 through the wilderness of this world, looking only to that 
 redemption which daily draweth nigh. The same thoughts 
 continued through the evening. I reflected, while look- 
 ing at the stream gliding by, the smooth current of which 
 showed its motion only by the moon shining upon it, — 
 that all are alike carried down the stream of time, — that 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 211 
 
 in a few years there will be another generation of Hin- 
 doos, Mussulmen, and English in this country : and we 
 are now but just speaking to each other as we are passing 
 along. How should this consideration quell the tumult of 
 anger and impatience, when I cannot convince men. — 
 
 0 how feeble an instrument must a creature so short- 
 sighted be. How necessary is it that God should be con- 
 tinually raising up new instruments ; and how easily can 
 he do it; — ‘ the government is on his shoulders/ Jesus 
 is able to bear the weight of it ; therefore we need not be 
 oppressed with care or fear : but a missionary is apt to 
 fancy himself an Atlas.” 
 
 November 1. — ‘^Employed all day in translating the 
 third chapter of the Acts. Came-to at a place where there 
 was no house. For the first time since arriving in Bengal, 
 saw some hills appearing in the N. W.” 
 
 Nov. 2. — Sunday. My mind was greatly oppressed^ 
 
 that I had done and was doing nothing in the way of dis- 
 tributing tracts. To free my conscience from the charge 
 of unprofitableness and neglect, I wished to go ashore in 
 the middle of the day, wherever I thought I might meet 
 people ; but did not land till we came-to on the bank of 
 the Ganges, which we entered just before sunset. Hills 
 appeared from S. W. to N. W. Some of these were the 
 Rajemahl hills. Walking on shore, I met with a very 
 large party; and entering into conversation, I asked if 
 any of them could read. One young man, who seemed 
 superior in rank to the rest, said he could, and accordingly 
 read some of the only Nagree tract that I had. I then 
 addressed myself boldly to them, and told them of the 
 Gospel. When speaking of the inefficacy of the religious 
 practices of the Hindoos, I mentioned as an example, the 
 repetition of the name of Ram. The young man assented 
 to this ; and said, ‘ Of what use is it?’ As he seemed ta 
 be of a pensive turn, and said this with marks of disgust, 
 
 1 gave him a Nagree Testament; — the first I have given. 
 May God’s blessing go along with it, and cause the eyes. 
 
MEMOIR OF 
 
 212 
 
 of multitudes to be opened ! The men said they should 
 be glad to receive tracts ; so I sent them back a consider- 
 able number by the young man. The idea of printing 
 the parables, in proper order, with a short explanation 
 subjoined to each, for the purpose of distribution, and as 
 school books, suggested itself to me to-night, and delighted 
 me prodigiously.^^ 
 
 Nov. 3. — ‘‘ Crossed the river, in order to get to Chandry. 
 But the wind growing very strong, we were obliged to 
 come-to by a sand-bank. Began my work by writing a few 
 remarks on one of the parables. Finished ‘ Sale’s Pre- 
 liminary Discourse to the Koran,’ and read the Ramayuna. 
 
 Arrived at Chandry, and found and ; walked 
 
 with them over some of the ruins of Gour ; a mosque,, 
 which was still standing entire, was indeed worth seeing. 
 We observed several monkeys, and the print of a tiger’s 
 foot. 
 
 Nov. 4. — After officiating at morning worship, I went 
 up with my friends in a boat to Gomalty ; stopping by the 
 way to visit one of their schools at Mirdypore,* which much 
 delighted me. The little boys, seated cross-legged on the 
 ground all around the room, read some of the New Testa- 
 ment to us. While they displayed their powers of read- 
 ing, their fathers and mothers crowded in great numbers 
 round the doors.” 
 
 Nov. 5. — ‘‘ Received letters from Mr. Brown, Corrie, 
 and Parsons, which much revived me. At evening wor- 
 ship, discoursed from Isaiah Ixiii. 1. My soul continued 
 sweetly engaged with God ; though the praises of the peo- 
 ple of Calcutta were in some degree an interruption of 
 that sweet peace, which is only to be found in being nothing 
 before God.” 
 
 Nov. 7.- — ‘^This morning, after speaking on Acts xx. 
 32, I took my leave ; and with Mr. went in palan- 
 
 * Here are thirteen or fourteen village schools, and in conse- 
 quence a marked progress in civilization. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 213 
 
 quins to Massamgung. Frequently cast down to-day. 
 From want of diligent employment, my thoughts had time 
 to wander in search of some earthly good ; but I found that 
 recollection of what I deserved at the hands of God restored 
 me to greater peace.’’ 
 
 Nov. 8. — ‘‘ Early this morning, reached Rajemahl, and 
 walked to view the remains of its ancient splendor. Gave 
 a tract or two to a Brahmin ; but the Dak Moonshee, a 
 Mussulman, when he received one of the Hindoostanee 
 tracts, and found what it was, was greatly alarmed : and 
 after many awkward apologies, returned it, saying that ‘ a 
 man who had his legs in two different boats, was in danger 
 of sinking between them.’ Went on, much discouraged 
 at the suspicion and rebuffs I met with, — or pained; 
 
 for I feel not the less determined to use every effort to give 
 the people the Gospel. Oh ! that the Lord would pour out 
 upon them a spirit of deep concern for their souls ! In a 
 walk, at Rajemahl, met some of the hill people. Wrote 
 down from their mouth some of the names of things. From 
 their appearance, they seemed connected with the Hotten- 
 tots and Chinese. Passed the day in correcting Acts, 
 chap. iii. with the Moonshee. At night walked with Mr. 
 G. into a village, where we met with some more of the hill 
 people. With one of them, who was a Manghee, or chief 
 of one of the hills, I had some conversation in Hindoos- 
 tanee ; and told him that wicked men after death, go to 
 a place of fire ; and good men, above, to God. The for- 
 mer struck him exceedingly. He asked again, ‘ What 1 
 do they go to a place of great pain and fire V These peo- 
 ple, he said, sacrifice oxen, goats, pigeons, &c. I asked 
 him if he knew what this was for, and then explained the 
 design of sacrifices ; and told him of the great Sacrifice, — 
 but he did not seem to understand me, and appeared pen- 
 sive after hearing that wicked men go to hell. He asked 
 us, with great kindness, to have some of his wild honey ; 
 which was the only thing he had to offer. How surprising 
 is the universal prevalence of sacrifices ! This circumstance 
 
 
214 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 will, perhaps, be made use of for the universal conversion 
 of the nations. How desirable that some missionary should 
 go among these people 1 — No prejudices ; — none of the 
 detestable pride and self-righteousness of their neighbors in 
 the plains.’^ 
 
 Nov. 9. — Passed the Sabbath rather uncomfortably. 
 
 With Mr. , I read several portions of the sacred 
 
 Scriptures, and prayed in the afternoon. We reached 
 Sichigully, a point where the Rajemahl hills jut out into 
 the Ganges. It was a romantic spot. We went ashore, 
 and ascended an eminence to look at the ruins of a 
 mosque. The grave, and room over it, of a Mussulman 
 warrior, killed in battle, were in perfect preservation ; and 
 lamps are still lighted there every night. We saw a few 
 more of the hill people ; one of whom had a bow and 
 arrows ; they were in a hurry to be gone ; and went off, 
 men, women, and children, into their native woods. As 
 I was entering the boat, I happened to touch with my 
 stick the brass pot of one of the Hindoos, in which rice 
 was boiling. So defiled were we in their sight, that the 
 pollution passed from my hand, through the stick and the 
 brass, to the meat. He rose and threw it all away. — 
 We read together at night an excellent sermon on 2 
 Cor. V. 1.’^ 
 
 Nov. 10. — Employed almost all the day in finishing the 
 correction of the third of the Acts, with my Moonshee ; 
 and in writing on some of the parables. Went on the 
 
 north side of the river, and set Mr. G ashore ; walked 
 
 with him to a nulla, expecting to find his boat : but it not 
 being there, we were obliged to walk back by night. 
 Happily we procured a torch in a village near, and were 
 thus preserved from the wild buffaloes, whose recent foot- 
 steps in the path gave us no small alarm. I am constantly 
 preserved through the good providence of the Lord. Em- 
 ployed in lessons of Persian, writing and reading Ra- 
 mayuna.’’ 
 
 Nov, n,— ‘‘This morning, after prayer, Mr, G— — 
 
HENRV MARTYN. 
 
 215 
 
 took his leave. I returned to my work without interrup- 
 tion, and with no small delight. The thought occurred 
 to my mind very strongly, — how much have I to learn of 
 divine things, — if the Lord will be pleased to teach me. 
 I want above all, a meek, serious, resigned, Christ-like 
 spirit. May I have grace to live above every human 
 motive ; simply with God, and to God ; and not swayed, 
 especially in the missionary work, by the opinions of peo- 
 ple not acquainted with the state of things, whose judg- 
 ment may be contrary to my own. But it is a matter of 
 no small difficulty to keep one’s eye from wandering to 
 the church in Calcutta, and in England.” 
 
 Nov. 12. — Employed all the day in translating, in 
 which work the time passes away pleasantly and rapidly. 
 The cold mornings and evenings begin to be very severe. 
 Though the thermometer was only down to 61°, I should 
 have been glad of a fire. It was 81° in the middle of the 
 day. We passed this day out of Bengal into Bahar,” 
 
 Nov, 13. — This morning we passed Colgong. I went 
 ashore, and had a long conversation with two men. As I 
 approached more and more to religion, they were the 
 more astonished ; and when I mentioned the day of judg- 
 ment, they looked at each other in the utmost wonder, 
 with a look that expressed, ‘ how should he know anything 
 about that !’ I felt some satisfaction in finding myself 
 pretty well understood in what I said : but they could not 
 read : and no people came near us, and so I had the grief 
 of leaving this place without supplying it with one ray of 
 light. I was much burdened with a consciousness of 
 blood-guiltiness ; and though I cannot doubt of my pardon 
 by the blood of Christ, how dreadful the reflection, that 
 any should perish who might have been saved by my exer- 
 tions. Looking round this country, and reflecting upon 
 its state, is enough to overwhelm the mind of a minister 
 or missionary. When once my mouth is opened, how 
 shall I ever dare to be silent ! Employed as yesterday. 
 At night met some boatmen on the bank, and a Fakir 
 
216 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 with them ; I talked a good deal, and some things they 
 understood. The Fakir’s words I could scarcely under- 
 stand. As he said he could read, and promised to read a 
 Testament, I gave him one, and several tracts.” 
 
 Nov. 14. — ‘‘ Employed in writing out the parables. 
 Walked through a poor village in the evening, where there 
 were none but women and children, who all ran away 
 when they saw me, except one poor old woman who was 
 ill, and begged. Though she spoke clearly enough, I 
 could scarcely understand one of her words, so that I have 
 quite a new language to learn. When she received half 
 a rupee, she was mute with astonishment for a time, and 
 at last said, Chula (good). The name of the place was 
 Nuckanpour.” 
 
 Nov. 15. — Morning spent on the parables. After- 
 wards with the Moonshee, correcting Acts iv. The boat 
 stopping in the afternoon a short time, I went into a vil- 
 lage ; and finding a genteel looking Hindoo, smoking his 
 hookah, I sat down with him, and a few people gathered 
 round. But the old man, who had been a soldier, talked 
 so incessantly about his campaigns, that I found no good 
 would come if I did not interrupt him, and introduce reli- 
 gion. From having been much with the English, he had 
 more enlarged views than most of the Hindoos, and talked 
 like a Mussulman, — that all were of one cast before God, — 
 that there would be a day of judgment, — and that there 
 was only one God. When I endeavored to make him 
 comprehend the nature of the death of Christ, he merely 
 said, ‘ ah ! that is your shaster,’ — so never was any effort 
 more ineffectual. In the bazaar, I stood and asked if any 
 one could read Nagree. There was only one who could, 
 and he took a tract : about ten others were taken also. I 
 suffered greatly from dejection most of the evening. But 
 the Lord graciously came in the time of need and sup- 
 ported my sinking faith. ^ The Lord reigneth,’ and the 
 people shall ‘ remember and turn to the Lord.’ ” 
 
 Nov. 16. — Sunday. ‘^Generally in a solemn, tender 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 217 
 
 spirit. Spent the first half of the day in reading the 
 Scriptures and prayer. Many a word was brought home 
 with abundance of consolation to my soul. ‘ Though I 
 walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear 
 no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they 
 comfort me.^ When do the sheep find the happiness of 
 having a shepherd so much as when they are walking 
 through a dark shadow? While Jesus lets me see his ‘ rod 
 and staff,’ I am comforted. In the afternoon, read some 
 French sermons. Walked in the evening to a poor village, 
 where I only produced terror. One man, whom I at last 
 met, told me that none could read in the village but a 
 Brahmin ; and he was gone to another town. I left two 
 tracts for him, and told the man to be sure to give them to 
 him when he came back. The man was in no small 
 alarm at this, but asked only where I got them. Dis- 
 tressed at times,-*— I fear that I am not acting faithfully in 
 warning those around me. But the shortest way to peace 
 is, to pray for a broken heart and submissive spirit : by 
 these means, my mind brightened up. At night, was 
 deeply affected about my two dear sisters; and felt the 
 bowels of affection yearn over them : who knows what 
 they have been suffering all this while ? For my poor elder 
 sister, I interceded that she might be saved.” 
 
 Nov. 17. — Early this morning they set me ashore to 
 see a hot spring. A great number of Brahmins and F akirs 
 were there. Not being able to understand them, I gave 
 away tracts. Many followed me to the budgerow, where 
 I gave away more tracts and some Testaments. Arrived 
 at Monghir about noon. In the evening some came to me 
 for books ; and, among them, those who had travelled from 
 the spring, having heard the report that I was giving away 
 copies of the Ramayuna. They would not believe me 
 when I told them that it was not the Ramayuna ; I gave 
 them six or eight more. In the morning tried to translate 
 with the Moonshee one of the Nagree papers.” 
 
 Nov. 18. — A man followed the budgerow along the 
 19 
 
218 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 walls of the fort ; and finding an opportunity, got on board 
 with another, begging for a book, — not believing but that 
 it was the Ramayuna. As I hesitated, having given as 
 many as I could spare for one place, he prostrated himself 
 to the earth, and placed his forehead in the dust ; at which 
 I felt an indescribable horror. I gave them each a Testa- 
 ment. Employed in writing out the parables, and trans- 
 lating. In the evening met with two villagers, and finding 
 they could read, I brought them to the boat, and gave them 
 each a Testament, and some tracts.’’ 
 
 Nov. 19. — Employed in translating the parables, all 
 the day. Finished the first book of the Ramayuna. 
 Came-to at a desert place on the north side j where, in my 
 walk, I met with a man with whom I conversed ; but we 
 could understand each other but very little. To a boy 
 with him, who could read, I gave some tracts. Felt ex- 
 traordinarily wearied with my labor thesft two or three last 
 days; and should have been glad of some refreshing 
 conversation.” 
 
 Nov. 20 — 22. — Employments, — ^the same, throughout 
 these three days : — finished the sixth of Acts. Stopped 
 each night at sand-banks.” 
 
 Nov. 23. — Sunday. Spent the day comfortably and 
 
 solemnly, in reading and prayer ; but my conscience was 
 grievously wounded in the evening, at the recollection of 
 having omitted opportunities of leaving the word of God 
 at a place. Yet will I adore the blessed Spirit, — that he 
 departs not, nor suffers my conscience to be benumbed. 
 What a wretched life shall I lead, if I do not exert myself 
 from morning to night in a place, where, through whole 
 territories, I seem to be the only light.” 
 
 Nov. 24. — Employed in writing on a parable all day. 
 In my evening walk, finding an old Brahmin at work in 
 the fields, I began to ask him ‘ how he, a Brahmin, was 
 obliged to work.’ He concluded his answer by saying, 
 that we English had robbed them of their country. He 
 was, for a considerable time, very violent ; but another 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 219 
 
 Brahmin, in some fright, coming up, made all up, as he 
 thought, by speaking of the brave English, &c. When I 
 began to talk to them of the day of judgment, heaven and 
 hell, they seemed surprised and pleased, and gave great 
 attention. But I have never had reason to believe, that 
 the attention of the people to anything I have to say is 
 more than respect for a ‘ Sahib.’ They never ask a ques- 
 tion about it, and probably do not understand one half, 
 even when my sentences are correct. The disaffection of 
 the people gave rise, afterwards, to many reflections in my 
 mind on what may be my future sufferings in this country : 
 but, in proportion to the apparent causes of depression, did 
 my faith and triumph in the Lord seem to rise. Come 
 what will, — let me only be found in the path of duty, and 
 nothing shall be wrong. Be my sufferings what they may, 
 they cannot equal those of my Lord, nor probably even 
 those of the Apostles and early martyrs. They ‘ through 
 faith subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, out of 
 weakness were made strong,’ &/C. and why shall not I 
 hope that I too, who am indeed ‘ like one born out of due 
 time,’ shall receive strength according to my day V* 
 
 Nov. 25. — Reached Patna this afternoon ; — walked 
 about this scene of my future ministry, with a spirit almost 
 overwhelmed at the sight of the immense multitudes. 
 There was a Rajah sitting at the door of his tent, by the 
 water-side. Came to the budgerow at night ill with a 
 headache, and still more weak and feeble in faith. Pain 
 in the head continued acute all night.” 
 
 Nov. 26. — The multitudes at the water-side prodigious. 
 Arrived, in the afternoon, at Dinapore ; but did not go on 
 shore. Employed in translating and writing on the para- 
 bles. My spirit this evening was sweetly elevated beyond 
 the people and the concerns of this world, while meditating 
 on the words, ‘ I am the Almighty God : walk before me 
 and be thou perfect.’ ” 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MR. MARTYN IS FIXED AT DINAPORE COMMENCES HIS 
 
 MINISTRY TRANSLATIONS DISPUTES WITH HIS MOON- 
 
 SHEE AND PUNDIT DIFFICULTIES RESPECTING THE 
 
 SCHOOLS HIS HAPPINESS IN THE WORK OF TRANSLA- 
 
 TION. 
 
 On reaching Dinapore, which, for a considerable time^ 
 was to be his permanent residence, Mr. Martyn’s immedi- 
 ate objects were threefold : to establish native schools,- — 
 to attain such readiness in speaking Hindoostanee, as 
 might enable him to preach in that language the Gospel of 
 the grace of God, — and to prepare translations of the 
 Scriptures and religious tracts for dispersion. We have 
 already seen that the idea of translating the parables, ac- 
 companied by some remarks upon them, had occupied his 
 mind during his voyage up the Ganges. At Dinapore he 
 continued to engage in this employment with the same 
 earnestness. Of Hindoostanee he already knew enough 
 to translate with grammatical accuracy ; and his Moonshee 
 was at hand to suggest the proper idiom, and, what in 
 that language is so difficult, the just and exact collocation 
 of the words in the sentences. The obstacles which he 
 had to overcome in acquiring the languages of the country, 
 he represents as formidable. Passing out of Bengal into 
 Bahar, he found that he had to acquaint himself with the 
 Baharree as well as the Hindoostanee ; and the Baharree 
 had its various dialects, ‘‘I am low-spirited,’’ he said 
 
MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 221 
 
 soon after reaching Dinapore, about my work ; I seem 
 to be at a stand, not knowing what course to take.” 
 From the Pundit whom he employed he learned, — though 
 the statement was probably exaggerated, — that every four 
 cos (miles) the language changes ; and by the specimens 
 he gave of a sentence in the dialects across the water at 
 Gyah, and some other places, they appeared to differ so 
 much, that a book in the dialect of one district, would be 
 unintelligible to the people of another. As the best mode 
 of acquiring a knowledge of the various oriental tongues, 
 the study of Sanscrit was recommended to him by his 
 Pundit, and with what spirit he labored in this and other 
 pursuits may be seen from his account of the work of a 
 single day. 
 
 Morning with the Pundit, occupied in Sanscrit. In 
 the afternoon, hearing a parable in the Bahar dialect. 
 Continued till late at night writing on the parables. My 
 soul much impressed with the immeasurable importance 
 of my work, and the wickedness and cruelty of wasting a 
 moment, when so many nations are, as it were, waiting 
 while I do my work. Felt eager for the morning to come 
 again, that I might resume my work.” 
 
 The difficulties of various kinds which presented them- 
 selves to Mr. Martyn, could not fail of being a source of 
 pain to him, in proportion to his fervent anxiety to benefit 
 all around him. But it was his privilege and consolation to 
 remember that he was in His hands, in whom are ‘‘ hid 
 all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge,” and ‘‘ with 
 whom all things are possible.” Had he not sought and 
 found refuge in the omnipotence of Christ, soon would he 
 have sunk into despondency. To those who have not 
 elevated their views above the feeble efforts of human 
 agency, the conversion of the heathen cannot but appear 
 to exceed the limits of possibility. Mr. Martyn, who in 
 England had met with many such disputers of this world, 
 found that India was by no means destitute of them. A 
 conversation into which he was led with one of these 
 19 * 
 
222 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 characters, was painfully trying to him ; ‘‘ but in the mul^^ 
 titude of my troubled thoughts,’^ he said, ‘‘ I still saw 
 that there is ‘strong consolation in the hope set before 
 us/ Let me labor for fifty years, midst scorn, and with- 
 out seeing one soul converted, — still it shall not be worse 
 for my soul in eternity, nor even worse for it in time. 
 ‘ Though the heathen rage,’ and the English people 
 ‘ imagine a vain thing,’ the Lord Jesus, who controls all 
 events, is my friend, — my master, — my God, — my all. 
 On this rock of ages, on which I feel my foot to rest, 
 ‘ my head is lifted up above all mine enemies round about 
 me,’ and I sing, ‘ yea, I will sing praises unto the I^ord.’ ” 
 From much of the society Mr. Martyn found at Dina- 
 pore, he received more discomfort than disappointment ; — 
 some there were, indeed, who treated him from the first 
 with the utmost kindness; — who afterwards became his 
 joy, and who one day will assuredly be his crown of re- 
 joicing. But before that happy change in them was ef- 
 fected by the power of divine grace, he found none to 
 whom he could fully and freely unbosom himself. With 
 what gladness and thankfulness, therefore, did he welcome 
 the arrival of letters from his beloved Christian friends at 
 Calcutta and in England. He speaks of being exceed- 
 ingly comforted, on returning home after a melancholy 
 walk, and finding letters from Mr. Brown and Mr. Corrie, 
 and from two of his friends in England, who were as dear 
 to him as he was to them. “ How sweet,” he said, after 
 perusing these memorials of affection, “ are the delights 
 of Christian friendship ; and what must heaven be, where 
 there are none but humble, kind, and holy children of 
 God. Such a society would of itself be a heaven to me ; 
 after what I feel at the ways of worldly people here.” 
 Nor was it only by the neglect, levity, and profaneness of 
 many of his countrymen, where he was stationed, that 
 Mr. Martyn was pained and grieved : his meek and 
 tender spirit was hurt likewise at the manner in which 
 he conceived himself to be regarded by the natives: by 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 223 
 
 the anger and contempt with which multitudes of them 
 eyed him in his palanquin at Patna, he was particularly 
 affected ; observing, ‘‘ Here every native I meet is an 
 enemy to me because I am an Englishman. England 
 appears almost a heaven upon earth, because there one is 
 not viewed as an unjust intruder. But oh 1 the heaven of 
 my God, — the ^general assembly of the first-born, the 
 spirits of just men made perfect,’ and Jesus ! O let me, 
 for a little moment, labor and suffer reproach.” 
 
 The observations he was compelled to hear from his 
 Moonshee and Pundit, often present a curious and affect- 
 ing display of Pagan and Mohammedan ignorance.* 
 ^‘Upon showing,” he writes, “the Moonshee the first 
 part of John iii. he instantly caught at those words of our 
 Lord, in which he first describes himself as having come 
 down from heaven, and then calls himself ‘ the Son of 
 Man which is in heaven.’ He said that this was what 
 the philosophers called ‘ nickal,’ or impossible, — even for 
 God to make a thing to be in two different places at the 
 same time. I explained to him, as soon as his heat was 
 a little subsided, that the difficulty was not so much in 
 conceiving how the Son of Man could be, at the same 
 time, in two different places, as in comprehending that 
 union of the two natures in him, which made this possible. 
 I told him that I could not explain this union ; but showed 
 him the design and wisdom of God in effecting our re- 
 demption by this method. I was much at a loss for words, 
 but I believe that he collected my meaning, and received 
 some information which he did not possess before.” 
 
 In another place he says, “ On reading some parts of 
 the epistles of St. John to my Moonshee, he seemed to 
 
 * Many of these observations, as well as those made by the Per- 
 sians with whom Mr. Martyn entered into religious discussion, can- 
 not fail of giving pain to a Christian heart ; but missionaries ought 
 to be apprised of the nature of those weapons with which Chris- 
 tianity is assailed by Infidels. For their sakes much is inserted 
 which otherwise had doubtless far better have been omitted. 
 
224 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 view them with great contempt : so far above the wisdom 
 of the world is their divine simplicity ! The Moonshee 
 told me, at night, that when the Pundit came to the part 
 about the angels ‘separating the evil from the good;’ he 
 said, with some surprise, that there v/as no such thing in 
 his Shaster ; but that, at the end of the world, the sun 
 would come so near, as first to burn all the men, then the 
 mountains, then the debtas (inferior gods), then the 
 waters : then God, reducing himself to the size of a 
 thumb-nail, would swim on the leaf of a peepul tree.” 
 
 The commencement of Mr. Martyn’s ministry amongst 
 the Europeans of Dinapore, was not of such a kind as 
 either to gratify or encourage him. At first he read 
 prayers to the soldiers at the barracks from the drum- 
 head, and as there were no seats provided, was desired 
 to omit his sermon. 
 
 Arrangements being afterwards made for the perform- 
 ance of divine service with somewhat of that order and 
 decency which becomes its celebration, the resident fami- 
 lies at Dinapore assembled on the Sabbath, and attended 
 Mr. Martyn’s ministry. By many of these, offence was 
 taken at his not reading to them a written sermon, and it 
 was intimated to him by letter, that it was their wish that 
 he should desist from extempore preaching. At such an 
 interference on the part of his flock, he confesses that he 
 was at first roused into anger and displeasure ; — he could 
 not but think that the people committed to his charge, 
 had forgotten the relation which subsisted between hkn 
 and them, in dictating to him the mode in which they 
 thought proper to be addressed : on mature reflection, 
 however, he resolved upon compliance for the sake of 
 conciliation: — saying that, “he would give them a foHo 
 sermon-book, if they would receive the word of God on 
 that account.” 
 
 Whilst the flock at Dinapore were thus overstepping 
 the limits of respect and propriety, Mr. Martyn was in- 
 formed that one of his brethren at Calcutta was about to 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 225 
 
 transgress the rules of Christian charity very grievously, 
 by publishing one of those pulpit invectives which had 
 been fulminated against him on his arrival at Calcutta- 
 Such an act in a brother chaplain would, in some minds, 
 have excited vindictive feelings. In his, the chief excite- 
 ment was a discomposure, arising from an apprehension, 
 that he might be compelled to undertake a public refuta- 
 tion of this attack on his doctrine ; — an undertaking which 
 would consume much of that precious time which he 
 wished wholly to devote to his missionary work. 
 
 Thus terminated the year 1806; — on the last day of 
 which Mr. Martyn appears to have been much engaged in 
 prayer and profitable meditation on the lapse of time : 
 feeling communion with the saints of God in the world, 
 whose minds were turned to the consideration of those 
 awful things which cannot but be suggested to a reflect- 
 ing mind by a year irrecoverably past. 
 
 On the first day of the year 1807, Mr. Martyn was led 
 to the following reflection, from whence we perceive, that 
 it is the work of the self-same Spirit to convince the soul 
 of sin; to constrain it to unreserved obedience; and to 
 fill it with unutterable consolation. 
 
 Seven years have passed away since I was first called 
 of God. Before the conclusion of another seven years, 
 how probable is it that these hands will have mouldered 
 into dust ! But be it so : my soul through grace hath 
 received the assurance of eternal life, and I see the days 
 of my pilgrimage shortening without a wish to add to their 
 number. But O may I be stirred up to a faithful discharge 
 of my high and awful work ; and, laying aside, as much 
 as may be, all carnal cares and studies, may I give myself 
 to this ‘ one thing.’ The last has been a year to be remem- 
 bered by me, because the Lord has brought me safely to 
 India, and permitted me to begin, in one sense, my mis- 
 sionary work. My trials in it have been very few ; every 
 thing has turned out better than I expected ; loving kind- 
 
226 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ness and tender mercies have attended me at every step'? 
 therefore here wiW 1 sing his praise. I have been an un- 
 profitable servant, but the Lord hath not cut me ofi*: I 
 have been wayward and perverse, yet he has brought me 
 further on the way to Zion : here, then, with seven-fold 
 gratitude and affection, would I stop and devote myself to 
 the blissful service of my adorable Lord. May he continue 
 his patience, his grace, his direction, his spiritual influ- 
 ences, and I shall at last surely come off conqueror ! May 
 he speedily open my mouth, to make known the mysteries 
 of the Gospel, and in great mercy grant that the heathen 
 may receive it and live I” 
 
 The commencement of the new year was devoted by 
 Mr. Martyn to the work which was still before him, of 
 translating and commenting on the parables, as well as to 
 the attainment of the Sanscrit. Sustained by the hope of 
 future usefulness, he experienced much pleasure, not only 
 in urging his toilsome way through the rudiments of that 
 language, but even when he appeared, notwithstanding 
 every exertion, to be making no sensible progress in it. 
 
 Employed,’’ he says, one day in the month of January, 
 1807, — morning and evening in Sanscrit grammar, and 
 in the afternoon, in translating the parables. Though I 
 scarcely stirred in Sanscrit, yet by keeping myself steady 
 to the work, I had much comfort in my soul, and this day, 
 like all others, fled swiftly away.” 
 
 To these employments he added another also, — the 
 translation into Hindoostanee of those parts of the Book 
 of Common Prayer, which are most frequently used. This 
 project, when it first occurred to him, so arrested his mind, 
 that he instantly began to translate, and proceeded as far 
 as the end of the Te Deum : fearing, however, as it was the 
 Sabbath, that such an employment might not be in perfect 
 harmony with the sacred solemnity of that day, inasmuch 
 as it was not strictly of a devotional kind, he desisted from 
 making further progress ; — so deep was his reverence for a 
 divine appointment ; — so jealous his fear of offending his 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 227 
 
 God ! After passing, therefore, the remainder of the day 
 in reading the Holy Scriptures, and singing praises to the 
 Lord, he closed it with these reflections : — “ O how shall 
 I sufficiently praise my God, that here in this solitude, 
 with people enough, indeed, but without a saint, I yet feel 
 fellowship with all those who, in every place, call on the 
 name of our Lord Jesus Christ. I see myself travelling 
 on with them, and I hope I shall worship with them in his 
 courts above !’’ 
 
 These peculiar studies, as well as the conversations 
 which Mr. Martyn frequently had with the natives (for 
 which purpose he went about without his palanquin), were 
 regarded by many with a mixture of jealousy, fear, and 
 contempt. Did he so much as speak to a native, — it was 
 enough to excite wonder and alarm : nor is this a matter 
 of surprise, when we consider, that all love for the soul, 
 and all fear of God, are as certainly absent and inoperative 
 in worldly characters, as the love of pleasure and the fear 
 of man are present and predominant. And if, in ordinary 
 circumstances, such a line of conduct as Mr. Martyn 
 adopted in India, was calculated to awaken the apprehen- 
 sions of those who lived chiefly for this world ; — at this 
 particular juncture, it was more likely to be attended with 
 these effects. For just at this time, the settlement was 
 thrown into some consternation by hearing of the sudden 
 arrival of twelve thousand Mahrattas in the neighbor- 
 hood : — of which event the alarmists at Dinapore might 
 be ready to take advantage, and endeavor in some way or 
 other to connect it with Mr. Martyn^s plans for the con- 
 version of the natives to Christianity. These troops, 
 however, had qther objects than those which the wakeful 
 fears of some might have assigned them ; their destination 
 being simply to attend one of their chiefs on a pilgrimage 
 to Benares. 
 
 Religious discussions between Mr. Martyn, his Moon- 
 shee, and Pundit, were almost of daily occurrence, and as 
 
228 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 they serve to throw some light on his character, as well as 
 on that of those with whom a missionary must be conver- 
 sant in India, it may be useful again to refer to what his 
 journals contain on this head. 
 
 Long disputes with the Moonshee on the enjoyments 
 of heaven ; I felt some mortification at not having a com- 
 mand of language. There are a variety of lesser argu- 
 ments, the force of which consists in their being brought 
 together in rapid succession in conversation : which noth- 
 ing but a command of words can enable one to effect. 
 However, I was enabled to tell the Moonshee one thing; — 
 that my chief enjoyment, even now on earth, was the en- 
 joyment of God’s presence, and a growing conformity to 
 him ; and therefore, I asked, what motives could the 
 promise of houris, ghilmans, green meadows, and eating 
 and drinking in paradise afford me. My soul sweetly 
 blessed the Lord in secret, that this testimony was 
 true ; and O what a change must have been wrought 
 in me.” 
 
 Jan. 16. — ^‘Employed on the Sanscrit; — in the after- 
 noon, collecting idiomatic phrases for the parables. Fin- 
 ished the first epistle of St. John with the Moonshee. I 
 asked him what he thought of those passages which so 
 strongly express the doctrine of the Trinity, and of the 
 divinity of Christ : he said he never would believe it : be- 
 cause the Koran declared it to be sinful to say that God 
 had any son. I told him that he ought to pray that God 
 would teach him what the truth really is. He said he 
 had no occasion to pray on this subject, as the word of 
 God was express. I asked him whether some doubt ought 
 not to arise in his mind, whether the Koran is the word of 
 God. He grew angry; and I felt hurt and vexed. I 
 should have done better to have left the words of the chap- 
 ter with him, without saying any thing. I went also too 
 far with the Pundit, in arguing against his superstition ; 
 for he also grew angry. If any qualification seems neces- 
 sary to a missionary in India, — it is wisdom, — operating 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 229 
 
 in the regulation of the temper, and the due improvement 
 of opportunities.’^ 
 
 ‘‘ Dictating to-day the explanation of a parable to the 
 Moonshee, I had occasion to give the proofs of the cor- 
 ruption of human nature ; and drew the conclusion that, 
 hence, till our hearts are changed, we are abominable in 
 the sight of God, and our own works, however useful to 
 men, are worthless in his sight. I think I never saw 
 such a striking instance of the truth grappling with human 
 nature ; he seemed like a fish when he first finds that the 
 hook has hold of him ; he was in a dreadful rage, and 
 endeavored to escape from the convictions these truths 
 produced; but seemingly in vain. At last, recovering 
 himself, he said he had a question to ask ; which was, — 
 what would become of children, if the dispositions they 
 were born with rendered them odious in the sight of God ? 
 I gave him the best answer I could : but he considered it 
 nothing, because founded on Scripture ; and said, with 
 great contempt, that this was mere matter of faith, the 
 same sort of thing as when the Hindoos believed the non- 
 sense of their Shasters.” 
 
 How delightful must it have been to Mr. Martyn to 
 turn, as he did at this time, from controversies with these 
 unbelievers, to the enjoyment of Christian converse and 
 communion with his beloved friend and brother, Mr. 
 Corrie; who, towards the end of January, visited him, on 
 his way to his station at Chunar. Many a happy hour did 
 these servants of Jesus Christ then pass, in fellowship with 
 one another ; for truly their fellowship was with the F ather, 
 and with his Son Jesus Christ. With one accord they 
 often fell at the feet of their Redeemer in supplication and 
 thanksgiving ; — they read his holy word ; they rejoiced 
 together in its promises; — they spake to one another of 
 the glory of Christ’s kingdom ; and talked of his power ; 
 and they parted, sorrowfully indeed, yet earnestly desiring 
 each to be employed in his proper work. ‘^Our com- 
 munion,” said Mr. Martyn, respecting this interview, 
 
230 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 has been refreshing ; at least to me ; and the Lord has 
 sanctified our meeting by his presence and his gracious 
 influences.” 
 
 With respect to the Europeans, amongst whom Mr. 
 Marty n ministered, he had much reason to be gratified 
 with the reception he met with from those whom he at- 
 tended in the hospital : but he had equal cause to be 
 dissatisfied and grieved with the behavior which he wit- 
 nessed, too generally, in the houses of the wealthy. Can 
 we be surprised, therefore, that he should prefer, as he 
 did, the house of mourning, to that of feasting ? In 
 vain did he endeavor, amongst the upper ranks, to in- 
 troduce religious topics in conversation. I spoke,” 
 he said, after visiting some of these, several times about 
 religion to them ; but the manner in which it was re- 
 ceived damped all further attempt. ‘ Who hath believed 
 our report, and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed V 
 How awful does the thought sometimes appear to me, that 
 almost the whole world are united against God and his 
 Christ. O thou injured Sovereign ! O Lord, how long 
 will it be ere thou plead thine own cause, and make bare 
 thine arm in the sight of the nations ? Let me in patience 
 possess my soul ; and though iniquity abound, may I never 
 wax cold, but be brought safely through all this darkness 
 and danger to a happier world ! To thousands my word 
 will, perhaps, prove a ‘ savor of death unto death.’ Let 
 me, nevertheless, go on steadily in the path which the 
 Lord hath marked out; perhaps some poor soul may be 
 converted by what he shall hear from me ; or, if not, I 
 shall have done my work.” In such society, as might be 
 expected, lie found his desires and endeavors for the con- 
 version of the heathen invariably discountenanced and 
 0])posed. Having, on one occasion, referred to the Com- 
 pany’s charter,* as not only permitting, but even enjoin- 
 
 * For an account of the East India Company’s charter, see Ap- 
 pendix F. E. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 231 
 
 ing the communication of religious instruction to the na* 
 tives, — coldness and distance, on the part of those he was 
 visiting, were the immediate consequences of his observa- 
 tions. But his soul could rejoice in God, that if men 
 were unkind, it was for Christ’s sake ; and he felt deter- 
 mined to go on with vigor ; though the whole world of 
 wretched men should oppose.” 
 
 With respect to the conversion of the natives to the 
 nominal profession of Christianity, in Mr. Martyn’s opin- 
 ion, the difficulty was by no means great. He was sur- 
 prised at the laxity of principle which seemed to prevail 
 among them, and could well perceive that the idea of em- 
 bracing the religion of the English was very pleasant to 
 the Pundit, and to other Hindoos. But he did not fail to 
 explain to them, that it was no object of his to make 
 them ‘ Feringees,’ in the sense in which they understood 
 it; and assured them that if all the Brahmins and Rajahs 
 of the country would come to him for baptism, he would 
 not baptize them, except he believed that they repented, 
 and would renounce the world.” 
 
 With the condition of the natives in a moral point of 
 view, Mr. Martyn had but too much reason to be shocked 
 and affected : and he was sometimes called upon to inter- 
 fere, and that with some personal hazard, to prevent acts 
 of the greatest turpitude and injustice among them. ‘‘My 
 Surdar,” he says, “ was imprisoned by an unjust CotwaL 
 I sent word for him to give nothing for his release ; and 
 not to fear : the Cotwal was afraid, and let the man go, 
 and ceased his claim upon his relations. This has been 
 a long and iniquitous business. I felt quite thankful that 
 the Lord had thus shown himself the father of the father- 
 less. I could hardly believe such barefaced oppression.. 
 How much has the Gospel done in producing sentiments 
 of justice and equity in all ranks of people in Christendom ! 
 — The poor people here seem unable to comprehend it.’^ 
 
 “ he adds, ‘^developed a system of villany carried 
 
 on in the country, through the supineness of , which 
 
232 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 astonished and grieved me beyond measure. I determined 
 
 to go to myself, and tell him what I had heard ; but 
 
 thought it prudent to defer it till after my distant journey 
 to Buxar ; in which the Cotwal, who is the head of a gang 
 of robbers, with which the whole country is swarming, 
 might easily procure my assassination ; if, by getting him 
 turned out, I should provoke him. I thought it, however, 
 a duty I owe to God, to him, to the poor oppressed natives, 
 and to my country, to exert myself in this business ; and 
 I felt authorized to risk my life.” 
 
 The journey to Buxar, during which, Mr. Martyn feared 
 that, without prudence, he might possibly become a victim 
 to the sudden revenge of one, whose daily oppressions 
 caused many to weep without a comforter, — was taken on 
 the 16th of February : and it may surprise those, who are 
 not aware of the very slender proportion of chaplains then 
 allotted to our empire in India, to be informed that he 
 travelled seventy miles for the purpose of performing part 
 of his pastoral duty in the celebration of a marriage. But 
 before we attend him on this journey, let us notice his 
 abstraction from the world; his sacred peace; his holy 
 aspirations; his deep contrition at this period: — ‘‘I felt 
 more entirely withdrawn from the world, than for a long 
 time past : what a dark atheistical state do I generally live 
 in ! Alas ! that this creation should so engross my mind, 
 and the author of it be so slightly and coldly regarded. I 
 found myself, at this time, truly a stranger and a pilgrim 
 in the world ; and I did suppose that not a wish remained 
 for anything here. The experience of my heart was de- 
 lightful. I enjoyed a peace that passeth all understanding ; 
 no desire remained, but that this peace might be confirmed 
 and increased. O why should anything draw away my 
 attention, whilst Thou art ever near and ever accessible 
 through the Son of Thy love ? O why do I not always 
 walk with God, forgetful of a vain and perishable world ? 
 Amazing patience ! He bears with this faithless, foolish 
 heart, and suffers me to come, laden with sins, to receive 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 233 
 
 new pardon, new grace, every day. Why does not such 
 love make me hate those sins which grieve him, and hide 
 him from my sight? I sometimes make vain resolutions, 
 in my own strength, that I will think of God. Reason, 
 and Scripture, and experience, teach me that such a life is 
 happiness and holiness ; that by ‘ beholding his glory,’ I 
 should be changed ^ into his image, from glory to glory,’ 
 and be freed from those anxieties which make me unhappy ; 
 and that, every motive to duty being strong, obedience 
 would be easy.” 
 
 Of his journey to Buxar, Mr. Martyn has left the follow- 
 ing account. February 16. — Rose very early, and accu- 
 mulated work for my Moonshee in my absence. Made 
 
 my will, and left it with . At half-past three, set off 
 
 in a palanquin, and in four hours reached the Soane. 
 From thence travelled all night, and at nine next morning 
 reached Buxar. Being unable to sleep, I arrived so sick 
 and unwell, as to be convinced of the unprofitableness of 
 travelling by night in this country. By reading some of 
 the epistle to the Ephesians before it grew dark, and medi- 
 tating upon it afterwards, my time passed agreeably ; and 
 I thought with delight of the time when I should be able 
 to adopt the Apostle’s words with respect to the heathen 
 around me. After breakfast I lay down, and endeavored 
 in vain to get sleep. I was much assisted in conversation 
 with the family after dinner, when we conversed much on 
 religious subjects ; and I had as good an opportunity as I 
 could have wished, of explaining the nature of the Gospel, 
 and offering considerations for embracing it. I retired to 
 rest with my heart full of joy, at being thus assisted to pass 
 the time profitably.” 
 
 Feb. 18. — ^^My birth-day, — twenty-six.- — With all the 
 numerous occasions for deep humiliation, I have cause for 
 praise, in recollecting the promising openings and impor- 
 tant changes which have occurred since my last birth-day. 
 The Lord, in love, make me wax stronger and stronger ! — 
 Walked, afler breakfast, to a pagoda within the fort at. 
 
 20 ^ 
 
234 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Buxar, where a Brahmin read and expounded. It was a 
 scene, I suppose, descriptive of the ancient times of Hindoo 
 glory. The Brahmin sat under the shade of a large ban- 
 yan near the pagoda ; his hair and beard were white, and 
 his head most gracefully crowned with a garland of flowers., 
 A servant of the Rajah sat on his right hand, at right 
 angles; and the venerable man then sung the Sanscrit 
 verses of the Huribuns, and explained them to him with- 
 out turning his head, but only his eyes, which had a very 
 dignified effect. I waited for the first pause to ask some 
 questions, which led to a long conversation : and this ended 
 by my attempting to give them a history of redemption. 
 The Rajah’s servant was a very modest, pensive man, but 
 did not seem to understand what I said so well as the old 
 Brahmin, who expressed his surprise and pleasure, as well 
 as the other, at finding a Sahib who cared anything about 
 religion. I afterwards sent a copy of the Nagree Gospels 
 to the servant, desiring that it might be given to the Rajah, 
 if he would accept it. In the evening I married and ad- 
 ministered the sacrament to and at their own 
 
 desire.” 
 
 Feb. 19. — ‘‘ Rose at four and left Buxar, and at nine in 
 the evening reached Dinapore in safety ; — blessed be 
 God ! — May my life, thus preserved by unceasing Provi- 
 dence, be his willing sacrifice.” 
 
 The scene Mr. Martyn witnessed in the pagoda at 
 Buxar, was succeeded, soon after his return to Dinapore, 
 by another which he describes as still more interesting. 
 
 poor Jew from Babylon came to me begging. He 
 was tall, but stooping from weakness, and his countenance 
 strongly marked with grief When, at his first arrival, I 
 asked him if he was a Mussulman, he said in a low and 
 pensive tone of voice, — No 1 an Isralee. Alas ! poor 
 people, still full of the fury of the Lord, the rebuke of thy 
 God ! I felt all the tenderness of a kinsman towards him, 
 and found myself, as it were, at home with an Asiatic who 
 acknowledged the God of Abraham. The passage in 
 
HENRY MARTYN. *235 
 
 Isaiah ix. 5, 6, he rendered as meaning the Almighty 
 God” 
 
 The state of the schools, five of which, at his own ex- 
 pense solely, Mr. Martyn had instituted in and about 
 Dinapore, now began to occasion him some anxiety. An 
 alarm was spread that it was his intention to seize upon ail 
 the children, and, in some compulsory manner, make them 
 Christians. The school at Patna, in consequence, sud- 
 denly sunk in number, from forty children to eight : and 
 at Dinapore, a spot of ground which had been fixed upon 
 for the erection of a school-room, could not be obtained 
 from the Zemindar. In this perplexity Mr. Martyn lost 
 no time in ascertaining what a soothing, and at the same 
 time sincere, explanation of his sentiments might effect; 
 and for this purpose he went to Patna. There, in addi- 
 tion to his present perplexities, he had the severe pain of 
 beholding a servant of the Company, — a man advanced in 
 years and occupying a situation of great respectability, — 
 living in a state of daring apostasy from the Christian 
 faith, and openly professing his preference for Moham- 
 medanism. He had even built a mosque of his own ; 
 which at this season, being the Mohurrun, was adorned 
 with flags ; and being illuminated at night, proclaimed the 
 shame of the offender. It will readily be supposed that 
 Mr. Martyn did not fail to sound a warning voice in the 
 ears of this miserable apostate : — he charged him to re- 
 member whence he was fallen,^’ — and exhorted him to 
 consider, that the Son of God had died for sinners.’^ 
 
 At the school at Patna, neither children nor teacher 
 were to be found ; — all, as if struck by a panic, had ab- 
 sented themselves. The people, however, quickly gath- 
 ered in crowds, and to them Mr. Martyn declared, that his 
 intentions had been misunderstood ; when, such was the 
 effect of temperate reasonings and mild expostulations, 
 that all apprehensions were removed almost as quickly as 
 they had been excited ; — and in a few days the children 
 came as usual to the schools of Patna and Dinapore. 
 
236 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 By February 24, a work was completed by Mr. Martyn, 
 which, had he effected nothing else, would have proved 
 that he had not lived in vain, — the translation of the book 
 of Common Prayer into Hindoostapee ; and on Sunday, 
 March 15, he commenced the performance of divine wor- 
 ship in the vernacular language of India, concluding with 
 an exhortation from the Scripture, in the same tongue. 
 The spectacle was as novel as it was gratifying, — to behold 
 two hundred women, Portuguese, Roman Catholics, and 
 Mohammedans, ci*owding to attend the service of the 
 Church of England, which had lost nothing, doubtless, of 
 its beautiful simplicity and devout solemnity, in being 
 clothed with an oriental dress. 
 
 Toward the lutter end of the month of March, another 
 useful work was also brought to a conclusion, — that of a 
 Commentary on the Parables.” — The little book of the 
 Parables,” — Mr. Martyn wrote to Mr. Corrie at this time, 
 is finished, through the blessing of God : I cannot say 
 that I am very well pleased on the re-perusal of it : but 
 yet, containing, as it does, such large portions of the word 
 of God, I ought not to doubt its accomplishing that which 
 He pleaseth.” 
 
 Talking to the Moonshee,” — he says in his Journal, — 
 of the probable effects of that work, ^‘he cut me to the 
 very heart by his contemptuous reflections on the Gospel ; — 
 saying that, after the present generation was passed away, 
 a race of fools might perhaps arise j who would try to be- 
 lieve, that God could be a man, and man God, and who 
 would say that this is the word of God. One advantage I 
 may derive from his bitterness and disrespect, is, that I 
 shall be surprised at no appearances of the same temper in 
 oj^hers in future. May my Lord enable me to maintain an 
 invincible spirit of love ! — How sweet that glorious day, 
 when Jesus Christ shall reign ! Death at several times of 
 this day appeared infinitely sweet in this view of it, — that 
 I shall then go to behold the glory of Christ.” 
 
 Mr. Martyn’s duties on the Sabbath had now increased i 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 237 
 
 —consisting of one service at seven in the morning to the 
 Europeans, another at two in the afternoon to the Hindoos, 
 and an attendance at the hospital : after which, in the 
 evening, he ministered privately at his own rooms to those 
 soldiers who were most seriously impressed with a sense of 
 divine things. From the following statement we may see 
 and appreciate his exertions. — '' The English service, at 
 seven in the morning. I preached on Luke xxii. 22. As 
 is always the case when I preach about Christ, a spiritual 
 influence was diffused over my soul. The rest of the 
 morning, till dinner time, I spent not unprofitably in read- 
 ing Scripture and David Brainerd, and in prayer. That 
 dear saint of God, David Brainerd, is truly a man after my 
 own heart. Although I cannot go half-way with him in 
 spirituality and devotion, I cordially unite with "him in such 
 of his holy breathings as I have attained unto. How sweet 
 and wise, like him and the saints of old, to pass through 
 this world as a serious and considerate stranger. I have 
 had more of this temper to-day than of late, and every duty 
 has been in harmony with my spirit. The service in Hin- 
 doostanee was at two o’clock. The number of women not 
 above one hundred. I expounded chap. iii. of St. Mat- 
 thew. Notwithstanding the general apathy with which 
 they seemed to receive every thing, there were two or three 
 who, I was sure, understood and felt something. But, 
 beside them, not a single creature, European or native, was 
 present. Yet true spirituality, with all its want of attrac- 
 tion for the carnal heart, did prevail over the splendid 
 shows of Greece and Rome, and shall again here. A man 
 at the hospital much refreshed me, by observing, that if I 
 made an acquisition of but one convert in my whole life, 
 . it would be a rich reward ; and that I was taking the only 
 possible way to this end. This man’s remark was much 
 
 more sensible than ’s yesterday, who, it seems, had 
 
 full information of my schools, &c. and said that I should 
 make no proselytes. ‘ Thy judgments are far above out of 
 their sight.’ How positively they speak, as if thei^ was 
 
238 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 no God who could influence the heart. At night, B , 
 
 and S , came, and we had the usual service.’^ 
 
 With those soldiers who attended Mr. Martyn always 
 on the evening of the Sabbath, and often on some other 
 evenings of the week, he enjoyed true spiritual commu- 
 nion. Their number was at first very small, amounting 
 at the most to five; sometimes, indeed, only one could 
 attend, but with him he would gladly unite in prayer and 
 praise, and in reading the Scriptures ; and the promise of 
 the Redeemer’s gracious presence was verified, to their 
 abundant consolation. 
 
 Over some few of the officers stationed at Dinapore he 
 now began to rejoice, with that joy which those faithful 
 ministers alone can estimate, who, after much earnest 
 preaching and admonition, and after many prayers and 
 tears, at length perceive a fruitful result of their anxious 
 endeavors to win souls and glorify their Lord. One of 
 these, who from the first,” to use Mr. Martyn’s own 
 words, ‘‘ had treated him with the kindness of a father,” 
 at this time excited expectations, which soon ripened into 
 a delightful certainty, that he had turned with full purpose 
 of heart to his Redeemer. But if Mr. Martyn’s happiness 
 was great, in witnessing this effect of the divine blessing 
 on his ministry; so also was his anxiety, lest this new 
 convert should relapse, and walk again according to the 
 course of this world ; and he began, for the first time, he 
 said, in reference to him, to enter into the spirit of the 
 Apostle’s words, — ‘‘Now we live, if ye stand fast in the 
 Lord.” 
 
 To those ministerial duties in which he was now 
 engaged, Mr. Martyn considered that in prudence he 
 ought, for the present, to confine himself ; — had he given 
 way at once to the strong and full-flowing tide of his zeal 
 and love, it would immediately have carried him, with the 
 Bible in his hand, into the streets of Patna; though to 
 have commenced his ministry in that idolatrous city, 
 would, as he confesses to Mr. Corrie, have cost him much. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 239 
 
 He wrote to Mr. C. in these ardent and energetic terms, 
 
 . — ‘‘ O that the time were come that I should be able to 
 carry the war into the enemy’s territory. It will be a 
 severe trial to the flesh, my dear brother, for us both ; — 
 but it is sufficient for the disciple to be as his master, and 
 the servant as his lord. We shall be ‘ accounted as the 
 filth of the world, and the off-scouring of all things.’ But 
 glory be to God, if we shall be accounted worthy to sufier 
 shame for the name of the Lord Jesus. The cause we 
 undertake is, if possible, more odious and contemptible 
 in the eyes of the people of this country than it was in the 
 primitive times : and that because of the misconduct of 
 the Roman Catholic missionaries, in administering bap- 
 tism to people without repentance. It is no more than 
 natural that ‘ Christian’ should be a name of execration, 
 to those who know no more of Christianity than what they 
 have hitherto observed in this country.” 
 
 To that unrestrained intercourse by letter, which Mr. 
 Martyn held weekly with Mr. Corrie, he was indebted for 
 much of the purest felicity of his life. Such a friend, 
 stationed near him in such a country, he ranked amongst 
 the richest blessings showered down upon him from on 
 high. For, if we except his other brethren in India, with 
 whom he statedly corresponded every quarter, and often 
 also at other times, and never but with great delight, — he 
 had no one like-minded, who would naturally care for the 
 souls of the heathen ; Mr. Corrie was of one heart with 
 himself 
 
 An interruption of this correspondence, which now 
 took place, painful as it was in itself to Mr. Martyn, was 
 more so with respect to its cause. The military station 
 at Chunar is considered more adverse to the constitution 
 of an European than almost any other in India ; and the 
 heat, which in the month of March raised the thermome- 
 ter at Dinapore to 92^ in the shade, at Chunar was still 
 more oppressively intense. Mr. Corrie’s health began in 
 consequence to be seriously affected, and many apprehen 
 
240 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 sions for his most valuable life, forced themselves upon 
 the mind of Mr. Martyn. 
 
 The following extract of a letter written upon this oc- 
 casion, shows Mr. Martyn’s anxiety for his friend, and 
 evinces also how fully he was alive to the necessity of sub- 
 jecting the impetuosity of zeal to the discriminating cor- 
 rection of wisdom. If there is nothing on the rock of 
 Chunar which occasions your frequent illness, I am sure 
 I am not one to advise you to leave the flock. But if 
 there is, — as I have much reason to believe, — then the 
 mere loss of your services to the few people there, is, I 
 think, not sufficient reason for hazarding your life, in 
 which the interests of millions of others are immediately 
 involved. — Consider, you bring a fixed habit of body with 
 you, and must humor it as much as possible, at first. 
 When, after the experience of a year or two, you know 
 what you can bear, go, if you please, to the extent of your 
 powers. It is not agreeable to the pride and self-right- 
 eous parts of our nature, to be conferring with flesh and 
 blood : nature, under a religious form, would rather 
 squander away life and strength, as David Brainerd did. 
 You know that I regard him as one ‘ the latchet of 
 whose shoes I am not worthy to unloose and yet, con- 
 sidering the palpable impropriety of his attempting to do 
 what he did, when he ought to have been in medical 
 hands, — and not being able to ascribe it to folly, in such 
 a sensible man, — I feel disposed, perhaps from motives of 
 censoriousness, to ascribe it to the desire of gaining his 
 own good opinion.’’ — Then, proceeding to the subject 
 which lay so near both their hearts, — the conversion of 
 the heathen, — he thus concludes : ‘‘ I long to hear of a 
 Christian school established at Benares : it will be like 
 the ark of God brought into the house of Dagon. But do 
 not be in a hurry : let your character become known, and 
 you may do anything. If nothing else comes of our 
 schools, one thing I feel assured of, — that the children 
 will grow up ashamed of the idolatry and other customs of 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 241 
 
 their country. But surely the general conversion of the 
 natives is not far off : — the poverty of the Brahmins makes 
 them less anxious for the continuance of the present 
 system, from which they gain but little. But the transla- 
 tion of the Scriptures is the grand point. I trust we shall 
 have the heavenly pleasure of dispersing the Scriptures 
 together through the interior. Oh! the happiness and 
 honor of being the children of God, the ministers of 
 Christ 
 
 Mr. Martyn’s own health, as well as that of his friend, 
 was reduced at this time to a weak and languid state. 
 To the debilitating effects of the heated atmosphere, this 
 was in part, perhaps, to be attributed ; but it was certainly 
 increased, if not induced, by his too severe abstinence. 
 Most strictly did he observe the holy seasons set apart by 
 the Church for fasting and prayer : — but the illness under 
 which he now labored, was so evidently aggravated, if not 
 occasioned, by abstinence, that he became convinced that 
 the exercise of fasting was so injurious to his health as to 
 be improper, in the degree and frequency in which he had 
 been accustomed to use it. 
 
 In this sickness, however, — though an extreme languor 
 accompanied it, — he was not only patient but active. On 
 the Sabbath he would by no means desist from his work. 
 — ‘‘ I was assisted,’’ he says, ‘‘ to go through the usual 
 ministrations without pain. In the morning I preached 
 on Psalm xvi. 8, 10, and administered the Lord’s supper 
 with rather more solemnity and feeling than I usually 
 have. The rest of the morning I could do little but lie 
 down. In the afternoon I found, I suppose, two hundred 
 women, and expounded again at considerable length. Read 
 the Pilgrim’s Progress at the hospital. In exposition with 
 the soldiers I found great enlargement.” 
 
 In proof of that wretchedness and ignorance in the na- 
 tives, which so excited Mr. Martyn’s compassion for them, 
 we may adduce two instances with which he himself has 
 furnished us ; — in the cases of a Brahmin, and a Ranee, or 
 21 
 
242 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 native princess, though, perhaps, the Brahmin may be 
 considered as only avowing sentiments too common amongst 
 many who are yet called Christians, and have the book of 
 God in their hands. A Brahmin,’’ he says, “ visiting my 
 Pundit, copied out the parable in which the ten command- 
 ments were written, with a determination to put them all 
 accurately into practice, in order to be united with God. — 
 He had, however, an observation to make, and a question 
 to ask. ‘ There was nothing,’ he said, ‘ commanded to 
 be done, only things to be abstained from ; and if he should 
 be taken ill in the bazaar, or while laughing, and die ; and, 
 through fear of transgressing the third commandment, 
 should not mention the name of God, should he go to 
 heaven’?” — ‘‘The Ranee of Daoudnagur, to whom I had 
 sent a copy of the Gospels by the Pundit, returned her 
 compliments, and desired to know what must be done for 
 obtaining benefit from the book ; whether prayer, or 
 making a salam (a bow) to it? I sent her word that she 
 must seek divine instruction by secret prayer, and I also 
 added some other advice.” 
 
 Little as there was that was promising in either of these 
 characters, there was yet more appearance of what might 
 be thought hopeful in them, than in Mr. Martyn’s Moon* 
 shee and Pundit, whom he still continued to labor inces* 
 santly, though unsuccessfully, to convince of their awful 
 errors. 
 
 “ My faith,” he complains again, “ is tried by many 
 things; especially by disputes with the Moonshee and 
 the Pundit. The Moonshee shows remarkable con- 
 tempt for the doctrine of the Trinity. ‘ It shows 
 God to be weak,’ he says, ‘ if he is obliged to have a 
 fellow. God was not obliged to become man, for if we 
 had all perished, he would have suffered no loss. And 
 as to pardon, and the difficulty of it, I pardon my servant 
 very easily, and there is an end. As to the Jewish Scrip- 
 tures, how do I know but they were altered by themselves ? 
 They were wicked enough to do it, just as they made a 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 243 
 
 calf/ — In all these things I answered so fully that he 
 had nothing to reply.” “ In the afternoon I had a long 
 argument again with the Pundit. He, too, wanted to 
 degrade the person of Jesus, and said that neither Brahma, 
 Vishnu, nor Seib were so low as to be born of a woman; 
 and that every sect wished to exalt its teacher, and so the 
 Christians did Jesus.’^ 
 
 March 14. — The quotations which I collected from 
 Scripture this day, in treating on the parable of the in- 
 considerate king, in order to illustrate the idea of the suf- 
 ferings to which Christians are exposed, seemed to offend 
 both the Moonshee and the Pundit very much. In con- 
 sidering the text — ^ the time cometh when he that killeth 
 you shall think he doeth God service,’ — he defended the 
 practice of putting infidels to death, and the certainty of 
 salvation to Moslems dying in battle with the infidels; 
 and said that it was no more strange than for a magistrate 
 to have power to put an offender to death. He took oc- 
 casion also to say, that both the New Testament, as we 
 gave it, and the church service also, were stuffed with 
 blasphemies. With the benighted Pundit I had a long 
 conversation, as he seemed to be more in earnest than I 
 had yet seen him. He asked whether by receiving the 
 Gospel he should see God in a visible shape; — because, 
 he said, he had seen Sargoon the deity made visible : this 
 he affirmed with great gravity and earnestness. At night 
 I lost time and temper in disputing with the Moonshee, 
 respecting the lawfulness of putting men to death for blas- 
 phemy. He began by cavilling at the Lord’s Prayer, and 
 ridiculing it ; particularly the expression, ‘ hallowed be 
 thy name,’ — as if the name of the deity was not already 
 holy. He said that ‘ prayer was not a duty amongst the 
 Mohammedans ; that reading the Numaz was merely the 
 praise of God ; and that as when a servant, after doing 
 his master’s duty well, thought it a favorable opportunity 
 for asking a favor, so the Moslem, after doing his duty, 
 might ask of God riches or a son ; or, if he pleased, pa- 
 
244 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 tience in affliction.’ This then is Mohammedanism, to 
 murder as infidels the children of God, and to live without 
 prayer.” 
 
 ‘‘The conversation with the Pundit was more serious 
 than it has yet been : and I find that seriousness in the 
 declaration of the truths of the Gospel, is likely to have 
 more power than the clearest argument conveyed in a 
 trifling spirit. — I told him, that now he had heard the 
 word of Christ, he would not be tried at the last day by 
 the same law as the other Brahmins and Hindoos who had 
 never heard it, but in the same manner as myself and 
 other Christians ; and that I feared, therefore, that he was 
 in great danger. He said, as usual, that there were many 
 ways to God ; but I replied that there was no other Saviour 
 than Christ, because no other had bought men with his 
 blood, and suffered their punishment for them. This effec- 
 tually silenced him on that head : he then said that ‘ he 
 had a house and children, and that to preserve them he 
 must retain the favor of the world ; that he and his friends 
 despised idol-worship, but that the world would call him 
 wicked if he forsook the service of the gods.’ 
 
 “ My Pundit grieved me, by showing that he knew no 
 more of the way of salvation than before. Alas! how 
 poor and contemptible are all my efforts for God, — if efforts 
 they can be called. He observed, that ‘ there was nothing 
 express in the book about the way of salvation, or as to 
 7vhat one must do to be saved,’ — the legalist’s question in 
 every land.” 
 
 “ My Pundit observed, that I had said that forgiveness 
 would not be given for repentance only ; whereas, in the 
 third parable, in chap. xv. of St. Luke, the repentant sin- 
 ner was received at once. How could this be? For his 
 part, he would rest his hope on the parables, in preference 
 to the other statements. How strange is the reluctance 
 which men have to depend on the righteousness of another ! 
 He affirmed, that he was keeping all the commandments 
 of God. But when I charged him with worshipping the 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 245 
 
 sun at his morning devotions, he confessed it; and said 
 that it was not forbidden in the ten commandments. I 
 then read him the passages relating to the worship of the 
 host of heaven, but he could see no harm in this species of 
 worship more than in making his salam to any other supe- 
 rior. With respect to the Sabbath, he said that he had 
 always kept that day by fasting, and that all Hindoos did 
 the same : but that no reason was given in the Sh aster why 
 it was holy.’’ 
 
 Talking with the Moonshee on the old subjects, — the 
 divinity of Christ, Mohammed’s challenge, &c., — he did 
 not know of the system of the Mohammedan doctors, that 
 one passage abrogates another : but said that if I could 
 produce two commandments undeniably opposite, he would 
 throw away the book, and seek a new religion. Respect- 
 ing the promise of Mohammed, that they who die fighting 
 for Islam should certainly go to heaven, I said that my 
 objection was, that the person thus dying might be full of 
 envy, &c., — and could such a person go to God? In an- 
 swer to this, he denied that the sins of the heart were sins 
 at all : and I could say nothing to convince him that they 
 were. To refute what he had said at some former times 
 about Mussulmen not remaining in hell for ever, I applied 
 our Saviour’s parable of the servant beaten with many 
 stripes ; and asked him, ‘ if I had two servants, one of 
 whom knew my will, and the other did not, and both com- 
 mitted the same fault, — which was the more culpable?’ 
 He answered — ‘ I suppose he who knew his master’s will. ’ 
 I replied, ^ yet according to you the enlightened Mussul- 
 men are to come out of hell, while Jews and Christians, 
 for the same sin, are to remain there for ever.’ He had 
 not a word to reply ; but said he could give no answer, 
 
 ‘ uglee,’ but only ‘ nuglee,’ — contradicting it on the au- 
 thority of the Koran. He spoke of the ineffectual en- 
 deavors of men to root out Islamism, as a proof of its being 
 from God ; and objected to Christianity because there were 
 no difficulties in it ; — devotion only once a week, — prayer 
 21 * 
 
^46 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 or no prayer, just when or where we pleased, — eating with 
 or without washing, — and that, in general, k was a life of 
 carelessness with us” 
 
 Toward the middle of the month of April, another sum- 
 mons, similar to that which had carried Mr. Martyn to 
 Buxar, called him from his studies and labors at Dinapore, 
 to Monghir. Not long before he undertook this expedi- 
 tion, we find him thus expressing himself, after an exam- 
 ination into the state of his heart before God. ‘‘ My mind 
 much as usual, not tried by any violent assault of sin or 
 Satan; but the daily cause of grief and shame, and indeed 
 the root of all sin, is forgetfulness of God. I perceive not 
 in what state I have been, till I come to pray.” ‘‘ Enjoyed 
 a greater stability of faith in the divine Redeemer. May 
 he make his servant steady, brave, and vigilant in his ser- 
 vice !” Satan assaults me in various ways r some of his 
 temptations, respecting the person of my Lord, were dread- 
 fully severe : but he triumphed not a moment. I am taught 
 by these things to see what would become of me if God 
 should withdraw his mighty hand. Is there any depth 
 into which Satan would not plunge me 1” 
 
 My soul is sometimes tried with the abounding of 
 iniquity, and wounded by infidel thoughts. But my Re- 
 deemer has risen triumphant, and will not suffer his feeble 
 servant to be tempted above what I am able to bear.” 
 ^^If there is one thing that refreshes my soul above all 
 others, it is, that I shall behold the Redeemer gloriously 
 triumphant, at the winding-up of all things. O thou in- 
 jured Sovereign, how long dost thou bear this ingratitude 
 from wicked mankind 1” 
 
 ‘‘ Still permitted to find sweet refuge in the presence of 
 my Lord, from infidelity, and from the proud world, and 
 the vanities of time.” 
 
 ‘‘ In prayer had an affecting sense of my shameful in- 
 gratitude. Had I behaved thus to an earthly benefactor, 
 showing so little regard for his company, and his approba- 
 tion,— ^how should I abhor myself, and be abhorred by all : 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 247 
 
 O what a God is our God! How astonishingly rich in 
 grace, bearing all with unceasing patience, and doing 
 nothing but crowning his sinful creature with loving-kind- 
 ness and tender mercies/’ 
 
 “ This is the day on which I left Cambridge. My 
 thoughts frequently recurred, with many tender recollec- 
 tions, to that seat of my beloved brethren, and I again 
 wandered in spirit amongst the trees on the banks of the 
 Cam.” 
 
 ‘‘Employed in writing a sermon, and translating ; but 
 heavenly things become less familiar to my mind whilst I 
 am so employed without intermission. Yet the whole de- 
 sire of my heart is towards spiritual enjoyment. O when 
 shall body, soul, and spirit, be all duly employed for God !” 
 
 “ Dull and poor as my miserable soul is, and thinking 
 very little about heaven ; yet for aught else that is in this 
 world, existence is scarcely worth having. The world 
 seems as empty as air.” 
 
 On the 18th of April, Mr. Martyn commenced his 
 voyage of nearly a hundred miles to Monghir.* The fol- 
 lowing is an extract from his journal during the eight days 
 that were consumed, in thus leaving his station to marry a 
 couple, and in returning afterwards to Dinapore. 
 
 “After finishing the correction of the parables, I left 
 Dinapore to go to Monghir. Spent the evening at Patna 
 
 with Mr. G , in talking on literary subjects : but my 
 
 soul was overwhelmed with a sense of my guilt in not 
 striving to lead the conversation to something that might 
 be for his spiritual good. My general backwardness to 
 speak on spiritual subjects before the unconverted, made 
 me groan in spirit at such unfeelingness and unbelief. 
 May the remembrance of what I am made to suffer for 
 these neglects be one reason for greater zeal and love in 
 the time to come.” 
 
 * Monghir is 250 mites from Calcutta. There are now 35 com- 
 municants of the Baptist Mission. E. 
 
248 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 April 19th. — A melancholy Lord's day ! In the morn- 
 ing, at the appointed hour, I found some solemnity and 
 tenderness ; the whole desire of my soul seemed to be, that 
 all the ministers in India might be eminently holy ; and 
 that there might be no remains of that levity or indolence, 
 in any of us, which I found in myself The rest of the 
 day passed heavily ; for a hurricane of hot wind fastened 
 us on a sand-bank, for twelve hours ; while the dust was 
 suffocating, and the heat increased the sickness which was 
 produced by the tossing of the boat, and I frequently fell 
 asleep over my work. However, the more I felt tempted 
 to impatience and unhappiness, the more the Lord helped 
 me to strive against it, and to look to the fulness of Jesus 
 Christ. Several hymns, particularly 
 
 “ There is a fountain filled with blood,” 
 
 were very sweet to me. After all the acquisitions of hu* 
 man science, what is there to be compared with the knowl- 
 edge of Christ, and him crucified? — Read much of the 
 Scripture history of Saul, and the predictions in the latter 
 end of the Revelation. Read also Marshall on Sanctifi- 
 cation, Gibert’s Sermons, and Thomas a Kempis." 
 
 April 20. — A day very little better. I could scarcely 
 keep myself alive, and was much tried by evil temper. 
 
 Employed in writing to , and Mr. ; but all I did 
 
 was without energy ; the long-wished for night came at 
 last, and my feeble body found rest and restoration in 
 sleep." 
 
 April 21. — “Again the love and mercy of the Lord 
 restored me to health and spirits. Began to write a 
 sermon on walking in Christ, and found my soul benefited 
 by meditation on the subject. In the afternoon went on 
 with translations. Arrived at sunset at Monghir." 
 
 April 22. — “ Spent the day at 's. Found two or 
 
 three opportunities to speak to him about his soul. 
 
 threw out some infidel sentiments, which gave me an op- 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 249 
 
 portunity of speaking. But to none of the rest was I able 
 to say anything. Alas ! in what a state are mankind 
 everywhere; living without God in the world. Married 
 
 April 23. — After baptizing a child of ’s, I left 
 
 Monghir, and got on twenty-three miles toward Dinapore : 
 very sorrowful in mind, both from the recollection of 
 having done nothing for the perishing souls I have been 
 amongst ; and from finding myself so unqualified to write 
 on a spiritual subject, which I had undertaken. Alas ! 
 the ignorance and carnality of my miserable soul ! how 
 contemptible must it be in the sight of God. 
 
 April 24. — Still cast down at my utter inability to 
 write anything profitable on this subject ; and at my exe- 
 crable pride and ease of heart. O that I could weep in 
 the dust, with shame and sorrow, for my wickedness and 
 folly ! Yet thanks are due to the Lord for showing me, 
 in this way, how much my heart has been neglected of 
 late. I see by this, how great are the temptations of a 
 missionary to neglect his own soul. Apparently outwardly 
 employed for God, my heart has been growing more hard 
 and proud. Let me be taught that the first great business 
 on earth is to obtain the sanctification of my own soul ; so 
 shall I be rendered more capable also of performing the 
 duties of the ministry, whether amongst the Europeans or 
 heathen, in a holy and solemn manner. Oh ! how I detest 
 that levity to which I am so subject ! How cruel and un- 
 feeling is it ! — God is my witness that I would rather, from 
 this day forward, weep day and night, for the danger of 
 immortal souls. But my wickedness seems to take such 
 hold of me, that I cannot escape ; and my only refuge is 
 to commit my soul, with all its corruption, into the hands 
 of Christ, to be sanctified and saved by His almighty 
 grace. For what can I do with myself ; my heart is so 
 thoroughly corrupt that I cannot keep myself one moment 
 from sin. — Finished the Koran to-day, and considered with 
 
250 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 myself, why I rejected it as an imposition, and the reasons 
 appeared clear and convincing.’’ 
 
 ^^The budgerow struck with such violence against a 
 sand-bank, that a poor Mohammedan boy, falling with all 
 the rest, broke his arm. We did all that we could, but 
 the cries of the poor boy went through my heart. At 
 night a tremendous north-wester came on, but the Lord 
 kept us in safety.” 
 
 April 25. — ‘‘ The morning employed, with little success, 
 on the same subject. I still find it too spiritual for my 
 carnal heart. My mind distressed with doubts whether I 
 shall make the people observe the Sabbath, by causing 
 them to lie by : but on considering, that they would not 
 think it a favor, but on the contrary, a vexation, — that they 
 could not sanctify it, — and that I had not given the mangeo 
 notice before setting out, I resolved to go on ; though I 
 felt by no means easy. Before setting out again, I hope 
 to make up my mind satisfactorily on this subject.” 
 
 April 26. — ‘‘ In prayer, at the appointed hour, I felt 
 solemnity af mind, and an earnest desire that the Lord 
 would pour out a double portion of his Spirit upon us his 
 ministers in India ; that every one of us may be eminent 
 in holiness and ministerial gifts. If I were to judge for 
 myself, I should fear that God had forsaken his church ; 
 for I am most awfully deficient in the knowledge and ex- 
 perience requisite for a minister; but my dear brother 
 Corrie, thanks be to God, is a man of a better spirit : — 
 may he grow more and more in grace, and continue to be 
 an example to us f Passed the day in reading and prayer, 
 such as my prayers are. My soul struggled with corrup- 
 tion, yet I found the merit and grace of Jesus all-sufficient, 
 and all-supporting. Though my guilt seemed like moun- 
 tains, I considered it as no reason for departing from 
 Christ, but rather for clinging to him more closely. Thus 
 I got through the day, cast down, but not destroyed. The 
 account of David’s fall affected me more tenderly than ever 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 251 
 
 it did, and I could not help weeping over the fall of that 
 man of God.— Began Scott’s Essays, and was surprised 
 indeed at the originality and vigor of the sentiments and 
 language. At eight arrived at Patna.” 
 
 April 27. — ‘‘Left Patna and arrived at Dinapore. The 
 concourse of people in that great city was a solemn admo- 
 nition to me to be diligent in study and prayer. Thousands 
 of intelligent people together : — no Sabbath, — no word of 
 God, — no one to give them advice : — how inscrutable the 
 ways of God!” 
 
 Mr. Martyn had no sooner returned to Dinapore, than 
 he heard, to his sorrow and surprise, that the Ranee, 
 to whom he had sent a Testament, together with some 
 advice upon the subject of religion, — was about to despatch 
 a messenger to him, to request a letter of recommendation 
 to one of the judges, before whom she had a cause pending 
 in which her dominions were at stake. “ I felt hurt,” he 
 says, “ at considering how low a sovereign princess must 
 have fallen to make such a request ; but lost no time in 
 apprising her, that our laws were perfectly distinct from 
 the divine laws ; and that, therefore, this was no affair of 
 mine, as she seemed to suppose it to be.” 
 
 In Mr. Martyn’s schools, so much progress had now 
 been made, that it became necessary to determine what 
 books should be placed in the hands of the children who 
 could read. To give them at first the book of the parables 
 which he had prepared for their use, would, it was feared, 
 awaken suspicion in the breasts of their parents ; who had 
 already shown much jealousy respecting his designs. He 
 therefore deemed it the wisest measure to permit them to 
 use one of the Hindoo books, after having had it previously 
 read to him. It was a book which, if it did no good, 
 could, he thought, do no harm ; as it was an old Hindu wee 
 poem, on an Avatar of Vishnu, which it was impossible 
 for the children to understand. 
 
 His judgment on this question, — one of some difficulty 
 and embarrassment, — is thus given in a letter to Mr. 
 
252 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Corrie. Your schools flourish ; — blessed be God ! The 
 Dinapore school is resorted to from all quarters, even from 
 the other side of the river. The Bankipore school is also 
 going on well. I do not institute more till I see the 
 Christian books introduced. The more schools the more 
 noise, and the more inquiry; and the greater suspicion 
 of its being of a political nature. Besides, if all the 
 sc-hools were to come to a demur together, I fear theil* 
 deciding against us : but if one or two schools, with much 
 thought about it, comply with our wishes, it will be a pre- 
 cedent and example to others. I think you should not 
 dictate which of their books should be given; but only 
 reserve the power of rejecting, amongst those which they 
 propose. I bless God that you are brought to act with 
 me on a broad and cautious plan : but I trust our motto 
 will be, ‘constant, though cautious;’ — never ceasing to 
 keep our attention steadily fixed on the state of things; 
 and being swift to embrace every opportunity.” 
 
 Amidst many causes of discouragement, — from the in- 
 attention of the women who attended his expositions on 
 the Sabbath, — the general profanation of that holy day by 
 Europeans, notwithstanding his solemn and repeated re- 
 monstrances, — and the vacillating conduct of some of his 
 flock, whom he had hoped to have seen stronger and 
 bolder in their Master’s cause, — a letter from a young 
 officer, desiring, at this time, an acquaintance with Mr. 
 Martyn, on a religious account, was to him a source of 
 the most cheering delight. And yet, even before the 
 receipt of it, he could bless God, that he “ felt impregna- 
 ble to any discouragement.” “ It was not,” said he, 
 “ that I was indifferent, or that I saw some encouraging 
 circumstances ; — but I was made to reflect, that I was the 
 servant of God in these things, and that he would surely 
 bring his purposes to pass, in some way or other.” 
 
 In addition to Mr. Martyn’s studies in Sanscrit, Per- 
 sian, and Hindoostanee, we find him now sedulously em- 
 ployed in reading Leland against the deistical writers; 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 253 
 
 and thence drawing out arguments against the Koran. 
 But being fearful lest, in the midst of these pursuits, his 
 spirit should decline as to more important points, he thus 
 speaks : — ‘‘ May my soul, in prayer, never rest satisfied 
 without the enjoyment of God ! — May all my thoughts be 
 fixed on him ! May I sit so loose to every employment 
 here, that I may be able, at a moment’s warning, to take 
 my departure for another world! May I be taught to 
 remember that all other studies are merely subservient to 
 the great work of ministering holy things to immortal 
 souls 1 May the most holy works of the ministry, and 
 those which require most devotedness of soul, be the most 
 dear to my heart 1” 
 
 Mr. Martyn, whilst thus occupied, was called to the 
 decision of a practical question of greater moment and 
 difficulty, than that respecting the introduction of books 
 into the schools ; — application having been made to him 
 for baptism by one of the native women. This request, 
 as the candidate manifested no signs of penitence or faith, 
 and could by no means be made to comprehend that any 
 thing further was necessary to constitute a Christian than 
 to say the Lord’s Prayer, — he found himself compelled to 
 refuse. The party,” he writes, “ went away in great 
 distress, and I felt much for them ; but the Lord, I trust, 
 will not suffer me to listen to my own feelings, and pro- 
 fane his holy ordinances.” That this point had been a 
 matter of anxious consideration with him, we learn from 
 a letter to Mr. Corrie. Your account of a native woman 
 whom you baptized, came in season for me ; I have been 
 subjected to similar perplexities : but I think no one could 
 refuse baptism in the case you mention. The woman 
 who is now making the same petition here, promises to 
 marry, and comes frequently for instruction; but her 
 heart is not touched with any tender sense of sin, or of 
 her need of mercy. Yet if there be no scandal in her 
 life ; and she profess her belief in those points on which 
 candidates are interrogated in the baptismal service, may 
 22 
 
254 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 I lawfully refuse ? I cannot tell what to do ; but I seem 
 almost resolved not to administer the ordinance, till con- 
 vinced in my own mind of the true repentance of the 
 person. The eventual benefit will be great, if we both 
 steadily adhere to this purpose; they will see that our 
 Christians and those of the Papists are different : and will 
 be led to investigate what it is which, in our opinion, is 
 wanted.’’ The determination to reject those candidates 
 for admission into the Church of England, who were 
 manifestly ignorant of the spirit of Christianity, though 
 convinced of the truth of it, — was fully adopted by Mr. 
 Martyn, after mature consideration ; and the decision was 
 doubtless agreeable to the word of God, and to the prac- 
 tice of the primitive times. 
 
 Much time, as we have already seen, had been devoted 
 by Mr. Martyn to the translation of the Scriptures into 
 Hindoostanee ; both before and after he quitted Calcutta. 
 To these exertions for the honor and glory of God, a new 
 stimulus was added, in the month of June in this year, 
 by a proposal from the Rev. David Brown, that he would 
 engage more directly in that important work ; in which 
 he had already proceeded to the end of the Acts of the 
 Apostles : and also, that he would superintend the trans- 
 lation of the Scriptures into Persian. This proposal he 
 eagerly, yet diffidently, accepted ; — and, animated by the 
 expectation of beholding his labors brought to a successful 
 termination, he prosecuted them with a delight commen- 
 surate with his ardent diligence. 
 
 The time fled imperceptibly,” he observes, while so 
 delightfully engaged in the translations ; the days seemed 
 to have passed like a moment. Blessed be God for some 
 improvement in the languages ! May every thing be for 
 edification in the church ! What do I not owe to the 
 Lord, for permitting me to take part in a translation of his 
 word : — never did I see such wonder and wisdom and 
 love in the blessed book, as since I have been obliged to 
 study every expression; and it is a delightful reflection, 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 255 
 
 that death cannot deprive us of the pleasure of studying 
 its mysteries.” 
 
 All day on the translations : — employed a good while 
 at night in considering a difficult passage; and being 
 much enlightened respecting it, I went to bed full of 
 astonishment at the wonder of God’s word : never before 
 did I see anything of the beauty of the language and the 
 importance of the thoughts as I do now. I felt happy that 
 I should never be finally separated from the contemplation 
 of them, or of the things about which they are written. 
 Knowledge shall vanish away, but it shall be because per- 
 fection shall come. Then shall I see as I am seen, and 
 know as I am known.” 
 
 “ What a source of perpetual delight have I in the 
 precious book of God 1 O that my heart were more 
 spiritual, to keep pace with my understanding ; and that 
 I could feel as I know ! May my root and foundation be 
 deep in love, and may I be able to ' comprehend, with all 
 saints, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and 
 height, and to know the love of Christ, which passeth 
 knowledge !’ And may I be filled with all the fulness of 
 God !” He adds, in his accustomed spirit of incessant 
 watchfulness, — May the Lord,^ in mercy to my soul, save 
 me from setting up an idol of any sort in his place ; as I 
 do by preferring even a work professedly done for him, to 
 communion with him. How obstinate is the reluctance 
 of the natural heart to love God ! But, O my soul, be not 
 deceived ; thy chief work upon earth is, to obtain sancti- 
 fication, and to walk with God. ‘ To obey is better than 
 sacrifice, and to hearken than the fat of rams.’ Let me 
 learn from this, that to follow the direct injunctions of 
 God, as to my own soul, is more my duty, than to be 
 engaged in other works, under pretence of doing him 
 service.” 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MR. MARTYN RECEIVES INTELLIGENCE OF THE DEATH 
 
 OF HIS ELDEST SISTER LETTERS TO HIS FRIENDS 
 
 IS REMOVED TO CAWNPORE HEARS OF THE DEATH 
 
 OF HIS YOUNGEST SISTER DETERMINES TO VISIT 
 
 ARAHIA AND PERSIA ^LEAVES CAWNPORE FOR CALCUT- 
 TA DEPARTS FOR ARABIA. 
 
 Scarcely had Mr. Martyn girded up his loins with the 
 great and heavenly design of completing a version of the 
 Scriptures in Hindoostanee, and of superintending one in 
 the Persian tongue, — when the sovereign, wise, and 
 infinite love of his God summoned him to endure an afflic- 
 tion, more grievous than any which had befallen him since 
 those first bitter tears which he shed at the death of his 
 father. Apprehensions of the loss of his eldest sister had 
 been excited in his mind, by some expressions she herself 
 had dropped in a letter, which reached him a few weeks 
 before he received the fatal intelligence that she was no 
 more. A period of torturing suspense terminated in one 
 of inexpressible sorrow. But blessed is the man whom 
 thou chastenest, O Lord.’’ Gleams of this blessedness 
 shone forth from the cloud of that dark dispensation with 
 which Mr. Martyn was now visited. O my heart, my 
 heart,” he exclaimed, is it, can it be true, that she has 
 been lying so many months in the cold grave! Would 
 that I could always remember it, or always forget it ; — 
 but to think for a moment of other things, and then to 
 
MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 257 
 
 feel the remembrance of it coming, as if for the first time,, 
 rends my heart asunder. When I look round upon the 
 creation, and think that her eyes see it not, but have 
 closed upon it for ever, — that I lie down in my bed, but 
 that she has lain down in her grave, — oh ! is it possible t 
 I wonder to find myself still in life ; — that the same tie 
 which united us in life has not brought death at the same 
 moment to both. O great and gracious God ! what should 
 I do without thee ! But now thou art manifesting thyself 
 as the God of all consolation to my soul : — never was I so 
 near thee : — I stand on the brink, and long to take my 
 flight. There is not a thing in the world for which I 
 could wish to live, except the hope that it may please God 
 to appoint me some work. And how shall my soul ever 
 be thankful enough to thee, O thou most incomprehensibly 
 glorious Saviour Jesus ! O what hast thou done to alleviate 
 the sorrows of life ! and how great has been the mercy 
 of God towards my family, in saving us all ! How dreadful 
 would be the separation of relations in death, were it not 
 for Jesus 
 
 Mr. Martyn^s mind, under this painful deprivation, was 
 exceedingly comforted by a sure and certain hope, as it 
 respected her for whom he mourned. That delightful 
 expectation of meeting her in glory, which he has now 
 realized, was one powerful support to his heart, then over- 
 whelmed within him : for the letter which contained the 
 account of his loss, happily left him no room to doubt 
 of his sister’s eternal gain ; and that, through the grave 
 and gate of death, she had passed into the consumma- 
 tion of bliss, in the eternal and everlasting kingdom of 
 Christ. 
 
 “ The European letter,” he WTote to Mr. Brown, ‘‘ con- 
 tained the intelligence of the death of my eldest sister. 
 A few lines received from herself about three weeks ago, 
 gave me some melancholy forebodings of her danger. 
 But though the Lord thus compassionately prepared me 
 for this affliction, I hardly knew howto bear it. We were 
 22 * 
 
258 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 more united in affection to each other, than to any of our 
 relations : and now she is gone, I am left to fulfil as a 
 hireling my day, and then I shall follow her. She had 
 been many years under some conviction of her sins, but 
 not till her last illness had she sought in earnest for sal- 
 vation. Some weeks before her death, she felt the burden 
 of sin, and cried earnestly for pardon and deliverance ; 
 and continued in the diligent use of the appointed means 
 of grace. Two days before her death, — when no imme- 
 diate danger was apprehended, — my youngest sister visited 
 her; and was surprised and delighted at the change which 
 had taken place. Her convictions of sin were deep, and 
 her views clear ; her only fear was on account of her 
 own unworthiness. She asked, with many tears, whether 
 there v/as mercy for one who had been so great a sinner ; 
 — though in the eyes of the world she had been an ex- 
 emplary \vife and mother ; — and said that she believed the 
 Lord would have mercy upon her, because she knew he 
 had wrought on her mind by His Spirit. Two days after 
 this conversation, she suddenly and unexpectedly left this 
 world of wo, while her sister was visiting a dying friend 
 at a distance. This, you will tell me, is precious consola- 
 tion ; indeed, I am constrained to acknowledge, that I 
 could hardly ask for greater; for I had already parted 
 with her for ever in this life : and, in parting, all I wished 
 for, was, to hear of her being converted to God ; and, if it 
 was his will, tak^n away, in due time, from the evil to 
 come ; and brought to glory before me. Yet human 
 nature bleeds ; — her departure has left this world a fright- 
 ful blank to me ; and I feel not the smallest wish to live, 
 except there be some work assigned for me to do in the 
 church of God.’’ 
 
 Acutely as Mr. Martyn suffered, such importance did 
 he attach to those studies which had in view the manifes- 
 tation of the Gospel to regions ‘ sitting in darkness and the 
 shadow of death,’ that he omitted the prosecution of them, 
 at this period, only for a single day. It was a duty, he 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 259 
 
 thought incumbent on him, to return to his work as soon 
 as possible, however heavily his mind might be burdened ; 
 but his expressions many days afterwards declare into 
 what depths of grief he was sunk. “ My heart,’’ said he, 
 
 is still oppressed, but it is not ^ a sorrow that worketh 
 death.’ Though nature' weeps at being deprived of all 
 hopes of ever seeing this dear companion on earth, faith 
 is thereby brought the more into exercise. How sweet 
 to feel dead to all below ; to live only for eternity ; to for- 
 get the short interval that lies between us and the spiritual 
 world ; and to live always seriously . — The seriousness 
 which this sorrow produces, is indescribably precious ; O 
 that I could always retain it, when these impressions shall 
 be worn away ! — My studies have been the Arabic gram- 
 mar, and Persian ; — writing Luke for the women, and 
 dictating 1 Peter i. to my Moonshee. Finished the Gulistan 
 of Sadi, and began it again in order to mark all the 
 phrases which may be of use in the translation of the 
 -Scriptures.” 
 
 One fruit of Mr. Martyn’s prayers, and result of his 
 prudence, was, the successful introduction into his schools, 
 shortly after this, of the Sermon on the Mount ; and on 
 the 21st of September, he had the exquisite joy of hearing 
 the poor heathen boys reading the words of the Lord 
 Jesus. ‘ A wise man’s heart,’ saith Solomon, ‘ discerneth 
 both time and judgment.’ It was in this spirit of patient 
 and dependent wisdom, that Mr. Martyn had acted re- 
 specting the schools ; and it was the same rare temper of 
 mind which prevailed on him still to abstain from preach- 
 ing publicly to the natives : again and again did he burn 
 to begin his ministry in Patna ; — but again and again did 
 he feel deeply the importance of not being precipitate. 
 It was not, however, without much difficulty, that he 
 checked the ardor of his zeal. He was determined to see 
 what the institution of schools and the quiet distribution 
 of the Scriptures would effect ; and was convinced that 
 public preaching at first was incompatible with his plan 
 
260 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 of procedure ; whereas it was clear that a way would thus 
 be opened for preaching, of which object he never lost 
 sight. It was this which made him resist the solicitations 
 of those friends who would have detained him at Calcutta; 
 and this it was which now occasioned him to decline a 
 very pressing invitation from Mr. Brown, urging him to 
 take the Mission Church at the Presidency. Dinapore 
 was in the midst of the heathen ; and Dinapore, further, 
 was a scene of tranquil retirement. These two considera- 
 tions caused Mr. Martyn to refuse to comply with the 
 very earnest desire of one whom he entirely esteemed and 
 loved. If ever I am fixed at Calcutta,’’ he wrote in 
 reply, I have done with the natives ; for notwithstanding 
 previous determinations, the churches and people at Cal- 
 cutta are enough to employ twenty ministers. This is 
 one reason for my apparently unconquerable aversion to 
 being fixed there. The happiness of being near and with 
 you and your dear family, would not be a compensation for 
 this disappointment ; and having said this, I know of no 
 stronger method of expressing my dislike to the measure. 
 If God commands it, I trust I shall have grace to obey : 
 but let me beseech you all to take no step towards it ; for 
 I shall resist it as long as I can with a safe conscience.” 
 
 I am happier here in this remote land,” he wrote in 
 his journal, ‘‘where I hear so seldom of what happens in 
 the world, than in England, where there are so many 
 calls to look at ‘ the things that are seen.’ How sw^eet 
 the retirement in which I here live. The precious word 
 is now my only study, in the work of translation. Though 
 in a manner buried to the world, — neither seeing nor 
 seen by Europeans, — the time flows on here with great 
 rapidity : it seems as if life would be gone before any 
 thing is done, or even before anything is begun. I some- 
 times rejoice that I am not twenty-seven years of age ; 
 and that, unless God should order it otherwise, I may 
 double the number, in constant and successful labor. If 
 not, God has many, many more instruments at command ; 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 261 
 
 and I shall not cease from my happiness, and scarcely 
 from my work, by departing into another world. Oh ! 
 what shall separate us from the love of Christ ! Neither 
 death nor life, I am persuaded. Oh ! let me feel my 
 security, that I may be, as it were, already in heaven ; 
 that I may do all my work as the angels do theirs : and 
 oh ! let me be ready for every work ! — be ready to leave 
 this delightful solitude, or remain in it, — to go out, or go 
 in — to stay, or depart, just as the Lord shall appoint. 
 Lord, let me have no will of my own ; nor consider my 
 true happiness as depending in the smallest degree on any 
 thing that can befall my outward man ; but as consisting 
 altogether in conformity to God’s will. May I have Christ 
 here with me in this world ; not substituting imagination 
 in the place of faith ; but seeing outward things as they 
 really are, and thus obtaining a radical conviction of their 
 vanity. 
 
 Mr. Martyn’s spirits being much depressed by hi? 
 recent affliction, an invitation, or rather entreaty, so 
 strongly pressed upon him by one who had a great share 
 in his affection and esteem, — but which called, as he con- 
 ceived, for a direct and firm rejection, — could not but be 
 a matter of some disquiet to him. He had not, however, 
 the additional pain of witnessing the slightest variation in 
 his friend’s attachment ; a circumstance which does not 
 always occur on similar occasions : for the fondness even 
 of Christian friendship will sometimes suffer an interrup- 
 tion from a disagreement respecting favorite projects and 
 designs. 
 
 To this perturbation of mind, comparatively light, a very 
 severe disappointment from another quarter succeeded — a 
 disappointment intended, doubtless, like his other troubles, 
 for the augmentation of his faith. Such strong represen- 
 tations had been made, by those whose judgment he highly 
 valued, respecting the dreariness of a distant station in 
 India, and the evils of solitude ; that he had deemed it 
 agreeable to the will of God to make an overture of 
 
262 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 marriage to her, for whom time had increased, rather than 
 diminished, his affection. This overture, for reasons which 
 afterwards commended themselves to Mr. Martyn’s own 
 judgment, was now declined ; on which occasion, suffering 
 sharply as a man, but most meekly as a Christian, he said, 
 ‘‘ The Lord sanctify this ; and since this last desire of my 
 heart is also withheld, may I turn away for ever from the 
 world, and henceforth live forgetful of all but God. With 
 thee, O my God, is no disappointment. I shall never 
 have to regret that I have loved thee too well. Thou hast 
 said, ‘ delight thyself in the Lord, and he shall give thee 
 the desires of thy heart.’ ” 
 
 ‘^At first I was more grieved,” he wrote some time 
 afterwards, at the loss of my gourd, than for all the 
 perishing Ninevehs around me : but now my earthly woes 
 and earthly attachments seem to be absorbing in the vast 
 concern of communicating the Gospel to these nations. 
 After this last lesson from God, on the vanity of the crea- 
 ture, I feel desirous to be nothing, — to have nothing, — to 
 ask for nothing, but what he gives.” 
 
 Providentially for Mr. Martyn’s comfort, his thoughts 
 were much occupied, just after the receipt of this letter, 
 by the arrival of his coadjutors in the work of translation : 
 — one of them, Mirza of Benares, was well known in India 
 as an eminent Hindoostanee scholar; the other, Sabat the 
 Arabian, since but too well known, both in India and 
 England, by his rejection of that faith, which he then 
 appeared to profess in sincerity and truth. In the latter 
 of these Mr. Martyn confidently trusted that he had found 
 a Christian brother. Nor were these hopes respecting 
 Sabat’s religious character more sanguine than both in 
 reason and charity he might fairly have entertained. Of 
 his abilities a most favorable report had been made by 
 Dr. Kerr, of Madras ; who represented him as a man of 
 good family in Arabia, — as having been employed as an 
 expounder of Mohammedan law at Masulipatam, — and as 
 being well skilled in the literature of his country. With 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 263 
 
 respect to the reality of his belief in Christianity ; although 
 Mr. Martyn immediately discovered in him an unsubdued 
 Arab spirit, and witnessed, with pain, many deflections 
 from that temper and conduct which he himself so emi- 
 nently exemplified, — yet he could not but ‘ believe all 
 things, and hope all things,’ even while he continued to 
 suffer much from him, and for a length of time, with 
 unparalleled forbearance and kindness. How could he 
 allow himself to cherish any doubt, when he beheld the 
 tears he shed in prayer, and listened to the confessions he 
 made of his sinfulness, and to the professions he uttered of 
 his willingness to correct whatever was reprehensible in 
 his behavior ! No sooner had he arrived at Dinapore, 
 than he opened to Mr. Martyn the state of his mind ; 
 declaring, with seeming contrition, that the constant sin 
 he found in his heart filled him with fear. If the spirit 
 of Christ is given to believers, why,” said he, am I thus, 
 after three years’ believing ? I determine every day to 
 keep Christ crucified in sight ; but soon I forget to 
 think of him ! I can rejoice when I think of God’s love 
 in Christ : but then I am like a sheep that feeds happily 
 whilst he looks only at the pasturage before him, but when 
 he looks behind and sees the lion, he cannot eat.” ‘‘ His 
 life,” he avowed, was of no value to him ; the experience 
 he had had of the instability of the world had weaned him 
 from it ; his heart was like a looking-glass, fit for nothing 
 except to be given to the glass-maker to be moulded anew.” 
 Can we wonder, concerning one who uttered, with ap- 
 parent sincerity and much earnestness, sentiments such as 
 these, — that Mr. Martyn should observe to Mr. Brown, 
 who had sent him from Calcutta to Dinapore, that ‘^not 
 to esteem him a monument of grace, and to love him, is 
 impossible.” And truly, notwithstanding all that time 
 has since developed, who will not hesitate in attributing 
 to Sabat the guilt of a systematic and well-concerted 
 tissue of hypocrisy ; and prefer to conclude that his judg- 
 ment was at that time enlightened, and his heart in some 
 
264 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 measure impressed with a sense of what he believed? 
 Very soon, indeed, was Mr. Martyn called to rejoice over 
 this Mohammedan convert with great fear and trembling ; 
 for scarcely had he reached Dinapore, when the violence 
 of his temper began to manifest itself. The first Sunday 
 after his arrival, on coming to church, conceiving that all 
 due respect was not shown him, he would not wait till 
 service began, but abruptly left the church and returned 
 home; yet on Mr. Martyn’s expostulations on his turn- 
 ing his back upon the house of God, on account of an 
 insult which was unintended, — he instantly confessed, 
 with seeming humiliation, that he had two dispositions ; the 
 one, his old one, which was a soldier’s, and the other a 
 Christian’s. 
 
 Many other signs of an unhumbled spirit in Sabat gave 
 rise to differences which were singularly distressing to a 
 man of such meekness as Mr. Martyn. Even before the 
 conclusion of that year, which when Sabat* entered under 
 Mr. Martyn’s roof was drawing to a close, he was so grieved 
 at his spirit, that he could find relief only in prayer for him. 
 Yet, however disquieted he might, and could not but be, at 
 what he was called hourly to witness, in one brought into 
 such near contact with him, and bearing the name of a 
 Christian brother, — his own mind nevertheless enjoyed a 
 large measure of ^ that perfect peace’ in which those are 
 kept whose minds are stayed on God. He was continually 
 
 rejoicing in the solid ground of Jesus’ imputed right- 
 eousness;” the greatness, the magnificence, the wisdom 
 of which, filled his mind ; he was continually thinking, 
 ‘‘ Oh ! how is every hour lost that is not spent in the love 
 and contemplation of God, my God. O send out thy light 
 and thy truth, that I may live always sincerely, always 
 affectionately, towards Thee !” To live without sin, I 
 cannot expect in this world ; but to desire to live without 
 it, may be the experience of every moment.” And he 
 
 * See Appendix G. 
 
HENRY MARTY^N. 
 
 265 
 
 closed the year like him who, at the end of a psalm of 
 holy and joyful aspirations, exclaims, ‘ I have gone astray 
 like a lost sheep,^ in the following strain of brokenness of 
 spirit and abasement of soul ; I seem to myself permitted 
 to exist only through the inconceivable compassion of God. 
 When I think of my shameful incapacity for the ministry, 
 arising from my own neglect, I see reason to tremble, 
 though I cannot weep. I feel willing to be a neglected 
 outcast, unfit to be made useful to others, provided my dear 
 brethren are prosperous in their ministry.’’ 
 
 In the midst of various weighty employments, and of 
 much tribulation, Mr. Martyn passed into the year 1808 ; 
 on the first day of which, he thus reverted to his past life : 
 Few or no changes have occurred in the course of the 
 last year. I have been more settled than for many years 
 past. The events which have taken place, most nearly 
 interesting to myself, are my sister’s death, and my disap- 
 pointment about L ; — on both these afflictions I have 
 
 seen love inscribed, and that is enough. What I think I 
 want, it is better still to want : but I am often wearied 
 with this world of wo. I set my aflections on the crea- 
 ture, and am then torn from it ; and from various other 
 causes, particularly the prevalence of sin in my heart, I 
 am often so full of melancholy, that I hardly know what 
 to do for relief Sometimes I say, ‘ O that I had wings 
 like a dove, then would I flee away and be at rest ;’ at 
 other times, in my sorrow about the creature, I have no 
 wish left for my heavenly rest. It is the grace and favor 
 of God that have saved me hitherto : my ignorance, way- 
 wardness and wickedness would long since have plunged 
 me into misery ; but there seems to be a mighty exertion 
 of mercy and grace upon my sinful nature, every day, to 
 keep me from perishing at last. My attainments in the 
 divine life, in this last year, seem to be none at all ; I 
 appear, on the contrary, to be more self-willed and perverse ; 
 and more like many of my countrymen, in arrogance and 
 a domineering spirit over the natives. The Lord save me 
 23 
 
266 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 from my wickedness! Henceforth let my soul/ humbly 
 depending upon the grace of Christ, perfect holiness in the 
 fear of God, and show towards all, whether Europeans or 
 natives, the mind that was in Christ Jesus.’' 
 
 In the beginning of this year, Mr. Martyn’s situation at 
 Dinapore was rendered far less agreeable than heretofore, 
 — much as he loved retirement, — by the removal of the 
 only family with whom he lived upon terms of Christian 
 intimacy ; a family for whom he had no common affection ; 
 to whom he had been the means of first imparting serious 
 impressions; whom he had exhorted, watched over, and 
 prayed for, and whom he unceasingly followed with his 
 intercessions, when he could no longer reach them with 
 his exhortations. ‘‘ The departure of he writes, 
 
 seemed to leave me without human comfort; my regard 
 for them has increased very much of late; I have seen 
 marks of grace more evidently. It is painful to be de- 
 prived of them just at this time : yet the Lord knoweth 
 them that are his, and will keep them, through faith, unto 
 eternal salvation." The following is an extract of a letter 
 to Mrs. on this occasion. 
 
 Dinapore, January 8, 1808. 
 
 “Your departure has left the Arab and me in such 
 gloom, that I cannot yet find in his society a supply for 
 yours. I still continue, therefore, one of your camp- 
 followers; often every day accompanying you in my 
 thoughts as you travel along ; and I now despatch some 
 china-paper, to overtake you, and assure you once more 
 of my good wishes and prayers. After leaving you on 
 Monday, I crossed the river and solemnized the nuptials 
 
 of , without the intervention of anything untoward. 
 
 Next morning, at Patna, I walked out in hopes of having 
 one more sight of the battalion and my friends in it. But 
 some of the slow-moving baggage hackeries only, in the 
 rear, showed where you had passed. The nearness of 
 your second day's camp was a strong temptation to add 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 267 
 
 myself again to your number; and it might have been 
 easily accomplished; but the pain of repeated farewells 
 deterred me from going. So I set my face towards 
 Dinapore again ; and now, as often as I traverse, in my 
 evening walk, the spot where the pale grass marks your 
 former abode ; and as often as I brins out the Koran from 
 the book-room, without taking up the Hebrew for you, I 
 join with Sabat in regretting that ‘the faithful is gone.’ 
 But only continue to deserve the name, my dear friends, 
 and we shall sorrow the less at your departure. Cleave 
 to him, in duty, — in affection, — in bearing his reproach, — 
 and we are never separated. If I am so happy as to hear 
 good tidings of you, and that you grow in faith and love, 
 I shall be contented. Friendship must not selfishly 
 repine at a separation appointed by God. Yesterday a 
 
 letter came from P , who says that trials are awaiting 
 
 you ; — that your gay friends will oppose, Sdc. — but enter 
 Burhampore armed with strong resolutions, and depending 
 on the grace that is in Christ Jesus, and you will stand 
 firm.” 
 
 This separation affected him the more sensibly, because 
 it was not in every family at that station that he met with 
 a kind, much less a cordial, reception. “ I called,” says 
 he, “on the 15th of January, on one of the Dinapore 
 families ; and felt my pride rise at the uncivil manner in 
 which I was received. I was disposed at first to deter- 
 mine never to visit the house again, but I remembered the 
 words, — ‘ Overcome evil with good.’ ” 
 
 So much as Mr. Martyn was concerned for the salvation 
 of the heathen, it will readily be surmised that the state of 
 the Native Christians, — sunk as they were into a condition 
 of equal ignorance and wickedness with the heathen, — 
 would excite his peculiar sympathy and anxiety. Their 
 lamentable case was never forgotten by him. At the 
 commencement of the present year, especially, it lay so 
 near his heart, that he resolved to ascertain what might 
 
268 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 be effected at Patna in behalf of those wretched people, 
 who ^ had a name to live, but were dead.' Without loss 
 of time, therefore, he made an offer to the Roman Catho- 
 lics there, of preaching to them on Sundays ; — but the 
 proposal was rejected. Had it been accepted, he pro- 
 posed to have made it the ground-work of a more exten- 
 sive publication of the Gospel to the inhabitants at large. 
 
 Millions perishing," he said, much affected at the 
 reflection, in the neighborhood of one who can preach 
 the Gospel to them ! how wonderful ! I trust the Lord will 
 soon open a great and effectual door. Ohl for faith, 
 zeal, courage, love !" 
 
 In consequence of the state of the weather at this 
 season of the year, the public celebration of divine service 
 on the Sabbath was suspended for a considerable time at 
 Dinapore ; a circumstance as painful to Mr. Martyn, as it 
 'was pleasing to the careless and worldly part of his con- 
 gregation. Upon the serious inconvenience, and yet more 
 serious detriment to the spiritual interest, of his flock, 
 arising from the want of a church, he had already pre- 
 sented a memorial to the governor-general ; and orders to 
 provide a proper place for public worship had been issued : 
 nothing effectual, however, was yet done ; and Mr. Mar- 
 tyn's love for the souls intrusted to him, not allowing him 
 to bear the thought of their being scattered for a length 
 of time, as sheep without a shepherd ; — he came to the 
 resolution of opening his own house, as a place in which 
 the people might assemble in this emergency. About the 
 middle of February he writes, As many of the European 
 regiment as were effective were accommodated under my 
 roof; — and, praised be God, we had the public ordinances 
 once more. My text was from Isaiah, iv. 5. ‘ The Lord 
 
 will create upon every dwelling-place of Mount Zion, and 
 upon her assemblies, a cloud and smoke by day, and 
 the shining of a flaming fire by night : for upon all the 
 glory shall be a defence.' In the afternoon, I waited for 
 the women, but not one came : perhaps, by some mistake, 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 269 
 
 notice had not been given them. At the hospital, and 
 with the men at night, I was engaged, as usual, in prayer : 
 — my soul panted after the living God, but it remained 
 tied and bound with corruption. I felt as if I could have 
 given the world to be brought to be alone with God ; and 
 the promise that ‘ this is the will of God, even our sancti- 
 fication,’ — was the right hand that upheld me while I 
 followed after him. When low in spirits, through an un- 
 willingness to take up the cross, I found myself more 
 resigned in endeavoring to realize the thought which had 
 often composed me in my trials on board the ship, — 
 namely, that I was born to suffer ; — that suffering is my 
 appointed daily portion ; let this reconcile me to every 
 thing ! To have a will of my own, not agreeable to God’s, 
 is a most tremendous wickedness. I own it is so, for a 
 few moments : but. Lord, write it on my heart ! In perfect 
 meekness and resignation, let me take whatever befalls me 
 in the path of duty, and never dare to think of being 
 dissatisfied.” 
 
 As far as it respected Mr. Martyn’s health, a temporary 
 interruption of his ministerial duty would have proved a 
 favorable occurrence : he was beginning again to suffer 
 from some severe pains in the chest, which first attacked 
 him in the autumn of the preceding year. Desiring to be 
 as a flame of fire in the service of his God, and panting 
 for the full employment of every day,” the early morning, 
 as well as the closing evening, found him engaged in his 
 delightful labors ; but he perceived that the body could 
 not keep pace with the soul, in this career of unceasing 
 activity : ‘‘ the earthly tabernacle weighed down the spirit, 
 whilst musing upon many things,” and compelled him, for 
 a while at least, to moderate the vehemence of these exer- 
 tions. By the month of March, however, the great work, 
 for which myriads in the ages yet to come will gratefully 
 remember and revere the name of Martyn , — the Version 
 of the New Testament in Hindoostanee , — was brought to a 
 completion ; nor, — if we consider how much time he had 
 23 * 
 
270 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 spent upon it, ever since he arrived at Calcutta, and how 
 laboriously he prosecuted it, after Mr. Brown had sum- 
 moned him to direct all his efforts to that end, — can it be 
 affirmed that it was hurried to a conclusion with a heed-=. 
 less and blameable precipitancy. 
 
 ’Twas not the hasty product of a day ; 
 
 But the well-ripened fruit of wise delay.” 
 
 ^‘It is a real refreshment to my spirit,’’ Mr. Martyn re- 
 marks to Mr. Corrie, just at the moment of sending off 
 the first page of the Testament to Calcutta, in the be- 
 ginning of April, ^‘to take up my pen to write to you. 
 Such a week of labor I believe I never passed, not ex- 
 cepting even the last week before going into the Senate- 
 House. I have read and corrected the manuscript copies 
 of my Hindoostanee Testament so often that my eyes 
 ache. The heat is terrible, often at 98° ; the nights in- 
 supportable.” Such was his energy in a climate tending 
 to beguile him into ease and indolence; so entirely 
 
 whatsoever he had to do,” did he ‘Mo it with all his 
 might.” 
 
 Throughout the remainder of the year 1808, till his re- 
 moval to Cawnpore, Mr. Martyn’s life flowed on in the 
 same tranquil course of usefulness and uniformity. He 
 was occupied in revising the sheets of the Hindoostanee 
 version of the New Testament, which he had completed ; — 
 he superintended the Persian translation confided to Sa- 
 bat; — he gave himself to the study of Arabic, that he 
 might be qualified to take part with Sabat in another 
 version of the New Testament into that tongue ; — he con- 
 tinued also to minister to the Europeans and the natives 
 at the hospital ; — and he daily received the more religious 
 part of his flock at his own house whilst his health per- 
 mitted. A serious attack, similar to that which he ex- 
 perienced on his journey to Portsmouth, occurred towards 
 the end of the summer, and was productive of the follow* 
 
HEiVRY MARTYN. 
 
 271 
 
 ing effusion, bearing a preeminent impress of the Spirit 
 of God. No one, surely, ever touched a string more in 
 unison with the harps of angels and saints in light, than 
 he who wrote thus on the evening of a day expected to 
 be his last. 
 
 ‘'I little thought to have had my faith brought to a 
 trial so soon. This morning, while getting up, I found a 
 pain in the centre of my body, which increased to such a 
 degree, that fever and vertigo came on, and I fainted. 
 The dreadful sensation was like what I once felt in Eng- 
 land, but by no means so violent or long continued ; — as 
 then, also, I was alone. After recovering my senses, and 
 lying in pain which made me almost breathless, I turned 
 my thoughts to God; and oh! praise to his grace and 
 love, I felt no fear ; — but I prayed 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 unfinished. By mean« 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 be- 
 ginning, all that God had done in creation, providence, 
 and grace, for my soul. O God of love, how shall I praise 
 Thee! happiness, bliss forever, lies before me. Thou 
 hast brought me upon this stage of life to see what sin 
 and misery are; — myself, alas! most 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 receive honor, but to ascribe praise. Yes ! 
 
272 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 I shall then have power to express my feelings ; I shall 
 then, without intermission, see and love ; and no cloud of 
 sorrow overcast my mind. I shall then sing, in worthy, 
 everlasting strains, the praises of that divine Redeemer, 
 whose works of love now reach beyond my conception.” 
 From the even tenor of his life at this period, it cannot 
 be expected that incidents of a very striking nature should 
 arise ; yet the description which he himself 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. 
 
 16, 1808. 
 
 This day I have received yours of the 8th : like the 
 rest of your letters, it set 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 leisure. In consequence of 
 reading the Koran with Sabat, audibly, and drinking no 
 wine, the slander has gone forth amongst the Christians 
 at Patna, — that the Dinapore Padre has turned Mus- 
 sulman.” 
 
 “ 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, — 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 determines not to give me the smallest 
 help in correcting the Hindoostanee.” 
 
 To the Rev. D. Brown'" 
 
HENR^ MARTYN. 
 
 273 
 
 “ May 9th, 1808. 
 
 ‘^Sabat, having one of his head-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 Mat- 
 thew. Notwithstanding the vexation and disappointment 
 Sabat has occasioned me, I have enjoyed a more peace- 
 able 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 scarcely 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 ; 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 exem- 
 plary in her attention, shed many tears : I have some- 
 times endeavored to speak to her, but she declines con- 
 versation. 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. Yes- 
 terday, for the first time, I baptized a child in Hindoos- 
 tanee. My Europeans, this week, have not 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. Carrie.” 
 
 “ May 31, 1808. 
 
 Yours of the 24th instant arrived to-day, and relieved 
 me from much anxiety respecting your own health. Still 
 you do not say whether the Hindoostanee sheets have ar- 
 rived. I do not wonder at your inquiring about the Per- 
 sian. To-day we finish comparing St. Matthew with the 
 Greek, if it may be called a comparison ; for, partly owing 
 to the errors of the scribe, rendering whole verses unin- 
 telligible ; — and partly on account of SabaPs anxiety to 
 preserve the rhythm, which often requires the change of a 
 
274 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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'" 
 
 “ June 6, 1808. 
 
 To-day we have completed the Persian of St. Mat- 
 thew, and to-morrow it is to be sent off to be printed. 
 Sabat desired me to kneel down to bless God for the 
 happy event, and we joined in praise of ‘ the F ather 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 * earth- 
 quakes in divers places,’ when I felt my chair shake under 
 me ; then some 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 at 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 announc- 
 ing the translation, as printed at the expense of the British 
 and Foreign Bible Society, I highly approve ; 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.” 
 
 To the Rev. D. Brown." 
 
 Banhvpore^ June 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 ; 
 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. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 275 
 
 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 without works, and that little sins are as bad as great 
 ones,’ and that thus I tempted them to become great sin- 
 ners. A young civilian, who some time ago came to me 
 desiring 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 ridicule. 
 Thus, through evil report, we go on. Oh ! my brother ! 
 how happy I feel, that all have not forsaken 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 recommend 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 theological discussion 
 by requesting me to explain necessity and free-will ; I in- 
 stantly pleaded ignorance. He gave his own opinion ; on 
 which I asked him for his proofs of the religion of Mo- 
 hammed. His first argument was the eloquence of the 
 Koran, but he at last acknowledged that this was insuffi- 
 cient. I then brought forward a passage or two in the 
 Koran, containing sentiments 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 
 
 copiousness, 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 
 
2718 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 Christian religion ; I began with the atonement, the 
 divinity of Christ, the corruption of human nature, the 
 necessity of regeneration, and a holy life. He seems to 
 wish to acquire information, but discovers no spiritual de- 
 sire after the truth. So much for this Mussulman lord : 
 now for Antichrist in another shape, — the Popish Padre, 
 Julius Caesar. I asked him whether the doctrine I had 
 heard from the Franciscan brethren in America was his ; 
 — Extra Ecclesiam Eomanam salus non esse potest 7 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 con- 
 versation 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 eager- 
 ness than even if the letter had been from Europe. I re- 
 joice 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 Hin- 
 doostanee : it wants but little correction, 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, through indolence, is small — is to keep 
 my heart rightly disposed to minister to my congrega- 
 tion 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 
 
h£:nry martyn . 277 
 
 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 my 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 which he replied in 
 French, that he lamented he could not speak their lan- 
 guage, but should remember them in his prayers, and 
 spoke of them as brethren in Christ. When he came into 
 the barracks, the Catholics crowded round him by hun- 
 dreds, 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 Protest- 
 ants 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, com- 
 pared with the formidable agents of the devil with whom 
 we have to combat here ! There are 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 Jesus, whom we serve, we will. I 
 was rather apprehensive yesterday that my 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 wick- 
 edness of the church of Rome, in forbidding the use of the 
 Scriptures.” 
 
 To the Rev. D. Corrie." 
 
 24 
 
27S 
 
 MEMOm OF 
 
 ^^July 11, 1808. 
 
 loquacious Brahmin having interrupted us 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 Ali’s I 
 met with a very agreeable Armenian Padre, named Mar- 
 tin, 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 malicious : 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 hos- 
 pital, the greater number kept themselves aloof My so- 
 ciety, this week, has occasioned me great trouble ; one man 
 was the occasion of it : still his professions, and earnest- 
 ness not to be excluded, make it difficult to know how to 
 deal with him. Certainly there is infinitely better disci- 
 pline in the Romish church than in ours, and if ever I 
 were to be the pastor of native Christians, I should en- 
 deavor to govern with equal strictness. My female hear- 
 ers 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 the Rev. D. Corrie.'' 
 
 July 18, 1808. 
 
 I mentioned to you that I had spoken very plainly to 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 279 
 
 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 con- 
 tinuing to teach them. He may spare his sarcastic re- 
 marks, 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 argued with great vehemence : when I found that he 
 had nothing to say in defence of the adoration of the Vir- 
 gin Mary and the saints, I solemnly charged him and his 
 church with the sin of idolatry ; — he started, and said that 
 if I had uttered such a sentiment in Italy, I should have 
 been burned. He certainly seems sincere; and at one 
 time he lifted up his eyes, and prayed that I might not 
 convert him, and that God would never suffer the Protest- 
 ant religion to enter Italy. His main argument against 
 me was, the disorder and impiety prevalent among the 
 Protestants, whom he had 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 F rench one called ^ The 
 Crimes of the Popes which he desired to have ; but re- 
 collected 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. What a debt of love and praise do we owe! 
 
280 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Yesterday I attempted to examine the women who attend- 
 ed (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 in- 
 censed, and went away, saying to Joseph, ‘ We know a 
 great deal more than your Padre himself.’ The services 
 much weakened me, after my late attack.” 
 
 To the Rev. D. Corrie"' 
 
 August 8, 1808. 
 
 I called on the Commander-in-chief here on Saturday 
 morning, and was received very graciously. I told him 
 that it was a duty we owed to God as a nation, 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 religion ; 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 became 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 hos- 
 pital ; one is prepared to die : blessed sight ! The Per- 
 sian of St. Mark is to be sent to-morrow, and five chapters 
 of Luke, corrected. There is no news from down the 
 stream ; but always glad tidings for us from the wwld 
 above.” 
 
 To the Rev. D. Corrie.'' 
 
 August 15, 1808. 
 
 Glad am I that we are likely to meet so soon ; may it 
 be ‘ in the fulness of the blessing of the Gospel of peace.’ 
 Last week Mohammed Babir, the Mohammedan lord, and 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 281 
 
 Padre Martino, spent three days here. Little, I am sorry 
 to say, has been done. Sabat did not appear to adv'an- 
 tage : instead of speaking about the Gospel 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 religion ; but Mohammed 
 confessed himself an infidel, and required proof for the 
 truth of any religion. Sabat 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 
 much wrath and pride. With all Babir’s gentleness, he 
 rebuked him in his turn, and told him that the Persians 
 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 im- 
 posing that you would think St. Peter 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 1 When shall the 
 churches of Asia recover their ancient glory? You will 
 see the Nabob and Padre soon, I hope. Last. Tuesday 
 we sent off the Persian of St. Mark,’’ 
 
 To the Rev. D. Carried 
 
 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 than that, if we can obtain 
 anything for you by our prayers. Corrie will bring you 
 but a poor account of my congregation : I am much neg- 
 lected on all sides, and without the work of translation Ii 
 should fear that my presence in India were useless.” 
 
 “ To the Rev. D. Brown.'" 
 
 24 * 
 
282 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 October, 1808. 
 
 I deserve your reproof for not having written to you 
 oftener ; and I am pained at the anxiety I have thought- 
 lessly occasioned you. I console myself, however, 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 seldom recover it till 
 Tuesday. A few days ago I was attacked 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 in- 
 deed : my mind seems as vigorous as ever, but my deli- 
 cate 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 to night. It seems a providential circum- 
 stance, that the work at present assigned me is that of 
 translation ; for had I gone through the villages, preach- 
 ing, as my intention 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 have lost 
 many by death, others are raised up in their room ; one 
 officer, a Lieutenant, is also given to me ; and he is not 
 only a brother beloved, but a constant companion and 
 nurse ; so you must feel no apprehension that I should be 
 left alone in sickness ; neither 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 chil- 
 dren 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 
 constant prayer, for ourselves, and for the church.” 
 
 To his Sister. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 283 
 
 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 fore- 
 saw, is one of the most painful and lamentable conse- 
 quences of my withdrawing from them ; but it is unavoid- 
 able if I wish to prolong my life. My danger is from the 
 lungs; though none of you seem to apprehend 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 24, 1808. 
 
 You mention a letter enclosed, but none came. The 
 intelligence, however, intended to be conveyed by it, met 
 my delighted eyes. Thomason* is coming ! This is good. 
 Praise be to the Lord of the harvest, for sending out la- 
 borers! Behold how the prayers of the society at Cal- 
 cutta 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 dispersed during my absence. Un- 
 certain when I may come amongst them, they seldom 
 come at all, except the ten or twelve who meet one 
 another. My morning congregation increases as the cold 
 weather advances, and yesterday there seemed to be a 
 considerable impression. I spoke in a low tone of voice, 
 and therefore did not feel much fatigue ; — after the Hin- 
 doostanee service I was very weak ; but at night tolerably 
 strong again. On the whole, my expectations of life re- 
 
 See Appendix H 
 
284 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 turn. May the days thus prolonged be entirely His who 
 continues them ! and may my work not only move on de- 
 lightfully, but with a more devout and serious spirit! 
 You are too many happy brethren together 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 variation 
 in the life of Mr. Martyn, until the month of April ; when 
 he was removed from his station at Dinapore, to Cawn- 
 pore. The following extracts are selected from the con- 
 tinuation of his correspondence with Mr. Corrie, in the 
 interval which passed between the end of the year 1808, 
 and the termination of his ministry at Dinapore. 
 
 January 10, 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 formality 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 corrupt 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 
 Martyn! But God be thanked that a start now and then 
 interrupts the slumber. I hope to be up and about my 
 Master’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 conspiracy 
 to lull us to sleep in the lap of pleasure. While we pass 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 285 
 
 over this enchanted ground, call, brother, ever and anon, 
 and ask, ‘ Is all well V We are shepherds keeping watch 
 over our flocks by night : if we fall asleep, what is to be- 
 come of them !” 
 
 January 30, 1809. 
 
 I have been seized with a sudden desire for reading 
 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 extremely simple. My 
 present labor is to find a reason for there being but two 
 tenses in Hebrew. I have read, or rather devoured, the 
 first four chapters in 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 awake in the night. One thing I have found, 
 which is, that there are but two tenses in English and 
 in Persian. I will go: — in that sentence the principal 
 verb is I will, which is the present tense. I would have 
 gone : — the principal verb is, I woidd or I willed. Should, 
 also, is a preterite, namely, shalled from to shall. An- 
 other thing I observe is, that both in Persian and in 
 English the preterite is formed in the same way, viz. by 
 the addition of ed; porsum, porsedum, — ask, asked. I 
 should not wonder if, in the Saxon, or some other ancient 
 northern language, from which the English comes, it is 
 askedum. Thus you have a letter of philology. If I 
 make any other great discoveries, and have nothing better 
 to write about, I shall take the liberty of communicating 
 them. Scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter : 
 — but this, I trust, is not my maxim. ‘ Whatsoever ye do, 
 do all to the glory of God,^ is much better,’’ 
 
 February 13, 1809. 
 
 Last Friday, we had the happiness and honor of finish- 
 ing the four Gospels in Persian. The same evening I 
 made some discovery respecting the Hebrew verb; but 
 
286 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 
 order 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 orderly 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 both Hebrew and Arabic, with increasing pleasure 
 and satisfaction.'^ 
 
 Felruary 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 circumstances 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 discovery succeeded another, in 
 Hebrew, Arabic, and Greek, so rapidly, that I was some- 
 times almost in ecstasy ; — 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 this study of myself, but it 
 turns to me, and draws me 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, while 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 knowledge, it shall vanish away — but ‘ Charity 
 never faileth.^ 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 287 
 
 have found myself so strong. The state of the air affects 
 me more than anything 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 Xlth 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 interest- 
 ing 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 1’ 
 
 March 3, 1809. 
 
 I did not write to you last week, because I was em- 
 ployed night and day, on Monday and Tuesday, with 
 Sabat, in correcting some sheets for the press. I begin 
 my letter, now, immediately on receiving yours of last 
 week. The account of your complaint, as you may sup- 
 pose, grieves me exceedingly ; not because I think that I 
 shall outlive you, but because your useful labors must be re- 
 duced 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 1 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 health, 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 ; — 
 
288 
 
 MEMOIR OE 
 
 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 occasional.” 
 
 March 13, 1809. 
 
 How delightful is it to me, at this moment, to com- 
 mune 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 I, among the staff,* was invited to a public dejeune 
 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 !” 
 
 At Cawnpore the hand of friendship and hospitality was 
 stretched out to welcome Mr. Martyn ; and to afford him 
 those attentions which, after a wearisome and perilous 
 journey, were not only most gratifying to his feelings, but 
 almost indispensable to the preservation of his life. From 
 the pen of the ladyt 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 following account of his arrival at 
 the new station to which he was appointed. 
 
 “ The month of April, in the upper provinces of Hin- 
 doostan, is one of the most dreadful months for travelling 
 throughout the year ; indeed, no European, at that time, 
 can remove from place to place, but at the hazard of his 
 
 Mr. Martyn was Military Chaplain. 
 
 t Mrs. Sherwood. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 289 
 
 life. But Mr. Martyn had that anxiety to be in the work 
 which his heavenly Father had given him to do, that, 
 notwithstanding the violent heat, he travelled from Chunar 
 to Cawnpore, the space of about four hundred miles. At 
 that time, as I well remember, the air was as hot and dry 
 as that which I 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 travelled, 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 own 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 im- 
 measurable extent, covered with burning sand. The place 
 itself I have not yet been able to see, nor shall, I suppose, 
 till the rains : at present it is involved in a thick cloud of 
 dust. So much for exordium. Let me take up my narra- 
 tive from Mirzupore, from whence I wrote you a note. I 
 reached Tarra about noon. Next day, at noon, reached 
 
 Allahabad, and was hospitably received by Mr. G ; at 
 
 night dined with him at the Judge’s, and met twenty-six 
 people. From Allahabad to Cawnpore how shall I de- 
 scribe what I suffered ! Two days and two nights was I 
 travelling without intermission. 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 we were six hours coming the last six hos 
 25 
 
290 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 (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 arrival, 
 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 arrangement. 
 He was several hundred miles farther distant from Cal- 
 cutta; and was far more widely separated 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 con- 
 veniences, much less the decencies and solemnities of 
 public worship, were visible. We find him, soon after he 
 arrived there, preaching to a thousand soldiers, drawn up 
 in a hollow 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 indolent formality, and already weakened in 
 health by former ministrations. He complained, — if in- 
 deed 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 ma- 
 terially to undermine his constitution. No time, indeed, 
 was lost by him, on this occasion, as before, in remon- 
 strating upon this subject; and his remonstrances pro- 
 cured 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 accomplishment. 
 
 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 291 
 
 of the station, at eleven o’clock; attendance at the hos- 
 pital; and in the evening, that part of his work which 
 was the most grateful and refreshing to his spirit, though 
 performed under the pressure of much 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 elucidation of 
 difficulties 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 ascertained 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 inutility after he had established them. 
 
 These abstruse speculations, together with duties of a 
 more important character, one of the chief of which was 
 the superintendence of the Arabic translation of the New 
 Testament, now begun and carried on conjointly with a 
 new Persian version, were soon interrupted, 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. Concerning the latter he thus writes to 
 Mr. Simeon, lamenting the inconvenience to which he 
 was exposed by such distant demands upon his services. 
 
 Just after the last ship from Europe arrived, and I was 
 hourly 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,. 
 
292 
 
 JMEMOIR OF 
 
 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 government of 
 the Nabob. Oppression and insecurity of property seem 
 to have stripped the country of its inhabitants. From 
 Manicpore, where I left the river, to Pretabjush, 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 continued wood, and that, in 
 consequence of the rains, was often lost. Indeed, all the 
 lowlands were under water, which, added to the circum- 
 stance of travelling by night, made the journey by no 
 means a pleasant one. Being detained one Lord’s day at 
 the place, I assembled all the officers and company at the 
 commanding officer’s bungalow, and preached the Gospel 
 to them. There were five and thirty officers, besides ladies, 
 and other Europeans. You will have an idea of the Na- 
 bob’s country, 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 palan- 
 quin. 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. Accordingly, 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 coun- 
 tenances of my satellites with great satisfaction.” 
 
 Not long after Mr. Martyn’s return from this expedi- 
 
HENRY >L4RTYN. 
 
 293 
 
 tion, letters from Europe reached Cawnpore, bringing 
 intelligence of a similar nature with that which had over- 
 whelmed him in the preceding year. They contained 
 intimations of the dangerous illness of that sister who had 
 been so instrumental to his conversion to the Lord; and 
 they w'ere 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 possibility 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 I parted from you in the ex- 
 pectation 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 
 mean time, received a more alarming account, can 
 write no more to my sister. Even now something tells 
 me that I have been addressing one in the world of spirits. 
 But yet 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 can- 
 not. I must wait till your next ; and in the mean time I 
 will continue to pray for you, that the God of all consola- 
 tion 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 leaving 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 bar- 
 ren desert, what a howling wilderness, does this world 
 appear. But for the 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 
 25 ,^ 
 
294 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 me. Your letter, though it contains much afflictive intelli- 
 gence, contains also much that demands my gratitude. In 
 the midst of judgment He remembers mercy. He has 
 been pleased to take away my last remaining sister (for I 
 have no hopes of my poor S ’s recover}'); he has re- 
 
 duced 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 good- 
 ness of you, his instrument.’^ 
 
 The close of the year 1809 was distinguished by the 
 commencement of Mr. Martyn’s first public ministration 
 among the heathen. A crowd of mendicants,, whom, to 
 prevent perpetual interruptions, he had appointed to meet 
 on a stated day, for the distribution of alms, frequently 
 assembled before his house in immense numbers, present- 
 ing an affecting spectacle of extreme wretchedness. To 
 this congregation he determined to preach the word of the 
 Saviour 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 
 translation of Genesis, read the first verse, and explained 
 it word by word. In the beginning, when there was 
 nothing, 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, and stars. 
 Therefore how should the sun be God ; or the moon be 
 God ? He created every thing on earth, therefore Ganges 
 also; therefore how should Ganges be God? Neither are 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 295 
 
 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, will 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.’^ Such was the substance of his first dis- 
 course, the whole of which was preached sentence by 
 sentence, for at the end of each clause there followed ap- 
 plause and explanatory 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 beggars, 
 in number about five hundred, on the work of the first and 
 second day, when all he said was received with great ap- 
 plause. And on the last day of the year he again ad- 
 dressed them, their numbers amounting to above five hun- 
 dred and fifty ; taking for his subject, the works of the 
 third and fourth day. ‘^I did not,” he remarks, ‘^succeed 
 so well as before ; I suppose because I had more confi- 
 dence in myself, and less in the Lord. I fear they did not 
 understand me well ; but the few sentences that were 
 clear, they applauded. 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 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. Ganges, 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 tread- 
 ing on tender ground, and was almost disposed to blame 
 myself for imprudence. I thought that, amidst the silence 
 
296 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 these remarks produced, I heard hisses and groans ; — but 
 a few Mohammedans applauded.” 
 
 With these new labors of love the year 1809 terminated. 
 
 Ten years have elapsed,” observed Mr. Martyn on the 
 last day of it, ‘‘ since I was first called of God to the fel- 
 lowship of the Gospel ; and ten times greater than ever 
 ought to be my gratitude to the tender mercy of my God, 
 for all that he has done for me. The ways of wisdom 
 appear more sweet and reasonable than ever, and the 
 world more insipid and vexatious. The chief thing I have 
 to mourn over, is my want of more power and fervor in 
 secret prayer, especially 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 remainder of his residence 
 at Cawnpore. The satisfaction of seeing their numbers 
 increase, sometimes amounting to as many as eight hun- 
 dred persons, was exceeded by the more solid gratification 
 of witnessing in them a growing attention to the instruc- 
 tions he delivered. By degrees tumultuous applauses were 
 succeeded 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 en- 
 couraging. An extraordinary impression was made on his 
 Mohammedan and pagan auditory, whom he had been 
 addressing on the awful subject of the destruction of 
 Sodom and Gomorrah, with equal simplicity 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 ! — ^you 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 297 
 
 are nevertheless 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 hiM, 
 beheld the flames in safety, you also, sitting on the hills of 
 heaven, shall behold the ruins of the world without fear.’ ” 
 
 In the midst of these exertions, an attack of pain in the 
 chest, of a severer kind than he had before experienced, 
 forced upon Mr. Martyn’s mind the unwelcome 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. read your letter of 6th July, 1809, 
 
 cautioning me against over-exertion, with the confidence 
 of one who had nothing to fear. This was only three 
 weeks ago. Since the last Lord’s day your kind advice 
 was brought home to my mind, accompanied with painful 
 regret that I had not paid more attention 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 53rd 
 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 ministration to the natives might be in the 
 week : but I wish to attach the idea of holiness to the 
 Sunday. My evening congregation, on Sunday, is at- 
 tended by twice as many as in the week-day ; so how can 
 I let this go ?” 
 
298 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 With what extreme reluctance Mr. Martyn spared 
 himself,” we see from the above letter. The progress 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 hun- 
 dreds of voices were heard invoking for him 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 administered the rite 
 of baptism to an old Hindoo woman, ‘‘ 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 complaint, and 
 affording himself a little ease and relaxation ; at others, 
 renewing it, either by private conversation or public ser- 
 vices; providentially for the preservation of the remnant 
 of his health, in the beginning of June, his friend and 
 brother, Mr. Corrie, arrived 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. Martyn 
 in his drooping condition, part of the duty, leaving 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 about your health. If it 
 could make you live longer, I would give up any child I 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 299 
 
 have, and myself into the bargain. — May it please the 
 adorable unsearchable Being 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 conversion 
 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 sufficiently praise him. 
 I see no cause to wish for anything but the advancement 
 of that knowledge by which there is some accession of 
 praise to his holy and blessed name. We 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 command- 
 ments. 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 
 Saviour’s blood.” But this sunshine was soon overclouded ; 
 and shortly after he again relapsed. 
 
 Such was the sinking state of his health, notwithstand- 
 ing the seasonable and important assistance derived 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 adoption of the latter expedient 
 he had once determined upon, conceiving that his com- 
 plaint might arise from relaxation, and that a bracing air 
 would in that case be beneficial. Nor was this resolution 
 
300 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 formed without a reluctant struggle in his mind: India 
 held out to him the most powerful attractions; 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 tenderness, 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 remained 
 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 between 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, concerning the Persian 
 version of the New Testament. 
 
 The version which had first been made in that language, 
 two Gospels of which had been printed, had been con- 
 sidered, on further inspection and more mature consider- 
 ation, to require too many amendments to admit of its 
 immediate publication. It was accordingly returned to 
 the translator, who, under the superintendence of Mr. 
 Martyn, bestowed so much pains and attention upon it, as 
 to render it a new, and it was hoped, a sound and accu- 
 rate work. By those, however, who were considered 
 competent judges at Calcutta, it was still deemed unfit for 
 general circulation, inasmuch as it was thought to abound 
 in Arabic idioms, and to be written in a style, pleasing 
 indeed to the learned, but not sufficiently level to the 
 capacities of the mass of common readers. 
 
 At this decision, Mr. Martyn was as keenly disappointed 
 as he was delighted at the complete success of the Hin- 
 doostanee version, which, on the minutest and most rigorous 
 revision was pronounced to be idiomatic and plain. But 
 
HENRY BIARTYN. 
 
 301 
 
 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 Persian 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 communicated 
 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 you go? I con- 
 fess 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 phoenix build her odoriferous 
 nest, but in the land prophetically called ‘ 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 wings of 
 a dove, covered with silver, and her feathers like yellow 
 gold.’ ” 
 
 Towards the end of September, therefore, Mr. Martyn 
 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 summary 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 preached to his own countrymen, — amidst the 
 26 
 
302 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 suppressed, that he, who had been the cause of its 
 erection, and who now ministered in it for the first time, 
 in the beauty of holiness, would minister there no more. 
 They beheld him as standing on the verge of the eternal 
 world, and ready to take a splendid flight. ^ My father, 
 my father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof,’ 
 were the sentiments with which many gazed on him. One 
 of his auditors on this solemn occasion,* 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 proceeded, 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 society of many who sincerely loved and admired him. 
 He left us with little hope of seeing him again, until, by 
 the mercy of our Saviour, we meet with him in our 
 Father’s house.” 
 
 On the first day of October, the day following the de- 
 livery 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. Martyn departed from Cawnpore 
 for Mr. Brown’s residence 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 mo- 
 ment occurred, 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 
 
 Mrs. Sherwood. 
 
HENHY MARTYN. 
 
 303 
 
 to look me in the face, and sorrow appeared in the 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, earnestly and affection- 
 ately, if ever I did in my life.” This painful interview 
 was succeeded by another, not uninteresting, with Anto- 
 nio, a monk, at Boglipore. ‘‘We sat in the evening,” 
 Mr. Martyn writes, “under a shed on the banks of the 
 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 ves- 
 pers, and terminated the controversy. The church is in 
 his garden ; a very neat building, hung round with some 
 little mean engravings. A light was burning in the chan- 
 cel, 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 that 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 Gospels in 
 Persian, very poorly done. I rejoiced unfeignedly at see- 
 ing so much done, though he followeth not with us. The 
 Lord bless his labors ; and while he water eth 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 coun- 
 tenance and enfeebled frame, knew not whether most to 
 mourn or to rejoice, Mr. Martyn partook largely of that 
 pure and refined happiness, which is peculiar to one of his 
 vivid feelings and heavenly affections, in that society 
 where they that “ fear the Lord speak often one to an- 
 other, and the Lord hearkens and hears, and a book of 
 remembrance is written before him for them that fear the 
 
304 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 interview 
 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 knowl- 
 edge. 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 competent judge ; but as far as 
 I do understand it, the object is far too grand for one 
 short life, and much beyond his feeble and exhausted 
 frame. Feeble it is indeed! how fallen and changed t 
 His complaint lies in his lungs, and appears to be an in- 
 cipient consumption. But let us hope that the sea-air may 
 revive him ; and that change of place and pursuit may do 
 him essential 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, that the 
 indulgence of conversation with his friends soon produced 
 a recurrence of those symptoms which had occasioned 
 alarm at Cawnpore ; and yet, notwithstanding this, he 
 preached every Sabbath at Calcutta, with one exception 
 only, until he finally left it. Animated with the zeal of 
 that Apostle who at Troas continued his discourse until 
 midnight, he could not refrain from lifting up his voice, 
 weak as it was, in divine warnings and invitations, in a 
 place where something seemed to intimate that he should 
 never again declare God’s judgments against the impeni- 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Thomason. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 305 
 
 tent, 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 befal me there, but assured that an ever-faithful 
 God and Saviour will be with me in all places whitherso- 
 ever I 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 leav- 
 ing 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 Society, 
 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 hav- 
 ing, for the last time, addressed the inhabitants of Calcutta, 
 from the text of Scripture, “ But one thing is needful,” — 
 Mr. Martyn departed forever from those shores, on which 
 he had fondly and fully purposed to spend all his days. 
 
 For a brief analysis of this sermon, see Appendix I. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MR. MARTYN LEAVES BENGAL FOR SHIRAZ OCCURRENCES 
 
 DURING HIS JOURNEY ARRIVES AT SHIRAZ COM- 
 MENCES A NEW TRANSLATION^ DISCUSSIONS WITH THE 
 
 PERSIAN MOOLLAHS. 
 
 In the former periods of Mr. Martyn’s life, we have seen 
 in him the successful candidate for academical distinc- 
 tions, — the faithful and laborious Pastor, — the self-denying 
 and devoted Missionary, — the indefatigable Translator of 
 the Scriptures, — the Preacher of the Gospel to the hea- 
 then. In this, the last and shortest portion of the con- 
 tracted term of his earthly existence, we are called to con- 
 template his character in a new and yet more striking 
 light, and shall have occasion to admire in him the erect 
 and courageous spirit of the Christian confessor. 
 
 The occurrences which transpired between his depart- 
 ure from the mouth of the Hoogley and his arrival at Shi- 
 raz, occupy a period of five months. They are partly re- 
 corded in the following extracts from his private journal, 
 and partly related in a letter to Mr. Corrie, from Shiraz. 
 
 Bay of Bengal, January, 1811. 
 
 I took a passage in the ship Ahmoody, Captain Kin- 
 say, bound to Bombay. One of my fellow-passengers 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 
 
MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 307 
 
 indeed in having such a companion, and I found his com- 
 pany the most agreeable circumstance in my voyage.’^ 
 
 “ Our Captain was a pupil of Swartz, of whom he com- 
 municated many interesting particulars. — Swartz, with 
 Kolhoff and Joenicke, kept a school for half-caste children, 
 about a mile and a half from Tanjore; but went every 
 night to the Tanjore church, to meet about sixty or sev- 
 enty of the king’s regiment, who assembled 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. 
 Joenicke taught geography ; Kolhoff, writing and arithme- 
 tic. — 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 suffi- 
 cient protection, for (said the Captain) Swartz w^as con- 
 sidered 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 water ; 
 — a sight that would have been beautiful, had I been 
 well.” 
 
 On the 18th, we came in sight of the Island of Cey- 
 lon.” 
 
 In my Hebrew researches I scarcely ever felt so dis- 
 couraged. All the knowledge I thought I had acquired 
 became uncertain, and consequently I was unhappy. 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 cabin 
 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?’^ 
 
308 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 was 
 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 Catechist, who, 
 however, spoke too little English to give me any informa- 
 tion.” 
 
 Jan. 23. — ‘‘ Sailed from Ceylon across the Gulf of Ma- 
 naar, where there is generally a swell, but which we found 
 smooth. Having passed Cape Comorin, and come into 
 smooth water, I proposed having family prayer every night 
 in the cabin ; — and no objection was made. Spoke a ship 
 to-day which was conveying pilgrims from Manilla to 
 Jidda. The first object discernible under the high moun- 
 tains at Cape Comorin was a church. As we passed 
 along the shore, churches appeared 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 incumbrances of Popery, are moving towards the 
 kingdom of heaven.” 
 
 Jan. 26. — ‘‘Anchored off Allepie. Learned that there 
 were here about two hundred Christians, Portuguese, be- 
 sides the fishermen cast. The church was a temporary 
 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 Saviour have been inexpressibly consolatory. 
 How glorious the privilege that we exist but in him; with- 
 out him I lose the principle of life, and am left to the 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 309 
 
 power of native corruption, — a rotten branch, a dead 
 thing, that none can make use of. This mass of corrupt 
 tion, when it meets the Lord, changes its nature, and lives 
 throughout, and is regarded by God as a member of 
 Christ’s body. This is my bliss, that Christ is all. Up- 
 held 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 at Mr. 
 
 ^’s, to whom I had letters of recommendation. The 
 
 next day I went up, with Mr. Elphinstone and others, to 
 Old Goa, where we were shown the convents and churches. 
 At the convent of the Nuns, observing 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 W‘6f^ 
 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 chas- 
 tised : that there were some prisoners there under examin- 
 ation at that time. No one dares resist the officers of 
 the Inquisition ; the moment they touch a man, he sur- 
 renders himself. Colonel , who is writing an account 
 
 of the Portuguese in this settlement, told me that the pop- 
 ulation of the Portuguese territory was two hundred and 
 sixty thousand ; of whom two hundred thousand, he did 
 not doubt, were Christians.” 
 
 Feb. 17. — Sunday. — A tempestuous sea throwing us 
 all into disorder, we had no service.” 
 
 Feb. 18. — ‘‘Anchored at Bombay. — This day I finished 
 the thirtieth year of my unprofitable life ; the age at which 
 
310 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 David Brainerd finished his course. I am now at the age 
 at which the Saviour 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. Hith- 
 erto I have made my youth and insignificance an excuse 
 for sloth and imbecility : now let me have a character, 
 and act boldly for God.^^ 
 
 Feb. 19. — ‘‘Went on shore. Waited on the Governor, 
 and was kindly accommodated with a room at the Govern- 
 ment-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 : this he promised to do. At Bom- 
 bay,* there are twenty thousand Christians ; at Salsette, 
 twenty-one thousand ; and at this place there are forty- 
 one thousand, using the Mahratta language.” 
 
 Feb. 22. — “ At the Courier press I saw the Malayalim 
 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 religion. 
 He spoke Persian, and seemed familiar with Arabic. He 
 began with saying that no one religion had more evi- 
 dences of its truth than another, for that all the miracles of 
 the respective founders depended upon tradition. This I 
 denied. He acknowledged that the writer of the Zenda- 
 vesta was not contemporary with Zoroaster. After dis- 
 puting 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 V 
 The last piece of information he had from the Armenians. 
 I asked him ‘ Whether he had any thoughts of changing 
 
 ^ For an account of the Missions at Bombay, see Appendix J. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 811 
 
 his religion?’ He replied, with a contemptuous smile, 
 ‘ No : every man is safe in his own religion.’ I asked 
 him, ‘ What sinners must do to obtain pardon V ‘ Repent,’ 
 said he. I asked, ^ Would repentance satisfy a creditor 
 or a judge V ‘ Why, is it not said in the Gospel,’ rejoined 
 he, ‘that we must repent?’ I replied, ‘It cannot 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 replied, “In the atonement of 
 Christ.’ ‘All this,’ said he, ‘I know: but so the Mo- 
 hammedans say, that Hosyn was an atonement for the 
 sins of men.’ He then began to criticise the translations 
 which he saw on the table, and wondered 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 Chris- 
 tian Knowledge Society’s Arabic Testament, but could 
 gather no meaning at all from it.” 
 
 March 6. — “ Feeroz called again, and gave me some 
 account of his own people. He said that they considered 
 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 Pahla- 
 vee, 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 Eng- 
 lish ; 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 inter- 
 rupted 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 Kahn, Lord Wellesley’s Envoy to Persia, 
 called. I should not have thought him worth arguing 
 with, he seemed such a boy : but his fluency in Persian 
 pleased me so much, that I was glad to hear him speak ; 
 he was, besides, familiar with all the arguments the 
 Mouluwees usually bring forward; moreover, I thought 
 
312 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 that 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 Zoroaster, and were called 
 Mobid ; that four times a month they assembled, viz. the 
 6th, 13th, 20th, and 27th ; strangers were not allowed to 
 see the sacred fire, though,’ said the old man signifi- 
 cantly, ‘ I think there is nothing unlawful in it, but the 
 common people do.’ He began to profess himself a Deist. 
 ‘In our religion,’ said he, ‘they believe 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; 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 weigh 
 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 inattentive; 
 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 I used to read to 
 a sick man below, and two or three others would come 
 to hear.” 
 
 April 14. — Easter Sunday. — “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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 313 
 
 which I assisted as interpreter. The Sultan was a few 
 miles off, fighting with the Wechabites.” 
 
 April 24. — Went with our English party, two Arme- 
 nians, 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 warped out of the 
 Cove, and got under weigh. 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 to see two 
 Armenian young men ; who informed me of the conver- 
 sion of Mirza Ishmael, son of Shehool Islam, of Isfahan, 
 who was gone to Bombay for baptism.” 
 
 May 7.—^^ Finished a work, on which I have been en- 
 gaged for a fortnight; — a new arrangement of all the 
 Hebrew roots, classing them according to the last letter, 
 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 travelling in Persia, which 
 Mr. Martyn had to combat. So intense was the heat of 
 the sun in the month of June, as to endanger his life ; a 
 peril of which he had no previous apprehension : though 
 with so great an object before him, he would have been 
 27 
 
314 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 warranted in knowingly incurring 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 travelling, and the remainder in accom- 
 plishing his journey. The whole period is embraced, and 
 the very interesting events of it are recorded, in the fol- 
 lowing 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 new situa- 
 tion. Mrs. and her sister, both Armenians, spoke 
 
 nothing but Persian at table ; the servants and children 
 the same. One day a party of Armenian ladies came to 
 kiss my hand, — the usual mark of respect shown to their 
 own priests ; I was engaged at the time, but they begged to 
 have it explained that they had not been deficient in their 
 duty. The Armenian priest was as dull as they usually 
 are. He sent for me, one Sunday evening, to come to 
 church ; though he 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 respect 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 315 
 
 own seaty and then sat by my side. After the usual 
 salutations and inquiries, the calean (or hookah) was in- 
 troduced ; then coffee in china cups placed within silver 
 ones, then calean, then some rose-water syrup, then calean. 
 As there were long intervals, often, in which nought was 
 heard but the gurgling of the calean, I looked round with 
 some anxiety for something to discourse upon, and ob- 
 serving 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 sur- 
 prise that Europeans, who were so skilful 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 several 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 a good man, who was found fault with for 
 having an image before him while 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 
 magnificence, regard for learning, &.c. This man, I 
 afterwards found, is, like most of the other grandees of the 
 east, a murderer. He was appointed to the Government 
 of Bushire, in the place of Arab Shekh, in v/hose 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 together : they did so, a signal was given,, 
 and a band of ruffians murdered them all immediately. 
 The Governor rode off with a body of troops to their vib- 
 
316 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 lages, 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 him- 
 self from putting his seal to it, pretending he had lost it : 
 this saved him. All the conspirators were discovered and 
 put to death ; he escaped 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 described 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 vegetate undisturbed ever since I left India, — 
 that I am sitting on a Persian carpet, in a room without 
 tables or chairs, — and that I bury my hand in the pillau, 
 without waiting 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, 
 ft consisted chiefly of mules, with a few horses. I wished 
 to have a mule, but the muleteer favored me with his own 
 poney ; 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 3ir 
 
 that saluted our ears had a ludicrous effect. At last, after 
 some jostling, mutual recriminations, and recalcitrating of 
 the steeds, we each found our places, and moved out of 
 the gate of the city in good order. The Resident ac- 
 companied 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 pre- 
 vented me from indulging my own reflections. I felt a 
 little melancholy, 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 sud- 
 den 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 trans- 
 lation : — 
 
 ‘ Think not that e’er my heart could dwell 
 Contented far from thee : 
 
 How can the fresh-caught nightingale 
 Enjoy tranquillity ?. 
 
 O then forsake thy friend for nought 
 That slanderous tongues can say : 
 
 The heart that fixeth where it ought, 
 
 No power can rend away.’ 
 
 “ Thus far my journey was agreeable : now for miseries. 
 At sunrise we came to our ground at Ahmede, six para- 
 sangs, and pitched our little tent under a tree : it 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 strength 
 fast; at last it became quite intolerable. I wrapped my- 
 self up in a blanket and all 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 evaporated as when the skin was exposed : 
 27 * 
 
818 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 one of my companions followed my example, and found 
 the benefit of it. But the thermometer still rising, and 
 the moisture of the body being quite exhausted, I grew 
 restless, and thought I should have lost my senses. The 
 thermometer at last stood at 126°: in this state I com- 
 posed myself, and concluded that though I might hold out 
 
 a day or two, death was inevitable. Capt. , who sat 
 
 it out, continued to tell the hour and height of the ther- 
 mometer : and with what pleasure did we hear of its sink- 
 ing to 120°, 118°, &/C. At last the fierce sun retired, 
 and I crept out, more dead than alive. It was then a dif- 
 ficulty 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 hour’s sleep, and set out, the muleteer leading my 
 horse, and Zachariah, my servant, an Armenian, of Isfa- 
 han, doing all in his power to encourage me. The cool 
 air of the night restored me wonderfully, so that I arrived 
 at our next munzel with no other derangement than that 
 occasioned by want of sleep. Expecting another such day 
 as the former, we began to make preparation the instant 
 we arrived on the ground. I got a tattie made of the 
 branches of the date-tree, and a Persian peasant to water 
 it ; 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 wrapped round my 
 head and body, muffling up the lower part in clothes. 
 How could I but be grateful to a gracious Providence, for 
 giving me so simple a defence against what, I am per- 
 suaded, would have destroyed my life that day. We took 
 care not to go without nourishment, as we had done ; the 
 neighboring village supplied us with curds and milk. At 
 sunset, rising up to go out, a scorpion fell upon my clothes ; 
 not seeing where it fell, I did not know what it was ; but 
 
 Capt. pointing it out, gave the alarm, and I struck it 
 
 qff, and he killed it. The night before we found a black 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 319 
 
 scorpion in our tent : this made us rather 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 arived at the foot of the moun- 
 tains, at a place where we seemed to have discovered one 
 of nature’s ulcers. A strong suffocating smell of naphtha 
 announced something more than ordinary foul in the 
 neighborhood. We saw a river ; — what flowed in it, it 
 seemed difficult to say, whether it were water or green 
 oil ; it scarcely moved, and the stones which it laved, it 
 left of a greyish color, as if its foul touch had given them 
 the leprosy. Our place of encampment this day was a 
 grove of date-trees, where the atmosphere, 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 without a wet towel round my face and neck. This 
 night, for the first time, we began to ascend the moun- 
 tains. The road often passed so close to the edge of the 
 tremendous precipices, that one false step of the horse 
 would have plunged his rider into inevitable destruction. 
 In such circumstances, I found it useless to attempt guid- 
 ing 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 nothing to mark the road, 
 W 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 
 
320 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 every thing around me. At last we emerged super as ad 
 auras not on the top of a mountain, to go down again, — 
 but to a plain or upper world At the pass, where a cleft 
 in the mountain admitted us into the plain, was a station 
 of Rahdars. While they were examining the muleteer’s 
 passports, &/C. time was given for the rest of the cafila to 
 come up, and I got a little sleep for a few minutes. We 
 rode briskly over the plain, breathing a purer air, and 
 soon came in sight of a fair edifice, built by the king of 
 the country for the refreshment of pilgrims. In this cara- 
 vansera we took up our abode for the day. It was more 
 calculated for eastern than European travellers, having no 
 means of keeping out of the air and light. We found the 
 thermometer at 110°. At the passes we met a man trav- 
 elling down to Bushire with a load of ice, which he will- 
 ingly disposed of to us. 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 the 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 retreat 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 descended 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 
 continued 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, and the 
 pulse violent. Through the day it was again too hot to 
 sleep; though the place we occupied was a sort of sum- 
 mer-house, in a garden of cypress trees, exceedingly well 
 fitted up with mats and colored glass. Had the cafifa 
 
 * To open air. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 321 
 
 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 I awoke twenty times to dip my burn- 
 ing 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. — “Half way up the Peergan mountain we 
 found a caravansera. There being no village in the 
 neighborhood, we had brought supplies from Carzeroon. 
 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 re-^ 
 markable 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 morning, 
 and continued to ascend. The hours we were permitted 
 to rest, the musquitoes had effectually prevented me from 
 using ; so that I never felt more miserable and disordered ; 
 the cold was very severe ; for fear of falling off, from sleep 
 and numbness, I walked 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 valley was one green field, in 
 which large herds of cattle were browsing. The tempera- 
 ture was about that of spring in England. Here a few 
 hours’ sleep recovered me, in some degree, from the stu- 
 pidity in which I had been for some days. I awoke with 
 a light heart, and said, ‘ He knoweth our frame, and re- 
 membereth we are dust. He redeemeth our life from de- 
 
322 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 struction, and crowneth us with loving-kindness and ten- 
 der mercies. He maketh us to lie down in the green pas- 
 tures, 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 parasangs, 
 where we passed the day. At night set out upon our last 
 march for Shiraz.* Sleepiness, my old companion and 
 enemy, again overtook me. I was in perpetual danger of 
 falling off my horse, till at last I pushed on to a considera- 
 ble distance beyond the cafila, planted my back against a 
 wall, and slept I know not how long ; till the good mu- 
 leteer 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 Jaffier Ali Khan’s.” 
 
 Arrived at the celebrated seat of Persian literature, Mr. 
 Martyn, having ascertained the general correctness of the 
 opinion delivered at Calcutta, respecting the translation of 
 the New Testament by Sabat, immediately commenced 
 another version in the Persian language. An able and 
 willing assistant, in this arduous and important work, pre- 
 sented himself in the person of Mirza Seid Ali Khan, the 
 brother-in-law of his host, Jaffier Ali Khan. His coadju- 
 tor, he soon discovered, was one of a numerous and in- 
 creasing religious community, whose tenets, — if that term 
 be not inapplicable to anything of so fluctuating and in- 
 definite a nature as their sentiments, — appear to consist in 
 a refined mysticism of the most latitudinarian complexion ; 
 a quality, be it remembered, entirely opposite to the exclu- 
 sive character and inflexible spirit of Christianity; and 
 which, pervading, as it does so completely,, the system of 
 
 For a description of Shiraz see Appendix K. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 323 
 
 Soofeism,* sufficiently accounts for its toleration 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 con- 
 sequence, to whom Mr. Martyn had letters of recommen- 
 dation, he found a singular urbanity of manners, united to a 
 temper of more solid and substantial excellence, — a kind- 
 ness 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 entire absence of bigotry and prejudice ; 
 and on all occasions he was ready to invite, rather than 
 decline, the freest interchange of opinion on religious topics. 
 
 The work for which Mr. Martyn had come to Shiraz, 
 was commenced on the 17th of June, little more than a 
 week after his reaching that city. It was preceded by a 
 very pleasing interview with two priests of the Mohamme- 
 dan faith, of which we have this account. — ‘‘In the even- 
 ing, Seid Ali came, with two Moollahs, disciples of his 
 uncle Mirza Ibraheem, and with them I had a very long 
 and temperate discussion. One of them read the begin- 
 ning of St. John, in the Arabic, and inquired very particu- 
 larly 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 misappre- 
 hension is removed when people come to an explanation.^ 
 
 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 pro- 
 ceed 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 
 
 See Appendix L. 
 
324 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 always 
 planning something for our amusement, we passed the day 
 at a house built half-way up one of the hills which sur- 
 round the town. A little rivulet, issuing from the rock, 
 fertilizes a few yards of ground, which bear, in conse- 
 quence, a cypress or two, sweet-briar, jessamine, and 
 pinks. Here, instead of a quiet retreat, we found a num- 
 ber of noisy, idle fellows, who were gambling all day, and 
 as loquacious as the men who occupy an alehouse bench. 
 The Persians have certainly a most passionate regard for 
 water ; I suppose because they have so little of it. There 
 was nothing at all in this place worth climbing so high for, 
 except the little rivulet.” 
 
 June 22. — The prince’s secretary, who is considered 
 to be the best prose-writer in Shiraz, called upon us. One 
 of his friends wanted to talk about Soofeism. They be- 
 lieve, they know not what. It is mere vanity that makes 
 them profess this mysticism. He thought to excite my 
 wonder by telling me, that I, and every created thing, was 
 God. I asked how this was consistent with his religion ? 
 He then mentioned the words from the Koran, ‘ God can 
 be with another thing only by pervading it.’ Either from 
 curiosity, or to amuse themselves at an Indian’s expense, 
 they called in an Indian Moonshee, who had come with us 
 from Bengal, and requested him to recite some of his 
 poetry. Thus I had an opportunity of witnessing this 
 exhibition of Eastern folly. After a few modest apologies, 
 the Indian grew bold, and struck off a few stanzas. The 
 Persians affected to admire them, though it was easy to see 
 that they were laughing at his pronunciation and foreign 
 idiom. However) they condescended to recite, in their 
 turn, a line or two of their own composition ; and before 
 they went away, wrote down a stanza or two of the In- 
 dian’s, to signify that they were worth preserving.” 
 
 June 26. — Two young men from the college, full of 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 325 
 
 zeal and logic, came this morning, to try me with hard 
 questions, such as. Whether being be one or two ? What 
 is the state and form of disembodied spirits? and other 
 foolish and unlearned questions, ministering strife ; on all 
 which I declined wasting my 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 heed 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 miracles of Christ than they had for those of Moham- 
 med ; which is tradition.’ ‘ Softly,’ said I, ‘ you will be 
 pleased to observe a difference between your books and 
 ours. When, by tradition, we have reached our several 
 books, our narrators were eye-witnesses; yours are not, 
 nor nearly so.’ In consequence of the interruption these 
 lads gave me, for they talked a long time with great intem- 
 perance, 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 between good and evil, — 
 that it was only apparent. I observed that this difference, 
 if only apparent, was the cause of a great deal of real 
 misery. 
 
 “ While correcting the fifth of John, he was not a little 
 surprised at finding such an account as that of an angel 
 coming down and troubling the waters. When he found 
 that I had no way of explaining it, but was obliged to un- 
 derstand it literally, he laughed, as if saying, ‘there are 
 other fools in the world besides Mohammedans.’ I tried 
 to lessen his contempt and incredulity by saying, that 
 ‘ the first inquiry was, — is the book from God ?’ ‘ Oh ! to 
 
 be sure ;’ said he, ‘ it is written in the Bible ; we must 
 believe it.’ I asked him ‘whether there was anything 
 28 
 
326 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 ob- 
 served, ^ that all natural agents might be called the angels 
 of God/ ^ This,’ said he, ‘ was consonant to their opin- 
 ions ; 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, ” 
 
 June 27. — ‘‘Before I had taken my breakfast, the 
 younger of the youths came, and forced me into a con- 
 versation. 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 Mouluwee, whom 
 he brought to introduce to me, took up the cudgels against 
 them, and said that ‘ the onus prohandi rested with them, 
 not with me/ Zachariah told me this morning, that I 
 was the town talk ; that it was asserted that I was come 
 to Shiraz to be a Mussulman, and should then bring five 
 thousand men to Shiraz, under pretence of making them 
 Mussulmen, but in reality to take the city.” 
 
 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?’ ” 
 
 June 30. — Sunday. — “ Preached to the Ambassador’s 
 suite on the ‘ faithful saying.’ In the evening baptized 
 his child.” 
 
 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 began 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 Edomites meant the 
 Europeans, and that Mount Sion was in Europe. After- 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 327 
 
 wards 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 salvation by another was im- 
 possible. ‘ You talk,’ said he, ‘ of the atonement, but I 
 do not see it anywhere in the Gospels.’ After citing two 
 passages from the Gospels, 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 diffi- 
 culty in that,’ said he. ‘ You do not observe the insti- 
 tutions 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 V ‘ Christ,’ said I, 
 ‘ foresaw 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 hearing 
 about the sufferings of Christ,’ and he wept while men- 
 tioning it.” 
 
 The 3d of July was distinguished by a conversation kept 
 up between Mr. Martyn and two Moollahs, one of whom 
 displayed a very different spirit from that which had 
 actuated those ministers of the Mohammedan religion who 
 first visited him. ‘‘ The Jewish Moollah Abdoolghunee, 
 with Moollah Abulhasan,” he writes, came prepared for a 
 stiff disputation, and accordingly the altercation was most 
 violent. Jaffier Ali Khan, and Mirza Seid Ali were 
 present, with many others. The Jew began by asking, 
 whether we believed that Jesus suffered ? I referred him 
 to the 9th of Daniel, ^ Messiah shall be cut off, but not for 
 himself.’ I 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 reasons 
 for believing that Mohammed was foretold in the Old: 
 
328 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 religious Khaleefs, 
 just like Mohammed. I explained to the Mussulman, 
 that they were not for religious affairs, but worldly, — de- 
 ciding causes, &c. ; — and that religious services were con- 
 fined to one tribe. 
 
 He proceeded to Deut. xviii, 18, ‘ The Lord will 
 raise from among their brethren.’ ^ Brethren,’ he said, 
 ‘ must mean some other 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 Mohammed was.’ 
 I replied — ‘ that the words of God, ‘ from among their 
 hretlirm^ Moses explained by those, ‘ from among thee 
 and that this excludes the possibility of Mohammed being 
 meant.’ After they were gone, I found. Lev. xxv. 46, 
 which supplies a complete answer. In reply to the ob- 
 jection that Moses and Christ were not alike, I said, 
 ‘ that in respect of the prophetic office, there was such 
 a likeness as did not exist between any other two proph- 
 ets; — in that each brought a new law, and each was a 
 Mediator.^ 
 
 The Jews next read the sixty-first of Isaiah, and 
 commented. I then read the same chapter, and observed, 
 that Christ had cited one of the passages for himself. 
 
 ‘ The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,’ &c. This they at- 
 tended to, because Christ had said so ; but as for Peter’s 
 appropriating the passage in Deuteronomy to Christ (Acts 
 iii.) they made no account of it. So ignorant are they of 
 the nature of revelation. 
 
 ‘‘ When we were separating, the Mooli ah Abulhasan 
 gravely asked me, whether, if I saw proof of Mohammed’s 
 miracles, I would believe, and act as one who sought the 
 truth V I told him, ' I wished for nothing but the truth.’ 
 He then said, ‘ we must have an umpire.’ ‘ But where,* 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 329 
 
 said I, ‘ shall we find an impartial one ‘ He must be a 
 Jew/ said one. ^Well then/ added another, Met Ab- 
 doolghunee 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 pro- 
 posal, and said to the Jew, ‘ You impartial ! As a Mo- 
 hammedan, you ought to speak well of Christ ; but it is 
 easy to see that, like your l)rethren, you hate Jesus as 
 bitterly as ever.’ He was quite alarmed at this charge 
 before the Mohammedans, by whom he has long been con- 
 sidered 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, possibly, 
 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, 1 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. Abulkasan 
 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 Mohammedanism, 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 xiv. he 
 came to know what it was, and staid the whole morning', 
 asking an infinity of questions. He showed himself ex- 
 tremely 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 concluded by saying, ‘ he 
 must come to me every day ; and either make me a Mus- 
 sulman, or become himself a Christian.’ ” 
 
 The progress of the translation gave rise to the following 
 
 28 ^ 
 
330 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 affecting discourse between Seid Ali and Mr. Martyn* 
 
 Seid Ali, while perusing the twelfth of John, observed, — 
 ‘ How he loved these twelve persons !’ ‘ 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 religion, and am still 
 undecided. Till now, I never had an opportunity of con- 
 versing with those of another religion : the English I have 
 met in Persia have generally been soldiers, or men occu- 
 pied with the world.’ To some remarks I made about the 
 necessity of having the mind made up upon such a subject, 
 considering the shortness of our stay here, he seemed cor- 
 dially 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 differ- 
 ent 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 the 
 Lord of glory, is ever pitiable to a Christian mind : but 
 how much more are the Jews entitled to compassion, 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 account of their condition at Shiraz, 
 without sighing over the depth of their temporal and spirit- 
 ual degradation \ 
 
 July 5. — “ The Jew came again, with another Jew, both 
 Mussulmen. The prince gives every Jew, on conversion, 
 an honorary dress; so they are turning Mohammedans 
 every day. A young man, son of the old Jew, asked, — 
 ‘ How it could be supposed that God would leave so many 
 nations so long in darkness, — if Islam be an error?’ The 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 331 
 
 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 nation only, and left all the 
 rest in darkness V — 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 V ^ But first, ^ said he, ‘ what do 
 you think of God’s severity to the Jews at other times V 
 I said, ^ If my son do anything wrong, I punish him ; but 
 with the thieves and murderers out of doors, I have noth- 
 ing to do.’ This affected the old man ; and his son recol- 
 lected many passages in the Bible appropriate to this sen- 
 timent, and said, — ‘ Yes, they were indeed a chosen gen- 
 eration.’ 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 V They mentioned the 
 captivity. ‘ 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 Temple ? 
 Are you not mean and despised everywhere V They seem- 
 ed 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 always your 
 enemies. You acknowledge Jesus, indeed ; but it is only 
 for fear of the sword of the Ishmaelite,’ 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 anxious 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 
 
332 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 this morning, I went with the Ambassador and his suite to 
 court, wearing, agreeable to costume, a pair of red cloth 
 stockings with green, high-heeled shoes. When we en- 
 tered 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 engaging countenance than 
 the Prince’^s; there was such an appearance of good 
 nature and humility in all his demeanor, that I could 
 scarcely bring myself to believe that he would be guilty of 
 anything cruel or tyrannical.” 
 
 The Jewish Moollah, who, a few days before, had 
 attempted to support a heresy which he himself did not 
 believe, revisited Mr. Martyn, accompanied by one of his 
 brethren who had apostatized. These were followed, on 
 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 was boasting to Seid Ali, 
 that he had gained one hundred Jews to Islam, I could not 
 help saying, T will tell you how Jews are made Moham- 
 medans. First, the Prince gives them a dress ; secondly, — 
 here the old man colored, and, interrupting me, began to 
 urge, that it was not with the hope of any worldly ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 ‘‘ His object to-day was, to prove that 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 333 
 
 not recollect the miracle wrought by the bones of Elisha ; 
 neither did I at the time. 
 
 Mohammed Shareef Khan, one of the most renowned 
 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 Shiraz, 
 was never inaccessible to them. Strict as he was in the 
 observance of the Sabbath, he admitted them even on that 
 day to speak with him, for he had learnt the import cf 
 those words, I will have mercy and not sacrifice.” In 
 consequence, however, of his removal, in the middle of the 
 month of July, to a garden 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 Jaffier Ali Khan delighted to 
 point out to visitors, he passed many a tranquil hour, and 
 enjoyed many a Sabbath of holy rest and divine refresh- 
 ment. 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 RE- 
 PLIES TO A DEFENCE OF MOHAMMEDANISM INTERVIEW 
 
 WITH THE HEAD OF THE SOOFIES VISITS PERSEPOLIS 
 
 TRANSLATIONS DISCUSSIONS. 
 
 The day following this happy, though solitary Sabbath, 
 formed a contrast to its peaceful and sacred serenity ; — 
 being the day of Mr. Martyn’s first public controversy 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, prejudice, popularity, and 
 reputation for learning, was manifestly an unequal one. 
 Mr. Martyn, however, fearlessly engaged in it, knowing in 
 whom he had believed. 
 
 The subjoined is the account he has left of this disputa- 
 tion, — if such indeed it can be called ; — for the Professor, 
 it seems, could not so far forget his ofiicial dignity, as to 
 dispute fairly and temperately; — he preferred the easier 
 task of dogmatising magisterially. 
 
 He first ascertained from Seid Ali,^’ says Mr. Martyn, 
 that I did not want demonstration, but admitted that the 
 prophets had been sent. So, being a little easy at this 
 
MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 335 
 
 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 num- 
 ber of his learned friends, — among the rest, I perceived 
 the Jew. One was at his prayers. I was never more dis- 
 gusted 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 me on his left. Every thing around bore 
 the appearance 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 uncommon fluency and 
 clearness, and with a manner confident 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 phi- 
 losophers 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 ex- 
 tremity of the diameter is God, at the opposite extremity of 
 the diameter is matter, than which nothing in the world is 
 meaner. Rising from thence, the highest stage of matter 
 is connected with the lowest 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 
 
336 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 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 of the 
 Prophets. All this is what the philosophers have proved, 
 independently of any particular religion.’ I rather ima- 
 gined that it was the invention of some ancient Oriental 
 Christian, to make the doctrine of the Trinity appear more 
 reasonable. There were a hundred things in the Profes- 
 sor’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 re- 
 minded 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 anything 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 anything about Mohammedanism the first night. 
 But at the instigation of the Jew, 1 said, ‘Sir, you see 
 that Abdoolghunee is anxious that you should say some- 
 thing about Islam.’ — He was much displeased at being 
 brought so prematurely to the weak 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 337 
 
 believe in Christ?’ I replied, ^That is not the question. 
 I am at liberty to say, that I do not believe in any reli- 
 gion ; that I am a plain man, seeking the way of salva- 
 tion ; 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 
 you call God,’ said he, with a contemptuous smile. He 
 then enumerated the persons who had spoken of the mira- 
 cles of Mohammed, and told a long story about Salmon, 
 the Persian, who had come to Mohammed. I asked 
 ^ whether this Salmon had written an account of the mira- 
 cles he had seen V He confessed that he had not. ‘ Nor,’ 
 said I, ‘ have you a single witness to the miracles of Mo- 
 hammed.’ 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 evidence 
 as that, nor anything like it; but if you have, as they are 
 something like witnesses, we must proceed to examine 
 them, and see whether their testimony deserves credit.’ 
 ‘‘After this, the Koran was mentioned ; but as the com- 
 pany began to thin, and the great man had not a sufficient 
 audience before whom to display his eloquence, the dis- 
 pute was not so brisk. He did not, indeed, seem to think 
 it worth while to notice my objections. He mentioned a 
 well-known sentence in the Koran, as being inimitable. 
 I produced another sentence, and begged to know why it 
 was inferior to the Koranic one. He declined saying why, 
 under pretence that it required such a knowledge of rheto- 
 ric 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.” 
 
 29 
 
338 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 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 Pro- 
 fessor, he softly mentioned some more of my objections. 
 He was so vexed, that he scarcely answered anything; 
 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 Christians 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 lan- 
 guages and different histories.’ To the last I said noth- 
 ing ; 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.” 
 
 So universal a spirit of inquiry had been excited in the 
 city of Shiraz, by Mr. Martyn’s frequent disputations, as 
 well as by the notoriety of his being engaged in a transla- 
 tion of the New Testament into Persian, that the Precep- 
 tor of all the MooUalis 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 subtilty 
 which is indispensable in an apology for so glaring an im- 
 posture as Mohammedanism. 
 
 The chief Moollah begins by declaring his desire to 
 avoid all altercation and wrangling; and expresses his 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 339 
 
 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 perpetual miracle of 
 the Koran, addressed to the understanding, 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 influence. And he concludes with 
 the following address to Mr. Martyn : — 
 
 ‘^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 mira- 
 cles. 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 Hegira 
 of the Prophet. On him who fled be a thousand saluta- 
 tions 
 
 This work, Mr. Martyn immediately set himself to re- 
 fute, in dependence on his Saviour to ‘ give him a wisdom 
 which his adversaries should not be able to gainsay.’ His 
 answer was divided into two parts ; the first was princi- 
 pally devoted to an attack upon Mohammedanism; the 
 second was intended to display the evidences and estab- 
 lish the authority of the Christian faith. It was written 
 in Persian, and from a translation of the first part, which 
 has been found, we perceive that Mr. Martyn, ‘having 
 such hope, used great plainness of speech whilst at the 
 same time he treated his opponent with meekness and 
 courtesy. 
 
 After replying to the various arguments of Mirza Ibra- 
 heem, Mr. Martyn shows why men are bound to reject 
 Mohammedanism ; — that Mohammed was foretold by no 
 prophet ; — that he worked no miracles ; — that he spread 
 his religion by means merely hum_an, and framed his pre- 
 
340 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 cepts and promises to gratify men’s sensuality, both here 
 and hereafter ; — that he was most ambitious, both for him- 
 self and his family ; — that his Koran is full of gross ab- 
 surdities and palpable contradictions ; — that it contains a 
 method of salvation wholly inefficacious, which Mr. Mar- 
 tyn contrasted with the glorious and efficacious way of 
 salvation held out in the Gospel, through the divine atone- 
 ment of Jesus Christ. He concludes by addressing Mirza 
 Ibraheera in these words : — 
 
 I beg you to view these things with the eye of impar- 
 tiality. 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 washed us from our 
 sins in his blood.’ His glory and dominion be ever- 
 lasting !”* 
 
 Reverting to the journal, we meet with the following 
 statements illustrative of the Persian character, and de- 
 scriptive of the genius of Soofeism. From these, also, we 
 discover, that, notwithstanding individuals were to be 
 found in Shiraz, who professed Mohammedanism without 
 having imbibed the spirit of cruelty and extermination 
 which belongs to it, Mr. Martyn 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 arguments, 
 
 ^ The Rev. S. Lee, Professor of Hebrew, in the University of 
 C/ambridge, England, has translated the Replies of Mr. Martyn, in 
 this important controversy, and furnished various interesting mat- 
 ter in reference to the questions in dispute. For a brief analysis of 
 the subject, see Appendix M. E. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 341 
 
 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 Cor- 
 nelius.” 
 
 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 moment, he 
 continued talking with his nephew, on the subject of his 
 book, and begged that in case of his detention, 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 com- 
 prehend 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. 
 
 ‘‘1 often remind Seid Ali of one defect in his system, 
 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 ad- 
 mit this too.’ ” 
 
 Aug. 14. — “ Returned to the city in a fever, which con- 
 tinued 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 Infidels V ‘ 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 Ali having 
 shown his remarks in some companies, they begged him 
 29 ^ 
 
342 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 not to show them to me, for fear I should disgrace them 
 all 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 Mohammed, 
 observed that ‘ the proper answer to it was the sw’ord ; ’ 
 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 con- 
 tinued praising them. 
 
 The Moollah Aga Mohammed Hasan, himself a 
 Moodurris, and a very sensible, candid man, asked a good 
 deal about the European philosophy ; particularly 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 
 predominates. 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. How many times in the day have I occasion to 
 repeat the words, 
 
 Mf on my face, for thy dear name, 
 
 Shame and reproaches be ; 
 
 All hail, reproach, and welcome, shame, 
 
 If thou remember me.’ 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 343 
 
 The more they wish me to give up this one point, — 
 the Divinity of Christ, — 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 propor- 
 tion of the people of Shiraz, it is computed, are either the 
 secret or avowed disciples of Mirza Abulcasim. When- 
 ever ^ a great and effectual door ’ is opened for Christianity, 
 ‘ there are many adversaries.* It is otherwise with a de- 
 lusion congenial to the Mesires of the flesh and of the 
 mind’ in fallen man. Such a system the god of this 
 world is concerned to uphold rather 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 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 ques- 
 tion 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 
 
344 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 subjugation of the passions was the shortest way to hap- 
 piness/ 
 
 After a considerable pause, I ventured to ask ^ what 
 were his feelings in the prospect of death ; — hope, or fear, 
 or neither V ^ Neither,’ said he, and that ‘ pleasure and 
 pain were both alike.’ I then perceived that the Stoics 
 were Greek Soofies. I asked, ^ v/hether he had attained 
 this apathy?’ He said, ^No.’ ‘Why do you think it 
 attainable?’ He could not te'fl. ‘ 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. Why 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 calean with the ut- 
 most humility. On observing the pensive countenance of 
 the young man, and knowing something of his history 
 from Seid Ali, how he had left all to find happiness in the 
 contemplation of God, I longed to make known the glad 
 tidings of a Saviour, and thanked God, on coming away, 
 that I was not left ignorant of the Gospel. I could not 
 help being a little pleasant on Seid Ali, afterwards, for 
 his admiration of this silent 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 
 anything 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 appli- 
 cation of his powers to the highest ends and purposes* 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 345 
 
 There were also occasions in which this and other sci- 
 ences w^ere of service to the cause he had at heart, by pro- 
 curing 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 minis- 
 ter of Pars. There were a vast number of clients in his 
 court, with whom he transacted business while chatting 
 with us. Amongst the others who 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 answer 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 Ali’s persuasion, who told him it was a per- 
 formance that would do him no credit. Aga Acber gave 
 me a hint respecting its 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 
 Acber ; but there were many things not to be understood 
 without diagrams ; so a scribe in waiting was ordered to 
 produce his implements, and I was obliged to show him, 
 first, the sections of the cone, and how a body revolves in 
 an ellipse round the sun in one focus, &c. He knew 
 
346 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 nothing 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 did my 
 best ; but there were so many things they were obliged to 
 take for granted, that all my endeavors were to little pur- 
 pose. So much Mirza Seid Ali comprehended, that the 
 hypothesis of a force varying inversely as the square of 
 the distance, was sufficient to account for every phenome- 
 non ; and that therefore, according to the rules of philoso- 
 phy, a more complex hypothesis 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 perusing the 
 subjoined relation of the effect prdduced on his mind by 
 Mr. Martyn^s defence of Christianity and attack upon 
 Mohammedanism. 
 
 Aug. 29. — “Mirza Ibraheem begins to inquire about 
 the Gospel. The 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, provided 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 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 34T 
 
 research, and which form one great source of intellectual 
 gratification. Whilst the moral depravity of Shiraz 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 reflections, 
 on visiting these celebrated remains of antiquity. 
 
 ‘‘ I procured two horsemen, as guards, from the minis- 
 ter, and set off* about two hours before sunset. At a sta- 
 tion of Rahdars we fed the horses, and then continued 
 our course, through a most dismal country, till midnight, 
 when we entered a vast plain, and, two or three hours be- 
 fore 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 imagine 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 European enjoyment of drinking, and the 
 Persian one of straight walks, cypress-trees, and muddy 
 water in a square cistern. One of my guards was con- 
 tinually reminding me, on my way thither, that it was un- 
 inhabited. 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 coming 
 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 drunk- 
 enness was as great a sin with us as with them, they 
 altered their tone, and said that wine was not only unlaw- 
 fiil, but odious and filthy. 
 
348 
 
 BIEMOIR Of 
 
 “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 ancient Persians 
 seems to be much more akin to that of their clumsy neigh- 
 bors the Indians, than to that of the Greeks. I saw no 
 appearance of grand design anywhere. The chapiters of 
 the columns were almost as long as the shafts ; — though 
 they are not so represented 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 Alex- 
 ander and his Greeks passed and repassed; — here they 
 sat, and sung, and revelled : now all is silence ; — genera- 
 tion on generation lie mingled with the dust of their 
 
 o o 
 
 mouldering 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 me 
 every attention. At sunset, we set out on our return, 
 and lost our way. As I particularly remarked where we 
 entered the plains, I pointed out the track, which after- 
 wards 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 recrossed the Araxes, they begged me 
 to point out the Keblah to them, as they wanted to pray. 
 After setting 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, contrasted 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 349 
 
 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. Twenty-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 ! Lahitur et 
 lahetur in omne voluhilis cBvum,^ may be affirmed of the 
 river ; but men pass away as soon as they begin to exist. 
 W^ell, 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 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 constantl}^ 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?’ ‘ The love of man.’ ‘That is,’ said he, 
 ‘ to have men love us, or to love them ? ’ ‘ To love them.’ 
 
 He did not seem to agree with me. Another time he 
 asked, ‘ Who were the worst people in the world ? ’ I said, 
 ‘ Those who know their duty, and do not practise it.’ At 
 the house where I was entertained, they asked me the 
 question which the Lord once asked, ‘ What think ye of 
 
 * It flows and will continue to flow forever, 
 t For some interesting particulars in regard to Persepolis, see 
 Appendix N. E. 
 
 30 
 
350 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Christ ? ’ 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 was 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 Ramazan, 
 which he witnessed on his return to Shiraz, whilst they 
 show that he was far from being an inobservant spectator 
 of what was passing around him, afford a striking view of 
 the interior of Mohammedanism. We plainly discover 
 from them that a love for particular popular preachers, — a 
 fiery zeal in religion, — a vehement excitation of the ani- 
 mal feelings, as well as rigid austerities, — are false cri- 
 terions of genuine piety ; for we see all these in their full 
 perfection amongst the real followers of the Crescent, as 
 well as amongst the pretended disciples of the Cross. 
 
 Sept. 20. — “ First day of the fast of Ramazan. — All the 
 family have been up in the night, to take an unseasonable 
 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 scolding and* beating his 
 servants ; they equally peevish and insolent ; and the beg- 
 gars 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 ? ’ said the 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 351 
 
 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 custom. There is no public service in the 
 Mosque ; every man there prays for himself. 
 
 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 som.e valuable Warsaw 
 plates, which were thrown down and broken. The ser- 
 vants went off without making compensation. No cazi 
 will hear a complaint against the Prince’s servants. 
 
 Hagi Mohammed Hasan preaches every day during 
 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 Mohammedan, that what they call 
 religion, is merely a thing of their own, having no con- 
 nection with God and his kingdom. This subject has 
 been much on my mind of late. Plow senseless the zeal 
 of churchmen against dissenters, and of dissenters against 
 the church ! The kingdom of God is neither meat nor 
 drink, nor anything perishable ; but righteousness, and 
 peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost. 
 
 ‘‘ Mirza Ibraheem never goes to the Mosque ; but he is 
 so much respected, that nothing is said : they conclude 
 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 employed in a good work ; let 
 him go on with it.’ The old man continues to inquire 
 with interest about the Gospel, and is impatient for his 
 nephew to explain the evidences of Christianity, which I 
 have drawn up.” 
 
352 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Sept. 22. — Sunday. — friends returned from the 
 Mosque, full of indignation at what they had witnessed 
 there. The former governor of Bushire complained to the 
 vizier, in the Mosque, that some of his servants had treated 
 him brutally. The vizier, instead of attending to his com- 
 plaint, ordered them to do their work a second time ; which 
 they did, kicking and beating him with their slippers, in 
 the most ignominious way, before all the Mosque. This 
 unhappy people groan under the tyranny of their gov- 
 ernors ; yet nothing subdues or tames them. Happy Eu- 
 rope ! how has God favored the sons of Japheth, by caus- 
 ing them to embrace the Gospel. How dignified are all 
 the nations of Europe compared with this nation ! Yet 
 the people are clever and intelligent, and more calculated 
 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 austerities, he 
 threw up Mohammedanism altogether, and attached him- 
 self 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 began 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 Creator and crea- 
 ture. In the midst of our conversation, 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 Moham- 
 medan, 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 353 
 
 he was growing more and more proud and contemptuous, 
 he could ascribe it to nothing but his prayers, and there- 
 fore, from purely conscientious motives, left them off. 
 
 ‘‘ Jaffier Ali Khan was also once a great sayer of prayers, 
 and regularly passed every afternoon, for fourteen years, in 
 cursing the worshippers of Omar, according to the pre- 
 scribed form ; but perceiving that these zealous maledic- 
 tions 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 gained by such con- 
 verts ? ‘ 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 be- 
 come fools.” 
 
 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 Ilagi 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. However, a day or two after, he 
 thought better of it. This preacher is famous for letting 
 out his money for interest ; 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. ‘ W hy,’ said he, ‘ the Per- 
 30 * 
 
354 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 aians 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 would not believe, when I told them who was 
 there, till they came and sav^ the sage asleep. When he 
 awoke, they came in, and seated 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 how I had found 
 peace from the Son of God and the Spirit of God : through 
 the first, forgiveness ; through the second, sanctification. 
 He said it was good, but said it with the same unconcern 
 with which he admits all manner of things, however con- 
 tradictory. 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 killed 
 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 ^2,000 a-year of it. To 
 keep alive the zeal of the people, who make their offerings 
 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 
 undeceived. Presents of sheep, fowls, sweetmeats, money, 
 flowed in upon the Mootuwulli, who skilfully turned all to 
 the best advantage. Those who wished to see the man’s 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 355 
 
 face, were to pay so much ; those 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 
 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 confu- 
 sion; 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 bow. These were from the Prince ; but the Mool- 
 lahs refused to admit them till seventy-two of the same kind 
 bore the same testimony. This was no great number for 
 a Prince to produce ; so the seventy-two appeared, and the 
 feast was proclaimed.” 
 
 Towards the end of November, great progress having 
 been made in the Persian translation of the New Testa- 
 ment, Mr. Martyn ordered two splendid copies of it to be 
 prepared, designing to present the one to the king of Per- 
 sia, 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 engaged 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. 
 
356 
 
 MEMOIR OE 
 
 Dec. 3. — Attended the lecture of Aga Mohammed 
 Hasan. He read and commented on three books of meta- 
 physics, and at intervals conversed with me. Amongst 
 other things we discussed the cause of the ascent of a light 
 body in a fluid. Our argument came at last to this, — that 
 if one particle of fluid were on another, it would, from its 
 gravity, move ever horizontally off, in order to be nearer 
 the centre. ‘ If,’ said he, ^ a body can move towards the 
 centre only directly, how do you account for its falling 
 down an inclined plane ? ’ I began to explain the com- 
 position and resolution of forces ; but some disciples com- 
 ing, he could not stay to hear what I had to say, but went 
 on with his lecture. At one time he asked me some ques^ 
 tions 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 him- 
 self, 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 rea- 
 sons, but asked in vain. ‘ Proofs,’ he said, ‘ were cob- 
 webs, — 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 pro- 
 ducing what they know of the Gospel, in confirmation of 
 their mystic themes. The atonement they would not hear 
 of, because the Mohammedans pretended, in the same way, 
 that Hosyn was sacrificed for the sins of men. Thus 
 Satan has contrived Mohammedanism with more craft than 
 at first appears ; for the impostor of Mecca, by making 
 common cause with the prophets of God, has taken care, 
 that if any forsake him, they shall at the same time forsake 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 357 
 
 the messengers of God ; of whom they know nothing but 
 just what he tells them, — which 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 consider all the Brahmins as philosophers of 
 the same school with themselves. One of them asked me 
 gravely, ‘ whether I had met with any in whom was the 
 Holy Ghost*!' This, he supposed, was the only way of ex- 
 pressing what they meant by being enlightened.” 
 
 Dec. 12. — Letters, at last, from India. Mirza Seid 
 Ali was curious to know in what way we corresponded, 
 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. i. 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 V 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 confidence with which 
 Christians spoke of salvation. On 1 Cor. xi. he observed, 
 that the doctrine of the resurrection of the body was un- 
 reasonable ; 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 Russians 
 and Armenians ; and, at Jaffier Ali Khan’s request, in- 
 vited the Soofie Master, with his disciples. I hoped there 
 would be some conversation on the occasion of our meet- 
 ing, and indeed Mirza Seid Ali did make some attempts, 
 and explained to the old man the meaning of the Lord's 
 
358 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Supper ; but the sage maintaining his usual silence, the 
 subject was dropped. 
 
 I expressed my satisfaction at seeing them assembled 
 on such an occasion, and my hope that they would re- 
 member 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 moment 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 wed- 
 ding; but just before the guests were to have assembled, 
 the Darogha’s servants seized his father-in-law, and carried 
 him away to be bastinadoed, or else to pay five hundred 
 piastres. It seems he had given a bond to that amount, 
 never to sell wine to Mohammedans ; and yesterday he was 
 detected in the act. Jaffier Ali Khan wrote, in my name, 
 to the Vizier, to request 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 evi- 
 dence sent his bond. Finding that it was not a piece of 
 villany on the part of the government, as I had appre- 
 hended, I declined having anything 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, who had for- 
 merly been a servant of his, to represent the matter in such 
 a light to his master as to excite his compassion. 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 released him and forgiven him the forfeit for 
 my sake. The Armenians were in ecstasies 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 una- 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 359 
 
 ble to attend the wedding, from a cough, which made it 
 unsafe to be out at night. They sat up all night, accord- 
 ing 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 them ! An Armenian, if 
 he gets a new coat, makes the 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 Christian ought to be.” 
 
 Dec. 31. — The accounts of the desolations of war 
 during the last year, which I have been reading in some 
 Indian newspapers, make the world appear more gloomy 
 than ever. How many souls hurried into eternity unpre- 
 pared. How many thousands of widows and orphans left 
 to mourn ! But admire, my soul, the matchless power of 
 God, that out of this ruin he has prepared for himself an in- 
 heritance. 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 have been led, by what I have reason to consider 
 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 usefully, in a way I did not 
 expect or foresee, especially if my own will is in any de- 
 
360 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 gree crossed by the work unexpectedly assigned me ; as 
 there is then reason to believe that God is acting. The 
 present year will probably be a perilous one ; but my life is 
 of little consequence, 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 importance I then 
 attached to my life and labors. The more I see of my own 
 works, the more I am ashamed of them. Coarseness and 
 clumsiness mar all the works of man. I am sick, when I 
 look at man, and his wisdom, and his doings ; and am re- 
 lieved only by reflecting, that we have a city whose builder 
 and maker is God. The least of His works it is refresh- 
 ing to look at. A dried leaf, or a straw, makes me feel my- 
 self in good company : 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 which 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 see the 
 College. It is almost in ruins, not having been repaired 
 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 stipend is now allowed to 
 the principal teachers. Near it is an octagonal caravan- 
 sera, where goods were formerly exposed to sale, and a tax 
 levied, which was appropriated 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 
 
HENRY MARTIN. 361 
 
 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 property, 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 of- 
 fender 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 against the pave- 
 ment, and not send such messengers 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 Saviour 
 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 
 xvii. 20, 21. 
 
 Jan. 16. — “Mirza Seid Ali told me accidentally, to-day, 
 of a distich made by his friend Mirza Koochut, at Teheran 
 in honor of a victory obtained by Prince Abbas Mirza over 
 the Russians. The sentiment was, that 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. 
 31 
 
362 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Mirza Seid Ali perceived that I was considerably dis* 
 ordered, 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 dis- 
 honored/ 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, inasmuch as it made me feel nearer 
 the Lord than ever. It is when the head or heart is struck, 
 that every member feels its membership.’ This conversa- 
 tion took place while we were translating. In the evening, 
 he mentioned the circumstance of a young man’s being 
 murdered, — a fine athletic youth, whom I had often seen 
 in the garden. Some acquaintance of his, in a slight 
 quarrel, had plunged a dagger in his breast. Observing 
 me 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 immediate 
 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 disputation about the identity of sin and 
 holiness, heaven and hell ; to all which I made no reply.” 
 
 The subjoined conversation, into which Mr. Martyn 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, came, 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 363 
 
 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 ? ’ 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 kind. I questioned its anti- 
 quity ; ‘ but however that 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 per- 
 son, 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 
 salvation. He asked what I meant? I told him ‘that 
 though sin still remained, I was assured that it should not 
 regain dominion ; and that I should never come into con- 
 demnation, but was accepted in the beloved.’ Not a little 
 surprised, he asked Mirza Seid Ali whether he compre* 
 hended 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?’ 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.. 
 
364 
 
 BIEMOIR OF 
 
 They then both asked whether the same benefit would be 
 conferred on them? ^ Yes/ said I, ^for so the Apostles 
 preached, that all who were baptized in his name should 
 receive the gift of the Holy Ghost/ ‘ Can you assure me,’ 
 said Mirza Seid Ali, ‘ that the Spirit will be given to me ; 
 if so, I will be baptized immediately.’ ^ Who am I, that 1 
 should be surety,’ — I replied : — ‘ I bring you this message 
 from God, that he who, despairing of himself, rests for 
 righteousness 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 anything, that I have found the promise 
 fulfilled in myself. But if, after baptism, you should not 
 find it so in you, accuse not the Gospel of falsehood ; — it 
 is possible that your faith might not be sincere ; indeed, 
 so fully am I persuaded that you do not believe on the 
 Son of God, that if you were to entreat ever so earnestly 
 for baptism, I should not dare to administer it at this time, 
 when you have shown so many signs of an unhumbled 
 heart.’ ‘ What ! would you have me believe,’ said he, 
 ‘as a child?’ ‘Yes,’ said I. ‘True,’ said he, ‘I think 
 that is the only way.’ Aga Ali said no more but ‘ Cer- 
 tainly he is a good man ! ’ ” 
 
 Shortly after this discussion, Mr. Martyn states himself 
 to have attended a public exhibition of a religious kind. 
 The reason why he did not repeat his attendance, whether 
 well grounded or not, is at least a proof that patriotic feel- 
 ings in his mind were not extinguished 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 personce w’ere two ; the daugh- 
 ter 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, 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 365 
 
 several feats of activity were exhibited before the altar, 
 where the Vizier 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 think it right to let him have an- 
 other opportunity of showing a slight to my country in my 
 person.” 
 
 Those who know not what it is to pass a dreary season 
 of long seclusion from Christian society, surrounded by 
 those who are immersed in all wickedness, can form but 
 an inadequate idea of the sacrifices to which Mr. Martyn 
 submitted, in continuing so great a length of time at Shi- 
 raz : yet we may in some measure see what he endured, 
 from the expression of sentiments such as these : — 
 
 Feb. 2. — From what I suffer in this city, I can under- 
 stand the feelings of Lot. The face of the poor Russiaa 
 appears to me like the face of an angel, because he does 
 not tell lies. Heaven will be heaven, because there will 
 not be one liar there. The word of God is more precious 
 to me at this time than I ever remember 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 sin- 
 gle letter for me. It was some disappointment to me; 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 where I can find what 
 will more than compensate for the loss of earthly enjoy- 
 ments. 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 judgment with 
 31 ^ 
 
366 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 respect to its doctrines, appears from the representation 
 Mr. Martyn gives of the conduct of Mirza Seid Ali, at this 
 period. 
 
 Feb. 4. — Mirza Seid Ali, who has been enjoying him- 
 self in dissipation and idleness these two days, returned 
 full of evil and opposition to the Gospel. 
 
 Alluding to some remarks he had made, ‘ I suppose,* 
 said he, ‘ you think it is sinful to sport with the characters 
 of holy men.* ‘ I have no objection,* I replied, ‘ to hear 
 your sentiments ; but I cannot bear to hear anything spo- 
 ken disrespectfully of the Lord Jesus; 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 something so awfully pure about 
 him, that nothing can be said.* ** 
 
 Recovering somewhat of a more serious spirit, Seid Ali 
 joined with Aga Boozorg, whom Mr. Martyn describes as 
 one of the most magisterial of the Soofies, in a conversa- 
 tion 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 confession on the part of Seid Ali. 
 
 Feb. 9. — Aga Boozorg came. After much conversa- 
 tion, 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 I, ‘ I have 
 nothing to say ; 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 before men, and act 
 conformably to his word V ‘ 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 you shall 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 367 
 
 have the Spirit to purify your heart, and to give you the 
 assurance of everlasting happiness.’ Thus Aga Boozorg 
 had the opportunity 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 ; ‘ for, 
 notwithstanding all my sins, the bent of my heart 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 subject 
 of religion was dropped, except that while speaking 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, assured 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 Ali 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 containing the 
 fourth, fifth, and sixth chapters of the second Epistle to 
 the Corinthians, which Aga Ali read out. 
 
 At this time the company had increased considerably. 
 
 I desired Aga Ali to notice particularly the latter part of 
 the fifth chapter, ^God was in Christ, reconciling 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 anything that 
 tallied with their own sentiments. Upon the passage — 
 
 ‘ 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 foj^ 
 
368 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 Jesus ? ’ 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 absorbed in the 
 contemplation of God ; and when we recover, it is to in- 
 struct you/ 
 
 ‘‘ Walking afterwards with Mirza Seid Ali, he told me 
 how much one of my remarks had aifected 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 humble, you 
 would not dispute in this manner ; you would be like a 
 child.’ He did not open his mouth afterwards, but to say, 
 ‘ True ; I have no humility.’ In evident distress, he ob- 
 served, ‘ The truth is, we are in a state of compound 
 ignorance ; — ignorant, yet ignorant of our ignorance.’ ” 
 
 On the last birth-day Mr. Martyn lived to commemorate^ 
 we find him speaking in affecting terms with respect 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 dis- 
 order 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 ? After 
 rectifying their mistake as to the Mohammedans, I men- 
 tioned two or three reasons for believing that we are right : 
 such as their dispersion, and the cessation of sacrifices, 
 immediately on the appearance of Jesus. ‘ True, true,’ 
 they said, with great feeling and seriousness ; indeed, they 
 seemed disposed to yield assent to anything I said. They 
 confessed they had become Mohammedans only on com- 
 pulsion : 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 Mohammedan. ^ Did I think Syria safer ? ’ ‘ The safest 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 369 
 
 place in the east/ I said, ^ was India/ Feelings of pity 
 for God’s ancient people, and having the awful importance 
 of eternal things impressed on my mind by the seriousness 
 of their inquiries as to what would become of them, re- 
 lieved me from the pressure of my comparatively insignifi- 
 cant distresses. I, a poor Gentile, blest, honored, and 
 loved ; secured forever by the everlasting covenant, whilst 
 the children of the kingdom are still lying in outward dark- 
 ness ! Well does it become me to be thankful. 
 
 ‘‘ This is my birth-day, on which I complete my thirty- 
 first year. The Persian New Testament has been begun, 
 and I may say, finished in it, as only the last eight chap- 
 ters of the Revelations remain. Such a painful 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 hope 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 visitors, who 
 to great libertinism of practice added extreme latitudinari- 
 anism of principle. 
 
 February 23. — ^‘Aga Neeser came, and talked most 
 captiously and irrelevantly against all revealed religion. 
 Three years ago he had thrown off the shackles of Mo- 
 hammed, 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 wilderness ; but I would 
 rather be a child under the restraints of a parent, who 
 would provide me with food and clothing, and be my pro- 
 tector and guide. To every thing I said, he had but one 
 answer. ‘ God is the sole agent ; — sin and holiness^ hap- 
 piness and misery, cause and effect, are all perfectly one.’ 
 Finding him determined to amuse himself in this way, I 
 
370 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 said, ^ These things will do very well for the present, 
 while reclining in gardens and smoking caleans ; but not 
 for a dying hour. How many years of life remain ? You 
 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 prepa- 
 ration for manhood, and that neglect of the proper em- 
 ployments of childhood entails miseries in riper years.' 
 The thought of death and of separation from his pleasures, 
 made him serious ; or perhaps, h^ thought it useless to press 
 me with any more 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 bringing 
 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 interpreter of it, 
 graciously and powerfully apply it to the hearts of sinners, 
 even to the gathering an elect people from amongst the 
 long-estranged Persians ! ” 
 
 The version of the Psalms in Persian, a sweet employ- 
 ment,” as Mr. Martyn terms it, and which, to use his own 
 language, caused six weary moons, that waxed and wan- 
 ed since its commencement, to pass unnoticed,” was finish- 
 ed 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 seen, in en- 
 deavoring 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 embraced, and boldly sought 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 371 
 
 out, every occasion of avowing ‘‘ 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, wdiich ‘‘ rejoicing in the truth,” is ever 
 ready to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to 
 the saints.” No one could have a more deep-rooted 
 antipathy to controversy, at all times, and with all persons, 
 than Mr. Martyn : a paramount regard to what was indis- 
 pensably due to the cause of his Redeemer alone could in- 
 duce him to engage in it. 
 
 One public argument he had already held with the chief 
 professor of Mohammedan law ; a second disputation, of 
 a similar, but far more decided character, he was led to en- 
 ter into, at this time, with Mirza Ibraheem. The scene 
 of this discussion w^as a court in the palace of one of the 
 Persian princes, where a numerous body of Moollahs were 
 collected, with Mirza Ibraheem 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, the di- 
 vinity of the Son of God. 
 
 On the 23d,” Mr. Martyn writes, I called on the 
 Vizier, and afterwards on the secretary of the Kermanshah 
 prince. In the court where he received me, Mirza Ibra- 
 heem 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 master 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 a|cend. 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 toler- 
 ated. I entered, and was surprised at the numbers. The 
 
372 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 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 mas- 
 ter, who, after the usual compliments, without further 
 ceremony, asked me, ‘ what we meant by calling Christ, 
 God?’ War being thus unequivocally declared, I had 
 nothing to do but to stand upon the defensive. 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 7 ’ I replied, ^ The Creator.’ 
 The Moollahs looked at one another. Such a confession 
 had never before been heard among these Mohammedan 
 doctors. ^ 
 
 “ One Mooli ah wanted to controvert some of my illus- 
 trations, by interrogating me about the personality of Christ. 
 To all his questions I replied by requesting the same in- 
 formation respecting his own person. 
 
 ‘‘To another who was rather contemptuous and violent, 
 I said, ‘ If you do not approve of our doctrine, 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 w’ork upon a vast number of 
 materials. Is that a correct notion ? ’ 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 re- 
 fined notion ? ’ After this no one asked me any more 
 questions ; and for fear the dispute should be renewed, 
 Jaffier Ali Khan carried me away.” 
 
 After making this intrepid and memorable confession of 
 the divinity of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Qfirist, in which 
 he might be described as — 
 
 “ Faithful found 
 
 Among the faithless ; faithful only he : 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 373 
 
 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 
 interesting 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 does when any of 
 his friends come, his 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 Moollahs, 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 sub- 
 ject. 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 Abul- 
 hasan, reading, at their request, the Old Testament his- 
 tories. Their attention to the word, and their love and 
 attention to me, seemed to increase as the time of my de- 
 parture approached. 
 
 ‘‘ Aga Baba, who had been reading St. Matthew, related 
 very circumstantially to the company, the particulars of 
 the death of Christ. The bed of roses on which we sat, 
 and the notes of the nightingales warbling around us, 
 32 
 
374 
 
 MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 were not so sweet to me, as this ^discourse from the Per* 
 sian. 
 
 Telling Mirza Seid Ali, one day, that I wished to re- 
 turn 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 God ? ’ 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 ought to be addressed : I told 
 him, as a father, with respectful love ; and added some other 
 exhortations 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 evi- 
 dences, I had any internal proofs of the doctrine of Christ? ’ 
 I answered, ‘ Yes, undoubtedly : the change from what I 
 once was, is a sufficient evidence to me.’ At last he took 
 his leave, in great sorrow, 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 Testa- 
 ment 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 besetting sins. I 
 hope, as well as pray, that some lasting effects may be seen 
 at Shiraz, from the word of God left among them.” 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 MR. MARTYN LEAVES SHIRAZ IN ORDER TO LAY BEFORE 
 
 THE KING HIS TRANSLATION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT 
 
 ARRIVES AT THE CAMP IS NOT ADMITTED TO AN AUDI- 
 ENCE PROCEEDS TO TEBRIZ SEVERE ILLNESSr 
 
 On the evening of the 24th of May, one year after enter- 
 ing Persia, Mr. Martyn left Shiraz, in company with an 
 English clergyman, with the intention of laying before the 
 king his translation of the New Testament ; but finding 
 that, without a letter of introduction from the British am-' 
 bassador, he could not, consistently with established usagey 
 be admitted into the royal presence, he determined to pro- 
 ceed to Tebriz, where, at that time. Sir Gore Ouseley, his 
 Britannic majesty’s minister, resided. 
 
 His journey from Shiraz to Tebriz was not accomplished 
 in less than eight weeks, including one week spent at Is- 
 fahan, and a few days at the king’s camp ; and the latter 
 part of it was a time of great and unforeseen suffering to 
 him. Had he known to what peril his life would be sub** 
 jected, he doubtless would have deemed his object of too 
 insufficient a magnitude to justify his exposing himself to 
 so much danger. 
 
 “ A little before 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 separation from 
 my friends was often a severe trial. Our journey to Per- 
 
376 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 sepolis was performed in ten hours. I had a fall from my 
 horse, owing to the saddle coming off, but a gracious Provi- 
 dence preserved me from harm.” 
 
 May 12. — ‘‘ Staid at Futiliabad, a village about a para- 
 sang from the ruins.” 
 
 May 13. — ‘^At three in the morning, we pursued our 
 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, ex- 
 cept the broom and hawthorn. The weather was rather 
 tempestuous, with cold gusts of wind and rain. 
 
 The inhabitants of the village, this being the Imanza- 
 du’s tomb, do no work, and pay no tax ; but are maintain- 
 ed by the surrounding villages, and the casual offerings 
 of visitors to the tomb. The caravansera being 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 dis- 
 tempers.” 
 
 May 15. — From the top of a mountain, just behind 
 Imanzadu, we descended into a vast plain, entirely unin- 
 habited, except where the skirts 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 being in ruins, let 
 in the wind upon us, at night, in all directions.” 
 
 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 bag- 
 gage not having come up, we were obliged to pass an- 
 other day in this uncomfortable neighborhood, where 
 nothing was to be procured for ourselves or our horses; 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 377 
 
 the scarcity of rain this year having left the ground desti*- 
 tute 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. Enter- 
 ing 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 obstructed, 
 we arrived at a caravansera, in a great cleft, which divides 
 Ears from Irak.” 
 
 May 19. — “ Moved forward six parasangs, to a private 
 house at Mujrood. The plain, as usual, uninhabited ; 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 start- 
 ed 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 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 functions without remuneration, and 
 even without the necessary provision, he talked of return^ 
 ing to Aleppo.” 
 
 May 24. — Sunday. — ^^Went early this morning to the 
 Armenian church attached to the episcopal residence. 
 Within the rails were two out of the four bishops, and 
 32 * 
 
378 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 re- 
 spective parish churches, of which there are twelve, served 
 by twenty priests. After their pageantry was over, and 
 we were satisfied with processions, ringing of bells, waving 
 of colors, and other ceremonies, which were so numerous 
 as entirely to remove all semblance of spiritual worship, 
 we were condemned 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 
 hired 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 converse with 
 the abbess, through Matteus, and was not much surprised 
 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 attain that object. I talked to him a good deal 
 about the office of the Holy Spirit, but he did not, while 
 assenting, 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 speak Persian; so that all the conversation 
 was between me and Matteus. At my request he brought 
 what he had of the Holy Scriptures, in Persian and Arabic. 
 They were Wheloi’s Persian Gospels, and an Arabic ver- 
 sion 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 379 
 
 knowledge* Returned mucfi disappointed. Julfa had 
 formerly twenty bishops, 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 to church prayers. Mat- 
 teus 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. Matte us 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.” 
 
 At the end of the month of May, Mr. Martyn departed 
 from Isfahan, and thus describes a route in which the ex- 
 tremes of lovely fertility and sterile desolation seem to have 
 been united. 
 
 June 1. — Continued winding through the mountains 
 to Caroo, situated in a deep dell. Here w’ere trees, green 
 corn-fields, and running streams ; it was the first pkce I 
 have seen in Asia wdiich exhibited anything of the scenery 
 of England.” 
 
 June 2. — Soon after midnight we mounted our horses. 
 It was a mild moonlight night,, and a nightingale 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 accompanied us, till it was lost in a lake. 
 At day-light we emerged into the plain of Cashan, which 
 seems to be a part of the Great Salt Desert. On our arri- 
 val 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 tlie north-east beyond Tehran.” 
 
 June 5.— ‘‘ Reached Koni; the country uniformly de- 
 solate. 
 
 ‘‘The chief Moojtuhid in all Persia being a resident of 
 this city, I sent to know if a visit would be agreeable to 
 
380 
 
 IVIEMOIR OF 
 
 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 
 travelling ten parasangs, reached the caravansera of Hour 
 Sultania. Here, first, we seemed to be approaching the 
 Tartar regions.’’ 
 
 June 7. — ‘‘ Arrived at a caravansera, with villages in 
 the neighborhood, seven parasangs. A large party gath« 
 ered about me in the evening, and from asking questions 
 about Europe, proceeded, as usual, to interrogate me con- 
 cerning Christ. They continued about me till I mounted 
 my horse, and rode from amongst them, to prosecute my 
 journey.” 
 
 June 8. — Arrived, two hours before day-break, at the 
 walls of Tehran. I spread my bed upon the high road, 
 and slept till the gates were open ; then entered the city, 
 and took up my abode at the ambassador’s house.” 
 
 As no muleteers could be procured at Tehran to proceed 
 to Tebriz, it was considered advisable that Mr. Martyn 
 should travel alone to the king’s camp, for the purpose of 
 seeing Mirza Shufi, the premier, or Ameenoddoula, and 
 soliciting his assistance in obtaining for him an introduc- 
 tion 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 travelled all 
 night, till sunrise, when I arrived at the caravansera, close 
 to the king’s camp at Carach. I lost no time in forward- 
 ing 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 381 
 
 being a secretary of state, and a great admirer of the 
 Soofie sage. They took very little notice, not rising when 
 I sat down, as is their custom to all who sit with them ; 
 nor offering me calean. The two secretaries, on learning 
 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, useful. What I remember of 
 it was as follows : ‘ Do you consider the New Testament 
 as the word spoken by God?’ ‘ 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 un- 
 derstood 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 believe the resurrection of 
 the body ? that every particle buried shall rise ?’ I men- 
 tioned the Scripture metaphor of the wheat dying and 
 rising, with which the Soofie secretary appeared much 
 pleased. ‘What are the principles of your religion?* 
 ‘ They are all centred in Jesus ; not in his precepts, but 
 in himself’ ‘ What are your opinions concerning Christ ? 
 was he a prophet created ?’ ‘ His manhood was created ; 
 
 his Godhead, of course, was not.’ ‘ Now we much wish 
 to hear what are your notions on that extraordinary subject, 
 the Trinity ?’ I explained them, and began with observing, 
 that the doctrine was by no means so extraordinary 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 Koran ?’ ‘ Yes.’ ‘ Is it not 
 
 a miracle ?’ ‘ Prove it to be so.’ The Soofie said, as if 
 
 from me, ‘ The Arkbs say it is inimitably elegant ; how do I, 
 
382 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 miracles of Christ V I was about to answer, when tho 
 Soofie, not thinking it would be satisfactory, said, rather 
 dogmatically, that no religion could be proved demonstra- 
 tively. I said that ‘ If such a degree of probable evidence 
 was adduced, as we acted upon in common life, we should 
 be inexcusable in rejecting it.’ 
 
 On the top of the caravansera, at sunset, I had a con- 
 versation 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 ignorance. Eviery 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 Ko^ 
 ran was exactly true ; this he took to be an acknowledg- 
 ment that the book was from God. Thinking it worth 
 while to see the state of the middling rank of Moham- 
 medans, I let him talk away. He supposed that the Mo- 
 hammedans had formerly taken all Europe, and that we 
 still paid 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 
 Constantine, emperor of Rome. He could not understand 
 how Europe should be on one side of Persia, and India on 
 the other. Such geographical difficulties are not to be 
 wondered at in such a poor fellow, though he had travelled 
 as a merchant a good deal, — when the Moollahs, and 
 probably even the ministers of state, do not know the rela- 
 tive 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 383 
 
 had made some impression upon me ; and, with eyes spark- 
 ling with hopes of a conquest, told me, with great affec- 
 tion, what I should do to get a knowledge of the truth. 
 ‘ Drink,’ said he, ‘ no wine for three days ; pray, accord- 
 ing to your own form, 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 direction in this particular; what then?’ ‘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 themselves in array against 
 him, and contended with him in behalf of Mohammedan- 
 ism, in the presence of the prime minister of the kingdom. 
 There it was demanded of him that he should deny that 
 Saviour who had bought him with his blood : but he 
 “ witnessed a good confession,” and fearlessly acknow- 
 ledged Jesus as his Lord. 
 
 June 12, — “I attended the Vizier’s levee, where there 
 was a most intemperate and clamorous controversy 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 ab- 
 surd 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 gospel, 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 
 
384 
 
 MEMOIR OP 
 
 of God.’ 1 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 bringing forward till then, than they all ex- 
 claimed in contempt 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 is 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 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 wrap- 
 ped it in a towel before them ; while they looked at it and 
 me with supreme contempt. 
 
 “ Thus I walked away alone to my tent, to 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 : — 
 
 ‘ If on my face, for thy dear name,’ &c. 
 
 “ 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 pre- 
 sented 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 shalt 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 
 
HExXRY IVIARTYN. 
 
 385 
 
 amongst all his enemies,” he could nevertheless exclaim 
 with the Psalmist, O how great is thy goodness, which 
 thou hast laid up for them that fear thee, which thou hast 
 wrought for them that trust in thee before the sons of 
 men,” — he turned his back upon the king’s camp, having 
 been joined by his companion from Tehran, and prosecu- 
 ted his journey towards Tebriz. 
 
 June 13. — Disappointed,” he writes, “ of my object in 
 coming to the camp, I lost no time in leaving it, and pro- 
 ceeded in company with Mr. C , who had just joined 
 
 me from Tehran, towards Casbin ; intending there to wait 
 the result of an application to the ambassador. Started at 
 eleven, and travelled till eleven next morning, having 
 gone ten parasangs, or forty miles, to duishlag. The 
 country all along was well watered and cultivated. The 
 mules being too much tired to proceed, we passed the day 
 at the village ; 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 India 
 and England ; of the vast regions I must traverse before 
 I can get to either, and of the various and unexpected 
 hindrances which present themselves to my going forward ! 
 I comfort myself with the hope that my God has some- 
 thing 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 ; but at 
 
 night we moved forward, and after travelling seven para- 
 sangs over the same fine plain, reached Casbin.” 
 
 June 17. — “In the caravansera there, they were col- 
 lecting straw, &c. for the king, whom they expected in 
 ten days. On this plea, they refused to allow us to un- 
 load there.” 
 
 June 18. — “ Endeavored to get a muleteer to go to the 
 ambassador, but could agree with none, so I determined 
 to stay at Casbin. I had at first intended to go on to 
 Sultania, there to wait for the king.” 
 
 33 
 
386 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 June 20. — Left this place, not a little disgusted at the 
 reception we had met with there. One parasang off, we 
 stopped at a village to get something for breakfast. One 
 of the people there asked a good many questions about 
 our religion. It was such an unusual thing to be travelling 
 coolly, in the middle of the day, in the east, that it pro- 
 duced a new train of ideas : indeed 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 
 counsel.' 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 moun- 
 tains 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 to 
 admit the light, we had need of all* our skins to keep us 
 warm." 
 
 June 21. — On account of the coolness of the weather, 
 we did not think it necessary to start till seven o’clock, 
 after breakfast. Arrived at the village of Aber at four in 
 the afternoon, having taken the shortest route. Till we 
 reached the high and frequented 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." 
 
 June 22. — “Left Sangla at a quarter past five in the 
 morning, and at • a quarter past ten reached Sultania. 
 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 ; — they 
 seemed to delight in the opportunity of humbling an 
 European. Sultania is still but a village ; yet the Zengan 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 387 
 
 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 wait- 
 ing, as for some dreadful disaster : — 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 himself 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 which water- 
 ed the vale. Continued our course to Zengan, a walled city, 
 distant from Sultania six parasangs. Here we found, in 
 the caravansera, large bales of cotton brought by mer- 
 chants from Tehran, intended for Turkey. There were 
 also two Tartar merchants, natives 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 countries they had visited ; but they 
 spoke nothing but Turkish, without which language a per- 
 son 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 piastre. Where are the people 
 
388 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 who flew forth to meet General Malcolm with their purses 
 and their lives ? — Another generation is risen up, ‘ who 
 know not Joseph/ Providentially a poor muleteer, arriv- 
 ing from Tebriz, became security for us, and thus we ob- 
 tained five tomans. This was a heaven-send ; and we lay 
 down quietly, free from apprehensions of being obliged to 
 go a fatiguing journey of eight or ten hours, without a 
 house or village in the way, in our present weak and re- 
 duced 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 would I have exchanged them 
 all for the unfading inheritance.” 
 
 June 27. — My Armenian servant was attacked in the 
 same way. The rest did not get me the things that I 
 wanted, so that I passed the third day in the same exhaust- 
 ed 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 attack- 
 ed in the same way, and lay groaning from pains in the 
 head.” 
 
 June 28. — All were much recovered, but in the after-^ 
 
 noon 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 revelation of mys- 
 teries more sensibly and solemnly. Rain in the night pre- 
 vented 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 389 
 
 disordered thoughts that the fever occasioned, and to keep 
 in mind that all was friendly ; 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 fit, and I almost wished it ; but at this mo- 
 ment, a little after midnight, I was summoned to mount 
 my horse, and set out, rather dead than alive. We moved 
 on six parasangs. We had a thunder-storm with hail.’’ 
 July 1. — A long and tiresome march to Sarehund : 
 in seven parasangs there was no village. They had 
 nothing to sell but buttermilk and bread ; but a servant of 
 Abbas Mirza, happening to be at the same caravansera, 
 sent us some flesh of a mountain-cow, which he had shot 
 the day before. All day I had scarcely the right recollec- 
 tion of myself, from the violence of 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 Media; a most natural boundary 
 it is, as the two rid ores 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 em- 
 bitter my present situation. Soon after removing into the 
 air, I was seized with a violent ague, and in this state I 
 went on till sunrise. At three parasangs and a half, we 
 found a fine caravansera, apparently 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 
 33 * 
 
890 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 down in the shade under it, with two camel-drivers. The 
 cafila, as it happened, forded the river, and passed on,. 
 
 without my perceiving it. Mr. C , seeing no signs of 
 
 me, returned, an.d after looking about for some time, es- 
 pied 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 Bu- 
 shire ; in fact it was no part of the mountain we climbed,, 
 but only a few hills. In a natural opening in the moun^ 
 tains, 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, recov- 
 ering.” 
 
 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 Mianu. Ascending one, and descending another, 
 was the whole of the variety, so that I do not know when 
 we have had a more tiresome day.” 
 
 July 4. — I so far prevailed as to get the cafila into 
 motion at midnight. Lost our way in the night, but arriv- 
 ing at a village were set right again. At eight came to 
 Kilk caravansera, but not stopping there, went on to a vil- 
 lage, 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 things, — want of 
 sleep, want of refreshment, and exposure to the sun, — I was 
 presently in a high fever ; which raged so furiously all the 
 day, that I was nearly delirious, and it was some time be- 
 fore I could get the right recollection of myself. I almost 
 despaired, and do now, of getting alive through this unfor- 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 391 
 
 tunate journey. 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. 
 Oh ! for such sacred hours ! This short and painful 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 pro- 
 ceed 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 de- 
 prived me of reason. In the cool of the evening 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 which road to take, which we soon 
 found end in nothing ; so returning, we tried to induce 
 one of them to serve as a guide, with the promise of any 
 sum of money 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, con- 
 summated 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 procure for 
 us a fine upper room furnished; but when we arrived, 
 they denied that there was any such place ; at last, after 
 
392 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 com- 
 passion 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 ambassador’s.’’ 
 
 By a fever of nearly two months’ continuance, which, 
 during the greater portion of that period, raged with unre- 
 mitting severity, Mr. Martyn was defeated in his intention 
 of presenting in person his translation of the New Testa- 
 ment to the king of Persia and to the prince his son. His 
 disappointment, however, on this occasion was greatly 
 diminished by the kindness of Sir Gore Ouseley, who, 
 together with his lady, was tenderly and assiduously atten^ 
 tive to Mr. Martyn throughout the whole of his illness; 
 and who, in order that nothing might be wanting condu- 
 cive to the favorable acceptance of the New Testament by 
 the king, promised himself to present it at court.'* 
 
 The idea of returning to England, which first occurred 
 to Mr. Martyn at Cawnpore, was, as we have seen, in^- 
 stantly abandoned by him, on its appearing to be the 
 divine will that he should visit Persia. After accomplish- 
 ing his great object in that country, the general state of 
 his health seeming to him to render the measure 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 atmos- 
 phere. 
 
 Happy would it have been, speaking after the manner 
 of men, had he been less precipitate in putting his design 
 in execution ; but, on the tenth day after his recovery, he 
 
 * Sir Gore Ouseley, according to his promise, laid the New Tes- 
 tament before the king, who publicly expressed his approbation of 
 the work. He also carried the MS. to St. Petersburg, where, uu- 
 der his superintendence, it was printed and put into circulation. 
 See Appendix O. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 393 
 
 commenced his journey. What he felt when deprived of 
 health, and what were his sensations when in a consider- 
 able 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 viewing 
 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 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 suffi- 
 ciently 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 inter- 
 ference, 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 sub- 
 ject, Christ appears to me my life and strength ; but at 
 other times, I am thoughtless and bold, as if I had all 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 evermore. I mentioned 
 my conversing sometimes on divine 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 time of our meeting. 
 Do I dream ! that I venture to think and write of such an 
 event as that ? Js it possible that we shall ever meet again 
 
394 
 
 MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 below ? Though it is possible, I dare not indulge such a 
 pleasing hope. 
 
 ‘‘ In three days I intend setting my horse’s head towards 
 Constantinople, distant about one thousand three hundred 
 miles. Nothing, I think, will occasion any further deten- 
 tion here, if I can procure servants who know both Per- 
 sian and Turkish. Ignorant as I am of Turkish, should I 
 be taken ill on the road, my case v/ould be pitiable indeed. 
 The ambassador and his suite are still here ; his and Lady 
 Ouseley’s attentions 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 
 Persian 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 Persians, intro- 
 duced into the country, is a good deal excited 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 circumstances. The way of the kings of the 
 east is preparing : thus much may be said with safety, but 
 little more. The Persians will also probably take the lead 
 in the march to Zion,” 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 MR. MARTYN COMMENCES HIS JOURNEY HOMEWARDS, BY 
 WAY OF CONSTANTINOPLE VISITS ECHMIADZIN SUF- 
 FERS FROM FEVER DIES, AT TOCAT, IN PERSIA VIEW 
 
 OF HIS CHARACTER CONCLUSION. 
 
 With such feeble hopes of reaching England, Mr. Martyn 
 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 intense ; but it ended in 
 heaven. 
 
 Sept. 2. — All things being ready,” he says, ‘‘ I set out 
 on my long journey of one thousand three hundred miles, 
 carrying letters from Sir G. Ouseley, for the governors of 
 Erivan, Cars, and Erzeroom, and the ambassador at Con- 
 stantinople. My party consisted of two Armenian ser- 
 vants, Antoine the groom, and Sergius, who was to accom- 
 pany me all the way to Constantinople, he professing to 
 speak Persian and Turkish, 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 
 Chappar* 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 
 
 * Mr. Martyn, through the friendly interference of the ambassa- 
 dor, travelled with what are termed Chappar Horses; for an ac- 
 count of which see Burder's Oriental Customs ^ p. 260. 
 
396 
 
 MEMOIH OF 
 
 fruit displayed on every stand. At sunset we 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 Mihmander called two 
 parasangs, but which was undoubtedly 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 proceeded towards Sofian. My health being 
 again restored, 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 bounded 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 Mih- 
 mander, looking all around me, and especially towards the 
 distant hills, with gratitude and joy. Oh ! 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 liberty 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 by cattle ; this was done by 
 drawing over it a cylinder armed with blades of a triangu- 
 lar 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 ac- 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 397 
 
 cordingly conducted to a weaver's, where, notwithstanding 
 the musquitoes and other vermin, I passed the night com- 
 fortably 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 proceed- 
 ed 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 ne. The 
 heat oppressed me much, and the road seemed intoler- 
 ably tedious ; at last we got out from amo^^g the moun- 
 tains, and saw the village of Merend, in a fine valley on 
 the right. It was about eleven o’clock when we reach- 
 ed it. As the Mihmander could pot immediately find 
 a place to put me in, we had a complete view of this 
 village. They stared at my European dress, but no dis- 
 respect was shown. I was deposited, at last, with 
 
 Khan, who was seated in a place with three walls. Not 
 at all disposed to pass tl ^"0 day in company, as well as 
 exposed, I asked for anmher room ; on which I was shown 
 to the stable, where t’lere 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 dispirited 
 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 travelled all the way without 
 being sleepy ; and beguiled the hours of the night, by 
 34 
 
398 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 thinking of the 14th 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 
 f^4;iguing one. The air, the road, and my spirits were 
 goo^. Here I was well accommodated, but had to mourn 
 over tny impatient temper towards my servants ; there is 
 nothing that disturbs my peace so much. How much 
 more noblexand godlike to bear with calmness, and observe 
 with pity, raxfier than anger, the failings and offences of 
 others. O that! may, through grace, be enabled to recol- 
 lect myself in the^Ime of temptation ! O that the Spirit of 
 God may check my^Hy^ and, at such times, bring the low- 
 ly Saviour to my view.” 
 
 Sept. 6. — Soon afui- twelve we started with fresh 
 horses, and came to the Aras, or Araxes, distant two 
 parasangs, and about as brohd as the Isis, with a current 
 as strong as that of the Ganges. The ferry-boat being on 
 the other side, I lay down to sleep till it came, but observ- 
 ing my servants do the same, I was obliged to get up and 
 exert myself It dawned, however, f>efore 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 everything that belongs to shipping. We 
 landed safely on the other side in about two minutes. 
 We were four hours in reaching Nakhchevan, 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 399 
 
 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 tp fear ; at last, however, it arriv- 
 ed. 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 travelled till sun- 
 rise. I scarcely perceived that we had been moving, — a 
 Hebrew word in the 16th Psalm having led me gradually 
 into speculations on the eighth conjugation of the Arabic 
 verb. I am glad my philological curiosity is revived, as 
 my mind will be less liable to idleness.’’ 
 
 Sept. 7. — Arrived at Khoik, a poor village distant five 
 and a half parasangs from Nakhchevan, nearly west. I 
 should have mentioned, that on descending into the plain 
 of Nakhchevan, my attention was arrested by the appear- 
 ance of a hoary mountain, opposite to us at the other end, 
 rising so high above the rest that they sunk into insignifi- 
 cance. 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 af- 
 ternoon we set out for Sharoor. The evening was pleas- 
 ant ; the ground over which we passed was full of rich cul- 
 tivation and verdure, watered by many a stream, and con- 
 taining forty villages, most of them with the usual appen- 
 dage 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 sacrifices ; 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, out- 
 
400 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ride the istorm of life, and land at last on one of the ever- 
 lasting hills ! 
 
 Night coming on, we lost our way, and got intercepted 
 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, wetted the linen, and spoiled 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 extricate ourselves from 
 the ravines with which this village is surrounded. Procur- 
 ing 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 Nakhchevan, 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.” 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 401 
 
 Sept. 10. — All day at the village, writing down notes 
 on the 15th and 16th Psalm. Moved at midnight and ar- 
 rived early in the morning at Erivan.” 
 
 Sept. 11. — I alighted at Hosyn Khan, the governor’s 
 palace, as it may be called, for he seems to live in a style 
 equal to that of a prince. Indeed, commanding a fortress 
 on the frontier, within six hours of the Russians, he is in- 
 trusted with a considerable force, and is nearly indepen- 
 dent of the Shah. After sleeping two hours, I was sum- 
 moned to his presence. He at 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 respect- 
 fully 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 ^ened and 
 read by a Moonshee. He heard with great interest what 
 Sir Gore had written about the translation of the Gospels. 
 After this he was very kind and attentive, and sent for 
 
 ‘Lieutenant M of the engineers, 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 : below the window, at a great depth, ran a 
 broad and rapid stream, over rocks and stones, under a 
 bridge of two arches, producing an agreeable murmur : on 
 the other side of the river were gardens, and a rich plain ; 
 and directly in front, Ararat. He was now entirely free 
 from ceremony, but too much fatigued to converse. I 
 tried to begin a religious discussion, by observing that ‘ he 
 was in one paradise now, and was in quest of another 
 hereafter,’ but this remark produced no effect. He order- 
 34 # 
 
402 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 ed 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 accord- 
 ing to my order, I rode alone, and found my way to Ech- 
 miadzin (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 Arme- 
 nian 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, 6lc. and Sera- 
 fino with them. As he spoke English, French, and Ital- 
 ian, I had no difficulty in communicating with my hosts. 
 After breakfast, Serafino showed me the room appointed 
 for me, and sat down and told me his story. His proper 
 name, in Armenian, is Serope ; he was born at Erzeroom, 
 of Armenian 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 perfectly Eu- 
 ropeanized. At eighteen or twenty he left 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 Echmiadzin, 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 exerting himself to extend his influence 
 in the monastery, 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 403 
 
 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 management 
 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 member 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 cannot 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 Tiflis. Nerses, on the contrary, consider- 
 ing that Echmiadzin is the spot appointed by heaven, 
 according to a vision of 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 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 Arme- 
 nian, tending to enlighten the people with regard to reli- 
 gion, in order to introduce a reform. I said all I could to 
 encourage him in such a blessed work; promising him 
 every aid from the English, and proving to him, from the 
 example of Luther and the other European 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 tidings of a Saviour were never pro- 
 claimed. 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 
 
404 
 
 IMEMOIR OF 
 
 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 seemed 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 themselves, and seldom dine in 
 the hall ; where coarseness, both of meals and manners, too 
 much prevails.” 
 
 Sept. 13 — I asked Serope about the 16th 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 con- 
 sisted in protestations of sincere attachment, in expres- 
 sions of his hopes of deliverance from the Mohammedan 
 yoke, and inquiries about my translations of the Scrip- 
 tures ; 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 patriarch, 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 405 
 
 Mohammedans as arbitrators. There is no difficulty, 
 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 travelling in Turkey. All my heavy and 
 expensive preparations at T ebriz prove to be incumbrances, 
 which must be left behind : my trunks 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 gentleman ; 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 sw^ord, but 
 it was determined that he was unfit for the journey ; so a 
 brave and trusty man of the monastery, named Melcom, 
 was appointed in his stead, and he had arms of his own ; — 
 he speaks nothing but Turkish.” 
 
 Sept. 16. — conversed again with Serope on his 
 projected reformation. As he was invited to Echmiadzin 
 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 mid- 
 night 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 neighbor- 
 hood of Erivan, and were originally singing-boys ; into 
 such hands is this rich and powerful foundation fallen, 
 They have no vows upon them but those of celibacy,’’ 
 
 The hospitable and benevolent conduct of the interest- 
 ing society at Echmiadzin,* made a deep impression upon 
 the feeling mind of their guest ; — received by them as a 
 
 * For the interest the Armenians excite in a missionary point of 
 view, see Dr. Buchanan’s Christian Researches. Also Appendix P. 
 
406 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 brother, he left them with sentiments of fraternal regard, 
 and no doubt his heart swelled with grateful recollections 
 of peculiar strength, when the kindness he had experienced 
 in the bosom of an Armenian 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. Martyn 
 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 interceded, 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 duila Gazki, about six parasangs from 
 Echmiadzin. 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 off 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 undressed 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 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 ; however, 
 he was friendly enough. He had, however, nearly 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 407 
 
 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 chanted 
 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 morning, 
 and as the stage was reputed to be very dangerous, owing 
 to the vicinity of the famous Cara Beg, my Mihmander 
 took three armed men from the village in addition to the 
 one we brought from Erivan. We continued going along, 
 through the pass, two or three parasangs, 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 champaign country below; but dale followed 
 dale, apparently 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, however, 
 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 village presented a singu- 
 lar 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 Christiy 
 and rice. This is the first village in Turkey ; not a Per- 
 sian cap was to be seen ; the respectable people wore a 
 
408 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 red Turkish cap. The great man of the village paid me 
 a visit ; he was a young Mussulman, and took care of all 
 my Mussulman attendants ; but he left me and my Arme- 
 nians where he found us, at the house of an Armenian, 
 without 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 we 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 v/as apprehended ; it was, 
 indeed, dismally solitary all around. The appearance 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 reconnoitre : but all there was as silent as the 
 grave. At last, after travelling 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 perceived. 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, however, we came to a parley. They were 
 Armenians, bringing wood from Cars to their village in 
 the mountain: 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 409 
 
 Struck me that this, probably, was the mode of fighting of 
 the ancient Parthians, which made them so terrible in 
 flight. Presently after these gambols, the appearance of 
 some poor countrymen with their carts put i^to their 
 heads another kind of sport; for knowing, from the ill 
 fame of the spot, that we should easily be taken for rob- 
 bers, 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 dis- 
 pleased, and made signs to him not to do it. I then told 
 them all, as we quietly pursued our course, that such kind 
 of sport was not allowed in England : they said it was the 
 Persian custom. We arrived at length at Ghanikew, 
 having ridden 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 saw 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 short- 
 est 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 agreeable 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 
 35 
 
410 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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 which were cushions. As 
 soon as the pacha was visible, the chief Armenian of Cars, 
 to whom I had a letter from bishop Nerses, his relation, 
 waited upon him on my business. On looking over my 
 letters of recommendation from Sir Gore Ouseley, I found 
 there was none for Abdalla, the pacha of Cars; how- 
 ever, 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 
 determined 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 everything 
 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 with 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 Tartar ordered a great fire to be made. In this room 
 I 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 411 
 
 hour of eating approached. It was evident that the Tartar 
 was the great man here : he took the best place for him- 
 self; a dinner of four or five dishes was laid before him, 
 When I asked for eggs, they brought me rotten ones ; for but- 
 ter, 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, ex- 
 cept 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 fright- 
 ened 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 magni- 
 ficence 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 Armenian’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 
 toi Moosh, where John the Baptist is supposed to be buried,. 
 
412 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 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, in- 
 tended, 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 children, in carts and carriages, returning 
 from a pilgrimage 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 was surprised to see so strong a fort 
 and so large a town. From thence we were five hours 
 and a half reaching the entrance of Erzeroom. All was 
 busy and moving in the streets and shops ; — crowds pass- 
 ing along. Those who caught a sight of us were at a loss 
 to define me. My Persian attendants, and the lower part 
 of my dress, made me appear Persian ; but the rest of the 
 dress was new, for those only who had travelled knew it 
 to be European. They were not disposed, I thought, to 
 be civil ; but the two persons 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 413 
 
 was attacked with fever and ague: the Tartar’s son was 
 also taken ill, and obliged to return.” 
 
 Sept. 30. — ‘‘Travelled first to Ash Kulaah, where we 
 changed horses, and from thence to Purnugaban, where 
 w'e halted for the night. I took nothing ail 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 steadfast,’ w-hich, 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 of 
 grace, as a sinful, abject worm. When I thought of my- 
 self and my transgressions, I could find no text so cheer- 
 ing 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 w^as for once riveted 
 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 w^e 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 coflTee-room. 
 As soon as it began to grow a little cold, the ague came 
 on, and then the fever : after which I had a sleep, which 
 let me know too plainly the disorder of my frame. In the 
 night, Hassan sent to summon me away, but I was quite 
 unable to move. Finding me still in bed at the dawn, he 
 began to. storm furiously at my detaining him so long ; but 
 35 * 
 
414 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 1 quietly let him spend his ire, ate«my breakfast com- 
 posedly, and set out at eight. He seemed determined to 
 make up for the delay, for we flew over hill and dale to 
 Sheheran, where he changed horses^ From thence we 
 travelled 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 trying ; I hardly 
 knew how to keep my life in me. About 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 mercifully pleased to alleviate my bodily suffer- 
 ing, I went on contentedly to the menzil, where we ar- 
 rived 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. H^ begged that I would shelter 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 further.’ 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 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 415 
 
 himself to get a place for me. They brought me t6 an 
 open 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 V 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 planted 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 luggage, 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 distant, I reached it 
 without much difficulty. 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 w^ell lodged, and felt tolerably well till a little after 
 sunset, when the ague came on wdth a violence I had 
 never before experienced : I felt as if in a palsy ; my teeth 
 chattering, and my whole frame violently shaken. Aga 
 Hosyn and another Persian, on their way here from 
 Constantinople, 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. While they pitied me, Hassan sat in perfect 
 indifference, ruminating on the further delay this was 
 likely to occasion. The cold fit, after continuing two or 
 three hours, was followed by a fever, w^hich lasted the 
 whole night, and prevented sleep.’’ 
 
 Oct. 6. — ‘‘ No horses being to be had, I had an unex- 
 pected repose. I sat in the orchard, and thought, with 
 
416 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 sweet comfort and peace, of my God ; in solitude, my com- 
 pany, my friend and comforter. Oh ! when shall time give 
 place to eternity ! When shall appear that new heaven 
 and new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness! There, 
 there shall in no wise enter in anything that defileth : none 
 of that wickedness 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 
 any more 
 
 Scarcely had Mr. Martyn breathed these aspirations 
 after that state of blissful purity, for which he had attained 
 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 
 ofGod.’^ 
 
 At Tocat, on the 16th of October, 1812, either falling 
 a sacrifice to the plague, which then raged there, or, sink- 
 ing under that disorder which, when he penned his last 
 words, had so greatly reduced him, he surrendered his soul 
 into the hands of his Redeemer.* 
 
 The peculiar circumstances as well as the particular 
 period of his death, could not fail of greatly aggravating 
 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 usefulness, and he died 
 whilst 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 something, also, deeply affecting in the con- 
 sideration, that where he sunk into his grave, men were 
 strangers to him and to his God. No friendly hand was 
 
 * Mr. Martyn, as it has since been supposed with great probabili- 
 ty, died of the plague. We have inserted in the Notes, Appendix 
 Q., some interesting letters written on the spot, by the Rev. Eli 
 Smith andH. G. O. Dwight, American missionaries^. E. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 417 
 
 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 of 
 languishing. Pauciorihus lacrymis compositus e5,* * * § — was 
 a sentiment to which the feelings of nature and friendship 
 responded ; yet the painful reflection could not be admit- 
 ted, — In novissimd luce desideravere aliquid oculi tui,f 
 The Saviour, doubtless, was with His servant in his last 
 conflict, and he with Him the instant it terminated. 
 
 So richly was the mind of Mr. Martyn 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,f we honored him ; — we loved him ; — we thanked 
 God for him ; — we prayed for his longer 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 de- 
 scribing more particularly his intellectual endowments, — 
 
 combined in himself certain valuable but distinct quali- 
 ties, seldom found together in the same individual. The 
 easy triumphs of a rapid genius over first difficulties never 
 
 * 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. 
 
418 
 
 MMOIR OF 
 
 left him satisfied with present attainments. His mind, 
 which naturally ranged over a wide field of human knowl- 
 edge, lost nothing of depth in its expansiveness. He was 
 one of those few persons whose reasoning faculty does not 
 suffer from their imagination, nor their imagination from 
 their reasoning faculty ; both, in him, were fully exercised, 
 and were of a very high order. His mathematical acqui- 
 sitions clearly 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 conclu- 
 sion that poetry and the classics were his predominant 
 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 suffering for his name’s 
 sake ! By this, he could behold blossoms 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 countenance. Having listened to 
 that tender and overwhelming interrogation of his Saviour, 
 ‘‘Lovest thou me?” his love was fervently exercised 
 towards God and man, at all times, and in all places! 
 For it was not like Uie land-spring, which runs violently 
 for a season, and then ceases ; but resembled the fountain 
 which flows with a perennial stream from the recesses of 
 the rock. His fear of God and tenderness of conscience, 
 and watchfulness over his own heart, could scarcely be 
 surpassed in this state of sinful infirmity. But it was his 
 humility that was most remarkable : — this might be con- 
 sidered as the warp of which the entire texture of his 
 piety was composed ; and with this his other Christian 
 graces were so intimately blended, as to beautify and 
 adorn his whole demeanor. It was, in truth, the accord- 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 419 
 
 ance and consent of various Christian attainments in Mr. 
 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 patriarch’s 
 of old, by the most awful 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 dis- 
 cordance 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 before 
 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 zeal. He combin- 
 ed, also, ardor with prudence ; gravity with cheerfulness ; 
 abstraction from the world with an enjoyment of its lawful 
 gratifications. His extreme tenderness of conscience was 
 devoid of scrupulosity ; his activity in good works was 
 joined to habits of serious contemplation ; his religious 
 affections, which were highly spiritualized, exceeded not 
 the limits 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 declen- 
 
420 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 sion, 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 contradictory, 
 qualities, were not imparted to him but by the Spirit of 
 God, so they were not strengthened and matured 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 ‘ trans- 
 formed by the renewing of his mind,’ he was also ever 
 ‘ proving 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 endless state of spiritual 
 enjoyment hereafter. 
 
 By ^ daily weighing the Scriptures,’ with prayer, he 
 ‘ waxed riper and riper in his ministry,’ in the execution 
 of which divine office there was in him an astonishing 
 determination of soul for the glory of his Saviour, who 
 ‘ allowed him to be put in trust with the Gospel.’ Of the 
 exceeding privileges of his holy function, and of its awful 
 responsibility, he had the most vivid impression ; and such 
 was his jealousy of omitting any duty connected with it, 
 that he deemed the work of translating the Scriptures 
 themselves no justifiable 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 anxious to promote the honor of his Redeemer, by 
 preaching his Gospel. This, indeed, was the great end 
 for which existence seemed desirable in his eyes ; to effect 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 421 
 
 which he spent much time in preparing his discourses for 
 the pulpit ; investigating the subject before him with pro- 
 found meditation, and perpetual supplication to the Father 
 of Lights. Utilis lectio — utilis eruditio — sed magis unctio 
 necessaria^ quippe quce docet de omnibus^ — were the sen- 
 timents of his heart. When, 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 besought 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, immortal, could listen 
 to his preaching unmoved. In the delivery of his dis- 
 courses, his natural manner was not good ; there being a 
 defect in his enunciation ; this, however, was more than 
 compensated by the solemnity, 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 doctrines of the Gospel ; so likewise all doctri- 
 nal points were declared practically, with a view to self- 
 application, rather than to disquisition. No one, as it re- 
 garded all doctrine, could enter more completely into the 
 spirit of those words, both for himself and others : — Malo 
 sentire compunctionem qudm scire ejus dejinitionemA 
 
 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 conscious that it 
 is ‘ God that giveth the increase and when he did not 
 see, or thought he did not see, that increase, he meekly 
 
 * St. Bernard. — Reading is useful, learning is useful, but unction 
 is far more necessary, because it gives instruction in regard to all 
 points. 
 
 t I had rather feel compunction than know how to define it. 
 
 36 
 
422 
 
 MEMOIR OF 
 
 submitted to the divine will, and patiently continued in 
 well doing. At such times, also, more particularly, would 
 he turn, with joyful thankfulness, 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 temper 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 sympathize 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 character,” says one 
 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 coun- 
 try, I had no less than six opportunities of enjoying his com- 
 pany ; 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 
 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 vernacular 
 language of two hundred thousand who bear the Christian 
 name, and known over one fourth of the habitable globe. 
 
 The Rev. D. Corrie, Archdeacon of Calcutta. 
 
HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 423 
 
 By him, also, the imposture of the prophet of Mecca waS 
 boldly exposed, and the truths of Christianity openly vin- 
 dicated in the very heart and centre 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 witness, 
 in the hearts of those who heard him in Europe and in 
 Asia. Above forty adults and twenty children of the 
 Hindoos have received Christian baptism, — all of whom, 
 with the exception of a single individual, were converted 
 by the instrumentality of one man,* who was himself the 
 fruit of Mr. Martyn’s ministry at Cawnpore. At Shiraz 
 a sensation has been excited, which, it is trusted, will not 
 readily subside ; and some Mohammedans of consequence 
 there have declared their conviction of the truth of Chris- 
 tianity ; — a conviction which Mr. Martyn was the means 
 of imparting to their minds.t But when it is considered, 
 that the Persian and Hindoostanee Scriptures are in wide 
 and extensive circulation, who can ascertain the conse- 
 quences which may have already followed, or foresee what 
 may hereafter accrue, from their dispersion ? In this re- 
 spect it is not perhaps 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 vitae.” — Luc ret. t 
 
 Nor is the example which he has left behind him to be 
 
 * Abdool Messeeh. See Appendix R. 
 
 t For some interesting notices of the effect of Mr. Martyn’s la- 
 bors in Persia, see Appendix S. 
 
 t From whom even now the sweet solaces of life diffused through 
 mighty nations, soothe the passions of men. 
 
424 
 
 MEMOIR OF MARTYN. 
 
 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 pilgrimage upon earth. For surely as 
 long as England shall be celebrated for that pure and 
 apostolical church, of which he was so great an ornament; 
 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 not wholly be forgotten ; and whilst some 
 shall delight to gaze upon the splendid sepulchre of Xavier, 
 and others choose rather to ponder 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 unfre- 
 quented grave of Henry Martyn, and be led to imitate 
 those works of mercy, which have followed him into the 
 world of light and love. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 [ A. p. 83. ] 
 
 Rev. William Carey ^ D. D. 
 
 Dr. Carey never enjoyed the benefits of an early educa- 
 tion. Bred to a laborious mechanical employment, he was 
 compelled to struggle against numerous and severe adversities 
 in attaining that distinguished sphere of usefulness in which he 
 has long moved. In 1787,, he was ordained to the work of the 
 ministry, in the Baptist Church, at Moulton, England. Before 
 this time, the wretched condition of the heathen nations had 
 excited his warm sympathy, and had prompted him to seek an 
 acquaintance with the geography,, population and religion of 
 the various nations of the earth. He had, also, acquired con- 
 siderable knowledge of various languages.. At the meeting 
 of the Baptist Convention, in Nottingham, in 1792, Mr. Carey 
 preached a sermon from Isaiah liv.. 2, 3, and took up what he 
 conceived to be the spirit of the text, in two exhortations, 
 
 EXPECT GREAT THINGS ; ATTEMPT GREAT THINGS. This WaS 
 
 an earnest and powerful appeal. In October, 1792, the “Par- 
 ticular Baptist Society, for Propagating the Gospel among the 
 Heathen,” was formed. On the 20th of March, 1793, Mr. 
 Carey and Mr. John Thomas were solemnly designated as 
 missionaries to the heathen. They set sail for India on the 
 13th of June. In consequence of the failure of the investment 
 which was taken out for their immediate support, Mr. Carey 
 and his family were left entirely destitute^ In this extremity, 
 he took the superintendence of an indigo factory at Mudna- 
 batty, and declined receiving any further assistance fromi 
 36 * 
 
426 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 England, though his circumstances afterwards induced him to 
 ^PP^y for aid. In the mean time, in conjunction with his 
 brethren, he gave himself to the work of translations with 
 great diligence. In 1805, 1,000 guineas were sent from Eng- 
 land towards defraying the cost of the translations at Seram- 
 pore. An equal sum was given by the friends of the object in 
 the United States. 
 
 Dr. Carey is now [1832] about 73 years old. Mr. Leslie, a 
 Baptist missionary, thus describes his appearance : — 
 
 “ Dr. Carey is a very equable and cheerful old man. Next 
 to his translations, botany is his grand study. He has col- 
 lected every plant and tree in his garden, that will possibly 
 grow in India, — and is so scientific, withal, as to call every 
 thing by its classical name. We had tlie pleasure of hearing 
 him preach from Romans vii. 13, when he gave us an excellent 
 sermon. In manner he is very animated, and in style very 
 methodical. Indeed, he carries method into every thing he 
 does : classification is his grand hohhy and wherever any- 
 thing can be classified, there you find Dr. Carey : not only 
 does he arrange the roots of plants and v/ords, but visit his 
 dwelling, and you find he has fitted and classified shelves full 
 of minerals, stones, shells, and cages full of birds. He is of 
 very easy access and great familiarity. His attachments are 
 strong, and extend not merely to persons but places. Some 
 time ago, so much of the house in which he had lived fell 
 down, that he had to leave it; — at which he wept bitterly. One 
 morning, he was relating to us an anecdote of the excellent 
 John Thornton, at the remembrance of whom, tears filled liis 
 eyes. It is an affecting sight to see the venerable man 
 weep.” 
 
 Though some critics have endeavored to undervalue the 
 translations at Serainpore, yet by the most accomplished 
 judges, a meed of strong approbation has been awarded. Dr. 
 Marsh, the learned Bishop of Peterborough, says, that “ the 
 missionaries are best qualified to complete what they have so 
 nobly and successfully begun.” Bishop Heber says, that it 
 is impossible not to respect and admire them. Translations 
 of the whole Bible have long been completed in several of the 
 more important languages of India ; and the word of life is 
 now becoming, by the instrumentality of these venerable men, 
 the wisdom of God to the salvation of many. E. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 427 
 
 [ B. p. 88. }. 
 
 Dr. Vanderkemp. 
 
 Dr. Vanderkemr was a native of Holland. He studied at 
 the universities of Leyden and Edinburgh ; and having, in his 
 youth, chosen the army for his profession, he attained the rank 
 of captain of horse. After being sixteen years in the service of 
 the Prince of Orange, and having attained the highest promotion 
 within his reach, a personal misunderstanding with the Prince, 
 with whom he was intimate, induced him to resign his com- 
 mission, and to make choice of another profession. He obtain- 
 ed the degree of M, D. at Edinburgh, and established himself 
 at Middleburgh, Holland, as a physician. His high reputation 
 procured him an extensive practice. On the breaking out of 
 the French revolution, he was appointed surgeon-general of 
 the forces of the Prince of Orange. The writings which he 
 has left, show him to have been an accomplished scholar, and 
 his attainments in science appear to have been equal to his 
 acquirements in literature. But he had, unhappily, imbibed 
 all the infidel errors of the German philosophy. A dreadful 
 domestic calamity — the upsetting of a boat, by which his own 
 life was placed in the greatest jeopardy, and his wife and child 
 were drowned — was the means, of producing an entire change 
 in his sentiments and conduct. A desire to be useful to his 
 fellow creatures took full possession of his mind. An address 
 published by the directors of the London Missionary Society 
 induced him to offer himself as a missionary. He was ad- 
 vanced in years, had retired from the duties of his profession, 
 and was possessed of a good property.. He sailed for South 
 Africa in December, 1798.. He here labored with great energy 
 and intelligence till December 7, 1811, when he was called up to 
 the joy of his Lord. "When asked, on his dying bed, what was 
 the state of his mind, his emphatic reply was, ‘‘ All is well.” 
 Is it light or dark with you ? “ Light ! ” He was certainly,” 
 
 says the Rev. Dr. Philip, from whose researches the preceding 
 facts are taken, “ one of the most extraordinary characters of 
 his age. He could read and write in sixteen different lan- 
 guages. He had also great metaphysical acuteness. When 
 
428 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 between fifty and sixty years of age, he could master the first 
 principles of any language to which he applied himself, in the 
 course of three or four months. His knowledge of natural 
 history and of mathematics would have enabled him to have 
 done honor to a professorship in any branch of those sciences 
 in any of the universities of Europe. To his missionary work, 
 he brought courage, zeal, incorruptible integrity, and great 
 weight of character.” 
 
 [C.p. 137.] 
 
 Christian Frederick Swartz. 
 
 Swartz was born in Sonnenburg, in Brandenburg, Germany, 
 Oct. 26, 1726. His mother, on her death-bed, declared, that 
 she had devoted her son to the Lord, and exacted a promise 
 from her husband and her father, that they would not oppose 
 his inclinations, if he should be disposed to study divinity^ 
 When he was eight years of age, Swartz often sought after 
 solitude, and found much comfort in pouring out his heart to 
 God ; and when he had done anything wrong, he was not able 
 to rest till he had implored pardoning mercy. In 1746, he 
 travelled to Halle, where he attended on the instructions of 
 the University. Here he became established in the faith of 
 the Lord Jesus, and earnestly desired to give himself, soul and 
 body, to the service of his Saviour. 
 
 About that time, preparations were making to print the 
 Tamul, at Plalle, and young Swartz was selected to learn the 
 language. The pains he took induced Professor Francke 
 to propose to him the work of a missionary. He obeyed the 
 call. Having obtained his father’s consent, he was sent to 
 India, under the sanction of the Danish Mission College. He 
 arrived at Tranquebar, on the 30th of July, 1750. Here he la- 
 bored, for some years, with his colleagues. In 1766, a new 
 mission was established at Trichinopoly, over which Mr. 
 Swartz was called to preside. In 1772, Mr. S. visited Tan- 
 jore, and had several interesting conversations on the subject 
 of religion, particularly witli the king, in the presence of the 
 
APPENDIX, 
 
 Bralunins. The heatlien were now becoming' very inquisitive 
 in regard to Christianity. Witli all ranks of people this man 
 of God was accustomed to converse freely, and many were 
 brought to embrace the truth. He took unwearied pains witli 
 his assistant catechists. He daily assembled all who were not on 
 stations too far distant, and instructed them how to explain tlie 
 truths of Christianity, in a mild and winning manner, joining 
 with them in prayer. In tlie evening, they returned and gave 
 an account of their labors. In 177V>, he performed a noble 
 service in behalf of the government^ by visiting Hyder Ally, 
 long the formidable enemy of the English. Mr. Swartz re- 
 mained three months in the country, perfiwmed his mission to 
 tlie acceptance of his employers, and declared to many individ- 
 uals the knowledge of tlie Saviour. 
 
 Mr. Swartz died on the Eltli of February, 170^, in the 
 seventy-second year of his age. All classes and ranks of 
 men joined in the most unatfected sorrow at his death. The 
 native prince called him “ the fatlier, tlie friend, the protector, 
 tlie guide of his youtli, the great and good man.” The Court 
 of Directors of the East India Compmiy erected a beautiful 
 marble monument to his memory, on which they recorded, in 
 most emphatic and affecting language, tlieir sense of his trans- 
 cendent worth. In tliis expression of high veneration for his 
 character, the Madras government most cordially concurred. 
 In the midst of a bloody and vindictive war witli the Carnatic, 
 Hyder Ally sent orders to his officers to pennit the venerable 
 Father Swartz to pass unmolested, and show him respect and 
 kindness, for he is a holy man, and means no harm to my gov- 
 ernment.” 
 
 The fruits of his labors were most ample and encouraging. 
 India, in all coming time, will have occasion to remember him 
 as one of her greatest benefactors. By means of the mission 
 of Swartz and his associates, Dr. Carey estimated tliat more 
 than 40,000 individuals were converted to the Cliristimi taith : 
 Dr. Buchanan reckoned them at 80,000. In tliese interesting 
 regions there has recently been a wonderful revival of religion. 
 In January, 18‘^>, in tlie single district of Tiiinevelly, more 
 than 20,000 individuals had renounced heatlienism. E. 
 
430 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 [ D. p. 169. ] 
 
 The flight of Mohammed forms the Mohammedan era, called 
 the Hegira, and took place on Friday, the 16th day of July, 
 A. D. 622. The following are some of the circumstances. 
 The death of Abu Taleb, the uncle of Mohammed, who had 
 protected his person, while he had opposed his principles, left 
 him completely exposed to the designs of his persecutors ; 
 and his uncle’s successor being a declared enemy of the fami- 
 ly, an attempt was made to exterminate the rising sect, by 
 taking away the life of its founder. The plot having been 
 divulged, Mohammed, and his friend, Abu Beker, made their 
 escape during the night, while the devoted Ali, in the green 
 robe of the prophet, took his place on his bed, and awaited, 
 but appeased, the wrath of the murderers. The two fugitives, 
 after concealing themselves three days in a cave, made their 
 way, in a perilous journey, along the coast, to Koba in the 
 vicinity of Medina; and on the following day the impostor 
 was carried into that city in triumph, by 500 of its richest 
 inhabitants, who had before this time become his devoted 
 admirers. Here he assumed the sacerdotal and regal office ; 
 and proclaimed his authority by a new revelation from heaven, 
 granting liberty of conscience, or rather exemption from de- 
 struction, only on the condition of a heavy pecuniary tribute. 
 He stimulated the courage of his followers, by preaching the 
 strictest predestinarianism, and assuring every man of infalli- 
 ble safety till his appointed and unavoidable hour. He excited 
 their cupidity by directing that the spoil, with the exception 
 of one fifth, should be faithfully distributed among the soldiers. 
 He gratified their sensuality, by giving up to their possession 
 the female captives ; and he roused their religious enthusiasm, 
 by the assurance of a martyr’s crown to every individual who 
 should fall in battle. In this way he established his religion 
 of imposture, lust, and blood. 
 
 In chronology and history, as well as in all documents, the 
 Mohammedans use months of thirty and twenty-nine days, 
 alternately, making the year thus to consist of 354 days : 
 eleven times in thirty years, one day is added to the last 
 month, making 355 days in that year. The year in common 
 reckoning is purely lunar, consisting of twelve months, each 
 
APPENmX. 
 
 431 
 
 month commencing with the appearance of the new moon, 
 without any intercalation to bring the commencement of each 
 year to the same season.* E. 
 
 [ E. p. 193. ] 
 
 Rev. David Brown. 
 
 The Rev. David Brown was born in Yorkshire, England, in 
 1763. From his early youth he was distinguished for a reli- 
 gious turn of mind, an amiable disposition, and a thirst for 
 knowledge. He resided for some time under the tuition 
 of an excellent friend at Scarborough. He was afterwards 
 removed to the grammar school at Hull, under the care of 
 the Rev. Joseph Milner. Mr. Milner became much attached 
 to his pupil ; and while that good man lived, Mr. Brown con- 
 tinued to consult the judgment, and confide in the experience 
 and piety of his tutor. Mr. Brown proceeded to the Univer- 
 sity of Cambridge, and was entered at Magdalen College, 
 where he prosecuted the usual studies preparatory to enter- 
 ing into the church. The following extract was found among 
 the papers of Mr. Brown, after his decease, “ Thy goodness, 
 like the sun, dawned on my early days : a godly grandfather, 
 who poured out prayers for me ; parents, who attended to the 
 instructions given them by the ministers of God ; mercies all 
 flowing from my God.” 
 
 In February, 1785, he was invited to take charge of an 
 orphan asylum in Bengal. He was at first disinclined to lis- 
 ten to the proposal, deeming it to be his duty to finish his 
 regular studies ; but on the advice of his friends, he concluded 
 to accept the invitation. Mr. Brown was ordained by the 
 Bishop of Llandaff in February, 1785. The Society for Pro- 
 moting Christian Knowledge elected him a corresponding 
 member, and recommended him to the Directors of the East 
 India Company, who with great liberality advanced 300 guineas 
 for his outfit. Mr. Brown sailed for India, on the 15th of 
 
 * See the New Edinburgh Encyclopaedia on the life of Mohammed 5 and 
 the Introduction to the Companion for the British Almanac, 1830. 
 
432 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 November, 1785. In June, 1786, he arrived at Calcutta, and 
 immediately took up his residence at the Orphan Establish- 
 ment. He very soon commenced efforts for a mission to the 
 natives, and for translating the Scriptures. In 1787, Mr. 
 Charles Grant purchased a mission church of the Christian 
 Knowledge Society, and Mr. Brown undertook, in addition to 
 his other duties, to officiate in it. He, however, soon left the 
 Orphan Establishment. He continued to apply himself assidu- 
 ously to the study of the native languages, with the view of 
 translating them. In 1800, Mr. Brown was appointed Provost 
 of the college of Fort William — a situation which he con- 
 tinued to hold till the college was reduced. The following 
 extract of a letter to an early friend will show the spirit by 
 which he was actuated. “Jesus Christ, and him crucified, 
 has been my almost only theme, since I entered the ministry ; 
 and I have witnessed the power of the name of Jesus on the 
 hearts of several in this country, some of whom sleep in him.” 
 It was the peculiar office of Mr. Brown, in the college, to 
 teach the Christian religion to the junior servants of the 
 company. Mr. Brown was not a popular preacher, but he was 
 remarkable for a deeply serious and impressive manner. On 
 the reduction of the college in 1806, Mr. Brown saw a new 
 sphere of usefulness in the formation of the Bible and Church 
 Missionary Societies. He considered the rising of the Bible 
 Society in Britain as forming a grand era in the history of 
 Christianity. Early in 1812, he was attacked by the severe 
 illness which terminated his eminently useful life, on the 14th 
 of June, and in the forty-ninth year of his age. He manifested 
 the most entire resignation to the will of God, and breathed 
 his soul calmly into the hands of his Redeemer. The rever- 
 ence and esteem, in which the character of Mr. Brown was 
 held, was strikingly manifested on his death. A funeral ser- 
 mon was preached at each of the churches. His record is on 
 high. His name is added to that illustrious constellation of 
 martyrs, of whom India and the world were not worthy. E. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 433 
 
 [F. p. 230.] 
 
 East India Company. 
 
 The first East India Company was chartered by the Crown, 
 in 1600. It became a joint stock association in 1612. In 
 course of time, private traders, questioning the legality of a 
 charter not confirmed by Parliament, ventured to interfere 
 with their commerce, and exposed them, towards the end of 
 the seventeenth century, to the losses attendant on a formi- 
 dable competition. In 1701, the charter having expired, the 
 public saw the unusual occurrence of two joint stock compa- 
 nies pursuing the same branch of commerce. In 1708, they 
 were consolidated into one company, under their present name ; 
 and in 1711, the competition of private traders was finally re- 
 moved. Soon after the middle of the last century, this com- 
 pany gradually augmented their dividend from 6 to 10 per 
 cent. In 1677, Government laying claim to their territorial 
 revenue, as the property of the Crown, the Company bargained 
 for its retention by agreeing to pay Government the sum 
 of £400,000 a year. The most flattering accounts of their 
 finances were exhibited ; but unfortunately their debts still con- 
 tinued on the increase. Great disorders prevailed in the 
 management of their India affairs ; and the expense of a war 
 with Hyder Ally reduced them to the necessity of applying 
 to Government for aid. Since that time, various wars, together 
 with the disadvantages attending a joint stock company, have 
 gone far to reduce their affairs into a situation, in which most 
 companies have been obliged to make their exit. Government, 
 appreciating the utility of many of their institutions in India, 
 as well as desirous of avoiding a shock to public credit, have 
 conducted the business with much delicate attention to the 
 Company. The internal administration of India, and the China 
 trade, have been left in their possession. 
 
 The present charter was given in 1813; and it will expire 
 in 1833. The proprietors of East India stock consist of about 
 3,000 persons. A proprietor of £1,000 stock is entitled to one 
 vote ; of £2,000 to two votes ; of £3,000 to three votes ; of 
 £10,000 and upwards, to four votes. The value of their ex- 
 ports to China, in 1829, was £863,494. The gro;;^s produce of 
 37 
 
434 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 the tea sold was £4,254,000. From 1814 to 1826, there were 
 sent out to India, 3,174 cadets ; in 1828, 77 writers, 357 cadets, 
 and 59 assistant surgeons. Lord William C. Bentinck is Gov- 
 ernor General of India ; Earl of Dalhousie, Commander in 
 Chief ; Sir Charles Grey, Chief Justice ; Daniel Wilson, D. D., 
 Bishop of Calcutta. 
 
 The time for the renewal of the charter, in 1834, is anticipat- 
 ed with great interest, by the friends of India, as opening the 
 way for the introduction of more extensive religious privileges 
 to the inhabitants of those populous regions. E. 
 
 [ G. p. 264. ] 
 
 Nathaniel Sahat, 
 
 In consequence of the account given by Dr. Buchanan 
 and others, great interest was excited in the Christian world, 
 in behalf of Sahat, and the noble Abdallah, his former com- 
 panion, who witnessed a good confession, and laid down his 
 life for the name of the Lord Jesus. The fears entertained 
 by Mr. Martyn in regard to Sahat were mournfully realized. 
 In the beginning of 1816, he publicly abjured Christianity, 
 and wrote in defence of Mohammedanism. In this book, 
 he declared that he became a convert only to comprehend 
 and expose the doctrines of Christianity, interspersing through 
 the pages of his work, intemperate abuse of many respectable 
 gentlemen who had been his benefactors. He immediately 
 left Calcutta, visited Ava and Pegu, and a short time af- 
 terwards, was found to have taken up his residence in an 
 obscure quarter of Penang. There, if we can believe his 
 own declarations, he began to feel great compunction and re- 
 morse of conscience. In the Penang Gazette, of March 9th, 
 1816, he had the effrontery to avow himself a true believer 
 in Christianity ! notwithstanding his book in favor of Moham- 
 medanispi. From other sources it was understood that he 
 testified extraordinary devotion as a Soonee, the sect of Mo- 
 hammedans of which he was an original member. The re- 
 nown of his apostasy soon destroyed the friendly connections 
 which he had formed on his first appearance, and in every 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 435 
 
 place of sojourn he became finally despised and neglected. 
 His last days were wretched in the extreme. It seems that 
 the reigning prince of Acheen was dethroned. Sabat, in 
 attempting to join himself to the fortunes of the fallen king, 
 fell into the hands of the usurper, who, having kept him, and a 
 companion of his, in prison for six months, ordered them to be 
 tied up in a sack filled with heavy stones, and thrown into the 
 sea. Other accounts state that Sabat joined the usurper, and, 
 having been discovered in a scheme to overthrow the new 
 authority in favor of himself, he was punished with the horrible 
 death already mentioned. E. 
 
 [ H. p. 283. ] 
 
 Rev. T. T. Thomason. 
 
 Mr. Thomason was born at Devenporty England, June 7th, 
 1774. When he was thirteen years of age, the devotion of 
 his mind to religious pursuits began to appear, by his refusing 
 to accompany a friend to a place of fashionable amusement. 
 He entered at Magdalen College, Cambridge,, in 1792. He 
 here obtained the Norrisian prize three successive times, and 
 was elected Tutor and Fellow of Queen’s College. In 1798, 
 he married Elizabeth Fawcett, youngest daughter of J. Faw- 
 cett, Esq. In 1808, he accepted a chaplaincy in Bengal. 
 He immediately took charge of the Mission Church, Calcutta. 
 He became a distinguished linguist, especially in Hebrew, 
 Arabic, and Oordoo. On account of the illness of Mrs. T., he 
 was induced to set his face towards England, in 1826. In 
 one month after embarkation, his excellent wife died. To; 
 him, this scene was one of great anguish. On his arrival in 
 England, he took charge for two years of Trinity Church, 
 Cheltenham. Unable, however, to prosecute in England his 
 favorite work of translation, he determined to return to India. 
 He left England in June, 1828, and arrived at Calcutta the 
 November following. His health had been in a declining 
 state from the time he left India in 1826. On his arrival in 
 Calcutta he was able to preach but twice. His sufferings 
 were greatly mitigated by the unremitted kindness of the indi- 
 
436 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 vidual whom he had married a short time before he left 
 England. 
 
 After a brief residence at Barrackpore, he proceeded, in 
 April, 1829, to the Isle of France. His disorder gained upon 
 him till the 22d of June, when it put a period to his sufferings, 
 and he entered into rest. His sickness, though unto death, 
 was for the glory of God, and the Son of God was glorified 
 thereby. In suffering the most excruciating pain, he would 
 comfort himself with the thought, that he should soon be where 
 the weary are at rest. The names of few men will be record- 
 ed in the annals of India, who have conferred greater benefits 
 upon it, than Mr. Thomason ; and the Christian philanthropist, 
 when surveying‘ the widely extended territories of this vast 
 continent, and reflecting over those who have counted not 
 their lives dear unto themselves, that they might plant the 
 standard of the cross amid the countless myriads of fallen but 
 immortal spirits who inhabit it, will at once associate in his 
 mind, with Kiernander, Swartz, Brown, Buchanan, Martyn and 
 Heber, the name of Thomason, as a no less true friend to the 
 cause of his Redeemer. E. 
 
 [ I. p. 305. ] 
 
 Mr MartyrCs Sermon, 
 
 The text on which this interesting sermon is founded, is 
 Galatians vi. 10. “ As we have therefore opportunity, let us 
 do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the 
 household of faith.” Mr. Martyn first remarks on the impor- 
 tance of doing good unto all men. Charity begins at home, 
 but it does not end there ; it looks at the universal church. 
 
 It regards the dying body indeed, but it spends its chief anxie- - 
 ty on the immortal spirit. He then states the truly catholic 
 principles on which the British and Foreign Bible Society is 
 conducted. He then proceeds to consider the importance of 
 doing good to the household of faith — to the numerous native 
 Christians of India. These are arranged into four divisions.. 
 The Portuguese, of whom there are about 50,000. The Tan- 
 jore Christians, converted chiefly by the instrumentality of 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 437 
 
 Swartz ; they are in number about 12,000, and speak the Ta- 
 muL They are all Protestants, and can all read. The third 
 class are the Christians who speak the Malayalim, or Malabar 
 language ; of these there are not fewer than 200,000, about 
 half of whom are Roman Catholics. The last class are the 
 native Christians of Ceylon, the Cingalese, of whom there are 
 342,000 Protestants, and an equal number of Catholics. 
 “ Asia,” says Mr. Martyn, “ must be our care ; or if not Asia, 
 India, at least, must look to none but us. Honor calls, as well 
 as duty. Let us make haste, and anticipate the supplies from 
 the mother country, and thus prove to our friends, and the 
 world, that England need never be ashamed of her sons in In- 
 dia.” “ The generals and admirals of England have caused the 
 thunder of her power to be heard throughout the earth ; now 
 her ministers of religion perform their part, and endeavor to 
 fulfil the high destinies of heaven in favor of their country. 
 They called on their fellow citizens to cheer the desponding 
 nations with the book of the promises of eternal life. The 
 summons was obeyed. It is now time that we should step 
 forward. Shall every town and hamlet in England engage 
 in the glorious cause, and the mighty empire of India do 
 nothing ?” “ There are no less than 900,000 Christians close 
 
 at hand, and many of whom are fast relapsing into idolatry.” 
 “ Imagine the sad situation of a sick or dying Christian, who 
 has just heard enough of eternity to be afraid of death, and 
 not enough of a Saviour to look beyond it with hope. O pity 
 his distress, you that have hearts to feel. You that know that 
 you must one day die, O give unto him, what may comfort him 
 in a dying hour.” E. 
 
 [ J. p. 310. ] 
 
 Missions at Bombay. 
 
 Bombay is the third of the British Presidencies in India ; 
 about 1,300 miles, travelling distance^ west of Calcutta. Popu- 
 lation of the island, about 200,000 ; of the countries in which 
 the Mahratta language is spoken, about 12,000,000. The city, 
 Bombay, is the capital of the Presidency of the same name. 
 
 37 * 
 
438 
 
 APPENDIX, 
 
 The missions of the American Board of Commissioners for 
 Foreign Missions, in this place, were commenced in 1813. 
 Several excellent men have here laid down their lives for the 
 sake of the Gospel. No very marked, palpable results, have 
 yet attended the publication of the truths of Christianity. There 
 is, however, abundant encouragemenv. to labor. Much good 
 seed has been sown, yet to spring up an-d bear rich harvests. 
 
 After twelve years residence in Bombay, Mr. Gordon Hall 
 declared it to be his conviction, that the facilities for employing 
 the appointed means of salvation among the people had multi- 
 plied tenfold since his arrival in 1813. The number of mis- 
 sionaries is six, of female helpers six. Rev. George W. Boggs 
 and his wife lately sailed from Salem, Mass., to join the mis- 
 sion. At the last information, there were seventeen free schools 
 for boys, and eighteen for girls, comprising more than 1000 boys 
 and 500 girls. Seventy-eight of the boys had Mohammedan 
 parents, and one hundred and thirty were of Jewish origin 
 The whole amount of printing executed at Bombay, from April, 
 1817, to the close of 1830, was about 10,000,000 of pages. 
 Several of the natives have joined the church, and others are 
 in an inquiring state of mind. Within the Presidency of Bom- 
 bay there are missionary stations, connected with five different 
 Societies in Great Britain and America. 
 
 [ K. p. 322. ] 
 
 Shiraz, 
 
 The valley of Shiraz is twenty-four miles in length, and 
 twelve in breadth, bounded on each side by hills of no great 
 height, which are entirely bare of vegetation. Shiraz, though 
 surrounded with gardens, no longer presents an imposing 
 aspect. There is not a single dome or minaret standing. 
 Most of its public structures, once very numerous, are in a 
 state of ruin or of neglect. Of the colleges comprised within 
 the city, amounting, as it is said, to forty, several are totally 
 abandoned, and the others are but thinly attended. The 
 Bazar is the glory of Shiraz, and is unequalled throughout 
 the empire. It is a spacious, lofty street, covered by a hand- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 439 
 
 some vaulted roof, and is said to contain 1,500 shops. Shiraz 
 has a population of about 19,000 souls. This city possesses 
 within its precincts the remains of sixty tombs. They are 
 mostly small edifices of brick or clay, of mean appearance, 
 some of them surrounded with domes. The tomb of Hafiz, 
 the Persian poet, is the most distinguished. The people of 
 Shiraz regard themselves as the prime of the Persians, esteem- 
 ing their language as the most pure, and their pronunciation 
 as the most correct. ‘ Our Sheeraz is superior to Isfahan,’ is 
 the often cited line of Hafiz. The city is still styled, on coins, 
 the Gate of Science ; but its learned men are no more. There 
 are in the city a number of ingenious mechanics, particularly 
 in all kinds of eijamel work, in gold and silver^ &c. E. 
 
 [ I., p. 323. ] 
 
 Soofeeism, 
 
 The Soofees appear to be (says the Christian Observer) just 
 what Mr. Martyn has described them to be — a body of mystic 
 latitudinarians. Their rise seems to be nearly co-existent with 
 Mohammedanism itself ; and in the first instance, their enthu- 
 siastic zeal was one of the instruments by which the conquests 
 of this false religion were achieved. But their contempt of 
 many of the tenets of Moliamme danism, their dislike to its 
 forms, their pretence to a distinct communion with the Deity, 
 their mystical indifference to all opinions, their philosophical 
 Pyrrhonism, will render them, if they should ever be brought 
 vigorously to co-operate, most formidable antagonists to that 
 spurious faith. The Soofeeism of Persia is evidently the Ideal- 
 ism of the Eastern and Western countries of the world. It is 
 to be found, under various modifications, in the most splendid 
 philosophical theories of Greece and Rome, in the system of 
 the Indian Vyasa, in the mystical writings of France and Ger- 
 many. In Persia, it is. associated witli much enthusiasm, much 
 self-indulgence, gross sensuality, incredible vanity, and uni- 
 versal skepticism. It has been properly termed the belief of 
 the imagination, and is consequently susceptible of all the 
 forms and emotions which that creative and intemperate 
 
440 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 faculty is qualified to communicate. Soofeeism is no religion. 
 It unsettles the existing belief every where. It has had a 
 rapid spread in Persia. 
 
 There are, perhaps, 200,000 individuals attached to the doc- 
 trines of Soofeeism in Persia. It is supposed to be derived 
 from ao(poi, or the Arabic word saaf, clean, or soof^ wool, from 
 the nature of the garment worn by its adherents. E. 
 
 [ M. p. 340. ] 
 
 Martyn's Controversial Tracts,. 
 
 In the year 1824, the Rev. S. Lee, now Professor of Hebrew 
 in the University of Cambridge, published a volume of very in- 
 teresting Tracts, on the Mohammedan controversy. We have 
 been gratified and instructed by the perusal of this volume \;. 
 we will now furnish a short analysis of it. Professor Lee, in 
 a preface of one hundred and twenty-seven pages, gives an 
 historical sketch of the controversy, previously to the days of' 
 Mr. Martyn. 
 
 In 1596, the Jesuit missionary Xavier published a book on 
 the subject, which he entitled, “ A mirror, showing the truth,’^ 
 written in Persian, and presented to the Emperor Jahangir. 
 The work is divided into five chapters. Chapter I. is mainly 
 occupied on the doctrines of Natural Religion, closing with a 
 statement by which a true revelation may be distinguished 
 from all pretended ones. Chapters II. and III. on the doc- 
 trines of Christianity, giving the proof of the authenticity of 
 the Christian Revelation, intermingled with some Popish 
 legends. Chapter IV. comparison of the precepts of the Gos- 
 pel, and those of Mohammedanism. Chapter V. treats of va- 
 rious miscellaneous topics. 
 
 Professor Lee says, that Xavier was evidently a man of con- 
 siderable ability, but that he trusted much more to his own 
 ingenuity than to the plain, unsophisticated declarations of the 
 Holy Scriptures. This book was replied to, in a duodecimo of 
 350 pages, by Ahmed Ibn Zain Elabidin Elalooi, entitled “ The 
 divine rays in refutation of Christian error.” It bears date 
 1621. The author attempts to prove that Mohammed is the 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 441 
 
 Paraclete promised by Christ, and that Christians disobey 
 Christ in rejecting Mohammed. He also tries to prove that 
 Moses foretold the coming of Mohammed. The miracles of 
 the Gospel are then compared with those of the Koran. Va- 
 rious alleged discrepancies between the Gospels and the 
 Pentateuch are pointed out ; also the inconsistencies of the 
 different writers of the New Testament are triumphantly 
 adduced. He consequently attempts to prove that our Gos- 
 pels do not give a true account of Jesus Christ. The union 
 of the two natures in Christ is an insuperable difficulty. He 
 declares it to be inconsistent, unreasonable, &c., trying to prove 
 its absurdity by metaphysical arguments. Then the character 
 and miracles of Mohammed are enlarged upon. 
 
 In 1631, a reply to the Mohammedan writer was furnished 
 at Rome, in a quarto of 557 pages, by Guadagnolo, Professor 
 of Arabic. It went over the ground of Xavier, and answered 
 the objections of his opponent. Various other works on the 
 controversy have been published. 
 
 While Mr. Martyn was in Persia, Mirza Ibrahim, the Pre- 
 ceptor of all the Moollahs, wrote a book in defence of Mo- 
 hammedanism, which appeared in July, 1811. The principal 
 argument of the Mohammedan Doctor, in defence of his sys- 
 tem, is the miracle of the Koran ; mankind being unable to pro- 
 duce anything like it. He asserts that the miracles of Moham- 
 med are conversant about subjects purely intellectual, while 
 those of Moses and Jesus had respect only to objects of sense. 
 The superiority of the former is, of course, inferred. After 
 stating various other considerations, he closes by referring Mr. 
 Martyn to the illustrious Koran, observing that God has left 
 him without excuse, in respect to the prophetic mission of Mo- 
 hammed. 
 
 Mr. Martyn replied in three Tracts. In the first, he discusses 
 the nature of miracles, in which is shown the groundlessness 
 of the assertion that the Koran is a standing miracle, that it 
 cannot be equalled, &c. 
 
 In the second Tract, Mr. Martyn attacks Mohammedanism 
 directly, proving its worthlessness from the depraved charac- 
 ter and selfishness of its author, from the nature of its rewards, 
 the contradictions of the Koran, &c. Pie contrasts with it 
 the pure and heavenly, and sanctifying doctrines of the Gos- 
 pel. It closes in a very characteristic manner. “ It is now 
 
442 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 the prayer of the humble Henry Martyn, that these things 
 may be considered with impartiality. If they become the 
 means of producing conviction, let not the fear of death or 
 punishment operate for a moment to the contrary ; but let this 
 conviction have its legitimate effect ; for the world, we know, 
 passes away like the wind of the desert. But if what is here 
 stated does not produce conviction, my prayer is, that God 
 himself may instruct you ; that, as hitherto ye have held what 
 you believed to be the truth, ye may now become teachers of 
 that which is really so ; and that he may grant you to be the 
 means of bringing others to the knowledge of the same, through 
 Jesus Christ, who has loved us, and washed us from our sins 
 in his own blood ; to whom be the power and the glory, forever, 
 Amen.” 
 
 Mr. Martyn’s third Tract is on the vanity of the Soofee sys- 
 tem, and on the truth of the religion of Moses and Jesus. It 
 is mainly occupied on the consideration of the question. How 
 can man, corrupt and fallen, be restored to the image and 
 favor of his Creator ? This brings into view the main points of 
 difference between Christianity and Mohammedanism. 
 
 In the course of this controversy, one Aga Acber sent forth 
 a pamphlet, in reply to Mr. Martyn, of 140 pages. It is, says 
 Professor Lee, of the most trifling and ludicrous description. 
 Some months after the death of Mr. Martyn, another rejoin- 
 der was published by Mirza Mohammed of Hamadan — a man 
 at the head of the Soofees, or mystics of Persia, of good 
 moral character and high in favor at Court. His piece covers 
 90 pages of closely written 8vo. The style is correct and ele- 
 gant, while the arguments are weak and futile, though much 
 superior to those of Aga Acber. 
 
 The closing part of the book, amounting to 130 pages, is oc- 
 cupied by Professor Lee, in some excellent observations upon 
 the question in dispute. He has followed a different line of 
 argument from that pursued by Mr. Martyn, and, we think, with 
 great success. In the first place, he shows that the principles 
 by v/hich evidence has been estimated in the Mohammedan 
 Tracts, are not calculated to ascertain the truth in questions 
 relating to religion. And in the second place, he proposes 
 others, upon which reliance maybe placed. Thirdly, he shows 
 that the Old and New Testament books are mainly the same 
 as they originally were ; that is, no wilful corruption has ever 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 443 
 
 taken place in them, either affecting any point of doctrine, or 
 article of history. In the fourth place, the inquiry is made, 
 Whether revelation affords the criteria by which any one lay- 
 ing claim to a divine mission, may be known. And, if so, 
 Whether Mohammed’s character answers the requirements of 
 such criteria. In the fifth place, the author proceeds to as- 
 certain from revelation, What is the real character of man, 
 What the word of God has laid down as necessary for his ob- 
 servance, and. For what end that has been done. In the last 
 place, some general remarks are made. E. 
 
 I N. p. 349. ] 
 
 Ruins of Persepolis^ 
 
 The ruins of Persepolis are situated on the plain of Merdasht, 
 one of the most fertile in Persia, to the left of the road leading 
 from Isfahan to Shiraz. Let the reader figure to himself the 
 side of a mountain of the hardest marble, presenting an 
 unequal area or platform, 1,200 feet in length, and 1,600 feet 
 in depth, cut perpendicularly, and surrounded with a wall 
 faced with marble, 4,000 feet in circumference. On this ter- 
 race are porticoes, columns, walls, flights of steps, all of mar- 
 ble, without any apparent mixture of stone ; edifices vying in 
 dimensions, and in the majesty of their details, with the most 
 perfect works of antiquity extant ; aqueducts hewn out of the 
 solid rock ; lastly, a mountain cut perpendicularly throughout 
 its whole length, and forming its eastern wall. Such was, in 
 past ages, the general appearance of the temple of Persepolis. 
 But it is now changed. Earthquakes have altered the face of 
 it; the hand of man has overthrown what they spared; the 
 eye now discovers nothing but fragments of walls, detached 
 door- ways, columns partly in ruins, the ground strowed with 
 fragments of shafts, capitals, and blocks of marble ; while 
 heaps of sand and dust are daily covering more and more of 
 these structures. The mosque, the caravanserai, and the 
 dwelling of the Persian, are decorated with their spoils. The 
 names of the Mussulman conqueror, and the European travel- 
 ler, are placed beside those inscriptions, the origin, significa- 
 
444 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 tion, and wedge-shaped characters of which, will continue to 
 exercise the sagacity of the learned. Sufficient remains are 
 yet left, to prove that the Persians had carried architecture to 
 a high degree of perfection long before the Greeks. The 
 figures which adorn the surface of all the walls, bespeak an 
 able and experienced hand. Their number throughout the 
 whole of the ruins is estimated at about 1,300. The oriental 
 historians do not agree respecting the founder of these mag- 
 nificent structures. Mr. Morier, in his second journey through 
 Persia, visited these celebrated ruins, and, to his great delight, 
 found “ a row of figures highly preserved, the details of whose 
 faces, hair, dresses, arms, and general character, seemed but 
 as the work of yesterday. The faces of the figures to the 
 right of the staircase, which leads to the great hall of columns, 
 are mutilated, which must be attributed to the bigotry of the 
 first Mussulm^ans who invaded Persia; those of the newly- 
 discovered figures are quite perfect, which shows that they 
 must have been covered before the Saracen invasion.” E. 
 
 [ O. p. 392. ] 
 
 Translation of a Letter from his Persian Majesty to Sir 
 Gore Ouseley^ Part. 
 
 “ In the name of the Almighty God, whose glory is most 
 excellent. 
 
 “ It is our august command, that the dignified and excellent, 
 our trusty, faithful, and loyal well wisher. Sir Gore Ouseley, 
 Baronet, his Britannic Majesty’s Ambassador Extraordinary 
 (after being honored and exalted with the expressions of our 
 highest regard and consideration), should know, that the copy 
 of the Gospel, which was translated into Persian, by the 
 learned exertions of the late Rev. Henry Martyn, and which 
 has been presented to us by your Excellency, on the part of 
 the high, dignified, learned and enlightened Society of Chris- 
 tians, united for the purpose of spreading abroad the Holy 
 Books of the religion of Jesus (upon whom, and upon all 
 Prophets, be peace and blessings !), has reached us, and has 
 proved highly acceptable to our august mind. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 445 
 
 “ In truth, through the learned and unremitting exertions of 
 the Rev. Henry Martyn, it has been translated in a style most 
 befitting sacred books ; that is, in an easy and simple diction. 
 Formerly, the four Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke and 
 John, were known in Persia; but now the whole of the New 
 Testament is completed in a most excellent manner : and this 
 circumstance has been an additional source of pleasure to our 
 enlightened and august mind. Even the four Evangelists, 
 which were known in this country, had never been before ex- 
 plained in so clear and luminous a manner. We therefore 
 have been particularly delighted with this copious and com- 
 plete translation. Please the most merciful God, we shall 
 command the select servants, who are admitted to our presence, 
 to read to us the above-mentioned Book from the beginning to 
 the end, that we may, in the most minute manner, hear and 
 comprehend its contents. 
 
 ‘‘ Your excellency will be pleased to rejoice the hearts of 
 the above-mentioned dignified, learned, and enlightened So- 
 ciety with assurances of our highest regard and approbation ; 
 and to inform those excellent individuals, who are so virtuous- 
 ly engaged in disseminating and making known the true mean 
 ing and intent of the holy Gospel, and other points in sacred 
 books, that they are deservedly honored with our royal favor. 
 Your excellency must consider yourself as bound to fulfil this 
 royal request. Given in Rebialavil, 1229. 
 
 (Sealed.) FATEH ALI SHAH KAJAR.” 
 
 [ P. p. 405. ] 
 
 Armenians. 
 
 Between Syria and the British possessions in the East 
 Indies, there is a vast tract of country, of the actual religious 
 condition of which comparatively very little is known. If we 
 except a small portion of Roman Catholic Greek influence in 
 the more western parts of this immense region, it will be found 
 to be occupied, so far as Christianity is concerned, by Arme- 
 nians, Jacobite Syrians, and Nestorians, more or less scantily 
 distributed among the native Mohammedan population. 
 
 38 
 
446 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 The Armenian church holds the opinion of the Mono- 
 phosytes, concerning the incarnation of Jesus Christ ; in such 
 a manner, however, as to differ from the Jacobites, with whom 
 they do not hold communion. They are governed by their 
 Patriarchs. The chief, whose diocese comprehends the greater 
 Armenia, resides at Echmiadzin. The second resides at Cis, 
 a city of Cilicia. There is a third, residing at Aghtamar, but 
 who is looked upon by the other Armenians as the enemy of 
 their church. Besides these, there are other Prelates dignified 
 with the title of Patriarch, although not fully of the same rank ; 
 those, namely, of Constantinople, Jerusalem, and Caminiec in 
 Poland.* E. 
 
 [ Q. p. 416. ] 
 
 Visit of the American Missionaries. 
 
 The Rev. Eli Smith, and Harrison G, O. Dwight, lefl 
 Malta, in the beginning of the year 1830, for an exploring 
 tour into Armenia, and other portions of Western Asia. 
 They sailed to Sn>yrna, thence proceeded to Constantinople, 
 and thence to Tocat, the scene of the last sufferings of Henry 
 Martyn. While there, Mr. Smith wrote a letter to the Rev. 
 Rufus Anderson, one of the Secretaries of the American Board 
 of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, in company with 
 whom he travelled in Greece, during the previous year. The 
 following letter, dated Tocat, June 1, 1830, will be found to 
 contain some interesting notices of Martyn. 
 
 “ After several days of unavoidable delay in obtaining the 
 necessary passports and other documents at Constantinople, 
 we lefl that place on the morning of the 21st ult., and yester- 
 day, at noon, reached this city, having rode about five hundred 
 miles ; i. e. nearly fifty miles a day on an average. Our route 
 has led us through Nicomedia, Boli, and Amasia. From 
 the excessive heat that prevailed at Constantinople for a 
 short time before our departure, we expected to suffer much 
 
 See Jowett's Researches 3 A vdalPs History of Armenia, &c. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 447 
 
 the first few days. But a kind Providence shrouded the sun 
 in clouds for three days, so that we enjoyed our ride much 
 through the rich plains and verdant forests of Bithynia. 
 Then we crossed the high and beautiful plain of Boli, and the 
 still higher table lands which border on Paphligonia, where 
 we found as cool and as pure an air, as that which, you re- 
 member, so much delighted us, the last summer, in Arcadia, 
 and hastened on at the rate of 60 miles a day with little fatigue. 
 Since reaching the tributaries of the Halys, and thus far in 
 Pontus, the heat at mid-day has been almost insupportable ; and 
 yesterday before we stopped, it reached the temperature of 
 100° of Fahrenheit. But, by lying by at mid-day, and riding 
 all night, we have reached this place without having our health 
 seriously affected. Indeed, we are astonished at the com- 
 parative ease with which w^e have effected so rapid a journey, 
 in a foreign climate, and in this inhospitable country, where 
 the only accommodations at night are a filthy khan, and where 
 hardly anything but the poorest food can be found ; and often 
 have we made mention of the goodness of God, who has thus 
 borne us up under fatigue, and brought us safely on our way. 
 We have special reason to be thankful that his providence has 
 placed us under the guidance of so good a Tartar. The best 
 food, the best accommodations, and the best horses, that were 
 to be had, have always been at our command. 
 
 “ Had I time, I would with pleasure describe to you all the 
 interesting and important observations we have made ; but as 
 I am limited in that respect, I will pass on to this place, so 
 intimately associated in the mind of every friend of missions 
 with the name of Martyn. We have to-day visited the grave 
 of that excellent and devoted missionary. From the manner 
 in which his death is mentioned in his Memoir, we had 
 anticipated some difficulty in finding even the place of his 
 burial. But here we found that any one could tell us that, 
 and were immediately directed to the principal Armenian 
 cemetery around the church of Carsun Manunk, (or Carasoon 
 Mkioog, forty children,) at the north-east extremity of the 
 town. Here the priest showed his tomb^stone, which is dis- 
 tinguished from those of the Armenians around, only by a 
 Latin inscription.* 
 
 This inscription, with a translation, is inserted in the PrefacCi 
 
448 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 “We had expected to obtain some information respecting 
 his death from the parish priest who buried him ; but he is 
 dead, and the present incumbent could only refer us to two 
 Armenian merchants, of whom he said some English gentle- 
 men, who copied the inscription a year ago, had made in- 
 quiries. These gentlemen, however, we found on inquiry, 
 knew no more than that he probably died in the post-house. 
 We found the post-master to be a careless old Turk, little dis- 
 posed to trouble himself with answering our inquiries, though 
 he probably might have given us information had he been dis- 
 posed, as, although the person who was then post-master has 
 since died, he was then the clerk of the establishment. He 
 professed to recollect only that he arrived sick, that some 
 Armenians administered to him medicine, that he died after 
 four or five days, that the Tartar with whom he travelled took 
 his trunk on to Constantinople, and that, a year or two after, 
 an Englishman, whom he supposed to be his brother, passed 
 along and erected a monument on his grave. Whether he 
 died in the post-house, and of the plague, which was then 
 raging, he knew not. On leaving him, we were referred to 
 another Armenian merchant, as probably able to give us in- 
 formation. We found that he had not seen Martyn himself, 
 but that his cousin had attended upon him in his sickness. 
 This cousin, however, is now dead, and the merchant himself 
 could only inform us that, as the plague was then raging so 
 terribly, that hundreds died in a day, it was not probable that 
 any Armenian would admit him into his house, and he must 
 have died in the post-house, and very probably of the plague, 
 A year after, an English traveller from Bagdad wrote the in- 
 scription, and left money to erect the monument, with a person 
 whom he appointed to see that it was done. This is all the 
 information we have been able to obtain respecting the death 
 of Martyn. Scanty as it is, we have taken no small interest in 
 collecting it.* 
 
 “Little did I think, when, reading the life of that excellent 
 man in my senior year in college, I was first inclined to a 
 missionary’s life, that Providence would ever put it in my 
 way to visit his tomb. Would that, now I have been permitted 
 this melancholy pleasure, and am about to retrace his steps 
 
 * See the Preface to this edition. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 449 ) 
 
 towards the country where he has left behind him such a 
 name for holiness of character, I might be endued with more 
 of his spirit, so that, if my life be prolonged, it may be as use^ 
 fully spent as his, or, if death await me, I may be as well pre- 
 pared for it as he was. 
 
 “ The safety of our road beyond this place seems rather more 
 uncertain than we had been led to anticipate at Constanti- 
 nople, though we have no serious apprehensions. Between 
 here and Siwas, which is about twenty hours distant, there 
 are collected some six or eight thousand disbanded soldiers, 
 who have turned robbers, and the neighboring authorities are 
 collecting troops to march against them. They are, however, 
 so far from our road, that we shall probably see nothing of 
 them. Notwithstanding all the inquiries we have made, we 
 have yet been unable to learn whether the Russians have 
 left, or are leaving, Erzeroom, and are somewhat afraid of 
 arriving there about the time when the change of authorities 
 takes place, and where there will, of course, be disorder for 
 some tiipe. The road by way of Trebizond is so bad, and 
 the danger from robbers between there and Erzeroom occa- 
 sionally so considerable, that we are hesitating whether to 
 go to that place. Should we not, we hope to obtain all neces- 
 sary information respecting it, here and at Erzeroom.” 
 
 The foregoing letter was originally published in the Mis- 
 sionary Herald. In the same work we find extracts from 
 three letters, written, subsequently to the above, by Messrs. 
 Smith and Dwight, to Jeremiah Evarts, Esq. late Correspond- 
 ing Secretary of the Board of Foreign Missions. They de- 
 scribe the journey from Tocat to Erzeroom — from Erzeroom 
 to Tiflis — and from Tiflis to Shousha. Though long, we think 
 they will be read with interest. — The first letter is dated at 
 Erzeroom, June 16, 1830, 
 
 “Since leaving Tocat we have been obliged to travel more 
 moderately, both on account of the mountainous roads, and 
 also because of the difficulty in procuring horses, in the latter 
 part of our route. We have passed through a variety of 
 climates, in our passage over mountains, and valleys, and. 
 plains ; — the thermometer sometimes varying 40% within eight 
 or nine hours. We have ridden in the burning heat of thea 
 38 * 
 
450 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 sun with the temperature of 100°, and we have shivered under 
 an atmosphere of 40°. We have passed immense bodies of 
 snow, lying on elevations but little above us, and some banks 
 almost in our very path, and that within only a few days past. 
 Indeed the snow is still lying on the mountains around Erze- 
 room, some of which came as lately as yesterday. When we 
 arrived within about 40 miles of this place, we found our horses, 
 which we had ridden for two days, so fatigued that we could 
 go with them no farther, and the regular posts broken up by 
 the invasion of the Russians, so that it was impossible to pro- 
 cure other horses. Our only alternative was to take the 
 rudely constructed carts of this country, drawn by oxen, and 
 in these we came within about four miles of this place, where 
 we found horses for ourselves, leaving our baggage to come 
 on in the carts. We arrived here on the 13th inst. making 
 our whole passage from Constantinople, a distance of about 
 800 miles, in twenty-three days, including the delay of four 
 days on the road. 
 
 “ You will understand from what we have stated concerning 
 our route, that we did not pass through Trebizond. This 
 part of our plan we relinquished for the following reasons: 
 1. As far as we could learn, there is but one road that is now 
 travelled between this place and Trebizond, and that would 
 take us about 200 miles, in going and returning, out of our 
 way. 2. The road is extremely mountainous, and sometimes, 
 at this season, parts of it are almost impassable on account of 
 the snow, and moreover it is infested with robbers. 3. We 
 had heard that the Russians were about leaving Erzeroom, 
 and we thought it very desirable that we should arrive here 
 before that event, as there would probably be some disturb- 
 ances after they left, and before the Turkish authority is fully 
 re-established. Although it is a disappointment to us not to 
 visit Trebizond, still, since we arrived at Erzeroom, we are 
 confirmed in the opinion, that it was wise not to go there. We 
 hope to collect here considerable information with regard to 
 that place. 
 
 “We have found since we arrived within the pashalic of 
 Erzeroom, that a very important revolution is taking place in 
 the circumstances of the Armenians here. How it will affect 
 our object remains yet to be known. You are aware that 
 during the late war between Russia and Turkey, a very con- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 451 
 
 siderable part of this pashalic fell into the hands of the Rus- 
 sians. Wherever they have gone, they have taken a census 
 of the Armenian population, and encouraged the Armenians 
 to migrate to their territories. We cannot learn from any 
 authentic source exactly the terms on which the Russians 
 propose to receive them ; but we have been told that they offer 
 land, both for rent and purchase, at a much cheaper rate than 
 that for which the Armenians can procure it in Turkey ; and 
 that they promise the Armenians that their taxes shall be the 
 same with the other Russian citizens, which is about one half 
 of what they pay in Turkey. In consequence of these en- 
 couragements, nearly all the Armenians have actually gone 
 from Erzeroom, and we have been told that very many have 
 gone and are going from the different villages. The whole 
 number cannot be ascertained until affairs here are more 
 settled. We have heard the Armenian population of this city, 
 previous to their departure, estimated at from 15,000 to 30,000. 
 They had a school of six or seven hundred scholars, which is 
 now, of course, broken up. Their bishop and their priests are 
 gone, and their shops, which were numerous, are closed. It 
 is truly melancholy to pass through that part of the bazars 
 lately occupied by the Armenians, and see here and there a 
 solitary Turk, in the midst of long rows of stalls entirely 
 deserted. The presence of the Russians here gives some 
 appearance of life to the city, hut when they are gone, it will 
 be desolate indeed. The Turks themselves evidently dread 
 the effect on this portion of their country, and the departure 
 of the Armenians is the constant theme of their conversation. 
 They have good reason for their fears, for they are almost 
 entirely dependent on this class of their subjects for the culti- 
 vation of their soil, and the transaction of their mercantile 
 business. 
 
 “ These circumstances will very much shorten our stay in 
 this place. The Russians leave here to-morrow, and if possi- 
 ble, we shall go at the same time. We intend first to visit 
 Kars, to the vicinity of which place, we understand, most of 
 the Armenians have gone. From Kars, we may go to Ech- 
 miadzin and Erivan, and thence to Tiflis, if the Lord will ; 
 though we cannot yet decide with certainty which will be the 
 best route. We feel constrained to acknowledge the good- 
 ness of God in preserving our health, and in giving us strength 
 
452 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 to pursue our fatiguing journey. We now feel much better 
 prepared to prosecute our tour, than when we started. We 
 feel greatly encouraged by the prosperity that has attended 
 all our movements, and strengthened in the belief that we are 
 laboring in a cause which God approves and will ultimately 
 make to triumph. If adverse circumstances should occur, 
 which we may most reasonably expect, we hope the Lord will 
 give us grace to say, ‘ Thy will be done.’ ” 
 
 The next letter was written at Tiflis, in Georgia, Aug. 4; 
 
 “We did not leave Erzeroom so soon as we expected, on 
 account of the difficulty we had in procuring horses. We 
 remained four or five days after the Russians had evacuated 
 the place ; and contrary to our expectation, every thing was 
 perfectly quiet in the city. As soon as the Russians were 
 gone, a crier went through the streets, proclaiming that if any 
 one should injure a rayah [a Christian subject], his goods 
 would be confiscated and his life would be in danger. 
 
 “ Between Erzeroom and Kars we passed very large num- 
 bers of Armenians, emigrating to Russia. Their furniture 
 was conveyed in carts drawn by oxen, while they themselves, 
 not excepting women and children, travelled for the most 
 part on foot. In general they appeared wretchedly poor, and 
 no doubt they will suffer very much, for a year or two, from 
 tlie want of the necessaries of life. They are most of them 
 going to settle in the vicinity of Akhaltsikhe. From all that 
 we could learn, we suppose that, at least, 40,000 souls have 
 left the pashalic of Erzeroom alone. 
 
 “ From Kars we hoped to be able to go directly to Echmi- 
 adzin, but we found that no horses could be procured there, 
 except those belonging to the Russian posts, and taking them 
 we must come first to this place. Besides, we ascertained 
 that by going through Echmiadzin and Erivan to Tiflis, we 
 should have two quarantines to pass, which would very much 
 lengthen our stay in this part of our route. We therefore 
 took Cossack horses, kindly offered to us by the commandant 
 of Kars, and came directly to this place, after spending four- 
 teen days quarantine at Gerger. Tiflis is only about one 
 day’s journey beyond the limits of ancient Armenia, in this 
 direction ; and at this moment, the lar-gest part of its popula- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 453 
 
 tion are Armenians. Besides, a very considerable part of the 
 population of the whole of Georgia and the adjacent Russian 
 provinces are also Armenians, and this number, as we have 
 stated, has been recently very much increased by emigration 
 from Turkey. By coming here we have an opportunity of 
 witnessing the character of Armenians, when formed under 
 another government than that of Turkey. We may also form 
 an opinion as to the treatment missionaries among the Arme- 
 nians would probably receive from the Russian government ; 
 while at the same time, we shall be able to learn much more 
 accurately than we could otherwise have done, the character, 
 condition, &c. of the mountain tribes of Georgia, mentioned 
 in our instructions ; and also the progress and influence of the 
 German colonies in these parts. Tiflis is a very important 
 place for trade, and it is likely to become much more so, 
 in future years. Its present population is between 30,000 
 and 40,000, and probably 25,000 of these are Armenians. 
 We have become acquainted with an Armenian bishop here, 
 who was formerly a papist, and educated at Rome, a man of 
 considerable intelligence, and one from whom we have gath- 
 ered many important facts, in reference to the subject of our 
 inquiries. We are also indebted for much information to an 
 Armenian resident here, formerly a professor of the Armenian 
 language in Paris. Both these men expressed very liberal 
 views on the subject of education, and also of religion ; and 
 the latter spoke with much approbation of the efforts of the 
 German missionaries at Shousha, and said he wished to see 
 the education of Armenians in the hands of such men, and he 
 thought the government would be favorable. The French 
 consul of this place, also, has been very polite to us, and freely 
 communicated the results of his inquiries and observation dur- 
 ing a residence of several years in Tiflis, a part of which time 
 has been spent in the different provinces. 
 
 “ There is a German colony in the immediate vicinity of 
 Tiflis, and several others at a little distance. The Germans 
 are cultivators of the soil, and as far as we can learn, are 
 doing very well. In each colony a church is erected at the 
 expense of the Russian government, and a pastor is procured 
 from Basle, who also is supported by government. AVe have 
 had considerable intercourse with the Rev. Mr. Saltet, pastor 
 of the church at Tiflis, and he appears like a truly good man. 
 
454 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 On the last Sabbath we attended his public exercise, and it 
 was truly delightful to visit once more the house of God, and 
 listen to the proclamation of the Gospel, although the services 
 were to us in an unknown tongue. Nothing has so strongly 
 reminded us of home, as to see the assembling of this con- 
 gregation at the ringing of a bell. Each individual came in 
 a neat and tidy dress, with a psalm book in his hand, and 
 throughout the exercises there was a respectful and serious 
 attention. It cannot but be regarded as a peculiar providence, 
 that these people were induced to leave their native land,, 
 and come to this distance, and settle down among nations in 
 many respects unchdlized and barbarous ; and their influence 
 cannot fail to be salutary, bringing with them, as they do, the 
 arts of civilization and the privileges of religion. Most of 
 them came from superstitious views, but although they were 
 deluded, still the Lord had no doubt wise designs in bringing 
 them here. We find that the Lesgies, the Circassians, Osse- 
 tians, and other mountaineer tribes of the Caucasus are still 
 in a disturbed and unsubdued state ; and the Russians are 
 now preparing to make war upon them in the autumn, at which 
 time they will probably put a final end to their outrages. It 
 is our intention to leave here for Shousha in a day or two and 
 thence to go to Erivan and Echmiadzin. 
 
 “ As there is a direct post route from here to St. Peters- 
 burg, we avail ourselves of this favorable means of conveying 
 our letters. The post leaves Tiflis for the capital every week, 
 and the ordinary passage is fifteen days. We are still in 
 good health, and have much to say of the goodness of God 
 towards us. To him may all our services be consecrated.” 
 
 The third letter is dated at Shousha, October 1. 
 
 After receiving our letter from Tiflis, dated August 4th, 
 you will probably be surprised that we have since been able 
 to make no farther progress in our journey, than to this place. 
 The reason has been our own ill health, and dangerous epi- 
 demical or contagious diseases in the places to which we wish 
 to go. We informed you from Tiflis of the ravages of the 
 cholera morbus at Tebriz. At that time we knew of its 
 existence in no other place, except in the region of Bakou, on 
 the Caspian. We therefore concluded, after finishing our 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 455 
 
 business at Tiflis, to proceed as far as Shousha, where we 
 should find a place convenient, both on account of its healthy 
 situation in the mountains, and the society of the German 
 missionaries stationed there, for waiting until health should 
 be restored to Tebriz. The road we were to take, is about 
 six days of constant travelling in length ; it leads, almost the 
 whole distance, through the level and sultry valley of the 
 Cyrus ; and though the soil is in general fertile, and very 
 well watered, it passes near not one inhabited spot, except the 
 town of Ganjeh, capital of a small province about half way, 
 and two German colonies in its vicinity. In order, therefore, 
 to defend us from the scorching sun, and to carry our provis- 
 ions more conveniently, as well as to avoid the fatigue of 
 riding on horseback, we hired a large covered German wagon, 
 from a colony in the vicinity, to carry us as far as Hellenen- 
 dorf, near Ganjeh, where we expected to exchange it for 
 another similar conveyance. We left Tiflis on Thursday, the 
 5th of August. The next day we learned that a dreadful dis- 
 ease had broken out at Ganjeh, which was carrying off in a 
 few hours almost all whom it attacked. Our informants knew 
 not its name, but from their description we were sure it could 
 be no other than the cholera or the plague. To go to Hel- 
 lenendorf now became impossible, as tJie only road would 
 lead us through the midst of the disease. No alternative was 
 therefore left us but to turn aside to Anenfeld, another 
 colony near the ruins of Shamkor, where we had been warned 
 not to stop on account of its unhealthy situation. Since its 
 settlement three fourths of its inhabitants have died, and now 
 almost all were absent in the mountains to avoid disease. As 
 we arrived on Saturday evening, however, we were obliged 
 to spend the Sabbath, and did not get away till Monday after- 
 noon. On account of the quarantines to which the disease 
 at Ganjeh would subject those who went in that direction, 
 we found the greatest difficulty in procuring a wagon to 
 carry us no farther than Korek Chai, one stage beyond Gan- 
 jeh ; this arrangement, however, was of much importance, as 
 we could thus avoid going directly through Ganjeh, as we 
 should have been obliged to do, had we gone by post. From 
 Korek Chai, we took post horses, and arrived at Shousha on 
 Friday, having been just eight days on the road. But these 
 eight days had done more to undermine our health, than all 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 456 
 
 the rest of our journey from Malta. The morning after we 
 left Tiflis, our dragoman (who was likewise our only servant), 
 in consequence of fatigue from helping us lift at the wagon 
 wheels and subsequently unload all our baggage, in order to 
 enable the horses to draw the wagon through the mud, was 
 seized with a fever, which continued without intermission till 
 Sunday afternoon. Our own health continued good till we 
 left Anenfeld. But we had hardly proceeded a mile from that 
 colony, before one, and shortly after the other, was seized with 
 a fever which was accompanied with much pain and debility. 
 We attributed this to the bad wind which prevailed, more 
 than to anything else. From Shamkor there stretches off 
 towards the south-east a broad plain, uninterrupted by a single 
 hill as far as the eye can reach, and presenting a horizon like 
 the sea. Along the banks of the Cyrus, which runs in that 
 direction, are extensive rice plantations, and beyond it is the 
 province of Shirwan, noted for its sickly atmosphere. The 
 wind, which blows from these regions every day, on the morn- 
 ing of the day we left the colony, brought with it a heavy fog 
 from the rice plantations, and then became so sultry, debilitat- 
 ing, and oppressive, that we seemed almost to perceive the 
 pestilential vapors with which it was charged. It continued 
 thus for two days, and no doubt contributed to produce and 
 prolong our illness. Our wagoner had promised to conduct us 
 by a road which should not lead us through Ganjeh. But to 
 our great surprise he brought us, between 8 and 9 at night, 
 almost wuthin a stone’s cast of that place to sleep. We have 
 since learned that it was the cholera that was then raging 
 there. Hundreds had already died of it, and in the colony of 
 Hellenendorf, more than fifty had been attacked. 
 
 Added to our actual illness, and apprehensions from the 
 dangerous disease, then so near us, our accommodations for 
 the night were not the most comfortable. With the exception 
 of two nights at Anenfeld, and one at Korek Chai, we invari- 
 ably, during this ride, slept on the ground in the open air, and 
 more than once the middle of the road was the best spot we 
 could find. Such was the case this night ; and so, throwing 
 our cloaks over us, we lay down by our wagon wheels until 
 morning. We then went on to the post at Korek Chai, but 
 our fever had risen so high that we could proceed no farther. 
 A Russian post-house is not a very inviting place. It con- 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 457 
 
 sists, in these provinces, generally of a walled enclosure, 
 within which is a stable for horses, and a few apartments for 
 Cossacks. The traveller can rarely find any food, or any con- 
 veniences whatever, unless it be an empty room. The lodg- 
 ings of the cossacks at this post were cabins under ground, 
 and that which we occupied was filled with myriads and 
 myriads of musquetoes which tormented us all day and all 
 night. By the blessing of God, however, upon the medicines 
 we took, we arose the next morning, free from fever, and were 
 able to go on our way. So weak were we still, that we could 
 hardly ride from one post to another. We had no appetite 
 for food, and had we been disposed to eat, dry bread was 
 almost the only food we had. We seem to have been kept up 
 during the remaining two days and a half of our journey, only 
 by the special interposition of Providence in our behalf, 
 exposed as we were to the heat of the mid-day sun, and the 
 damps of the midnight air, during the prevalence of an epi- 
 demic of which such exposures are peculiarly the predisposing 
 causes. Our morning ride generally continued till near noon, 
 and our evening ride till near midnight. And one night after 
 entering the mountains, where the wind blew cold and piercing, 
 our lodging place was an open scaffold, ten or twelve feet 
 from the ground, erected by the cossacks as the only refuge 
 they could find from the musquetoes. It was not to be ex- 
 pected that our exposures and fatigue would be attended by 
 no bad consequences. We were hardly surprised, therefore, 
 when, a few days after our arrival, we were all seized with 
 either the intermittent or remittent fever. A kind Providence, 
 however, blessed the means we used, and every case soon 
 yielded to the medicines we took. Still we have not all of us 
 yet recovered sufficient strength to journey. Indeed, we have 
 not gone out of the missionary premises but once since we 
 arrived. 
 
 “We have never ceased to be thankful to God, who brought 
 us to Shousha, even though our journey was attended with 
 some danger and disease. For before we reached here, the 
 cholera morbus broke out at Tiflis, and has raged there, so 
 that up to the last accounts, according to credible repoit, not 
 far from ten thousand have died. When there, we supposed 
 the population, according to the best estimates we could 
 obtain, to be less than forty thousand. Nearly one fourth 
 39 
 
458 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 have since been swept into eternity ! And had we been there, 
 we should, very likely, have been among the number. For 
 some time after we reached Shousha, it was surrounded and 
 threatened by the disease on every side, and still defended 
 from it. The inhabitants were much alarmed. The Arme- 
 nians had special prayers, and the Tartars went in solemn 
 mourning procession, with banners flying, their heads uncover- 
 ed, and crying with clamorous vociferations upon God, to their 
 grave-yards, to weep and pray there. The Russian authori- 
 ties were also alarmed, and adopted precautionary measures ; 
 one of which was a law that no one should go out without 
 first taking a drink of brandy — a law which we think it would 
 be difficult to execute in the United States. 
 
 “ On one side the disease advanced to Nakhchewan, on this 
 side of the Araxes. In another direction it attacked villages, 
 within an hour or two of Shousha. Its ravages were felt at 
 Bakou, Shamakhy, Kooba and Derbend. And we even hear 
 that it is at Astrakhan, and along the frontiers north of the 
 Caucasus. Within a few days it has made its appearance in 
 Shousha, and now a few die of it daily. But it assumes here 
 a comparatively mild form, and appears to excite but little 
 alarm. We have been looking forward to the first cool 
 weather to put a stop to it, but it seems not to be so easily 
 affected by a low temperature as we had supposed. At 
 Reshd, where it made its first appearance, it broke out in the 
 winter. 
 
 “ Thus you see, that had our own health been good, there 
 has yet been no time when we could with safety have proceed- 
 ed on our journey. In Nakhchewan, through which we should 
 go in order to take Echmiadzin in our route, the disease still 
 rages violently. At Tebriz the cholera has indeed ceased, 
 but the plague has broken out, which is a still greater hin- 
 drance to travelling, and not so likely soon to disappear. How 
 forcibly the reflection strikes one, that God is pouring out 
 upon these countries the vials of his wrath. War, cholear 
 and plague follow each other in quick succession, and hurry 
 their thousands into the grave. And still the survivors repent 
 not. Though stricken till “ the whole head is sick, and the 
 whole heart faint,” they revolt more and more. Oh ! for a 
 prophet’s voice, to interpret to them the meaning of their afflic- 
 tions, and to teach them how to turn the wrath of Heaven into 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 459 
 
 clemency and mercy ! — We have not been able to learn that 
 the cholera has ever prevailed here as an epidemic, but once 
 before. That was in the year 1823. Then it prevailed only 
 in the vicinity of the Caspian, and did not advance up the 
 Cyrus so far as Ganjeh. 
 
 “ Though our delay here has been long, yet, except for the 
 consideration that it will prolong our journey on the whole, 
 we are far from being dissatisfied with it. We have been 
 able to gather much information from the brethren here, 
 relating to the objects of our tour, which we hope in due time 
 to transmit to you. The experiment they are making, of car- 
 rying forward missionary operations within the Russian terri- 
 tories, is a very important one, and the result of it is yet ex- 
 tremely uncertain. The first object of the missionaries in 
 coming to these countries, was to labor among the Mohamme- 
 dans, — both Tartars and Persians. They, however, found the 
 Armenians so destitute of schools and instruction of every kind, 
 and so deplorably ignorant of the word of God, that they re- 
 solved to divide their efforts and appropriate a part only to the 
 Mohammedans, and a part to the Armenians. They commenced 
 a regular system of operations only about three years ago. Of 
 the five brethren who were then here, three devoted their labors 
 to the former class, and two to the latter. Two schools have 
 been opened in Shousha for the Armenians, under the super- 
 intendence of the missionaries, and when we arrived, one of 
 them contained 60 scholars, and the other 30. They have 
 since been discontinued on account of the sickness in the 
 tovrn. The brethren are also in the habit of making missionary 
 tours, both in this province and in the adjacent ones, for the 
 purpose of distributing tracts and books among the Armeni- 
 ans and Tartars, and also of publishing to them the Gospel, 
 both in private and in public, in the bazars, as the providence 
 of God gives them opportunities. These efforts have not been 
 without some precious fruits among the Armenians, and their 
 general influence certainly encourages their continuance. The 
 missionary press has hitherto printed only in Armenian ; they 
 are expecting, however, soon, a fount of types for printing in 
 Turkish. At present there are but three brethren here — 
 Dittrich, Zaremba and Ilohenacker, besides the printer. Of 
 the other two, one is in Bagdad, studying the Arabic, and the 
 other is nowon his return from Petersburg. Zaremba is at 
 
460 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 present very low of the cholera — almost all hopes of his recov- 
 ery are extinguished. He has just returned from Tifiis, 
 where he was during the raging of that disease. He is a 
 dear brother, and his loss will be severely felt. We cannot 
 but hope in God, that he may yet be raised.* We have uni- 
 formly received the kindest treatment from the brethren here 
 during our protracted stay, and it has truly been a resting 
 place in our pilgrimage, both temporally and spiritually. We 
 hope the providence of God will soon open the way, so that 
 we may proceed on our journey, but we desire to say, ‘ The will 
 of the Lord be done !’ ” 
 
 [ R. p. 423. ] 
 
 Ahdool Messeeh, 
 
 His family name was Shekh Salih, and his connections 
 were very respectable people. He was some time master of 
 jewels to the court of Oude, an appointment of higher estima- 
 tion in eastern palaces than in those of Europe, and the holder 
 of which has always a high salary. He had been instructed 
 by his father in both Persian and Arabic. He was also a good 
 Hindoostanee scholar. In 1810, he visited Cawnpore, while 
 Mr. Marty n was chaplain of that station. From his lips, Ab- 
 dool heard the truths of the Gospel. The impression produced 
 on his mind, proved deep and lasting. He was baptized in the 
 Old Church, Calcutta, by the Rev. David Brown, on Whit- 
 sunday, 1811, by the name of Abdool Messeeh. In 1812, he was 
 engaged as a catechist of the Church Missionary Society, and 
 accompanied Mr. Corrie, their Chaplain at Agra, to that sta- 
 tion. Between the teacher and pupil commenced a friendship 
 of the most endeared kind. After having been employed 
 about eight years as a catechist, he was ordained by the *Lu- 
 theran missionaries. After his ordination he was permitted to 
 pass unmolested, and was treated with respect in private. He 
 visited the principal cities in those regions, and by the sim- 
 plicity and uprightness of his conduct, and the lively and 
 
 The missionary recovered his health. E. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 461 
 
 interesting manner, in which, on every occasion, he introduce#^ 
 the subject of religion, he excited much attention. In De- 
 cember, 1825, he received episcopal ordination at the hands of 
 Bishop Heber. 
 
 Abdool Messeeh immediately after went to Lucknow, 
 where he resided, with the exception of a visit to Cawnpore, 
 till his death, which happened on the 4th of March, 1827, 
 occasioned by mortification proceeding from a neglected car- 
 buncle. He expressed himself perfectly resigned, and that 
 death had no fears for him ; for that our Saviour had deprived 
 death of its sting. The Resident, with other friends, kindly 
 attended the funeral, and read the burial service at the grave. 
 A monument has been erected to his memory, with an inscrip- 
 tion both in Persian and English. Bishop Heber thus remarks 
 about his appearance and character. ‘‘ He is a very fine old 
 man, with a magnificent gray beard, and of much more gen- 
 tlemanly manners than any Christian native whom I have seen 
 He is every way fit for Holy Orders, and is a most sincere 
 Christian, quite free, so far as I could observe, from all conceit 
 and enthusiasm. His long eastern dress, his long gray beard, 
 and his calm resigned countenance, give him already, almost 
 the air of an apostle.” E. 
 
 [ S. p. 423. ] 
 
 Results of the visit of Martyn to Persia. 
 
 Towards the close of his residence in Shiraz, Mr. Martyn 
 seems to have been treated with increased deference and 
 respect. The impression made upon the inhabitants, by his 
 humility, his patience and resignation, and his evident sin- 
 cerity and disinterestedness, is stated by Mr. Morier to have 
 been very powerful. The missionary, Wolfe, said, that he 
 had kindled a light in Persia, which would never go out. Sir 
 Robert Ker Porter bears a similar testimony. “ On leaving 
 its walls,” he remarks, “the apostle of Christianity found no 
 cause for shaking off* the dust of his feet against the Moham- 
 medan city. The inhabitants had received, cherished and lis- 
 39 * 
 
462 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 tened to him ; and he departed thence amid the blessings and 
 tears of many a Persian friend.” 
 
 The Asiatic Journal, for March, 1830, contains an interesting 
 article, under the title of “ An adventure at Shiraz.” Who the 
 author of it is we do not know. It contains, we think, strong 
 internal evidence of its genuineness. We cannot forbear 
 making a quotation. 
 
 Having received an invitation to dine (or rather sup) with 
 a Persian party in the city, I went, and found a number of 
 guests assembled. The conversation was varied— grave and 
 gay ; chiefly of the latter complexion. Poetry was often the 
 subject: sometimes philosophy, and sometimes politics, pre- 
 vailed. Among the topics discussed, religion was one. There 
 are so many sects in Persia, especially if we include the free- 
 thinking classes, that the questions which grow out of such 
 a discussion constitute no trifling resource for conversation. 
 I was called upon, though with perfect good-breeding and 
 politeness, to give an account of the tenets of our faith ; and 
 I confess myself sometimes embarrassed by the pointed queries 
 of my companions. Among the guests was a person who took 
 but little part in the conversation, and who appeared to be 
 intimate with none but the master of the house. He was a 
 man below the middle age, of a serious countenance and mild 
 deportment ; they called him Mohammed Rahem. I thought 
 that he frequently observed me with great attention, and 
 watched every word I uttered, especially when the subject 
 of religion was discussing. Once, when I expressed myself 
 with some levity, this individual fixed his eyes upon me 
 with such a peculiar expression of surprise, regret and re- 
 proof, that I was struck to the very soul, and felt a strange 
 mysterious wonder who this person could be. I asked private- 
 ly one of the party, who told me that he had been educated for 
 a Moollah, but had never officiated ; and that he was a man 
 of considerable learning, and much respected ; but lived re- 
 tired, and seldom visited even his most intimate friends. My 
 informant added, that his only inducement to join the party 
 had been the expectation of meeting an Englishman ; as he 
 was much attached to the English nation, and had studied our 
 language and learning. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 463 
 
 This information increased my curiosity; which I deter- 
 mined to seek an opportunity of gratifying, by conversing t^ith 
 the object of it. A few days afterward, I called upon Moham- 
 med Rahem, and found him reading a volume of Cowper’s 
 Poems ! This circumstance led to an immediate discussion 
 of the merits of English poetry, and European literature in 
 general. I was perfectly astonished at the clear and accurate 
 conceptions which he had formed upon these subjects, and at 
 the precision with which he expressed himself in English. We 
 discoursed on these and congenial topics for nearly two hours ; 
 till, at length, I ventured to sound his opinions on the subject 
 of religion. 
 
 “ You are a Moollah, I am informed.” 
 
 “No,” said he; “I was educated at a Madrussa (College), 
 but I have never felt an inclination to be one of the priest- 
 hood.” 
 
 “The exposition of your Religious Volume,” I rejoined, 
 “ demands a pretty close application to study : before a person 
 can be qualified to teach the doctrines of the Koran, I under- 
 stand he must thoroughly examine and digest volumes of com- 
 ments, which ascertain the sense of the text and the applica- 
 tion of its injunctions. This is a laborious preparation, if a 
 man be disposed conscientiously to fulfil his important func- 
 tions.” As he made no remark, I continued : “Our Scriptures 
 are their own expositors. We are solicitous only that they 
 should be read : and, although some particular passages 
 are not without difficulties, arising from the inherent obscurity 
 of language, the faults of translation, or the errors of copyists, 
 yet it is our boast, that the authority of our Holy Scriptures is 
 confirmed by the perspicuity and simplicity of their style, as 
 well as precepts.” 
 
 I was surprised that he made no reply to these observations. 
 At the hazard of being deemed importunate, I proceeded to 
 panegyrize the leading principles of Christianity, more par- 
 ticularly in respect to their moral and practical character ; 
 and happened, among other reflections, to suggest, that, as no 
 other concern was of so much importance to the human race 
 as religion, and as only one faith could be the right, the sub- 
 ject admitted not of being regarded as indifferent, though too 
 many did so regard it. 
 
464 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 ‘‘Do not YOU esteem it so ?” he asked. 
 
 “'Certainly not,” I replied. 
 
 “ Then your indifference at the table of our friend Meerza 
 Reeza, when the topic of religion was under consideration, 
 was merely assumed, out of complaisance to Mussulmans, I 
 presume ?” 
 
 I remembered the occasion to which he alluded ; and recog- 
 nized in his countenance the same expression, compounded 
 half of pity, half of surprise, which it then exhibited. I owned 
 that I had acted inconsistently, perhaps incautiously and im- 
 prudently : but I made the best defence I could ; and disavow- 
 ed, in the most solemn manner, any premeditated design to 
 contemn the religion which I profess. 
 
 “ I am heartily glad I was deceived,” he said ; “ for sincerity 
 in religion is our paramount duty. What we are, we should 
 never be ashamed of appearing to be.” 
 
 “ Are you a sincere Mussulman, then ?” I boldly asked. 
 
 An internal struggle seemed, for an instant, to agitate his 
 visage : at length he answered mildly, “ No.” 
 
 “ You are not a skeptic or freethinker 
 
 “No ; indeed I am not.” 
 
 “ What are you, then ?— Be you sincere. — Are you a Chris- 
 tian 
 
 “ I am,^’ he replied. 
 
 I should vainly endeavor to describe the astonishment which 
 seized me at this declaration. I surveyed Mohammed Rahem, 
 at first, with a look which, judging from its reflection from his 
 benign countenance, must have betokened suspicion, or even 
 contempt. The consideration that he could have no motive 
 to deceive me in this disclosure, which was of infinitely great- 
 er seriousness to himself than to me, speedily restored me to 
 recollection, and banished every sentiment but joy. I could 
 not refrain from pressing silently his hand to my lieart. 
 
 He was not unmoved at this transport ; but he betrayed no 
 unmanly emotions. He told me that I had possessed myself 
 of a secret, which, in spite of his opinion that it was the duty 
 of every one to wear his religion openly, he had hitherto con- 
 cealed, except from a few who participated in his own senti- 
 ments. 
 
 “ And whence came this happy change I asked. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 465 
 
 “ I will tell you that likewise,” he replied. « 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 follow- 
 ers of Mohammed ; and I visited this teacher of the despised 
 sect with the declared object of treating him with scorn, and 
 exposing his doctrines to contempt. Although I persevered 
 for some time in this behavior toward him, I found that every 
 interview not only increased my respect for the individual, but 
 diminished my confidence in the faith in which I was educated. 
 His extreme forbearance toward the violence of bia opponents, 
 the calm and yet convincing mannor in which he exposed 
 the fallacies and eopmstries 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 paying 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 of 
 it has formed my most delightful occupation — its contents have 
 often consoled me.” 
 
 Upon this he put into my hands a copy of the New Testa- 
 ment in Persian. On one of the blank leaves was written — 
 “ There is joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth — Henry 
 Martyn.” 
 
 Upon looking into the Memoir of Mr. Martyn, by Mr. Sar- 
 gent, one of the most delightful pieces of Biography in our 
 language, I cannot perceive therein any allusion to Mohammed 
 Rahem ; unless he be one of the young men who came from 
 
466 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 the College, “ full of zeal and logic,” to try him with hard 
 questions. 
 
 The following lines appeared a few years since, m a reli- 
 gious periodical. 
 
 Alone, and dying, hadst thou not a friend 
 O’er thy low couch in anxious hope to bend. 
 
 Watch thy last conflict, catch thy parting sigh. 
 
 Press the faint hand, and close the expiring eye ? 
 
 Wast thou alone ? was not the Saviour there ; 
 
 And the lone stranger his peculiar care ? 
 
 Yes, he was with thee ; thy Redeemer shed 
 Ills rays of glory round thy humble head ; 
 
 His Spirit led thee as thou jonrney’dst on, 
 
 Plis eye beheld thee from the eternal throno# 
 
 Thine the meek temper, thine the lowly mind. 
 
 The heart obedient and the will resigned ; 
 
 Prudence, that never slept, love uncontrolled. 
 
 And holy zeal, unconquerably bold. 
 
 Not the disciple favored of his Lord, 
 
 Spread with more fervor tidings of his word ; 
 
 Not the apostle to the Gentile world. 
 
 The Saviour’s banner with more joy unfurled. 
 
 Than thy rapt spirit hailed the dawning day. 
 
 That shed on Pagan night the Gospel ray ; 
 
 Saw Bethlehem’s star arise in Persia’s plains. 
 
 Heard hymns of triumph peal — “ Messiah reigns 
 Beheld the Saviour’s ensign raised on high. 
 
 Viewed the bent knee, and marked the uplifted eye ; 
 Mohammed’s conquests wither in the tomb. 
 
 And truth’s bright rays succeed to error’s gloom. 
 
 And when thy failing steps to Tocat strayed ; 
 
 When the weak frame refused to lend its aid ; 
 
 And the soul, anxious to begin its flight. 
 
 Sought to adore in uncreated light ; 
 
 Though no loved eye was there to pour the tear. 
 
 O’er thy wrecked hopes, thy meteor-like career, — 
 
 Wast thou alone ? — when Heaven to thee displayed 
 The crown of glory, that could never fade ; 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 467 
 
 When Seraph spirits tended as thou slept, 
 
 And hymns of Zion soothed thee as thou wept ? 
 Wast thou alone ? — when God himself was there, 
 Heard every sigh, and answered every prayer ? 
 
 No : — As to Calvary ofl thou turn’dst thine eyes. 
 And, more than conqueror, saw’st thy Lord arise ; 
 Saw’s t that the grave, the power of death and hell, 
 Against the eternal Son could not prevail ; 
 
 With dauntless steps the vale of death thou trod. 
 And found thy home in heaven, thy rest in God. 
 
 THE UfflIiRK Of THE 
 
 poT " P, 1Q7B 
 
 MUSVERSnY 0? ILLINOIS 
 


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