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tihvaxy of Che t:heolo0ical ^eminarjo 
 
 PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 Dr. Donald Roberta 
 
 BV 3705 .M3P3 1890 
 Page, Jesse. 
 
 Henry Martyn, his life and 
 labours 
 
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 vy^i;?i^ Cc - 
 
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^SFP24 1)4 
 
 Henry Martyn 
 
 HIS 
 
 CAMBRIDGE-IHDIA-PERSIA. 
 
 JESSE ^PAGE 
 
 AbTHOK OK "lUSHOP PATIESOM, IHK MAKIYK Ol-- MELANESIA," ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRA7T.D BY H. A\ MILLAR, ETC. 
 
 A chosen vessel, frail but richly blest 
 '1 With mercy's fragrant message, this outpoured 
 
 The dusky heathen breathed, and sought the Lord, 
 The sinner's Saviour and the perfect rest. 
 
 FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY, 
 
 NEW YORK. CHICAGO. 
 
 TORONTO. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 M^ 
 
 mind is in a chaos about him," said 
 Charles Kingsley, speaking one day of 
 Henry Martyn, " sometimes one feels 
 inclined to take him at his own word, 
 and believe him as he says, a mere hypochondriac, 
 then the next moment he seems a saint. I cannot 
 fathom it. Of this, however, I am certain, that he 
 was a much better man than I am." 
 
 This characteristic opinion fairly hits the general 
 impression, although, perhaps, many would fail to 
 round it off with the generous certainty of Kingsley's 
 closing words. Strange as it may seem, in an age 
 when missionary interest is at flood-tide, and the 
 heroisms of the field of God are being recognised 
 on every hand, Henry Martyn is comparatively 
 unknown. 
 
 V 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 On the horizon of the century he is dimly discerned, 
 a luminous shadow far away, but felt to be that of 
 one who was brave, and good, and suffering, who 
 toiled his life away for others, and died in almost 
 tragic solitude, friendless and alone. But distance 
 weakens the true influence of a man, though it may 
 glorify his memory; therefore, I have made the 
 endeavour in the pages of this book to correct the 
 focus of vision, and bring Henry Martyn, if possible, 
 a little nearer to us in clear and vivid outline, 
 instinct with reality and life. He is, indeed, a per- 
 sonality well worth the knowing. 
 
 In many respects this man continually reminds 
 one of Gordon ; for in him we see the same heroic idea 
 of duty, the same unselfishness and utter disregard of 
 personal ends, the same intimate and sustaining com- 
 munion with his God, the same humbling yet uplifting 
 sense of the reality and importance of the eternal 
 things unseen. Martyn was not less a warrior than 
 Gordon, fighting, indeed, with desperate valour, against 
 the foes of God and His Christ, and it was his destiny 
 also, alone in a land of fierce enemies, under a blue 
 Oriental sky, to fall at his flagstaff, loyal and true till 
 death. 
 / There is no danger of idealising a man like Martyn, 
 the difficulty rather lies in getting the background 
 black enough to do him justice. He was a pioneer, 
 let it always be remembered, and had to face 
 difficulties which, like a tangled African forest, must 
 be cut through with infinite patience and prevalent 
 prayer; his successors entering into the fruit of his 
 
nkt:fAcB. vii 
 
 labours have, in later days, found " in the wilderness 
 a highway for our God." Let any one take the 
 trouble to discover what were the prospects of mis- 
 sionary success under the East India Company, or in 
 the almost untrodden plains of Persia, with its 
 undisturbed Mohammedanism, and then estimate the 
 mettle of Henry Martyn's zeal for God. Dark, cruel, 
 and infernal, was his environment in the East, the 
 brave light of the truth flickering all the brighter 
 amid the gloom. 
 \^ Henry Martyn had an old-fashioned belief in the 
 power of the Bible, and the reality of the Devil. 
 There is something very refreshing in the loyal 
 reverence and confidence with which Henry Martyn, 
 in all his trials and difficulties, read, with an increas- 
 ing delight, the Word of God. His letters and journals 
 show how richly his memory was stored with texts, 
 and again and again we catch glimpses of his feeding 
 in the green pastures of the promises when assailed, 
 persecuted, and alone. It is not surprising, there- 
 fore, to find how much he valued the importance of 
 his incessant labours in translating the Holy Scriptures, 
 which he felt, even if no evangelist came to point the 
 way, were sufficient to make the heathen " wise unto 
 salvation." His belief in a real Devil was not less 
 assured, and the evidence of his existence, and evil 
 workings for the spiritual destruction of man, filled 
 his soul with indignation and sorrow. It is impossible 
 to understand this man unless from this standpoint ; 
 to those who have flabby ideas of good and evil, and 
 are busy in constructing a bridge of accommodation 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 between the two, to such of course his life and 
 character is fanaticism pure and simple. 
 
 Surely never was a man so utterly dissatisfied with 
 himself as Henry Martyn. His journals and letters 
 are introspective to a painful degree ; he seems to 
 bring every little motive, and the tenderest affections, 
 under the microscope of a self-criticism, which gener- 
 ally brings in a speedy verdict of guilty. One could 
 shed tears of pity over the picture of this sincere soul, 
 self- condemned, and eclipsed continually by the 
 gloomy theology of his time. Still, through all 
 these storms and drifting clouds the clear star of an 
 unshaken faith in Christ, reappearing ever, gleams 
 .brightly in his sky. 
 
 The mental constitution of Henry Martyn is a 
 complex study in metaphysics, and some of his 
 previous biographers have, from different bases of 
 judgment, very ably discussed the problem. In the 
 closing chapter of the present volume I have given a 
 brief bibliography of Martyn, indicating the views 
 taken by my predecessors in this interesting history 
 of a human soul. I cannot acknowledge sufficiently 
 my indebtedness to these excellent works of reference. 
 My thanks are also specially due to Mr. Henry Martyn 
 Jeffreys, M.A., F.R.S., for much special information as 
 regards his distinguished relative. An acknowledg- 
 ment is also due to friends both in Cambridge and 
 London who have kindly aided me in the work of 
 
 research. 
 
 Jesse Page. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE BOY AND THE STUDENT, II 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 THE CHOICE MADE, . .29 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OUTWARD BOUND, 44 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 INDIA FOR CHRIST, 60 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FACING THE ENEMY, 72 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 SORROW FORGOTTEN IN LABOUR, Sy 
 
 ix 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE WORD OF GOD FOR THE PEOPLE, . 
 
 PAGE 
 . . 98 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 BREAKS DOWN, 
 
 1 10 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PERSECUTION IN PERSIA, . 
 
 123 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ENTERS THE PRESENCE FOR EVERMORE, 
 
 134 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE MAN HIMSELF, . 
 
 147 
 
HENRY MARTYR 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE BOY AND THE STUDENT. 
 
 Teach me, my God and King, 
 
 In all things Thee to see. 
 And what I do in anything. 
 
 To do it as for Thee. 
 
 ■George Herbert. 
 
 CORNISHMEN, meet them where you will, are 
 always found possessed of a strong and proud 
 affection for the county wherein they were 
 born. They kindle with animated interest at 
 the mention of the land of " One and all," bearing with 
 them always that characteristic love of country which 
 a Scotchman experiences in no greater degree for his 
 native heather. 
 
 This loyalty is well-deserved. Cornwall is a mag- 
 nificent county, and has a history which invests its 
 wild scenery with names and events still cherished as 
 national memories. A witty Canon once remarked 
 
 II 
 
12 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 that England grows men in the north and trees in the 
 south, but this is certainly not true of Cornwall, for 
 she is the parent of noble sons. The bede roll of her 
 worthies includes the Arundels of chivalrous renown, 
 that gallant admiral Sir William Bligh, Sir Hum- 
 phry Davy who gave safe light to the miner in his 
 toil, Samuel Foote, the keen wit and satirist, the 
 courageous explorer Richard Lander, Opie the 
 painter, Trevethick the engineer, and last, not least, 
 the subject of the present memoir. 
 
 Henry Martyn is not counted as one of her 
 warriors, and yet he was as brave a knight as ever 
 carried the pennon of the Cross ; he crossed her bor- 
 der in his boyhood, but it was to win the highest 
 University honours, and though, dying in lonely 
 martyrdom on Persian soil, his ashes lie not in a 
 Cornish churchyard, his memory clings inseparably, 
 like a sweet fragrance, to ancient Truro and the hills 
 of Marazion. 
 
 The parentage of Martyn, like that of so many 
 J whose names have gained high honour, was of no 
 patrician order ; he sprang from the people, and 
 his biographers do not appear to have needlessly 
 wearied themselves in discovering for him an heraldic 
 line. About his father little apparently is preserved, 
 but what we know is entirely honourable. It has 
 been frequently stated by the biographers of his dis- 
 tinguished son that John Martyn worked as miner in 
 the famous lead mines of Gwennap — a place which has 
 quite a history, both past and present, as the gather- 
 ing ground of thousands of people for religious exer- 
 cises — but this has been demurred to by his present 
 representatives. It was at Gwennap pit that John 
 Wesley addressed some thousands of the miners of 
 
THE r.OY AND THE STUDENT. I3 
 
 the ncl^f^hbourhood on the unsearchable riches of the 
 Kinodom of God, and it is not improbable that amon^ 
 his vast auditory on that occasion, John Martyn, 
 though not actually a miner, might have found a 
 place. If such was the case, how marvellous is the 
 thought that the voice of the evangelist of the eigh- 
 teenth century was reaching the ear and heart of one 
 whose son was to be the pioneer missionary to the 
 heathen of the East. 
 
 This much, also, we glean of John Martyn's history, 
 that in those wearying days of toil, under circum- 
 stances and conditions infinitely worse than those 
 of the miners of to-day, this man found opportunity 
 for the attainment of knowledge, educating himself in 
 the simpler branches of study. We understand that 
 the present Archbishop of Canterbury, in an address 
 delivered at Truro on the i8th of February, 1881, 
 gave it as his opinion that Henry Martyn " must have 
 descended frorfi an ancient humble family, for there 
 was a John Martyn at Gwennap in 1695, father of 
 the Thomas Martyn who made the famous map of 
 Cornwall." The probability is that Mr. John Martyn 
 belonged to a family of mine agents or captains, men 
 who held good positions of trust and experience, and 
 it is stated that he was as a young man put as 
 accountant at the Wheal Virgin Mine, living with his 
 young family at Gwennap Church-town. From this 
 place, however, he presently migrated to Truro, enter- 
 ing the office of a Mr. Daniel of that town, where he 
 remained for many years, rising in position and in the 
 esteem of his employer. This, then, was Martyn's 
 father, dimly seen through the haze of a century, a 
 tall man of erect bearing, quietly taking his constitu- 
 tional after office hours along the old-fashioned 
 
>y 
 
 A 
 
 14 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 irregular Truro streets. The lady whom he had 
 married was a Miss Fleming, of Ilfracombe, about 
 whom still less is known, save that she was delicate 
 and consumptive. The table of the merchant's clerk 
 seems to have been graced with many olive branches, 
 all, however, more or less frail, and withering early, so 
 that, when the father was laid to rest, only four sur- 
 vived to linger but a few years ere they too were 
 called away. One of these was Henry, who was born 
 on the 1 8th of February, 1781. 
 
 That " the boy is father of the man " has become 
 such a generally accepted doctrine that there is a little 
 danger in always insisting on the recognition of those 
 lines of character in early life which shall forecast 
 future fame. Doubtless, in many cases the presenti- 
 ment of genius and power is early portrayed, but in 
 not a few instances a grand and influential career has 
 grown out of a very prosaic and undistinguished boy- 
 hood. It is not so much in the child as in the young 
 man that we should look for signs of promise, when 
 the boyish environment is exchanged for the school of 
 life, and the realities of living begin to be appreciated, 
 for it is then the true lineaments of character appear. 
 Such at any rate was the case with Henry Martyn. 
 Piecing carefully together the little scraps of informa- 
 tion which exist as to his early days,'we cannot find 
 that he materially impressed his contemporaries who 
 sat on the form at school with him, with any sense of 
 his intellectual and moral superiority. He is described 
 by one of them as *' a good-humoured, plain, little fellow, 
 with red eyelids devoid of eyelashes, indicative of a 
 scrofulous habit,'! and all accounts agree in describing 
 him as a weak and ailing boy. He was, like most 
 others of delicate constitution, shy and unobtrusive ; 
 
THE BOV AND THE STUDENT. 
 
 15 
 
 he avoided the boisterous games of others, and found 
 himself out of touch with that healthy excitement 
 which adds so much to the charm of school life. It 
 however, said of him that he was fond of the 
 
 IS 
 
 younger boys, and doubtless his inoffensive and 
 sympathetic disposition would attract them. ]^ut, 
 h'ke Cowpcr, from the elder lads he received rough 
 
 treatment, probably had to " fag " for some, and 
 would have suffered many more indignities had it not 
 been for the chivalrous protection afforded him by 
 one who not only was his champion at school, but 
 had to be his wise counsellor and friend in after 
 years. 
 
 Henry Martyn had the advantage of entering, at 
 
l5 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 the early age of seven, one of the best schools in 
 Cornwall. Dr. Cornelius Cardew, its master, was a 
 man of no mean attainments, and seems to have had 
 the happy art of understanding the characteristics of 
 his numerous pupils. Martyn had not been long 
 under his care before he had pretty fairly reckoned 
 up the boy, and the impression he then formed he 
 has happily treasured. " He did not fail," says Dr. 
 Cardew, " to answer the expectations which had been 
 formed of him, his proficiency in the classics exceeded 
 that of most of his schoolfellows, 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 loving, 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 prepara- 
 tion — as if he had learnt it by intuition." 
 
 Still he must have had some working ambition in 
 ihim, or he would not have had the courage to aim so 
 /high as to offer himself as a candidate for a scholar- 
 f ship at Corpus Christi College, Oxford, in the closing 
 months of the year 1795. Something there must 
 have been, too, of promise in the boy, for it was at the 
 urgent desire of his friends that he essayed so great 
 a venture for a lad of fourteen. In the examination, 
 he did well, but failed to gain the scholarship, return- 
 ing somewhat sadly, no doubt, to the academic roof 
 of Dr. Cardew once more. 
 
 Years afterwards, when he had reached man's estate, 
 he reverted to this incident with that grateful sense of 
 the over-ruling providence of God, which was the 
 marked characteristic of his life. He wrote then in his 
 journal : — " In the autumn of 1795, my father at the 
 
THE I50Y AND TIIF STUDENT. 17 
 
 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 
 ]^:xetcr Collci;e 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 acquaintances I should have had there, 
 would have introduced me to scenes of debauchery, 
 in which I must in all probability, from my extreme 
 }'OUth, have sunk for ever." In this, Martyn rightly 
 discerned the hand of God, who had for him some 
 better thing in store, even that of witnessing for the 
 Cross in far-off lands. 
 
 He stayed two more years at school, making 
 further progress with his studies, where, indeed, we 
 will now leave him standing expectant on the thres- 
 hold of his distinguished academic career. 
 
 If Cornwall is proud of the parentage of Martyn, not 
 less does Cambridge treasure his name in her lists of 
 University honours. When in the month of October, ^ 
 I797> he entered St. John's College, Cambridge, it was, 
 though possibly he little thought so then, one of those 
 turnijig points which really determined not only the 
 future^of his work in the world, but the establishment 
 of his own character. He seems to have thrown 
 himself into the current of a hard reader, and what 
 application he may have lacked in the days of his 
 boyhood was amply supplied when his University! 5 
 career began. Before the {c\n months left of his firsV 
 term had expired, he had by dint of arduous study 
 gained a first-class place in the College examination, 
 
V 
 
 1 8 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 and he again won a good position in the examination 
 of the following year. Two things were helpful to 
 him at this time, one the laudable desire to gratify 
 his father, who seems to have had a strong faith in 
 his son's future advancement, the other being the 
 presence and help of that steadfast friend, who had 
 stood by him at school and now exercised a sort of 
 elder-brotherly influence over him at the University. 
 Had it not been for this discreet adviser, Henry 
 Martyn would have allowed himself to lose precious 
 time in the companionship of his many acquaintances 
 at the College. 
 
 He went home during the vacation, and, in his 
 subsequent journal, he has referred to that visit in 
 the spirit of self-depreciation which is so strongly 
 exhibited in every page of his writing. There is no 
 reason to suppose that he was otherwise than of an 
 amiable temperament, and a good son to those who 
 loved him so well in the old home at Truro. There 
 is certainly one occasion on record when a fit of 
 passion seized him at table, and he hastily flung a 
 knife at one of his companions who had offended him 
 in some way. Fortunately, the missile missed its 
 mark, and the occurrence caused him poignant regret 
 and humiliation for a long time afterwards. The 
 [truth is that up to this time, Henry Martyn had not 
 I become a Christian. Although in outward observ- 
 ance his conduct may have been all that could be 
 desired, it is evident that the young student had not 
 come into living and personal contact with the 
 Saviour, in whose service he was destined ere long to 
 become so useful and honoured. He had those who 
 prayed for him and sought his spiritual good, and 
 he tells us that his friend at the University had 
 
ST. John's college, Cambridge 
 
 19 
 
Till': i;<)\' AM) IJIK STUDMXT. 21 
 
 " attempted to persuade mc that I oiii,dit to attend to 
 reading, not for the praise of men but for the glory 
 of God. This seemed strange to me, but reasonable. 
 I resolved, therefore, to maintain this opinion thence- 
 forth, but never designed, that I can remember, that 
 it should affect my conduct." 
 
 But the most potent influence brought to bear upon 
 Henry Martyn in this respect was that of his sister at! 
 home whose life and example were those of a consist-i 
 cnt servant of Jesus Christ. When he was in Cornwall 
 she did not cease to urge upon him the importance of 
 decision, showing him the claims of Christ and the 
 happiness which is in store for those who, by His 
 grace, work for His glory. Judging from his own 
 retrospect of this visit, he does not seem to have 
 given the saintly woman much room for encourage- 
 ment. Possibly the love of academic fame was his 
 stumbling-block, and with such a pride on his heart he 
 would be little inclined to think on the deep things of 
 God. Although it must be believed that he overstates 
 the case against himself in these words, we cannot do 
 better than hear his own impressions at this time. 
 He writes this when, as a Christian, he could feel great 
 grief at having disregarded his sister's admonitions : 
 — " I think I do not remember a time in which the 
 wickedness of my heart rose to a greater height than 
 during my stay at home. The consummate selfish- 
 ness and exquisite irritability of my mind here dis- 
 pla}'ed 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 ; oh what an example 
 of patience and meekness was he ! I love to think of 
 his excellent qualities, and it is frequently the anguish 
 
22 HENRY MARTi^N. 
 
 of my heart that I ever could be base and wicked 
 enough to pain him by the slightest neglect. O my 
 God and Father, why is not Thy heart doubly agon- 
 ised at the remembrance of all my great transgres- 
 sions 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." 
 
 But what the living could not do, the dead accom- 
 plished. Henry Martyn had scarcely settled down 
 again to his studies, losing in his intense love of 
 mathematics the promised interest in heavenly things, 
 when news reached him that his father was no more. 
 The shock was such as any loving son might feel, 
 but in his case the grief was aggravated by the fact 
 that he had paid such scant attention to the pious 
 counsel of this parent now for ever removed. Stunned 
 by such a sudden bereavement, he was led to seek 
 some real source of comfort and satisfaction in his 
 trouble. 
 
 i He tells us that he laid aside his books and began 
 (to read his neglected Bible,, not with any deeper 
 desire at first than to please his friend, who seems at 
 this juncture to have again approached him on the 
 subject of giving his heart to God. He opened his 
 Bible at the Acts of the Apostles, and read on with 
 interest until the Epistles claimed his attention. That 
 night Henry Martyn, though as yet but dimly and 
 imperfectly apprehending the truth, knelt down at his 
 bedside and prayed a prayer of sincere thanksgiving 
 to God for sending His Son into the world to die for 
 sinners. His attendance at the College chapel also 
 stimulated his aroused convictions, and a copy of Dr. 
 
THE BOY AND THE STUDENT. 23 
 
 Doddridge's " Rise and Progress of Religion in the 
 Soul " coming into his hand, caused the young student 
 much searching of heart. 
 
 The approach of another examination called him 
 back to his studies, and when the list appeared his 
 name stood first, an honour which was dashed with the 
 thought that the success had come too late for a father's 
 joy. lie writes, however, to his sister, and amongst 
 his letter sentiments, which are far more precious to 
 her than the place he had gained in the examination, 
 he tells her, " What a blessing it is for me that I have 
 
 such a sister as you, my dear , who have been so 
 
 instrumental in keeping me in the right way. When 
 I consider how little human assistance you have had, 
 and the great knowledge to which you have attained 
 on the subject of religion — especially observing the 
 extreme ignorance of the most wise and learned 
 of this world, I think this is in itself a mark of the 
 wonderful influence of the Holy Ghost in the mind of 
 well-disposed persons. . . . 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. . . . Oh, I do indeed feel this state of mind at 
 times, but at other times I feel quite troubled at find- 
 ing 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 experi- 
 ence tells us that with Him only true pleasure is to be 
 found, seem to be owing to Satanic influence. Though 
 I think my employment in life gives me 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 labourer as he drives on his plough, and the 
 
24 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 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 my studies requires such a deep abstraction 
 of the mind from all other things, as to render it com- 
 pletely incapable of anything else, and that during 
 many hours of the day. With regard 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 particularise. 
 
 "After the death of our father, you know, I was 
 extremely low-spirited, and, like most other people, 
 began to consider very seriously, without any particu- 
 lar 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. 
 
 " Through the whole, however, even when the light 
 of Divine truth was beginning to dawn on my mind, 
 I was not under that great terror of future punishment 
 which I now sec plainly I had every reason to feel. 
 I now look back 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, error, and blindness." 
 
TIIH i;OV AND '111 10 STUOKNT. 25 
 
 These words evidence thus early in In's career that 
 intense self-dissatisfaction and humility which so 
 strongly characterise the whole of Henry Martyn's 
 brief but eventful career. He was perpetually con- 
 demning himself. 
 
 The heart of Martyn at this stage was actuated by 
 two strong impulses, which unfortunately he could 
 not recognise except in antagonism — these were an 
 earnest ambition to succeed in his academic studies, 
 and an equally strong desire " to flee from the wrath 
 to come." The time was drawing near for that great 
 examination which should, in the opinion of his friends 
 at college, place him very high in the list of honours ; 
 and in order to acquit himself well, the young student 
 of St. John's worked incessantly at his books. He 
 seems to have conquered the want of application 
 which was the defect of his school-days, and although 
 on his entry into College he began his mathematics by 
 committing to memory the problems of Euclid, he 
 had evidently by this time become one of the- most 
 systematic hard readers in the University. And yet 
 with all this industry there is the painful struggle 
 going on within, to him a very lusting of the flesh 
 against the Spirit, a battle of motives for ever occa- 
 sioned by a suspicion of his mental aims being sub- 
 versive of the prosperity of his awakened soul. He 
 accurately gauges his feelings in a retrospective note 
 relating to this period. 
 
 " I can only account," he writes, " for my being 
 stationary so long, by the intcnscness with which 
 I pursued my studies, in which I was so absorbed, 
 that the time I gave to them seemed not to be a 
 portion of my existence. That in which I now see 
 I was lamentably deficient was a humble and contrite 
 
26 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 Spirit, through which I should have perceived more 
 clearly the excellency of Christ. The eagerness, too, 
 with which I looked forward to my approaching 
 examination for degrees, too clearly betrayed a heart 
 not dead to the world." 
 
 When the time came for the students to enter the 
 
 Senate House, amongst the crowd of young men, 
 
 Martyn was alone possibly in the assurance, not of 
 
 certain victory, but of self-abasement. A text of 
 
 Scripture, upon which he had some time before 
 
 listened to a stirring discourse, was prominently in 
 
 his mind: " Seekest thou great things for thyself — 
 
 seek them not ; " and although he had not attained to 
 
 a very high maturity in Christian experience, he 
 
 knew enough to steady himself by faith upon God in 
 
 r^ this critical hour. When the result was made known, 
 
 Henry Martyn became the centre of congratulating 
 
 /riends, for he had attained to the highest honour which 
 
 s/ the University could bestow, that of senior wrangler of 
 
 his year. At such a moment, especially when we 
 
 consider in what spirit he entered the contest, we can 
 
 well imagine that the colour of conscious honour 
 
 would flush the pale cheek of the successful student. 
 
 But from the pressing crowd of those who would 
 
 rejoice with him, he seems to have turned almost 
 
 ; sadly away, and his own words are, " I obtained my 
 
 / highest wishes, but was surprised to find that I had 
 
 / grasped a shadow." 
 
 Soon afterwards we find him spending a vacation in 
 the old Cornish home, where doubtless the empty 
 chair of his father moved his sensitive spirit even 
 more than the happy greetings of his sisters and 
 old friends. For his native town and country he had 
 won a public honour, and wherever he went, the praise 
 
THE V.OV AND TllK STUDKNT. 2y 
 
 of men, of which he had always a perfect horror, met 
 him on his way. I lis mind was still ill at ease, and with 
 all his religious scruples, the peace of a real surrender 
 had not filled his soul. It was during this period that 
 his sister faithfully and affectionately pressed upon 
 him the claims of Christ, seeing with her pious inten- 
 tion that there was something to which her brother 
 had not yet attained, and which he must reach if his 
 great talents and his earnest heart were to be wholly 
 given to the service of his God. Her words seem to 
 have impressed him very much, and after his return 
 to the University, it became his wont to wander forth 
 alone, shunning companionship and seeking only to 
 experience a real communion with that Divine Spirit 
 which was drawing him to a point of absolute and 
 happy decision. Light was breaking into the heart of 
 the young graduate. " God was pleased to bless the 
 solitude and retirement I enjoyed this summer," he 
 writes, "to my improvement, and not till 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." 
 
 But as Evangelist appeared in the way of Christian 
 to point to the wicket gate of salvation,j so a faithful 
 and fatherly guide stood in the path of Henry Martyn 
 in the person of the Rev. Charles Simeon. It is quite 
 possible that the text which rested in hts^ieart as he 
 went up for the examination for degrees, had been 
 heard from Mr. Simeon's lip.s, for Martyn had already 
 for some time past been a regular attendant upon 
 his evangelical ministry. Soon he made himself 
 personally known to this devout minister of God, 
 and the whole tenour of his after life was strikingly 
 
28 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 affected by this providential association. The imme- 
 diate results were that Martyn became a Christian, " a 
 vessel meet for the Master's use," he entered the 
 companionship of a number of earnest and devoted 
 young men, and was led to consecrate himself entirely 
 to God's service instead of following his original 
 intention of being a lawyer, which profession, he 
 humbly remarks, he had set his mind upon, " chiefly 
 because he could not consent to be poor for Christ's 
 sake." 
 
 In the midst of his new-found joy and the zeal 
 which was already prompting the heart of Henry 
 Martyn to attempt great things in Christ's name, he 
 did not forget his sister, and a short extract from his 
 letter to her, dated in September, 1801, shall close this 
 chapter : — 
 I " That you may be enabled to do the will of your 
 Heavenly Father shall be, you may be assured, my 
 constant prayer at the throne of grace, and this as well 
 from the desire of promoting the edification of Christ's 
 body upon earth, as from motives of private gratitude. 
 You have been the instrument in the hands of Provi- 
 dence of bringing me to a serious sense of things ; for, 
 at the time of my father's death, I was using such 
 methods of alleviating my sorrow as I almost shudder 
 to recollect. But blessed be God I have now experi- 
 enced 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." 
 
isiiii! 
 
 THE OLD EAST INDIA HOUSE. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE CHOICE MADE. 
 
 The love of Christ doth me constrain 
 ^ To seek the wandering souls of men, 
 
 -x" With cries, entreaties, tears, to save, 
 
 To snatch them from the gaping grave. 
 
 John Wesiry. 
 
 THE flame of one brave life lights the lamp in 
 many other hearts. It would not be difficult 
 to trace the grand decision which directed the 
 footstep of some true man into a career of 
 enlarged and honourable service for Christ, to a word 
 spoken or read, which revealed in the example of 
 another what glorious possibilities of faith lie within 
 reach. It is not so much sermons as facts, not pre- / '^ 
 
 cepts but lives which mightily move men. Thus he '- " 
 
 who fights a good fight in God's name, not only wins 
 
 a victory over His enemies, but animates with heroic 
 
 energy his comrades under the banner of the Cross. 
 
 This was true of Mart) n. , When Jonathan 
 
 29 
 
i^< 
 
 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 Edwards wrote his Memoir of David Brainerd, he 
 little thought the story of the apostle to the Indians 
 would fall into the hands of one who, kindled thereby, 
 would one day become an equally famous and honoured 
 missionary in a far field. The decision of Henry 
 Martyn to offer himself for foreign service was largely 
 due to his perusal of that simple but inspiring narrative. 
 
 He had been spending his vacation in a walking 
 tour among the Welsh mountains, renewing his 
 strength and tone after much laborious study. His 
 diary shows us that in these excursions his mind was 
 full of serious thoughts. Passing down the Mersey in a 
 small boat, amid rather stormy and perilous weather, 
 he makes the following reflections on his position : — 
 
 " I think there was some danger, but 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. Still, I had sufficiently near views 
 of death to be uneasy on considering how slothful 
 I had been in doing the Lord's work, and what little 
 meetness I possessed for the kingdom of glory. Lo, 
 arise then, O my soul, to be always ready for the 
 coming of the Lord ; that no disquieting fear may 
 arise to perplex thee in that awful hour." 
 ;' He spent much time in meditation, and was con- 
 stantly reading his Bible, from which occupation he 
 grew stronger every day in spirit, and more thankful 
 for the providence of God in his position and pros- 
 pects. Full of the old self-condemnation, this fragment 
 of his inner thoughts at that time reveals, however, a 
 not unfettered exercise of the privileges of God's grace. 
 Everything he sees, whether it be a mountain pass 
 or a group of people, seems to prompt an unfavour- 
 able comparison as regards his own heart. He tells 
 
THE CHOICE MADE. 
 
 31 
 
 US of an incident near the bridc^c of Abcrt^lasHn. " I 
 met a poor Welsh pedlar," he writes in his private 
 
 BRIDGE OF ABERGLASLIN. 
 
 diary ; " with a bundle of hats upon his back, who, on 
 my enquiring the distance to Pcny-Bwlch, told me he 
 was going thither. We went by the old road, which 
 
32 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 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 Carnarvon that day with an enormous 
 bundle, and pointed, with a sorrowful look, to his head, 
 and, indeed, he did look very ill ; he was, however, 
 very cheerful : what a difference between this man's 
 temper and my own ! The difference was humbling 
 to myself— when shall I learn ' in whatsoever state 
 I am therewith to be content ' ? 
 
 " 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 my thoughts were turned towards God. 
 But if I cannot be thankful to Him and sensible of 
 His presence in seasons of fatigue as well as in periods 
 of enjoyment, how can I distinguish the working of 
 the Spirit from the ebullitions of animal joy ? " 
 
 When Henry Martyn returned to Cambridge much 
 refreshed by his walks across the breezy Welsh hills, 
 he had also made some notable advances in his 
 Christian experience. He was possessed with the 
 grand idea of giving himself entirely to the work of 
 God, and had already been lifted into a spiritual view 
 of things which gave the praise of man and the 
 advantages of social station their due proportions when 
 compared with the claims of a Divine call. His 
 solitary habit, unusual in one of his years, had given 
 him abundant opportunity to consider his future 
 career, and, as his Bible was ever his constant com- 
 
TIIH CHOICE MADE. 33 
 
 panlon, it became In this crisis of decision a real 
 "lamp unto his feet." It must not be forgotten how 
 great was the influence for good which his sister 
 wielded over the mind and heart of the future 
 missionary. Deprived by the death of his mother, 
 during his infancy, of that gentle and abiding direc- 
 tion which a boy never forgets and can never over- 
 value, Henry Martyn looked to his elder sister from 
 early life for such guidance. When first at College and 
 standing in perilous places, it will be remembered how 
 her letters constantly pressed upon him the importance 
 of the claims of God, and when he returned home with 
 academic honours thick upon him it was this sister 
 who scarcely congratulated him in the deep solicitude 
 she felt in looking for some sign of a regenerate heart 
 set upon the prize of a high calling in Christ Jesus. 
 With this sister then, at the period of his life now 
 passing under review, he had much pleasant and 
 profitable converse, and it is not difficult to conjecture 
 how, in talking over his future, her advice and encour- 
 agement would influence the ultimate decision of the 
 young graduate. 
 
 We are told, however, by his biographer and friend 
 that Henry Martyn's immediate desire for the office 
 and work of a missionary was prompted by a sermon, in 
 which the Rev. Charles Simeon, pleading for missions, 
 drew attention to the fact that in India there was only 
 one witness for Christ, Dr. Carey. This telling fact^ 
 seems to have given direction to the longings of the\ 
 heart of Henry Martyn to proclaim the Gospel to the \ 
 heathen. But, perhaps, in a greater degree, was his/ 
 ardour fired by the study at this time of the life of 
 David Brainerd, to which previous reference has 
 been made. The attraction which he felt for this 
 
 C 
 
34 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 noble example may be well understood. There was 
 a sympathetic bond between him and the young 
 American, who, at almost his own age, turned his 
 back upon the pleasures of home and the comforts of 
 civilised society, to enter alone, like a true Knight of 
 the Cross, the dark and tangled forest of Indian 
 superstition and sin. Then the ascetic self-sacrifice 
 of the man, his disregard of even the commonest 
 requirements of life, and the burning zeal which thus 
 early marked him for martyrdom, roused the ambition 
 of Henry Martyn. Perhaps, most of all, it was that in 
 Brainerd's spiritual experience he saw a strange like- 
 ness to his own. He was an intensely introspective 
 man who loved that loneliness which possibly, in his 
 case too, was not the best thing for him. These are 
 the words which, in the journal of David Brainerd, 
 caught the eye and filled the heart of the young 
 Cambridge student : — 
 
 "About six at night I lost my way in the wilder- 
 ness and wandered over rocks and mountains, down 
 hideous steeps, through swamps and most dreadful 
 and most dangerous places. ... I have frequently 
 been thus exposed, and sometimes lain out the whole 
 night, but God has hitherto preserved me and blessed 
 be His name ! such fatigues and hardships as these 
 serve to wean me from the earth, and I trust will make 
 heaven the sweeter. ... I have no comfort of any 
 kind but what I have in God. I live in the most 
 lonesome wilderness, and have but one person to 
 converse with that can speak English, an Indian. 
 I have no fellow-Christian to whom I can unbosom 
 myself I live poorly with regard to the comforts of 
 this life, most of my diet consists of boiled corn. . . . 
 I lodge on a bundle of straw, my labour is hard and 
 
THE CHOICE MADE. 35 
 
 extremely difficult, and I have little appearance of 
 success to comfort me. The Indians have no land to 
 live on but what the Dutch people lay claim to, and 
 threaten to drive them off from ; they have no regard 
 for the souls of the poor savages, and from what 
 I learn they hate me because I came to preach to 
 them. /)/// that ivhich makes all my difficulties 
 grievous to be borne is tJiat God hides His face from 
 me'' 
 
 Doubtless as Henry Martyn read these words his 
 eye kindled with a holy ambition to follow one — 
 
 " Who climbed the steep ascent to heaven 
 Mid sorrow, toil and pain," 
 
 and clasping his hands he would there and then vow 
 that if God would count him worthy of such a mission 
 he would count nothing loss to attain so grand a 
 destiny as to follow in his train. He could, too, already 
 claim spiritual fellowship with a man who had his 
 darkening soul-shadows, and whose crushing sense of 
 unworthiness threw into relief the glory of the grace 
 of God. And then the fact that David Brainerd at 
 the age of only thirty- two years ended his full and 
 apostolic life, invested him wnth heroic interest for one 
 who knew that for him life must be a brief portion, 
 and who longed passionately to expend those few 
 allotted years to the highest ends. 
 
 These thoughts are burning in his mind when he 
 writes to the sister, already alluded to in a previous 
 page, to whom he has evidently already committed 
 the secret of his new and ardent resolve : — 
 
 " 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 and more in tlie 
 
36 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 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 from that to 
 the Ephesians ; though I do not seem to have given 
 you. a right view of my state. The dejection I some- 
 times labour under seems not to arise from doubts of 
 my acceptance with God, though it tends to pro- 
 duce them ; nor from desponding views of my own 
 backwardness in the Divine life, for I am more prone 
 to self-dependence and conceit ; but from the prospect 
 of the difficulties I have to 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 miser- 
 able. 
 
 " You will best enter into my views by considering 
 those texts which seem to recall me to a right aspect 
 of things. I have not that coldness in prayer you 
 would expect, 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 per- 
 ceive it to be my most reasonable service. How it 
 may be when the trial comes I know not, yet I will 
 trust and be not afraid. In order to do His will 
 cheerfully, I want love for the souls of men ; to stiffer 
 it, I want humility ; let these be the subjects of your 
 
THE CHOICE MADE. 37 
 
 supplications for mc. 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 signify whether we be rich or poor if we are the 
 sons of God? How unconscious are they of their 
 real greatness, and they will be so until they find 
 themselves in glory ! When we contemplate our ever- 
 lasting 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 ' ! " 
 
 This extract will prepare the student of Henry 
 Martyn's life for that fluctuation of light and shadow 
 peace, perplexity, and self-abasement, which mark hi« 
 spiritual experience all through. But, with all his 
 sense of unfitness, he could not resist the evident call 
 of God to the work, and therefore offered himself to 
 the Committee of the Church Missionary Society, then 
 known as "The Church Missionary Society for Africa 
 aad the East." As the sequel proved, it was not to 
 be that, when Martyn made his essay as a missionary, 
 he should be sent out under the auspices of that 
 excellent and useful Society which is still among us, 
 foremost in the propagation of the Gospel of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 A year elapsed, the record of which is left to us 
 in a journal which almost painfully lays bare the 
 heart of the writer. He has been reading Butler's 
 " Analogy " with evident profit, and also strengthens 
 his missionary zeal by perusing the work of Dr. 
 Vandcrkemp in China, the claims of that country 
 being pressed very much home to him. He was an 
 early riser, and his habit seems to have been to get 
 into the lanes and fields at half-past five, preparing 
 by meditation what he called " a right spirit and a 
 
38 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 happy frame " for the hours of the day. These quiet 
 times in the fresh morning air were seasons of peace 
 and tranquiUity to his mind, and when after his walk 
 he entered the College chapel, he could not find words 
 to express his exaltation of soul. He loved music, 
 and yet, in his enjoyment of it, was the same haunting 
 dread of its engrossing temptations. " At chapel," he 
 writes, "the sacred melodies 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 a humble and dependent spirit, 
 for then, perceiving underneath me the Everlasting 
 Arms, I can enjoy my security. Amid the joyous 
 affections of this day, I quickly forgot my own worth- 
 lessness and helplessness, and thus, looking off from 
 Jesus, found myself standing on slippery ground. 
 But oh 1 the happiness of that state where pride shall 
 never intrude to make one's joys an occasion of 
 sorrow." 
 
 At this time a young man came to the University, 
 upon the introduction of Southey, the Poet Laureate, 
 and with the kindly help and fatherly welcome of the 
 Rev. Charles Simeon, and entered St. John's College. 
 This was Henry Kirke White, the sweet and accom- 
 plished poet of Nottingham, whose life like the rolling 
 dewdrop on the leaf 
 
 " Sparkled, was exhaled, and rose to heaven." 
 
 I The new comer and Martyn soon became fast 
 friends ; both achieved distinction in their academic 
 careers, both were devoted Christians, and both were 
 carried off early by the same insidious disease. The 
 young men had much in common, therefore, and we 
 
 /. 
 
THE CHOICE MADE. 39 
 
 find that Martyn exerted himself to assist in every 
 way his pale-faced poet friend in his progress at the 
 University. The latter, however, had not long to live, 
 his wasting industry hastened the inroads of con- 
 sumption, and soon his name became a sweet remem- 
 brance, leaving only a few poems of undoubted genius 
 and the record of a life prematurely cut short, but 
 nobly lived. 
 
 The autumn of the year 1S03 brought Henry \ 
 Martyn the solemn and impressive service of ordina- \ 
 tion as deacon in the Church of England. This took \ 
 place at Ely Cathedral on the 22nd of October, and in J 
 due time he commenced his sacred labours as curate 
 to the Rev. Charles Simeon, in Holy Trinity Church, 
 Cambridge, having also the oversight of the parish of 
 Lohvorth, a village near the University. His first 
 sermon there was upon the text from Job xiv. 14, 
 " If a man die, shall he live again ? all the days of 
 my appointed time will I wait, till my change come." 
 From these words the young minister preached with 
 earnestness and solemnity, as of a man to whom the 
 responsibility of preaching the Gospel to perishing 
 men was a weighty matter. On the following Sunday 
 he preached there again, and an incident is recorded 
 in his journal which made a marked impression on 
 his mind at the time. The service was over, and he 
 had mounted his horse to return to Cambridge, when 
 an aged man stepped up to his side and entered into 
 conversation with him. With deep seriousness his 
 venerable companion exhorted him as he walked by 
 his side, " warning him to reflect that if any souls 
 perished through his negligence, their blood would be 
 required at his hands. He exhorted him to show his 
 hearers that they were perishing sinners, to be much 
 
 6 
 
40 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 engaged in prayer ; and to labour after an entire 
 departure of himself to Christ" This faithful saying 
 of an old saint was not lost upon the young divine, 
 and he thankfully set himself to carry out such good 
 /advice. Especially did he recognise his need of the 
 exhortation to get away from self to Christ. " From 
 what he said on the last head," Martyn writes, with 
 humility and teachableness, " it was clear that I had 
 had but little experience, so I lifted up my heart 
 afterwards to the Lord that I might be fully instructed 
 in righteousness." 
 
 j The beginning of the year 1804 brought unexpected 
 changes in the position of Henry Martyn, inasmuch 
 as misfortune befell the family in the loss of the slender 
 but sufficient patrimony which had accrued to the 
 cKildren on the death of their father. It was a blow 
 to the young curate, for while he could well afford to 
 continue his own position with the pupils who were 
 always ready to have the advantage of his services, he 
 felt that henceforth his sisters would be dependent 
 upon him, a duty which he felt to be a privilege, but 
 .which must interfere materially with his aspirations 
 ' for the Mission field. So much did this affect his 
 spirits that he began, as so many sensitive souls do 
 ever, to question whether what looked like an insup- 
 erable difficulty was not sent of God to thwart him in 
 running where he was not sent. The crisis was a 
 bitter one, and feeling quite unable to settle what was 
 his duty by himself, he hurried to London to consult 
 his friends as to the best course for him to adopt. 
 They seem to have solved the difficulty by exerting 
 themselves to get him a chaplaincy abroad, which 
 should, at the same time, not prevent him being of 
 service to his sisters at home. 
 
THE CHOICE MADE. 4I 
 
 lie found two good and influential friends by 
 introduction from the Rev. Charles Simeon ; these 
 were William Wilberforcc and Charles Grant, both 
 members of the House of Commons. They were 
 full of an enthusiasm for humanity, and directly the 
 case of Martyn was brought before them, they readily 
 responded to the appeal for help. Instantly, the 
 matter was brought under the notice of that pious 
 coterie — Babington, Stephen, Henry Thornton, Lord 
 Tcignmouth and Mr. Venn ; and Mr. Grant, who was 
 on the Board of the East India Company, felt that a 
 field for such a man as Martyn lay among the natives 
 of the East. It would be difficult in these days, when 
 the praise of Missions is in all lands, and doors innum- 
 erable are being opened to them, to understand the 
 difficulties, especially in India, which were placed in 
 the way of missionaries. It must not be forgotten 
 how Dr. Judson was driven by official distrust from 
 his work there, and it was openly stated that the 
 presence of Missions would imperil the safety of the 
 Dependency. But the Company felt that a chaplain 
 to the troops and their civil servants was a necessity, 
 and the first of these appointments was placed in the 
 hands of Mr. Grant to bestow upon Henry Martyn. 
 The young curate was duly introduced to the Honour- 
 able Board, and, after formal appointment, went to 
 dinner at Clapham with his benefactors. A delay, 
 however, occurred, as he could not be fully ordained 
 in priest's orders until he had attained the age of 
 twenty-four, but in due time, in the chapel of St. James, 
 he was admitted, and took up his abode in London to 
 make the necessary preparations for his departure. 
 While in the Metropolis his mind was much exercised 
 with the danger of falling into the flippancies and 
 
42 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 worldllness which pervaded society. He shrank from 
 it as from a poisonous adder. The significant words 
 written in his journal at this time, — "The prospect 
 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," point, however, to a mistrust of this morbid aspect 
 of things. In fact with his refined taste and love of 
 the beautiful, he had learned not to despise nor call 
 common or unclean the triumphs of genius and art. 
 In one of his reflections he says, " Since I have 
 known God in a saving manner, 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 
 the beautiful. O how religion secures this height- 
 ened enjoyment of those pleasures which keep so 
 many from God, by their becoming a source of 
 pride." 
 
 This is a refreshingly sensible and happy observa- 
 tion, and gives us a flitting glimpse of a phase of 
 Martyn's experience which is unfortunately rarely 
 disclosed by him in the precious records he has left 
 of his spiritual state from time to time. 
 
 Although many places associated with the memory 
 of Henry Martyn have disappeared, as for instance 
 the old East India House in Leadenhall Street, 
 there is still remains of Stjohn's Chapel, Bedford Row, 
 which saw much of the young missionary during his 
 stay in London. The pulpit was then occupied by 
 the Rev. Richard Cecil, but several times he made 
 way for Martyn to preach there. He was doing his 
 best to improve his powers of public speaking, attend- 
 
THE CHOICE MADE. 43 
 
 inq^ lectures upon elocution, and these opportunities 
 of pulpit ministration at Bedford Row were much 
 appreciated. Martyn seems to have had no compli- 
 mentary idea of his own preaching abilities. In 
 writing just at this time, he says, " Sermons cannot 
 be good niemorials, because once read they are done 
 with, especially a young man's sermons, unless they 
 possess a peculiar simplicity and spirituality, which 
 I need not say are qualities not belonging to mine. 
 I hope, however, that I am improving, and I trust 
 that now I am removed from the contagion of aca- 
 demic air, I am in the way of acquiring greater 
 knowledge of men and of my own heart, I shall 
 exchange my jejune scholastic style for a simple, 
 spiritual exhibition of profitable truth. Mr. Cecil 
 has been taking a great deal of pains with me. My 
 insipid, inanimate manner in the pulpit, he says, is 
 intolerable." 
 
 Possibly the preaching of Henry Martyn was never 
 characterised by eloquence, but it is on record that 
 he always spoke with solemn earnestness as " a dying 
 man to dying men." — 
 
fa. 
 
 SX:- 
 
 ^^4^.^^ 
 
 FALMOUTH. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 OUTWARD BOUND. 
 
 /\ Mine inmost soul, before Thee inly brought, 
 
 Thy presence owns, ineffable Divine, 
 Chastised each rebel self-encentred thought 
 My will adoreth Thine. — A. H. Cloiigh. 
 
 WHEN the summons came for Henry Martyn to 
 prepare for departure from England, he felt, 
 as might be expected, how many and tender 
 were the ties of affection which held him to 
 Cambridge. Not only as the sphere of his successful 
 studies and the circle of his personal friends, it had 
 become also still more endeared to him since he had 
 parish work at Lolworth. Doubtless the brilliant 
 prospects which beckoned him to stay, and which, to 
 a young man of such intellectual powers, could not 
 but allure, did not fail to exercise their influence on 
 his mind at this period. But the temptation came 
 to a heart fully consecrated to duty, and fell like 
 snowflakes from a shield. He sees vividly the hand of 
 God in his past, and has no doubt whatever as to the 
 rightness of the path opening before him. There 
 44 
 
OUTWARD BOUND. 45 
 
 is strong faith expressed in those words which he 
 inscribes at this time in his journal : — — ^ A'-^ 
 
 "From many danj^erous snares hath the Lord \ 
 preserved me ; in spite of all my inward rebellion, 
 He hath carried on His work in my heart; and, in ^ 
 spite of all my unbelieving^ fears, He hath given me a J 
 
 hope full of immortality, ' He hath set my feet upon 
 a rock, and established my goings ; and hath put a nev\ -«( ^ -^ 
 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 r desire any employment to all eternity but His 
 service." 
 
 The secret of his peace and steadiness of soul was 
 the intensifying conviction that God had really 
 called him to minister for Him in holy things, and 
 especially to preach the Gospel to the heathen. His 
 way thither was being wonderfully cleared by a 
 providential hand. His sister, about whom he had 
 experienced some concern, was happily married, 
 and he felt that as far as his responsibility to his 
 family was concerned, he could now go away with a 
 quiet mind. He writes from Cambridge on the eve 
 of quitting the place he loved so well, " I rejoice to 
 say 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 of the excellency and 
 glory and sweetness of the work, nor had so much of 
 the favourable testimony of my own conscience, nor 
 perceived so plainly the smile of God. I am con- 
 
4^ HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 Strained to say, ' What am I, or what is my father's 
 house, that I should be made willing, and what am 
 I that I should be so happy and honoured ? ' " 
 
 On the 2nd of April, 1805, he preached, in Trinity 
 Church, his farewell sermon, taking a text which 
 surely preached as much to him as to his auditory : 
 "For Thou, O Lord of Hosts, God of 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 for ever 
 before Thee : for Thou, O Lord God, hast spoken it : 
 and with Thy blessing let the house of Thy servant 
 be blessed for ever." 
 
 A profound impression was made upon his hearers 
 by these parting words ; and soon afterwards the 
 young preacher, with a full heart, looked for the last 
 time upon the spires of the University, and felt that 
 he was now loosening for ever from these safe moor- 
 ings to steer his prow whithersoever God should in 
 wisdom trace his future way. 
 
 While in London, preparing for. his departure from 
 England and studying Hindustani with great eager- 
 ness, he was much helped by the ministry and personal 
 advice of those two earnest evangelical preachers of 
 the day, Mr. Cecil and Mr. Newton. Everything 
 which related to missionary enterprise had become of 
 the deepest interest to him, and the accounts which 
 from time to time reached him of the work of the 
 Gospel in foreign lands increased his zeal and desire 
 to go. One day Mr. Cecil showed him an autograph 
 
OUTWARD BOUND. 47 
 
 letter from Schwartz, which caused in his mind a 
 varied sense of humiHation and rejoicing. "The life 
 of faith in Jesus is what I want," he says after reading 
 the letter. " My soul might almost burst with 
 astonishment at its own wickedness ! but at the 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." 
 
 But human nature will assert itself, and he tells us 
 with what emotion he saw for the first time the East 
 Indiaman which was to carry him across the sea. 
 "The sudden sight of water and the ship affected me 
 almost to tears. My emotions were mixed — partly of j 
 joy and partly of trembling apprehension of my being | 
 now so soon to go away." Again he makes this ' 
 entry in his journal, under date June 15th, 1805: 
 '' 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 on 
 earth." All this is very natural and pathetic, 
 displaying the tenderness of his feelings, a glimpse of 
 heart-break, of which at the time his pale heroic face 
 showed little trace to the world. Martyn's nature was 
 as a harp of a thousand sensitive vibrations, and this 
 fact, abundantly attested in his journals and letters, 
 manifests how strong was the grip of self-repression 
 which would never allow him to shrink from the 
 path of duty, cost what sacrifice it may. It must be 
 borne in mind that he was always conscious of his 
 extreme physical delicacy, he felt instinctively he 
 had not many years to live, had upon him the 
 pressure of a great destiny, and was straitened in 
 spirit for its accomplishment, and thus the bright and 
 
48 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 ambitious soul seemed to grow stronger as the body 
 again and again failed. 
 
 While on his journey from London to Portsmouth, 
 where he was to embark, his feelings completely over- 
 powered him, and he lost consciousness in a fit of 
 convulsions. A few days more and Henry Martyn 
 was on board the Union, one of a fleet of vessels 
 bound to the East under the direction of Captain 
 Byng. As the ship moved off he waved his farewells 
 to many kind friends on shore, and felt especial 
 pleasure in the possession of a beautiful silver 
 compass which had been sent him by Mr. Simeon 
 and his flock at Cambridge. He wrote a letter of 
 thanks to them, in which he begs for their prayers. 
 " Remember me sometimes at your social meetings 
 and particularly at that which you hold on the 
 Sabbath morning. Pray not only for my soul — that 
 I may be kept faithful unto death — but also especially 
 for the souls of the poor heathen. Whether I live or 
 die, let Christ be magnified by the ingathering of 
 multitudes to Himself I have many trials awaiting 
 me, and so have you, but that covenant of grace in 
 which we are interested provides for the weakest and 
 secures our everlasting welfare." 
 
 As the Union passed on her way down Channel, 
 it became necessary to make a brief stay at Falmouth, 
 which was an occasion of much rejoicing to the young 
 missionary. It gave him an opportunity of a final 
 meeting with one whom he was never to see again on 
 earth, but who was destined to influence his remain- 
 ing few years. This lady was Miss Lydia Grenfell, 
 for whom Henry Martyn had the strongest attach- 
 ment. It is not often that the courtship of a notable 
 individual is woven, at any rate before our eyes, so 
 
OUTWARD BOUND. 49 
 
 inextricably in the texture of a great career. In the 
 present case, the love of Henry Martyn for this lady, 
 who seems to have been most estimable, played 
 the part which might have been expected with so 
 ardent and yet variable a temperament. He who was 
 constantly bringing the innermost feelings of his 
 heart under judgment, was not likely to fail in 
 questioning, however much the examination har- 
 rowed, how far even the dearest human affection 
 ought to or might interfere with the call of 
 duty. In a letter written to his cousin just before 
 leaving Portsmouth, while indeed the fleet was 
 already in sight, he alludes to this matter in a 
 manner which will best throw light on his mind and 
 action. 
 
 " Lieutenant Wynter called on me last Saturday, 
 and last night drank tea with me. I cannot but 
 admire his great seriousness. He is just the sort of 
 person of a sober, thoughtful cast that I love to 
 associate with. He mentioned — Lydia, I do not 
 know why, but he could not tell me half enough 
 about her while she was at Plymouth to satisfy my 
 curiosity. Whitsun week was a time of the utmost 
 distress to me (on her account). On the Monday at 
 the Eclectic, Mr. Cecil, speaking of celibacy, said I 
 was acting like a madman in going out without a 
 wife, ^o thought all the other ten or eleven 
 ministers present, and Mr. Poster among the rest, 
 who is unmarried. This opinion coming deliberately 
 from so many experienced ministers, threw me into 
 great perplexity, which increased as my affections 
 began to be set more afloat, for then I was less able 
 than before to discover the path of duty. At last 
 I wrote to Simeon stating to him the strongest argu- 
 
 D 
 
5o HENRY MARTY N. 
 
 ments I heard in favour of marriage in my case. 
 His answer decided my mind. He put it in this 
 way. Is it necessary ? To this I could answer no. 
 Then is it expedient ? He here produced so many 
 weighty reasons against its expediency that I was 
 soon satisfied in my mind. My turbulent will, how- 
 ever, was not so easily satisfied. I was again obliged 
 to undergo the severest pain in making that sacrifice 
 which had cost me so dear before. Better had it been 
 if those wounds had never been torn open. But now 
 again, through the mercy of God, I am once more at 
 peace. What cannot His power effect ? The present 
 wish of my heart is that ... I may henceforth 
 have no one thing upon earth for which I would wish 
 to stay another hour, except it be to serve the Lord, 
 my Saviour, in the work of the ministry." 
 
 Shortly after writing this he was at Falmouth, 
 and took the opportunity of spending a few golden 
 hours with her who, notwithstanding his heroic con- 
 victions of duty, still held his heart in thrall. But 
 this happy season was abruptly ended. " So delusive," 
 says he characteristically, " are dreams 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 fact was, an express message came 
 to say that the ships were weighing anchor, and he 
 with the greatest haste only just reached the vessel 
 in time, she having been providentially stopped by 
 some accident. 
 
 Miss Grenfell made the following note in her 
 private journal that evening : — 
 
OUTWARD HOUND. 5 I 
 
 "I was surprised this morning by a visit from 
 II. M., and have passed the day chiefly with 
 him. The distance he is going and the errand he is 
 going on, rendered his society particularly interesting. 
 I felt as if bidding a final adieu to him in this world, 
 and all he said was as the words of one on the bor- 
 ders of eternity. May I improve the opportunity 
 I have enjoyed of Christian converse, and may the 
 Lord moderate the sorrow I feel at parting with so 
 valuable and excellent a friend. Some pains have 
 attended it, known only to God and myself. Thou 
 God that knowest them canst alone give comfort ! 
 . . . O may we each pursue in different paths, and 
 meet at last around our Father's throne. May we 
 often meet now in spirit, praying and obtaining bless- 
 ings for each other. Now, my soul, return to God, 
 the Author of them." 
 
 From the ship Henry Martyn wrote a few hurried 
 lines of farewell, and told how he would treasure a 
 h\-mn which she had written out for him : " The Lord 
 of the harvest who is sending forth me, who am, most 
 trul}', less than the least of all saints, will reward you 
 for being willing to help forward even the meanest of 
 His servants. The love which you bear to the cause 
 of Christ, as well as motives of private friendship, 
 will, I trust, induce you to commend me to God and 
 to the Word of His grace, at those sacred moments 
 when you approach the throne of our covenant God." 
 
 Thus parted these two pious hearts, he to bear 
 away the tenderest memory on his outward way, 
 she with devotion to pray for richest blessings to 
 descend upon him. He watched with lingering gaze 
 the receding land, and, as the vessel passed along the 
 coast of Cornwall, the church of St. Hilary could 
 
52 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 be seen, through his glass, peeping through the trees. 
 His feelings quite overcame him, and, bursting into 
 tears, he turned from the last glimpse of that dear 
 land which should know his footstep no more. 
 
 When he arrived at Cork he was wretched, both 
 physically and mentally, and made notes in his jour- 
 nals and letters descriptive of the Satanic buffetings 
 to which he was subject. But he found relief from 
 these distresses by urgent prayer and increased 
 energy in preaching the Gospel. On the deck of the 
 ship he solemnly proclaimed the importance of eternal 
 things, and, as the captain was not agreeable to these 
 ministrations, he spent much time between decks 
 amongst the soldiers and their families and others 
 going out to the Cape. Sometimes he read some 
 book to them, then he would engage in prayer, and 
 earnestly seek to impress them with the truths of the 
 Gospel. He did not meet with much encouragement, 
 however. Occasionally a few might be seen looking 
 fixedly into his face : women with their children in 
 deep attention one moment, the next busy with their 
 duties and going hither and thither, men on the upper 
 deck lolling over the hand-rail to listen, the officers 
 and captain in the cabin filling the air with their 
 boisterous mirth over the bottle, dozens of men who 
 had come off the night watch stretched along the 
 decks in sound sleep — such was his congregation on 
 shipboard. He was grieved, shocked, and a little 
 disappointed. But, like his Divine Master, it was 
 needful that he should be made perfect in suffering, 
 and he makes only the consolatory remark, " But this 
 prepares me for preaching among the heedless Gen- 
 tiles." 
 
 i After a severe storm, they reached Funchal, where 
 
MARTYN rREAClllNG TO THE SHlp's COMPANY ON THE \ OYAGE 
 TO INDIA. 
 
 _„ 53 
 
OUTWARD DOUND. 55 
 
 he seems to have been struck by the beauty of the' 
 scenery, and not less dispirited at the sii^dit of the 
 Romish churches and the priests, " Is it possible," ' 
 says he, " 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 an expression of utmost contrition in 
 her countenance. Perhaps, said I to her in my mind, 
 we shall meet in heaven." Setting sail again, they 
 were on the ocean five weeks more before reaching 
 San Salvador, when Henry Martyn went on shore with 
 thankfulness, the ship having escaped the peril of 
 utter loss upon some dangerous reefs. Two of the 
 other vessels were wrecked and many of the crew 
 drowned. His letters at this time are full of striking 
 descriptions of the place and the people, and he ob- 
 serves how, in his walks, he saw the superstition of the 
 devotees in worshipping relics or kneeling at wayside 
 crosses. It was during one of these excursions that 
 he met with one who received him most kindly, and 
 left a very happy impression on the mind of the 
 young missionary. 
 
 He had passed through a porch in search of shade, 
 and walking through a sort of orchard saw an old 
 man, evidently in ill health, sitting out of doors. 
 Martyn addressed him in French and English without 
 effect, but a young lady came who understood the 
 former language, and the son of the old man, who had 
 been educated at a Portuguese university, also drew 
 near. Having heard that the stranger came from 
 Cambridge, he was bidden welcome to the house. 
 " Thus," says he, " did the Lord give His servant 
 favour in the eyes of Antonio Joseph Corr^." 
 
 After this Martyn paid this hospitable household 
 
 ^ 
 
56 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 several visits, and on one occasion he tells us that he 
 found a quiet spot in one of these beautiful gardens, 
 and sang, 
 
 " O'er those gloomy hills of darkness 
 Look, my soul ; be still and gaze ; 
 All the promises do travel 
 To a glorious day of grace : 
 Blessed jubilee ! 
 ^;A Let thy glorious morning dawn. 
 
 *' Let the Indian, let the Negro, 
 
 Let the rude barbarian see 
 That Divine and glorious conquest, 
 Once obtained on Calvary ; 
 Let the Gospel 
 Loud resound from pole to pole." 
 
 At another time we find him wandering about the 
 plantations and studying under the direction of his 
 host the culture and preparation of pepper, lemons, 
 and tapioca; meanwhile he finds opportunity to speak 
 to this hospitable Portuguese upon higher things. 
 The old man whom he had first seen was evidently a 
 bigoted Papist, but the son told Martyn that he him- 
 self had no faith in the saints, and his outward observ- 
 ance of Catholic customs was only because he thought 
 it expedient. Very different was the mould in which 
 Martyn had been made, and he with spirit told Antonio 
 how in England men and women went to the stake 
 rather than conform. Pressed with earnest teaching 
 on the subject of the new birth, the young Portuguese 
 grew inattentive, and found relief in leaving his pious 
 guest in the company of some Franciscan monks, into 
 whose monastery he had by this time entered. One 
 of the friars seems to have taken a fancy to the young 
 Englishman, and freely talked with him upon matters 
 of faith. The conversation was in Latin, and while 
 
OUTWARD BOUND. 57 
 
 they stood discussing in one of the cool cloisters other 
 monks came round and listened with great attention. 
 Martyn tells us : " 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 
 Christian. When we had all reached the cell and sat 
 down I asked for a Bible, and the dispute was 
 renewed." Several here joined in the conversation, 
 some flippantly, others with anger, and as the sun set 
 and darkness filled the gloomy corridor, Martyn 
 confesses to feeling some trepidation under the circum- 
 stances. But they courteously conducted him to the 
 gate and bade him farewell, thus ending a visit which 
 at any rate to them would long be an incident to talk 
 about. 
 
 When the time came to say good-bye to his friends 
 Senor and Senora Corre, it was with much regret on 
 both sides ; and on his way back to the ship, rowed 
 by Mohammedans in their white dresses, his mind 
 was grieved with their hymns as they sang the 
 praises of the False Prophet. He had a talk on 
 these things with his companion in the boat, but met 
 with scant encouragement. " What more could be 
 necessary than simply to tell mankind that they must 
 be sober and honest ? " was the question put to him 
 in answer to faithful teaching of Christ and Him 
 crucified. Martyn felt shocked and utterly dismayed 
 at the superstition and ignorance with which he had 
 met in that fair land, and how little his words seemed 
 
58 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 to affect his hearers. " I never felt so strongly," he 
 says, " what a nothing I am. All my clear arguments 
 are good for nothing ; unless the Lord stretch out 
 His hand, I speak to stones." 
 
 When once more journeying with his ship's com- 
 pany, he found trials and suffering enough. His 
 Gospel was rejected, the officers were contemptuous of 
 the pale-faced and zealous evangelist, the soldiers and 
 sailors scoffed at him because he rebuked their sinful 
 conduct. Before long, however, the Union with its 
 convoy reached the Cape, where the soldiers were 
 landed to fight the Dutch, who were in possession 
 there. Here Henry Martyn had his first taste of war. 
 The horror of it filled his mind with grief and com- 
 passion. He walked among the wounded after the 
 battle, speaking to dying men of a present and 
 merciful Saviour, throwing gently his own coat over 
 the form of one poor fellow left to die, and in the 
 farmhouse, which had been made a temporary hos- 
 pital for the sufferers, he ministered faithfully and 
 lovingly to those who in most cases were appointed 
 to die. 
 
 Although a military chaplain, Martyn was distressed 
 and saddened at that bloodshed which then, even 
 more than now, was called warlike glory. When the 
 Dutch flag was struck, and his countrymen around 
 him were boasting of conquests, Martyn turns aside 
 with loathing. " Every observation of this sort which 
 I hear," he says, " cuts me to the very heart ; whether 
 from nature or 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." 
 
OUTWARD BOUND. 
 
 59 
 
 Once he nearly lost his life ; left for a few moments 
 by the surgeon alone, a drunken Highlander chal- 
 lenged him, disbelieving his word when he protested 
 that he was an Englishman, and prepared to shoot 
 -him. Martyn at the critical moment rushed up, 
 closed with him, and insisted upon being taken 
 l)risoner, when it would be found that he was the 
 chaplain to the troops. 
 
 His reflections here may fitly close the chapter. 
 " I lay down," says he, " on the border of a clump of 
 shrubs and 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 labour more for the 
 propagation of the Gospel of peace. Then shall men 
 love one another : ' Nation shall not lift up sword 
 against nation, neither shall they learn war any 
 more.' " 
 
 -^M 
 
 '^^MpM 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 INDIA FOR CHRIST. 
 
 Come, in Thee our toil is sweet, 
 
 Shelter from the noontide heat, 
 From whom sorrow flieth fleet. 
 
 Kinf; Robcji of France. 
 
 JUST nine weary months had elapsed when, at 
 sunrise, on the 22nd of April, 1806, Henry 
 Martyn stood on the deck as the ship sailed into 
 the Madras roads, and shortly after the young 
 missionary felt the dream of his life fulfilled as he 
 stepped on the shore of India. To this moment he 
 had looked forward ever since from the lips of Mr. 
 Simeon at Cambridge he had heard of the spiritual 
 destitution of our great dependency in the East, and 
 he had longed, almost impatiently, while detained at 
 San Salvador and the Cape, to reach his journey's end. 
 It was a solemn and impressive beginning of a min- 
 istry which he knew would tax all his physical 
 powers, and possibly hasten the moment of his pre- 
 mature decease. For it must be borne in mind that 
 Henry Martyn was always conscious of his constitu- 
 60 
 
IN' 1)1 A FOR CHRIST. 6l 
 
 tloiial delicacy, and knew only too well that many 
 years of life were not allotted to him. This preva- 
 lent and sobering;- reminder may not only account for 
 a certain melancholy " pale cast of thought," but also 
 for the intense and heroic endeavour to endure hard- 
 ness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ, and to attempt 
 the most for Ilim, so as to make the utmost of his 
 present opportunity. 
 
 Not long before the ship came in sight of India, 
 the young missionary spent a solemn Good Friday in 
 dwelling on the mighty sacrifice of the Cross, and the 
 responsibility which attached to him in going forth 
 into this heathen land to preach its efficacy among 
 an ignorant and idolatrous people. The day was 
 spent in fasting and constant prayer. He tells us 
 how greatly his faith was strengthened by the pro- 
 mises of God as to the conversion of the heathen. 
 Believing from his heart of hearts that he was sent 
 b}' Divine command to preach the unsearchable 
 riches to these poor souls, he kept repeating to himself 
 the text, " I have set watchmen upon thy walls, 
 O Jerusalem, which shall never hold their peace 
 day nor night : ye that make mention of the Lord, 
 keep not silence, and give Him no rest, till He 
 establish, and till He make Jerusalem a praise in the 
 earth." 
 
 His "ministry on shipboard certainly had not been 
 encouraging. The rude treatment which he had 
 received from both officers and men did not abate 
 when he gave them a few earnest farewell words at 
 parting. His solemnity was satirised, and his burn- 
 ing yearning for their souls was apparently thrown 
 away upon hard and impenitent hearts. "Yet," he says, 
 *' I desire to take the ridicule of men with all meek- 
 
62 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 ness and chanty, looking forward to another world 
 for approbation and reward." 
 
 Thus chastened and brought low in self-esteem, he 
 took his stand on Indian soil, strong in the grace and 
 power of God. Gazing around upon the crowds of 
 dusky forms in their white turbans, he exclaimed 
 with fervour, " Oh ! if I live, let me have come hither 
 to some purpose." 
 
 He was greatly struck with the subjection of the 
 natives, meekly attending upon the wants of the 
 English people, and his sympathetic heart prompted 
 the thought, " I could not help feeling as if we had 
 got into their places." 
 
 The coming to India of Henry Martyn was a direct 
 answer to prayer. Such was the need of this great 
 harvest field, that the few workers therein had made 
 it a special point to meet in Calcutta once a week for 
 the purpose of asking God to send forth to India some 
 man full of the Holy Ghost and of power to preach 
 the Gospel. And when Martyn appeared on the 
 shore, he was received and welcomed by the Christian 
 missionaries as one sent from God. Dr. Buchanan 
 was one of those who had, in their labours, prayed 
 for fresh labourers, but he had just started for Syria 
 when Martyn arrived, and passed him, without know- 
 ing it, as the Union passed up the Hooghly to Calcutta. 
 But the Rev. David Brown was there to grasp his 
 hand, as well as Carey and Ward, the devoted 
 Baptist missionaries, who were busily translating the 
 Scriptures into the language of the people. 
 
 It must never be forgotten, in taking a just view of 
 the situation, at the moment of Martyn's entry into 
 India, that the bitterest hostility to the missionaries 
 was displayed by those in power. The British flag, 
 
INDIA FOR CIIKIST. 63 
 
 whicli now is the rallying point where the missionary 
 knows he can find encouragement and, if necessary, 
 protection, was in India the symbol of a hatred and 
 jealousy of any Mission work which brought the 
 Gospel to the common people. The Anglo-Indians of 
 that day had evidently not a very intimate knowledge 
 of what a spiritual Christianity was, and felt the 
 utmost fear lest the offer of the grace and mercy of 
 Christ might upset their hold upon the people. The 
 truth possibly was that the method and spirit by which 
 India was then held, would have squared badly with 
 the spirit and precepts of the Lord. The faithful few, 
 especially Carey, Marshman and Ward, were treated 
 with a violence such as reminds us of the Acts of the 
 Apostles, and in their own land at home their 
 traducers were many and bitter. Sydney Smith, the 
 witty canon of St. Paul's, attacked them mercilessly 
 in the Edinburgh Review and elsewhere, and the con- 
 flict was even felt in the House of Commons, where, 
 however, in Wilberforce they had a champion and 
 friend. 
 
 Just before Martyn arrived upon the scene. Lord 
 Wellcsley had returned to England, and in the interval 
 between his departure and the arrival of the new 
 Governor-general the reins of power fell into the 
 hands of Sir George Barlow, a civil servant of the 
 East India Company. He directly objected to the 
 translation and dissemination of the Scriptures as a 
 dangerous interference with the religious prejudices of 
 the natives. A mutiny which took place in the 
 Madras Presidency had actually been laid to the 
 blame of the missionaries, and their preaching the 
 Christian religion. Martyn was on his way to India 
 when Carey, in his report home, had just sent these 
 
64 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 words to his committee : — " We are much in the situa- 
 tion in which the apostles were when commanded 
 not to teach or preach any more in His name ! They, 
 it is true, replied, 'Whether it be right in the sight of 
 God to obey you rather than God judge ye.' Would 
 it be right or not for us to make the same reply in the 
 first instance? On the one hand, our prospects of 
 success are obscured, and those opening doors for 
 usefulness, which a few days ago engaged our atten- 
 tion and animated our exertions, are shut by this 
 cruel message ; the consequence is that souls are 
 perishing on every side, and we are forbidden to 
 administer the remedy which God has put into our 
 hands. To act in open defiance of the wish of the 
 Governor- general might occasion a positive law 
 against evangelising the heathen, and at once break 
 up the Mission which has been settled at so great 
 expense. On the other hand, it is probable if we 
 yield a little to the present storm it may soon blow 
 over, and we may not only enjoy our present privi- 
 leges, but obtain the liberty we have so long wished 
 for." Here, then, was one of the most distinguished 
 missionaries in a very strait betwixt two in his 
 work, and it is not surprising that under such dis- 
 couragements the brethren committed their cause to 
 God, and prayed for help to come from England to 
 strengthen their hearts and minds. 
 
 But it must be borne in mind that the position of 
 Martyn was peculiar and hardly promising of success. 
 He had been commissioned by his employers, the 
 East India Company, to go out, not to preach to the 
 natives, but to the English people resident there. 
 Besides this, he held an office which placed him under 
 the control of the military authorities, and he must 
 
INDIA FOR CHRIST. 6$ 
 
 work within certain limits, and obey his orders as 
 chaplain with the same fidelity and docility as any 
 private soldier in the ranks. A strictly tied up con- 
 dition of service which could scarcely be otherwise 
 than as fetters and bandages to a spirit yearning to 
 have free course in proclaiming the Gospel. 
 
 Even his status as a clergyman of the Church of 
 England was not without its disagreeable features. 
 He came out to India as representative of a party in 
 his Church which was looked upon with mingled con- 
 tempt and ridicule. The evangelicalism of Charles 
 Simeon was far too earnest for the easy Church manners 
 of that day. Henry Martyn had his baptism of fire 
 of persecution at Cambridge as a loyal disciple of 
 Simeon and the Clapham sect, and he soon found the 
 same spirit of opposition in Indian society. Then, as 
 now, the " offence of the Cross " formed the stumbling 
 block in the way of the salvation of respectable pro- 
 fessors. 
 
 One of the first and best friends to open heart and 
 house to Henry Martyn was the venerable Rev. 
 David Brown, who lived at Aldeen, about twelve or 
 fifteen miles from Calcutta, on the banks of the 
 Ilooghly. In his garden was an ancient pagoda, 
 originally devoted to the worship of the god Bulhub, 
 an imposing structure of some dimensions, and here 
 at the invitation of his host Henry Martyn took up 
 his abode. He tells us, " Notwithstanding the vicis- 
 situdes of life, who could have guessed a few years ago 
 that I should have at last found a house in an Indian 
 pagoda?" To his mind the circumstance was filled 
 with suggestions, and as he sat there at his transla- 
 tions, preparing his sermons, or singing the songs of 
 Zion, he rejoiced " that the place where once devils 
 
 £ 
 
66 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 were worshipped was now become a Christian 
 oratory." 
 
 Whatever objection Calcutta society had to his theo- 
 logical opinions, and however much his earnest appeals 
 affronted them, there was no question with them 
 about his intellectual abilities, and we find pressing 
 invitations being urged upon the young army chaplain 
 by his friends, to relinquish his desire for work farther 
 a-field, and to stay in the city permanently. Had 
 he considered his own comfort and worldly advance- 
 ment, such offers would have been of some effect, but 
 Martyn had in his bosom the sacred fire of a true 
 missionary enthusiasm, which counted all but loss 
 that he might convert the heathen to Christ. The 
 memory of Schwartz was in his mind, he had drunk in 
 the spirit of David Brainerd, and the love of souls 
 urged him on. For this cause he had crossed the sea, 
 and he was straitened in his desire for the accomplish- 
 ment of that glorious end. " To be prevented from 
 going to the heathen," said he with intense emotion, 
 " would almost break my heart." 
 
 The fire of his zeal was fed by the sights and sounds 
 which already reminded him that he was no longer in 
 a Christian land. At this time no effort had been 
 made by the East India Company to interfere with 
 the idolatrous and cruel observances of the natives, 
 and sights of self-immolation, happily strange to 
 India to-day, were a constant pain to those who had 
 come with the Gospel of light and peace. The 
 Romanism of the Portuguese had filled Martyn with 
 sorrow, but here he found himself face to face with a 
 paganism which added the keenest cruelty to the 
 darkest ignorance. 
 \ One day while taking a walk in the vicinity of his 
 
INDIA I'OR CHRIST. 
 
 67 
 
 comfortable quarters on the banks of the Ilooghly, 
 he was horrified to see for the first time the ascendinGf 
 smoke of one of tliose funeral rites, about which he 
 had often heard when in ICni^land. lie could see the 
 natives crowding- round the [)}'re amid deafening sounds 
 of wild music, and the woman had already climbed 
 to her place to share the burning of her husband's 
 remains. Filled with burning indignation the young 
 Englishman rushed forward, and attempted her 
 
 
 
 % 
 
 
 MARTYN TRYING TO SAVE A WOMAN S LIFE AT A SUTTEE. 
 
 rescue, but his efforts were unavailing, and deeply 
 saddened he retraced his steps. At another time the 
 worship of devils, which was being noisily celebrated 
 in a house, near to which he had been attracted by the 
 cymbals, and the continual spectacle of these poor 
 people offering obeisance to idols, and lying on the 
 ground in abject fear of the very images their own 
 hands had made, deeply impressed him. He seemed 
 to be standing, as he expressed it, " in the neighbour- 
 
6S HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 hood of hell," his repugnance to idolatry was as strong 
 as that of a pious Jew. 
 
 He made up his mind henceforth that he would not 
 
 spare himself in effort and application, to give these 
 
 benighted heathen the Gospel in their own tongue. To 
 
 , this sacred duty he now bent all his energies, and in 
 
 • the pagoda at Aldeen, Henry Martyn worked inces- 
 
 : santly in order to acquire a thorough knowledge of 
 
 Hindustani, in which he had the assistance of an 
 
 educated Brahmin. 
 
 He had suffered acutely from fever soon after his 
 arrival, and had got down so low, as to think that he 
 would die with his work undone. " I began to pray," he 
 writes, " as on the verge of eternity, and the Lord was 
 pleased to break my hard heart. I lay in tears inter- 
 ceding for the unfortunate natives of this country, think- 
 ing within myself that the most despicable soodar of 
 India was of as much value in the sight of God as the 
 king of Great Britain."* From this fever he hap- 
 pily recovered, and becoming acclimatised, began to 
 find room for thankfulness in the atmosphere of his 
 adopted country. " In the cloudy climate of England 
 I was always oppressed with the body, but here I feel 
 as light as air, and go rejoicing all the day long." 
 This possibly was a too favourable expression of 
 one who was so sensitive to the influence of either 
 sorrow or joy. He admits, in a reservation which 
 became historically true in his own case, alas, too soon, 
 " By thus living as it were faster, life is probably 
 shortened, and by-and-by I may feel the depressing 
 and relaxing influence of the climate upon the body, 
 as well as the mind." 
 
 It seems almost incredible that with such a man 
 pnder such circumstances, ready to give himself for 
 
INDIA FOR CHRIST. 69 
 
 tlic sake of others, and possessed with such an 
 evident zeal for the souls of men, such hostility 
 should have arisen among his own countrymen 
 against the pulpit administrations of Henry Martyn. 
 One would think that these people had determined 
 upon making Calcutta unbearable for the young 
 chaplain, who they knew had sat at the feet of Charles 
 Simeon, and had come thither to teach what seemed 
 in their eyes such outrageous doctrines as justification 
 by faith. His fellow-clergymen joined in the general 
 outcry. The position of affairs is perhaps best repre- 
 sented by his own account, written to his friend, Mr. 
 Grant, in London, in September, 1806 : — 
 
 " The ministerial work assigned to me here is to 
 preach every Sabbath evening at the mission church, 
 and every third Sunday at the other. With the 
 former I am delighted, the congregation is numerous 
 and attentive, and as I have heard there are encourag- 
 ing appearances of a work of grace among them. 
 At the New Church I am as a wonder unto many. 
 Whether it is they judge of me relatively with the 
 other clergymen who cannot boast of much physical 
 strength, or whether I have really recovered from that 
 insipidity so much complained of at St. John's Chapel, 
 by having exercised my lungs so many months on 
 the quarter deck, I am called a son of thunder in this 
 place. The Sunday after my first sermon at the new 
 church. Dr. Ward preached vehemently on the 
 opposite side. I was not present at the time, being 
 laid up with a bilious fever, but heard that it was 
 against evangelical persons and things in general. 
 After describing the rise and progress of the sect of 
 evangelical clergymen in the Church, he proceeded to 
 deny one by one all the leading doctrines of the 
 
70 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 Gospel. The personal abuse of me which his sermon 
 contained, gave such offence that he found it neces- 
 sary to let it be read, since which many have thought 
 better of it. After the second which I preached. 
 Limerick attacked me. He, too, was very personal, 
 and gravely and distinctly denied all the doctrines of 
 the Gospel. As I knew how much carnal people 
 would enjoy a controversy between their teachers, 
 and so elude the force of what was intended for their 
 consciences, I declined making the smallest allusion 
 to what had been said. Notwithstanding this many 
 stay away from church, because they ^^.y parties are 
 running so high among the clergymen. Jefferies 
 unites himself with us and has preached the pure 
 truth. Stacey will not enter the church until it is 
 purified from our errors. We anxiously await the 
 arrival of Corrie and Parson whom we expect in the 
 next fleet. When I can see Mr. Brown supplied with 
 coadjutors in Mr. Buchanan's absence, I shall proceed 
 to my proper work with double pleasure. I rejoice 
 in the dispensation of God in sending me to this 
 country more than ever. Through His mercy I enjoy 
 excellent health, and I feel little doubt of seeing some 
 of these poor people turning to God from idols, 
 which hope is the health of my soul." 
 
 Such an account of the official Christianity of Cal- 
 cutta, most temperately described by the one who 
 was the chief object of its intolerance, provides us 
 with a glimpse, and we . want no more than that, 
 \ of the religious contentions of that day. Henry 
 Martyn represented the awakened spirituality of the 
 Church, and was a protest against the comfortable 
 \ legalism and worldliness which characterised the 
 time. His uncompromising advocacy of what he felt 
 
INDIA FOR CHRIST. 7I 
 
 to be Scriptural truth, made him obnoxious to those 
 who cared httle for these things, for to them the 
 things which are not seen were but temporal, and the 
 things which are seen had become eternal verities. 
 
 The young missionary does not appear to have felt 
 the antagonism of the foes of his own spiritual house- 
 hold very keenly ; possibly it forced him more upon 
 the path of preaching the Gospel to the natives, and 
 sent him as a messenger of mercy to the Gentile 
 heathen who had never heard of salvation. He bore 
 his traducers no malice, forbore, as we have seen, to 
 be a party to religious war, and tells us in one of his 
 letters how much he enjoyed an occasion when these 
 very people met him at the table of the Lord, and 
 there, at any rate for a time, they realised the unity of 
 the Spirit in the bond of peace. 
 
 But henceforth Martyn set his face to a wider field, 
 and girt himself for that heroic and toilsome journey 
 of a few brief years to achieve a victory for the 
 Cross over superstition and sin, and to bring the 
 souls for whom Christ died into the glory of " that 
 light which lighteneth every man that cometh into 
 the world." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 FACING THE ENEMY. 
 
 Thou wert my rock, my shield, my sword, 
 My trust was in Thy name and word ; 
 
 'Twas in Thy strength my heart was strong 
 Thy spirit went with mine along, 
 
 How was I then alone? — Bishop Heber. 
 
 THE appointment for which Henry Martyn had 
 been waiting came at last, and he was ordered 
 to proceed without loss of time to Dinapore, a 
 military station many miles up the Ganges. 
 In some respects he could not have much cause for 
 regret at leaving Calcutta, where his work had not 
 been an unmixed experience, and he looked with 
 many yearnings to a closer contact with the natives. 
 Still the parting with his friends at Aldeen, from 
 whom he had received such great kindness, moved 
 him not a little. 
 
 It was at once a meeting and a departure, for just 
 before Martyn left Calcutta he heartily welcomed the 
 two good men, Messrs. Corrie and Parsons, who had 
 recently left England to enter this field of work. He 
 had much conversation with them, asking eagerly 
 72 
 
FACIN(; TlIK KNKMY. 73 
 
 about his friends at home, and the state of the Church 
 in his native land. 
 
 For the last time he sat in the pagoda at Aldeen. 
 His friends gathered round him to join in a simple 
 valedictory service, commending him to God. It must 
 have been an intensely interesting gathering ; the 
 shadowy temple, in which once the idolatries of poor 
 superstitious people took place, now resounded to the 
 voice of prayer, and the praises of Him who is King 
 over all, blessed for evermore. Martyn once again 
 consecrated himself solemnly to the work, and almost 
 passionately dwelt on the trials and triumphs which^ a S 
 were in store for him on his future way. " Gladly 
 shall this base blood be shed," he exclaimed, " if India 
 can be benefited in one of her children ! " After- 
 wards, in referring to this little gathering, he says : — 
 " My soul 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.' " I 
 
 A large river boat, known as a budgerow, was ready 
 to convey him up the river to his destination, and in 
 this he embarked on the 15th of October, several of 
 his friends taking advantage of the opportunity for 
 a little more of his society by going part of the 
 way up the stream. His old friend and kind host, 
 Mr. Brown, was on board, together with the two 
 missionaries from England, and as they came in 
 sight of the Baptist Mission-house, Dr. Marshman 
 hastened also to accompany him a little way. Soon 
 a stormy wind from the north-east began to lash the 
 waves to fury, and it became evident that the brethren 
 must soon leave him in order to get back to Calcutta 
 in reasonable time. Here again, however, a simple 
 
74 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 service took place, expressive of their mutual and 
 brotherly love, and their dependence upon the Lord, 
 whose servants they were. In the little cabin they sat 
 together, each in turn reading some suitable portion of 
 Holy Scripture, and thus comforting one another with 
 the sacred Word. One text selected by Mr. Brown, 
 " Have I not sent thee ? " appears to have much 
 affected Henry Martyn, and then, as they once more 
 knelt together, he felt the encouragement of Divine 
 grace, and the blessing of united prayer. Then, as 
 the storm raged, they stood on deck again, and bade 
 each other farewell. He watched them until they 
 had disappeared, and then turned sadly, and, with 
 a strange sense of loneliness, went into his cabin 
 again. No progress could be made in the teeth of 
 such driving wind and rain, so the rather cumbrous 
 barge had to be kept well in the shallows all day, 
 leaking freely from the buffeting of the waves as 
 she lay on the shore. 
 
 Martyn was now left entirely to his natives, and 
 began work at once with the moonshee whom he had 
 specially commissioned to help him in the translation 
 of the Scriptures. This man seems to have been a 
 rather hot-headed individual, but does not appear to 
 have made a very spirited show of his courage during 
 this river storm, for Martyn was so struck by his 
 alarms as to think it a fitting moment to speak on 
 those matters which were nearest his own heart. 
 " May God be our protection," was the laconic reply 
 of the moonshee, who regained his indifference and 
 boasting when the weather improved. 
 
 For several days Martyn worked incessantly at his 
 translations, reading Sanscrit, and occasionally trying 
 to get the moonshee to talk about the Gospel, which 
 
FACING Tin: ENEMY. 75 
 
 they had so much under consideration, but with Httlc 
 encouragement. It was his custom to leave the boat 
 in tlie early morning, and with his gun provide game 
 for their meals, and often in these wanderings he 
 would make himself known to the natives in the 
 villages through which they passed. Attracted one 
 day by the sound of cymbals and drums, he soon 
 found himself in the midst of a crowd of fanatical 
 worshippers, and on their invitation he entered the 
 idol- house. The Brahmin in charge in answer to some 
 questions grew excited, and poured forth his protesta- 
 tions so fast, that Martyn failed to follow him, but the 
 people understood, and made a great noise. Waiting 
 patiently till the uproar had ceased, the missionary 
 quietly reasoned with the man, and talked of the 
 things of God to one who now listened with surpris- 
 ing attention. " Was idol worship true or false ? " was 
 the Brahmin's earnest question, and Martyn makes the 
 following grateful note of the incident : — " I feel 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." 
 
 At every step of the way, the idolatry of the people 
 was prominently forced upon his attention. As he 
 lifted his eyes from his own devotions, he saw young 
 Brahmins of the same age as himself, worshipping on 
 the margin of the sacred stream, and on one occasion 
 there was a grand festival in honour of the goddess Cali, 
 her effigies being thrown into the river, and huge tinsel 
 representations of her being fixed in the boats which 
 lined the bank. The worshippers tried to attract his 
 attention to these, but Martyn turned sadly away, 
 vowing before God " through grace to continue 
 
 t 
 
7^ HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 praying to the end for these poor precious souls, and 
 that the kingdom of God may be set up here." 
 
 An accident, which might have proved serious, 
 occurred on the 23rd of October, the tow-rope 
 breaking, and the budgerow swinging back again 
 down stream at the rate of seven miles an hour. 
 Other boats ran foul of her and offered not the 
 slightest assistance, but, finally, Martyn's vessel ran 
 aground and he got ashore for a short time. He 
 walked in the dark full of communing with God and 
 thoughts of one he loved in far-away England. He 
 calls it " a delightful season," but continues even here, 
 with all sorts of happy prospects and wishes in his mind, 
 to conjure up some gloomy views of life. " The more 
 I exaggerate these ideal joys, the more do I treasure 
 up subjects of woe. Oh what vanity has God written 
 upon everything under the sun ! " On his return to 
 the boat that night, he passed a number of jackals, 
 which, however, did not venture to attack him. 
 
 As usual the day was spent in the most assiduous 
 industry, carefully perfecting his translations point by 
 point, and from time to time stopping to refresh 
 himself with prayer. These studies, under sur- 
 roundings, too, not entirely favourable to study, were 
 very exhausting, and to a man of his physical weak- 
 ness, indomitable application must have been needed 
 to go on day after day in such work. He was upborne 
 by the continual assurance that his friends were 
 praying for him. " Rejoice, my soul," he says, *' in 
 the 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 unworthy 
 friend I feel as if I could never be tired with prayer." 
 
FACING THE ENEMY. 'J'J 
 
 A trifling thing was sufficient to awaken in the heart 
 of this sincere and troubled soul thoughts of self- 
 abasement. In looking among some old letters, his 
 eye lighted upon one written by his cousin Thomas 
 before his conversion. He thus writes upon the 
 feelings inspired thereby in a letter to his sister : — 
 " There is also a letter of Cousin Thomas' addressed 
 to me, when I was without Christ, an alien from the 
 commonwealth of Israel, having no hope, and without 
 God in the world. When I think of these things my 
 heart is hot within me, and I am constrained to say, 
 What hath God wrought ! and what shall I render 
 unto the Lord for all the mercies He hath done unto 
 me ! Dear Cousin Thomas, who knows what I was, 
 how vain, how wise in my own eyes, will join with 
 me in saying that nothing is impossible with God. 
 Almost excluded from the hope of mercy, even by 
 the Word of God itself, He had yet compassion on 
 me, and now to Him be the praise, and to Him be 
 the glory for ever. How does it become me to walk 
 humbly, lest being puffed up I fall into the condemna- 
 tion of the devil. Oh, my beloved sister ! what hath 
 God done, and what will He do for us who are His 
 children ? Oh ! the electing love, the high sove- 
 reignty, the resistless power, and the unfathomable 
 depth of loving-kindness and grace of Him who hath 
 wrought redemption for us. If the grace of God is 
 so sweet now, notwithstanding our sins and confused 
 notions, what is there awaiting us in eternity ? " 
 
 In due time the budgerow and its occupants 
 arrived at Berhampore, where Henry Martyn stayed 
 some time. It will be seen from the followinsf 
 quotation from his journal, that he had some doubts 
 as to the tact he displayed in dealing with the people. 
 
78 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 The incidents which precede these reflections cannot be 
 better told than in his own words. The opening sen- 
 tencesrefer to the day immediately precedinghis arrival. 
 '^Lord's Day. — First part spent happily. In the 
 evening walked into a village with some tracts. The 
 women and children fled, and I thought no oppor- 
 tunity occurred to see if any could speak Hindustani. 
 However, this was followed by a great sense of guilt. 
 Alas ! while Satan is so active in destroying their 
 souls, does it become the servants of God to be 
 lukewarm ? Lost much time and peace at night in 
 forming schemes about the propagation of the Gospel, 
 which had more of romance and pride than of wisdom 
 and humility. 
 
 " Arrived at Berhampore, the first station of our 
 troops. In the hospital, while I was speaking to a 
 soldier who was said to be dying, a surgeon came in. 
 I went up to him and made a speech, apologising for 
 entering the hospital without the permission of the 
 surgeon. After looking at me, he said softly, ' Bless 
 me, it is Martyn.' I soon recognised my old school- 
 fellow and townsman, John Marshall. Thinking that 
 by his interest I might be able to preach to the 1 50 
 sick men who were there, I determined to stay part 
 of the next day. 
 
 " Rose early and was at the hospital by daylight, 
 but after waiting a long time wandering through the 
 wards, hoping the men would get up and assemble, 
 I went away amid the sneers and titters of the com- 
 mon soldiers. It is extraordinary that I seldom or 
 never meet with contempt on account of religion except 
 from Englishmen, and from them invariably. A 
 prophet is not without honour save — I confess I feel 
 a sort of disgust towards my countrymen. An 
 
FACING THE ENEMY. 79 
 
 English saint is undoubtedly one of the greatest 
 characters on earth. His native solidity softened by 
 grace makes him venerable ; but the pride and con- 
 tempt of God, so remarkable in the bulk of the 
 nation, seem to be the forerunners of a humbling 
 stroke. As a Danish captain said here, 'There is no 
 speaking to an Englishman now.' One of the 
 greatest crosses ministers are called to bear, as 
 my dear brother Cousin T. knows, is that we are 
 obliged to take pains to make people hear us, as I 
 was this day. It is such a struggle between a sense 
 of modesty and of duty that I find nothing so painful. 
 I could force my way anywhere to introduce a brother 
 minister, but for myself I act with hesitation and 
 reluctance. Be instant, otit of season ; how one's feel- 
 ings revolt at it ! Perhaps you will say I was literally 
 out of season by going when the people were in bed ; 
 but in this country it is the time for action. I could 
 not expect them to assemble in the heat of the day." 
 
 Although he was up betimes in speaking to these 
 soldiers in the hospital, he greatly blames himself for 
 omitting to take a supply of tracts when on another 
 evening he went ashore, and had an opportunity of 
 giving them to the people. He feels what most 
 would count but a thoughtless omission to be a 
 deadly sin, and imagines that souls will rise up in 
 judgment against him at the last day. i 
 
 He is again much humiliated by his inefficiency in 
 the language, and by finding that the people to whom' 
 he offers tracts cannot understand him. This spur^ 
 him on to redoubled activity, and he wearies his moon- 
 shce by his constant application to translating the 
 Scriptures. One day this man asks rather a startling 
 question of his master : " How can you prove this 
 
So HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 Book (putting his hand on the Gospels) to be the 
 Word of God?" Martyn goes ashore with him to 
 discuss the matter in quietness, and then he found 
 that his moonshee, who was a Mohammedan, beHeved 
 it to be given by the command of God, though not 
 Hke the Koran, in the very words, and he contended 
 that the actual words spoken by Jesus were burnt by 
 the Jews. The conversation was prolonged, and Martyn 
 tried very earnestly to impress the man with the truth, 
 but without any apparently lasting impression. 
 
 " My spirit felt comforted after this dispute," he 
 says, " 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 looking 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 by the stream of time, 
 that in a few years there will be another generation of 
 Hindus, Mussulmans, 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 txie tumult of anger and impatience when I 
 cannot convince men ! Oh how feeble an instrument 
 must a creature so shortsighted be ! How necessary 
 is it that God should be continually raising up new 
 instruments, and how easily He can 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." 
 
 His work, as he made his way up the Ganges 
 
FACING THE KNEMV 
 
 8i 
 
 appears to be about equally divided between transla- 
 tion on board and tract distribution on shore. His I 
 practice seems to have been to rise very early in 
 the morning while yet it was cool, and, landing 
 at the nearest point, walk along the banks and 
 through the villages speaking to the natives and dis- 
 tributing, wherever they would accept them, leaflets 
 
 •MARTVN AND HIS M00NSHP:E TRANSLATING THE BIBLE ON HIS 
 VOYAGE TO DINAPORE. 
 
 full of Christian teaching. Then he would return to 
 the budgerow, and, with his moonshee, have a long 
 day of close application at the translation of the 
 Scriptures. In order to make himself acquainted 
 with the language as spoken by the common people, 
 he always carried his note-book in his rambles, and 
 took down every new word which came to his ears in 
 
iS2 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 conversation. He had certainly little encouragement 
 in his work on shore. The women and children 
 invariably ran away at his approach, and the men 
 were very reluctant to receive his tracts, when they 
 found that he was a Christian. 
 
 He tells us how he visited the village of Rajemahl 
 and explored its famous ruins, trying to get into talk 
 with the Brahmins, who quickly, however, returned 
 his tract with the remark, " That a man who had his 
 legs in two different boats, was in danger of sinking 
 between them." Among the hill people, he was 
 received a little more kindly, and one of the chiefs 
 listened with rapt attention, while Martyn spoke 
 of the place of punishment to which God consigns 
 the wicked and impenitent. He noticed here the 
 remarkable prevalence of sacrifices, and was struck 
 with the kindness of the chief in offering him wild 
 honey, the greatest delicacy he had. One night he 
 climbed a high hill to view an ancient mosque, and 
 there saw the grave of a Mussulman with the lights 
 burning continually through the darkness over the 
 warrior's head. He received much encouragement 
 by finding himself understood by two men to whom 
 he spoke upon eternal subjects, but felt shortly after- 
 wards a sense of deep humiliation, because the natives 
 could not read and would not come to him for 
 conversation and tracts. At other times, he found 
 the dialects very confusing, and was much dis- 
 couraged when he had spoken for some time only to 
 find that scarcely a word had been understood. 
 "I was much burdened," he writes, "with a conscious- 
 ness 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 
 
FACING TIIK ENEMY. 83 
 
 been saved by my exertions ! Looking round this 
 country and reflecting upon its state is enough to 
 overwhehn the mind of a minister or missionary. 
 When once my mouth is opened, how shall I ever 
 dare to be silent ? " 
 
 Working hard with his Bible, we find that he has 
 now added Persian to the languages he seeks to 
 acquire for the purposes of the Gospel. This was 
 in preparation for what was to prove the greatest 
 work of his life. One day he sat down with an 
 old Hindu who commenced talking about his 
 experiences as a soldier, giving Martyn hardly a 
 chance of introducing the subject next his heart 
 He was evidently advantaged by his contact with 
 Europeans, but when Martyn introduced the name 
 and work of the Lord Jesus Christ, the man abruptly 
 closed the talk with, " Ah, that is your master." 
 Notwithstanding this rebuff, Martyn laboured on, 
 entering the bazaar and giving away a number of 
 tracts. But though he worked, he did so desperately 
 in the teeth of increasing dejection. T here s eemed 
 so little fruit, and the people were in such sore need. 
 Again Martyn applies himself with an utter disregard 
 of his own health and strength to get the Word of 
 God into the language of the natives, and to make 
 himself more qualified for preaching to them wherever 
 Providence led him. The pressure of responsibility 
 was so heavy upon him that he was constantly 
 blaming and judging himself for the lack of capacity 
 and consequent success which he felt in every effort. 
 A few words from his journal will give an accurate 
 idea of his emotions at this point. He is wu'iting at 
 the close of a Sunday spent partly on the water and 
 later in the day on land. 
 
84 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 " Generally in a solemn, tender 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 as much as when 
 they are v/alking through a dark shadow? When Jesus 
 lets me see His ' rod and staff' I am comforted. In the 
 afternoon I 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 and give them to him when 
 he came back. The man was in no small alarm at 
 this, but asked me where I got them. Distressed 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." 
 
 The budgerow at one place became an object of 
 considerable attraction from the fact that rumours had 
 gone abroad that Martyn was distributing free copies 
 of the sacred book of Ramayuna. The Brahmins 
 crowded the deck, and one poor man, in asking for a 
 copy, " prostrated himself to the earth, and placed his 
 forehead in the dust, at which," says Martyn, " I felt 
 an indescribable horror." He found among the natives, 
 what, indeed, might have been expected then, a strong 
 detestation of their English conquerors ; one poor old 
 Brahmin working in the fields complained, " that the 
 English had robbed them of their country." Fear 
 
FACING tup: knkmy. 85 
 
 skirted the feet of the Enc^Hshman wherever he walked 
 on Indian soil, and this plainly showed Martyn that 
 sufferinc^s and opposition were in store for him. But 
 his brave heart was unblenched at the dark future. 
 
 " The disaffection of the people gave rise after- 
 wards," he says, " 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 ot 
 dut}', 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/ etc., 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 ? " 
 
 The strange superstition of the people w^as evident 
 in a striking manner to Martyn one day as he 
 was stepping from the river side on to his budgerow. 
 He thoughtlessly touched with his stick a brass pot 
 in which his native boatmen were cooking rice for 
 their meal, and at once aroused the horror of the 
 people, who seized the polluted vessel and cast its 
 polluted contents into the river. Another instance, 
 to his mind, of the widespread influence of sinful fear. 
 He saw that superstition not only darkens the mind 
 of its votaries, but enslaves them with perpetual 
 terror. Their gods are a standing menace to their 
 lives, from which they cannot get free. 
 
 Martyn, looking upon Brahminism, was not 
 deceived by any superficial respect for virtue, and 
 would have been astonished could he have known 
 
86 
 
 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 that in a later time some of his own countrymen 
 would be so infatuated as to renounce Christianity 
 for the religion of India. Some of the religious 
 customs of the natives have, of course, since his time, 
 been put down as a disgrace to any country under 
 British rule, but still the hideous character of the 
 false religions of Brahma and Mohammed are alike 
 expressed in the lives of the Indian people. 
 
 Martyn was spurred into a more wakeful zeal by 
 these surroundings. " What a wretched life shall 
 I lead if I do not exert myself from morning till night 
 in a place where, through whole territories, I seem to 
 be the only light" 
 
l;OAr 'IKAVlil.I.INi 
 
 lllK IIOOGIILV, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 X 
 
 SORROW FORGOTTEN IN LABOUR. 
 
 And well it is for us our God should feel 
 Above our secret throbbing ; so our prayer 
 
 May readier spring to Heaven, nor spend its zeal 
 On cloud-born idols of this lower ddr.—John Keble. 
 
 WHEN Henry Martyn arrived at last at Dina- 
 pore, his thoughts began to revert to his 
 native land, and particularly to the lady of 
 whom he took leave, when the outward bound 
 Union put into Falmouth for a few days. He had 
 written to Miss Grenfell, and she had corresponded 
 with him, but he now began to realise that the 
 advice given to him to take a wife to the mission- 
 field was not without reason. To any man but 
 Martyn this would have presented no difficulty, 
 especially where his heart was so evidently attached 
 to one well worthy of his confidence, but he was so con- 
 tinually dissecting his motives and feelings with dis- 
 
 87 
 
S8 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 trust lest he should be unfaithful to duty, that it was 
 some time before he could decide upon writing to 
 make a proposal for the lady he loved to join him in 
 India. There cannot be a shadow of doubt about his 
 great affection for Miss Grenfell, and yet the letter is 
 couched in such grave and balanced terms, that it is 
 very unlike what such communications are generally 
 supposed to be. He has told her that a mutual 
 friend had assured him that her presence in India 
 would be of advantage to the Mission. He then goes 
 on to say : " I know my own heart too well not to be 
 distrustful of it, especially as my affections were again 
 awakened, and accordingly all my labours and prayers 
 have been directed to check their influence, that I 
 might see clearly the path of duty. Though I dare not 
 say that I am under no bias, yet, from every view of 
 the subject I have been able to take, after balancing 
 the advantages and disadvantages that may ensue 
 to the cause in which I am engaged, always in prayer 
 for God's direction, my reason is fully convinced of 
 the expediency, I had almost said the necessity, of 
 having you with me. It is possible that my reason 
 may still be obscured by passion ; let it suffice, how- 
 ever, to say that now, with a safe conscience and the 
 enjoyment of the Divine presence, I calmly and 
 deliberately make the proposal to you." 
 
 This letter was written on the 30th of July, 1806, 
 and on the 5th of March in the following year, Miss 
 Grenfell wrote declining the proposal, although 
 Martyn's old friend, the Rev. Charles Simeon, had in 
 the meantime paid a special visit to Marazion, to urge 
 the young missionary's plea. The fuller facts respect- 
 ing this incident, which exerted so great an influence 
 on Henry Martyn, will be found set out in the last 
 
SORROW FORGOTTEN IN LAROUR. 89 
 
 chapter of the present memoir. It will be sufficient 
 here to say, that he was heart-broken on receipt of the 
 letter which forbade him to hope. He made a pitiful 
 note in his journal, of the anguish he felt, how grief 
 and disappointment had thrown his soul into confusion, 
 which he subdues, however, by a resolute effort of will, 
 while feeling all the time that he is taking his " chas- 
 tisement like the bullock unaccustomed to the yoke, 
 like a wild bull in a net, full of the fury of the Lord, 
 the rebuke of my God." 
 
 With all his self-control, and possibly none of 
 them around him knew what agony wrung his heart, 
 he suffered much, and for a brief time his sky was 
 all clouded and full of gloomy sorrow. But it was 
 characteristic of Henry Martyn that he found relief 
 from his weight of care, by concentrating himself more 
 and more upon the prosecution of that work which he 
 held more precious than anything else in the world. 
 He chided himself for allowing any other considera- 
 tion to interfere, and felt that it was all in the mercy 
 of God that his feet had been turned aside from a 
 path, which, humanly speaking, was so full of promise 
 of happiness. There is a real pathetic sincerity in 
 the following words, from a letter he wrote to his 
 cousin, thereupon. 
 
 " At first, like Jonah, I was more grieved at the loss 
 of my gourd, than at the sight of the many perishing 
 Ninevehs all round 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 Oi' creature love, I feel desirous to be nothing, 
 to have nothing, to ask for nothing, but what He 
 gives. So remarkably and so repeatedly has He 
 
90 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 baffled my schemes of earthly comfort that I am 
 forced at last to believe His determination to be, 
 that I should live in every sense a stranger and pilgrim 
 on this earth." 
 
 And this " stranger and pilgrim " he became hence- 
 forth, carrying about with him a wounded heart, but 
 never more did the question of a human love per- 
 manently distress him. He resumed a correspond- 
 ence with Miss Grenfell, in which he told her of his 
 work and spiritual experiences, and now and again 
 flashes up the old love with its undying fire. But 
 he had taken the position as the will of his God, and 
 with a resignation which He alone could grant to 
 the human will, Henry Martyn started to walk the 
 rest of the way alone. 
 
 When once he had settled in his new sphere, the 
 work of translation began again in greater earnest. 
 He had been labouring hard at Hindustani, and was 
 discouraged to find that within the limits of Behar, 
 he could only communicate with the natives in 
 Beharee. While he obtained no doubt useful assist- 
 ance from his pundits, he got from them but scant 
 encouragement, and was told that the language 
 changed every four miles, as the dialects were innum- 
 erable. Characteristically he met the announcement 
 with unremitting exertion ; a single day's work will 
 show his application, in which the whole morning was 
 spent in Sanscrit study, the afternoon in Behar dialects, 
 and the night, far into the small hours, with the trans- 
 lation of the Parables into the vernacular. In one of 
 his letters home, he admitted that he was working at 
 high pressure. " I fag as hard as ever we did for our 
 degrees at Cambridge. Such a week of labour I never 
 passed, not excepting even the last week before going 
 
SORROW FORGOTTEN IN LAP.OUR. 91 
 
 into the Senate House. I have read and corrected 
 the MSS. copies of my Hindustani Testament so 
 often that my eyes ache. The heat is terrible, often 
 at ninety-eight degrees ; the nights insupportable." 
 
 In the midst of this toil, he did not fail to discuss, 
 where the opportunity presented itself, the truths of 
 the Christian religion with his moonshee, who, in 
 addition to a somewhat fiery frame of mind, had all 
 the Oriental aptitude for cavilling at nice points and 
 exhibiting an ignorant opposition to the faith for 
 which he must have seen that his master would 
 willingly sacrifice himself 
 
 Thus when they are reading together the Gospel 
 of St. John at the third chapter, this man could not 
 understand how Jesus Christ could represent Himself 
 as being in two places at one time, being "come down 
 from heaven and yet as the Son of Man which is in 
 heaven." When, however, they were translating the 
 Epistle of St. John, still more did the learned heathen 
 marvel at the sayings which to his master were full 
 of comforting meanings, but to the poor moonshee 
 seemed so much jargon for which he had only 
 contempt He would not believe that the angels 
 should separate the evil from the good, and stated with 
 much indignation, " That there was 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 deltas (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." 
 
 Patiently Martyn endeavoured to explain the doc- 
 trines of the Scriptures, but with little success. He felt 
 much disappointment in his want of facility in the 
 
92 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 language; for while the Asiatic talked on volubly, he 
 could only get in a word here and there in reply. In 
 argument he found it, therefore, difficult to establish 
 a position, and to enforce the true meaning of 
 the texts in dispute. Falling back from logic he 
 strove to impress the moonshee by the weight of a 
 personal experience, and assured him that his " chief 
 enjoyment, even now on earth, was the enjoyment of 
 God's presence and a growing conformity to Him, 
 and, therefore," he says, " 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 oh, what a change must have been 
 wrought in me ! " 
 
 Trained as this Mohammedan had been in the Koran, 
 the doctrine of the Trinity presented to him an 
 insuperable difficulty. He revolted from the supposi- 
 tion that God could have a Son. At the end of a 
 conversation on this head, Martyn ventured to suggest 
 that the Koran might after all be false, which made 
 him exceedingly angry, and also filled his master with 
 misgivings as to whether indeed he had not defeated 
 his own purpose by pressing him on such a point. This 
 conclusion, at any rate, he came to from the experi- 
 ence of these incidents, that " if any qualification 
 seems necessary to a missionary in India, it is wisdom 
 — operating in the regulation of the temper, and the 
 due improvement of opportunities." A reflection 
 which possibly would apply with equal force to the 
 heathen at home. 
 
 When he had fairly begun his official duties as 
 chaplain at Dinapore, he met with the old trouble in 
 the English society there which had made him 
 
SORROW FOKOOTTEN IN LAROUR 
 
 93 
 
 SO unpopular in Calcutta. Once more the ofTcnce of 
 tlie Cross moved many of his hearers to dispute his 
 teaching, and in discharging his sacred offices among 
 them he became very unpopular. His words were 
 objected to, his methods severely criticised, and 
 opposition to his zeal openly expressed. But if the 
 Dinapore congregation fancied that such a course 
 
 
 1 . : ■ / / . . • 1 
 
 'V^'//>*S>.,, -»^yy,}^^„^-,.. 
 
 VJ^^' 
 
 
 / ^ 
 
 •i^i^i^^,, Ui^y,^ u^u'i^t 
 "rfU^'": ''"ir" 
 
 rACSI.MILE OK MARIYN S MS. OF NEW TESTAMENT. 
 
 would intimidate their young clergyman, they had 
 entirely mistaken their man. A strong adverse wind 
 of persecution never failed to make Martyn pursue 
 more bravely his way of duty. While a most 
 merciless critic of himself, he would allow no one to 
 hinder the good work to which, in God's name, he 
 had set his hand. Over every baffling wave of con- 
 
94 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 tention he rose to push forward. Even the want of 
 apparent success was not going to daunt a heart fully 
 assured of a Divine leading. 
 
 " Let me labour for fifty years, amidst scorn and 
 without 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," he exclaims with 
 almost exultation, " 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 mine enemies round 
 about me, and I sing, yea, I will sing praises unto 
 the Lord." 
 
 Strange to say, the rooted idea, born of a guilty 
 instinct, was that if Henry Martyn preached to the 
 natives, it would interfere with the safe government 
 of the country. This feeling was increased by the 
 unexpected arrival of twelve thousand Mahratta 
 troops on this station, and any attempt on the part of 
 the new chaplain to preach the Gospel to them was 
 looked upon with alarm. Such were the foolish 
 hindrances to which he was constantly subject, the 
 English looking askance at him, the natives eyeing 
 him with suspicion as he passed by in his palanquin, 
 so little did they know that the thin, w^m-faced 
 missionary was burning with a Christ-like love for 
 their souls. However, like not a few other faithful 
 witnesses under like discouragements from the elders, 
 he turned to the children. He had, in coming to 
 Dinapore, found the schools in a most unsatisfactory 
 condition, and he determined to increase them in 
 number and efficiency. He saw truly that a Christian 
 
SORROW FORGOTTEN IN LAT.OUR. 95 
 
 education would in time loosen the fetters of super- 
 stition. In writing to his friend Mr. Corrie he puts 
 this plainly : — " I should like to hear of a Christian 
 school established at Benares, it will be like the ark 
 of God brought into the house of Dagon. ... If 
 nothing else comes of your schools, one thing I feel 
 assured of — that the children will grow up ashamed 
 of the idolatry and other customs of their country." 
 
 With much toil he managed to set this important 
 work going well, five of the schools at Dinapore 
 being supported out of his own pocket. But ere long 
 difficulties arose and impeded his efforts. A rumour 
 was set abroad that the new chaplain was going by 
 force to make these native children all Christians, and 
 as a result a panic seized the settlement, crowds of 
 people gathered about the Patna school, from which 
 both teachers and children had hurriedly fled. On 
 coming to give explanation and restore order, the 
 heart of Martyn was stirred with indignation at 
 seeing one of the grey-headed servants of the East 
 India Company openly professing Mohammedanism, 
 and flaunting his apostasy by having had a mosque 
 specially built for him, the lights of which at night 
 reminded the natives of his fall from Christianity. 
 Although the offender held high office in the service 
 the young missionary found him out and delivered 
 his own soul by openly rebuking him for his sinful 
 conduct. After this straight talk with a renegade, he 
 soon put an end to the disturbance and restored the 
 schools to their former condition. 
 
 ^~Trr~ffenry Martyn the native population of India 
 ever had a fast and faithful friend. He saw with 
 grief the oppressions to which they were subject, and 
 did all in his power to alleviate their burdens. 
 
96 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 Doubtless this sympathy with them was one of the 
 reasons why he was so unpopular with their military 
 and civil masters. He took his stand upon the 
 principles of the New Testament and denounced the 
 conventional infraction thereof On one occasion 
 his servant had been taken prisoner by a Cotual, the 
 head of a band of murderous robbers, and Martyn, 
 sending word to the man to offer nothing for his 
 release, forthwith set out for Buxan to insist upon it. 
 He bearded the lion in his den. The sufferings of 
 many of the victims of this freebooter called for 
 redress, and the heroic young cleric, who had been 
 threatened with assassination on the way by the hands 
 of swarms of the robber's adherents, did not hesitate 
 to rescue his servant and oppose the continuance 
 of this man's villainy. " I thought it, however," he 
 quietly enters in his journal, "a duty I owed to 
 God, to him, to the poor oppressed natives, and to my 
 country, to exert myself in this business, and I felt 
 authorised to risk my life." 
 
 On his way to Buxan he walked early in the morning 
 one day to a pagoda where he saw an aged Brahmin 
 reading the sacred books and expounding them to a 
 group of listening natives. He was very much struck 
 with the sight. The old man sat in the shade of a huge 
 banyan tree ; he presented a most venerable appearance, 
 his hair and long beard being white as snow. He 
 was dressed in the garments of his sacred order, and 
 upon his head was a garland of beautiful flowers. 
 By his side sat a servant of the Rajah, and Martyn, 
 after waiting a long time listening to the old man's 
 monotonous singing of the Sanscrit verses of the 
 Huribuns, began to ask a few questions, and soon was 
 fully conversing with the Brahmin upon the way of 
 
SORROW FORGOTTEN IN LABOUR. 97 
 
 salvation throiifrh the atonement of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ. It is significant that the old man at the close 
 of the interview expressed a sincere pleasure in 
 meeting with an Englishman who cared everything 
 for religion. 
 
 One of the most precious relics of Henry Martyn 
 is a number of volumes of his manuscript Persian 
 New Testament. Of the open page of one of these 
 we have given a reproduction by the kindness of the 
 Church Missionary Society. The friend who presented 
 them to the museum in Salisbury Square states on a 
 brief record accompanying the volumes that they were 
 purchased by him at a second-hand book shop in 
 Birmingham. How these valuable manuscripts trav- 
 elled thither it is impossible to divine, but it must be 
 a cause of much thankfulness to every reader ot 
 Martyn's life to know that they are now carefully 
 preserved. 
 
^ S+HvRBtT 
 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE WORD OF GOD FOR THE PEOPLE. 
 
 Let me no more my comfort draw 
 
 From my frail hold of Thee, 
 In this alone rejoice with awe, 
 
 Thy mighty grasp of n\Q.^JoIm Henry Newma?!. 
 
 IT is one of those inscrutable providences of the 
 Almighty, teaching us how incapable we are of 
 judging His wisdom, that trial and disappoint- 
 ment are often the lot of those of His witnesses 
 who are constitutionally most sensitive to feel them. 
 The progress of this pilgrim confessor of the faith is 
 a striking illustration of this. His condition, if we 
 may really see a true reflection of himself in his own 
 words, was that of restless reaching forward to achieve 
 more victories for the Cross, a sort of sanctified 
 impatience to spend and be spent in the name and 
 service of his God. And yet, humanly speaking, for 
 these efforts he was altogether unfit, and again and 
 again discouragements and disparagements, both with- 
 out and within, came to beat him wingless to the earth'. 
 
TITK WORD OF GOD FOR THE PEOPLE. 99 
 
 only to rise again. Henry Martyn, probably, from 
 the hour of congratulation when he won his position 
 as senior wrangler at Cambridge, never knew what it 
 was to suffer the praise of man. Like the great 
 apostle, whose career had such an enthralling interest 
 for him, he, too, was an unappreciated messenger of 
 God, receiving the opprobrium of his own people, and 
 the contempt of the Gentiles, for whom he gave away 
 his very life in love. 
 
 The history of Martyn at Dinapore was not unlike 
 that at Calcutta, the Europeans holding aloof, the 
 natives shy and suspicious, and the work generally 
 uphill and difficult. His services were sometimes not 
 attended by a single European, and he was thankful 
 to get a few native women to hear him explain in 
 Hindustani the Word of the Lord. All this threw him 
 back upon himself, or rather into the arms oi^ his God, 
 for his journals and letters at this time show how 
 truly in his case tribulation worketh patience, and 
 trials, sifting self from his aims, gave increase of faith 
 and hope. His mind reverts to " that dear saint of 
 God, David Brainerd, a man truly after my own 
 heart." Then would come occasional gleams across 
 the darkness, enough to show him that he was in the 
 right way. A poor man in the hospital, to whom he 
 had been ministering as was his wont, and who 
 evidently knew something of his surroundings and 
 work, greatly surprised Martyn one day by telling 
 him that if he made an acquisition of but one convert 
 in his whole life it would be a rich reward, and that 
 he was taking the only possible way to this end. He 
 was also much encouraged when one of the officers 
 " who from the first had treated me with the kindness 
 of a father," became, through his ministry, a decided 
 
100 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 Christian. And he tells us with what joy he had 
 communion of spirit with a few of the men in the 
 ranks, who from this time came to read the Bible 
 with him. 
 
 With his pundit, he had little encouragement in the 
 work of understanding spiritually, although much 
 help in translating intellectually, the Holy Scriptures. 
 Martyn was certainly faithful with this rather flippant 
 Hindu, and warned him of the responsibility he 
 incurred in being brought into contact with the truths 
 of the Gospel. " I told him," says he, " 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 Hindus 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 
 effectively silenced him on that head." 
 
 His moonshee was also continually battling with 
 him upon the superiority of Mohammed to Christ. 
 As a rule this heated Mohammedan discussed the 
 most trifling details with needless ardour, but 
 occasionally from his mouth would fall a remark 
 worth recording, as expressing his estimate of the 
 strength of his own religious faith, and the futility of 
 the Christian religion in his eyes. One day after 
 Martyn had been teaching him the doctrines of 
 Christ, and showing him their superiority over other 
 religions, we are told that " he spoke of the ineffectual 
 endeavours of man to root out Islamism as a proof of 
 its being from God, and objected to Christianity 
 
THE WORD OF GOD FOR THE PEOPIJC. lOI 
 
 because there were no difficulties in it — devotion only 
 once a- week, prayer or no prayer just when or where 
 we pleased, eating with or without washing, and that 
 in general it was a life of carelessness with us." Such 
 an impression of course he could not have received 
 from the conduct of his master, but it was the result of 
 observation, which made then in India is made still 
 nearer home, that Christians, so-called, find it easy to 
 profess but hard to practise the self-sacrifice and 
 holiness which the New Testament enjoins. 
 
 A learned Brahmin called upon the pundit one 
 day, and copied out carefully the Ten Command- 
 ments which Martyn had recently rendered into 
 Sanscrit, as he intended to keep them all most 
 strictly, so that by such means he might find union 
 with God. But he had one comment to make on 
 going away. " There was nothing," he said, " com- 
 manded 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 very 
 name of God, should he go to heaven ? " 
 
 With a like ignorance, a Ranee or Indian princess, 
 to whom he had sent a copy of his Hindustani 
 Testament, begged to be informed what she had to 
 do for the book to be of advantage to her, whether 
 to pray or to make a salaam or bow to it ? To this 
 enquiry Martyn speedily replied, adding such advice 
 as should open the eyes of this darkened daughter of 
 India to understand the truths of the Word of God. 
 It would seem, however, that his instruction had not 
 been very successful, for, after a time, when he heard 
 again from the Ranee, it was to request him to use his 
 private influence on her behalf with one of the judges 
 
102 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 before whom she had a cause to plead. " I felt hurt," 
 he writes, " at considering how low a sovereign prin- 
 cess 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, it was 
 no affair of mine as she seemed to suppose it to be." 
 
 Amid his multifarious duties Martyn found time to 
 study the writings of the Deists, which were so com- 
 mon in the age in which he lived, and especially did 
 he seek by the study of Leland to refute the teaching 
 of the Koran, which everywhere met him as the scrip- 
 tures of the Mohammedans. There is little doubt 
 that he would have proved a valiant champion of 
 revealed truth, his wide reading and dialectic powers 
 showing much to his advantage in dealing with these 
 learned Hindus, and might have been still more 
 effective, had he been at home, in refuting the sceptics 
 of the day. It was one of his characteristics that, 
 with all his culture, he held with steadfast loyalty to 
 the simplicity of Christian faith, and would accept no 
 converts until they had given satisfactory evidence of 
 a vital change of heart and life. His friend, Mr. Corrie, 
 begged his advice on several points of perplexities 
 with which he had to deal in baptising those who pro- 
 fessed Christianity, and his answer was explicit, that 
 no mere intellectual acceptance of Christianity would 
 justify the admission of those who were evidently 
 strangers to its power. 
 
 His translations at this time were becoming more 
 and more a source of happiness to him ; shut up in 
 Dinapore, where news from the outer world came 
 seldom, he felt he was undisturbed in his study of the 
 Word of God. He had translated the Prayer-Book 
 into Hindustani, and also produced a most useful little 
 
Tirr: word of r.on for ttff ffoplr 103 
 
 commentary upon the Parables, written in such a 
 manner as to become easily understood and appreci- 
 ated by the people. He felt perfectly happy in these 
 pursuits, only longing for the time when he could be 
 
 
 A PUiNDIT. 
 
 free to go more amongst the natives and preach the 
 Gospel in the very midst of their idolatry. On his 
 visit to Patna his heart burned to rush into the streets, 
 Bible in hand, uttering the Words of Life, but he decided 
 
104 HENRY IMARTYN. 
 
 reluctantly to wait until the schools, and most of all 
 the dissemination of the Scriptures in their own 
 tongue, should pave a way. 
 
 A very urgent request reached him one day from 
 his old friend, Mr. Brown of Calcutta, urging him to 
 retire from Dinapore, and become the minister of the 
 Mission Church of the Presidency. In many respects 
 the prospect might have attractions, but Martyn 
 instantly rejected any proposition which would hinder 
 his great mission to the poor benighted people of 
 India. He cared nothing for publicity or fame ; God 
 had weaned him from this infirmity of noble youth, 
 and he preferred to remain where he was. Thus he 
 writes in his journal on this subject : — 
 
 " 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 anything is done or even 
 before anything is begun. I sometimes rejoice that 
 I am not twenty-seven years of age ; and that, unless 
 God should order it otherwise, I may double the num- 
 ber in constant and successful labour. If not, God 
 has many, many more instruments at His command, 
 and I shall not cease from my happiness, and scarcely 
 from my work, by departing into another world. Oh 
 who 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." 
 
TIIK WORD OF COD FOR THE 1M-:0PLK. I05 
 
 The serenity of spirit which is breathed by these 
 words was preserved amid increasing trials of patience. 
 To help him in his work of translation, Mirza, a gifted 
 Hindustani scholar, and an Arabian, Sabat, had 
 recently arrived. The former appears to have been 
 of much service, but Sabat proved a very thorn in his 
 side. He seems to have been well recommended, but 
 it soon became apparent that he had no knowledge 
 of the spirit of Christ, though outwardly professing 
 the faith ; indeed his fiery and untamed Arab blood 
 was continually breaking out into such fury that 
 Martyn found his own house well-nigh unbearable. 
 At times these exhibitions of temper were so violent 
 that his master had to fly for refuge elsewhere ; and 
 no part of this history shows more clearly the long- 
 suffering of this patient man than does his forbearance 
 with his chief moonshee. " Sabat," says he in a letter, 
 " instead of comforting and encouraging me in my 
 difficulties and trials, aggravates my pain ; " and yet he 
 bore with him, partly because he felt the assistance of 
 Sabat of such value in his translation of the New 
 Testament into Persian, and partly because he was 
 loath to cast off one who had evidently the Christian 
 lesson yet to learn. On one occasion this hot-headed 
 Arabian actually went so far out of spite as to write a 
 letter to the British Resident speaking in most dis- 
 respectful terms of his master. This letter was 
 promptly forwarded to Martyn in order that he might 
 deal with the offender. He at once summoned Sabat 
 into his presence, and placing the letter in his hand, 
 bade him to read it aloud. For once the man was 
 utterly cowed, and trembled before the quiet dignity 
 of the master whom he had wronged. Instead of 
 reading it he fell at Martyn's feet begging his forgive- 
 
I06 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 ness, which was most readily granted, with the com- 
 forting assurance that he had not read the letter 
 himself, and it might be destroyed. Unhappily, this 
 man, who had the unique advantage of so much of 
 Martyn's society and teaching, in the end apostatised. 
 
 A letter from England came to Martyn's hands 
 with news which well-nigh broke his heart. From 
 the collapse of his hopes as regards Miss Lydia 
 Grenfell he seems to have recovered, or at any rate to 
 have become so absorbed in his work that he was 
 unconscious of its pain. But now in this letter he 
 heard that his eldest sister was dead. She had corre- 
 sponded with him up to a short time before her death, 
 and some words in her last letter made him uneasy 
 on account of her health. He loved her greatly, and 
 since bidding her good-bye he had prayed continu- 
 ously for her conversion ; and in the letter which 
 brought him the tidings of her sudden decease, he 
 had the comforting intelligence that she died in the 
 Lord. But it was a shock to him, and he shows how 
 keenly he felt the severance when he says in a letter 
 to his friend Mr. Brown about it : " Human nature 
 bleeds — her departure has left this world a frightful 
 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." 
 
 Overwork, anxiety of mind, this painful loss, and 
 disregard of the precautions as to health, so necessary 
 in such a climate, again told upon Martyn, and he rose 
 one morning with such pain and fever that he fainted, 
 and slowly recovering consciousness, he suffered so 
 that he felt his hour had come. " Lying in pain 
 which made me almost breathless, I turned my 
 thoughts to God ; and, oh, praise be to His grace 
 
THE WORD OF COD FOR THE FKOrLE. I07 
 
 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 means of 
 some ether, the Lord gave me ease, and I made my 
 will. The day was spent in great weakness, but my 
 heart was often filled with the sweetest peace and 
 gratitude for the precious things God hath done for 
 me." 
 
 But the worker is immortal till his work be done, 
 and God had appointed for Martyn a few more years 
 of travail and service, of endurance for His name's 
 sake, ere he reached the rest of eternal peace. 
 
 In April, 1809, ^^e summons came for Martyn to 
 leave Dinapore and take the chaplaincy of the troops 
 at Cawnpore, a name which has had an awful 
 notoriety since then. His journey thither was pursued 
 with such eager haste, that it was a marvel that 
 Martyn reached there alive. He admits himself that 
 the travelling from Allahabad was distressing beyond 
 description. He was borne in a fainting condition in 
 his palanquin half dead, " the wind blowing flames" 
 and his bearers so overcome that it took six hours to 
 accomplish the last twelve miles. Mrs. Sherwood, 
 who was privileged to be the faithful and gentle 
 friend of INIartyn at this critical period of his life, has 
 left on record an account of his condition when, on 
 reaching Cawnpore, he appeared at her door. 
 
 "The month of April in the upper provinces of 
 Hindustan 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 liie. But Mr. Martyn had that anxiety 
 to be in the work which his Heavenly Father had 
 
I08 HENRY MARTY N. 
 
 given him to do, that, notwithstanding the violent 
 heat, he travelled from Chunar to Cawnpore, the space 
 of four hundred miles. At that time, as I well remem- 
 ber, the air was 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, frown- 
 ing 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." 
 
 The natives for whom he made these sacrifices 
 received him with little attention, and his public utter- 
 ances were met with derision, shouts, and hisses. He 
 solemnly warned them of death and the judgment 
 to come, and, although feeling all the weakness of a 
 dying man, he exerted himself to the utmost to preach 
 the Gospel, either in the open square, or from the 
 verandah of his house. He writes in his journal very 
 gratefully of the baptism of a poor old Hindu woman, 
 " who, though she knew but little, was lowliness 
 itself." 
 
 But again his health hopelessly broke down, and 
 the earthly tenement of that brave, heroic soul seemed 
 nearly shattered. The news of the death of his 
 youngest sister, following so close upon that of his 
 elder, accentuated his grief and weakness. " Oh, my 
 
 dearest S ," he wrote just before the sad tidings 
 
 came, " that disease which preyed upon our mother 
 
THE WORD OF GOD FOR THE PEOrLE. IO9 
 
 and dear sister, and has often shown itself in me, has, 
 I fear, attacked you. Although I parted from you in 
 the expectation of never seeing you in this life, and 
 though I know that you are, and have long been, pre- 
 pared to go, yet to lose my last near relation, my only 
 sister, in nature and grace, is a dreadful stroke." The 
 stroke fell, and the brother nearly fell with it. 
 
 The gospels of his Persian New Testament had 
 been adjudged by the authorities at Calcutta to abound 
 too much with Arabian idioms, and were returned to 
 Martyn for revision. Instantly he resolved to leave 
 Cawnpore~an3~ma"ke his way to Persia, in order to 
 make the work absolutely complete. Referring the 
 decision to his friend, Mr. Brown of Calcutta, this was 
 the reply he received : — 
 
 " Can I then bring myself to cut the string and let 
 you go? I confess I could not, if your bodily frame 
 were strong, and promised to last for half-a-century. 
 But as you burn with the intenseness and rapid 
 blaze of heated phosphorus, why should we not make 
 the most of you ? Your flame may last as long, and 
 perhaps longer, in Arabia as in India. Where should 
 this phoenix build her odoriferous nest but in the land 
 prophetically called the blest ? And where shall we 
 ever expect, but from that country, the True Com- 
 forter to come to the nations of the East ? : I contem- 
 plate 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."J 
 

 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 W 
 
 BREAKS DOWN. 
 
 Christ leads me through no darker rooms 
 
 Than He went through before ; 
 He that into God's kingdom comes 
 
 Must enter by this door. — Richard Baxter. 
 
 HILE Henry Martyn was still at Cawnpore, 
 he greatly deplored the presence and work of 
 the Roman Catholic missionaries among the 
 natives. In the regiment to which he was 
 attached, the Romanist soldiers numbered a thousand, 
 who, while they paid a certain amount of respect to 
 Martyn, held aloof from him, lest they should be 
 infected with Protestant teaching. Their priest was 
 an Italian, Julius Caesar by name, and his co-religion- 
 ists in the barracks did not fail to comment upon the 
 simplicity of his dress as a Franciscan friar, compared 
 with the luxurious and sporting aspect of the clergy 
 of the Church of England in India. With this Italian 
 padre Henry Martyn had many rather heated discus- 
 
BREAKS DOWN. Ill 
 
 sions, in which the friar came off second best, and 
 was much shocked at the denunciations which Martyn 
 poured forth upon Rome for her idolatries. "If you 
 had uttered such a sentiment in Italy you would have 
 been burned," said the padre; and at one point in the 
 discussion seemed so afraid of being converted, that 
 he lifted up his eyes and prayed that such might not 
 be the case, and that the religion of the Protestants 
 might never enter his native land. Apart from his 
 doctrinal objection to Protestantism, he admitted sub- 
 sequently that he based his objections to its teaching 
 chiefly upon the sorry practice of godliness which 
 he had seen amongst its professors in Geneva and 
 Leghorn. Martyn, with his characteristic fairness, 
 did not fail to see the advantages of Roman Catholic 
 discipline, especially among the troops in India ; and 
 as regards the energetic padre, he could not help 
 liking the man, much as he detested his opinions. 
 He notes that he had a regard for this " serious and 
 unassuming young man." But contact with a Romish 
 priest made Martyn's zeal against idolatry and false 
 doctrine flare up with jealous loyalty to the truth of the 
 Gospel, and in the midst of his many spiritual enemies 
 in India, he is almost startled to find Romanising so 
 much on the alert. " Who would have thought," he 
 exclaims, '* 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." 
 
 While working away with untiring energy among 
 the natives at Cawnpore, preaching to crowds of 
 beggars from the verandah of his house, rebuking the 
 worldliness of the Europeans, instructing the native 
 women, and consoling the sick and soul-distressed, 
 ]\Iartyn experienced such a break-down of health, 
 
112 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 that immediate action to get him to change and rest 
 became necessary. His old malady in the lung 
 reappeared with serious symptoms ; his voice, never 
 very strong, became weaker and almost inaudible, and 
 his general exhaustion was extreme. He decided 
 very reluctantly to leave Cawnpore, and seek restora- 
 tion of strength by a holiday in journeys through 
 Persia and Arabia. 
 
 Mrs. Sherwood, in her autobiography, gives us, per- 
 haps, the best idea of Martyn at this time, and as he 
 was a constant and intimate visitor in her household 
 circle,she had special advantages of observinghim. She 
 thus described his appearance when at Cawnpore : — 
 
 " He was dressed in white, and looked very pale, 
 which, however, was nothing singular in India ; his 
 hair, a light brown, was raised from his forehead, 
 which was a remarkably fine one. His features were 
 not regular, but the expression was so luminous, so 
 intellectual, so affectionate, so beaming with Divine 
 charity, that no one could have looked at his features 
 and thought of their shape and form ; the out-beam- 
 ing of his soul would absorb the attention of every 
 observer. There was a decided air, too, of the gentle- 
 man about Mr. Martyn, and a perfection of manner, 
 which from his extreme attention to all minute civili- 
 ties, might seem almost inconsistent with the general 
 bent of his thoughts to the most serious subjects. He 
 was as remarkable for ease as for cheerfulness. He 
 did not appear like one who felt the necessity of con- 
 tending with the world, and denying himself its 
 delights, but rather as one who was unconscious of 
 the existence of any attractions in the world, or of 
 any delights which were worthy of his notice. When 
 he relaxed from his labours in the presence of his 
 
DREAKS DOWN. II3 
 
 friends, it was to play and laugh like an innocent 
 child, more especially if children were present to play 
 and laui,di with him." 
 
 It was the custom of Henry Martyn to gather 
 under the verandah of his bungalow a large crowd of 
 beggars, fakirs, and the very off-scourings of the place, 
 to whom he gave money. His aim, however, was to 
 bring them within reach of the words of eternal 
 life, and therefore to this motley assemblage he would 
 stand and solemnly read the Scriptures in Hindustani, 
 to which, it must be admitted, they listened with but 
 slight attention. He continued this until the very last, 
 and again quoting from the interesting recollections of 
 Mrs. Sherwood, we have a very affecting account of 
 the last sermon he preached, and the last time he 
 spoke to these wretched people. The scene vividly 
 brings before us the man and his sphere of work. 
 
 " From his first arrival at the station, Mr. Martyn 
 had been labouring to effect the purpose which he 
 then saw completed, namely, the opening of a place 
 of worship. He was permitted to see it, to address 
 the congregation once, and then he was summoned to 
 depart. How often, how very often, are human 
 beings called away, perhaps from this world, at the 
 moment they have been enabled to bring to bear 
 some favourite object. Blessed are those whose 
 object has been such a one as that of Henry Martyn. 
 Alas ! he was known to be, even then, in a most 
 dangerous state of health, either burnt within by slow 
 inflammation, which gave a flush to his cheek, or pale 
 as death from weakness and lassitude. 
 
 " On this occasion the bright glow prevailed — a 
 brilliant light shone from his eyes — he was filled with 
 hope and joy, he saw the dawn of better things, he 
 
 II 
 
114 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 thought, at Cawnpore, and most eloquent, earnest, 
 and affectionate was his address to the congregation. 
 Our usual party accompanied him back to his 
 bungalow, where being arrived he sank, as was often 
 his way, nearly fainting on a sofa in the hall. Soon, 
 however, he revived a little, and called us all about 
 him to sing. It was then that we sang to him that 
 sweet hymn which thus begins : — 
 
 " ' O God, our help in ages past, 
 Our hope for years to come, 
 Our shelter from the stormy blast, 
 And our eternal home.' 
 
 "We all dined early together, and then returned 
 with our little ones to enjoy some rest and quiet, but 
 when the sun began to descend to the horizon, we 
 again went over to Mr. Martyn's bungalow to hear 
 his last address to the Fakeers. It was one of those 
 sickly, hazy, burning evenings which I have often 
 before described, and the scene was precisely such 
 a one as I have recounted above. Mr. Martyn nearly 
 fainted again after this effort, and when he got to his 
 house with his friends about him, he told us that he 
 was afraid that he had not been the means of doing the 
 smallest good to any one of the strange people whom 
 he had thus so often addressed. He did not even know 
 of the impression he had been enabled to make on one 
 of these occasions on Shiek Saleh. On the Monday 
 our beloved friend went to his boats which lay at the 
 Ghaut nearest the bungalow, but in the cool of the 
 evening, however, whilst Miss Corrie and myself were 
 taking the air in our tonjons, he came after us on 
 horseback. There was a gentle sadness in his aspect 
 as he accompanied me home, and Miss Corrie came 
 also. Once again we all supped together, and united 
 
BREAKS DOWN. II5 
 
 in one last hymn. We were all low, very, very low ; 
 we could never expect to behold again that face 
 which we then saw, or to be again elevated and 
 instructed by that conversation. It was impossible to 
 hope that he would survive the fatigue of such a 
 journey as he meditated. Often and often, when 
 thinking of him, have these verses, so frequently sung 
 by him, come to my mind — 
 
 X 
 + 
 
 " ' E'er since by faith I saw the stream, 
 Thy flowing wounds supply, 
 Redeeming love has been my theme, 
 And shall be till I die. 
 
 " ' Then in a nobler, sweeter song, 
 I '11 sing Thy power to save, 
 When this poor lisping, stamm'ring tongue 
 Lies silent in the grave.'" 
 
 He then departed, after farewells which he evidently 
 keenly felt, and passed down the river to Calcutta, meet- 
 ing with his friend, the Rev. David Brown, once more. 
 
 His friends were shocked to see such a change for 
 the worse after an absence of four years, and one of 
 his brethren who had followed him from Cambridge, 
 writing to the Rev. Charles Simeon, gives a picture of 
 Martyn at that time, and shows what hopes and fears 
 alternated respecting his prospects of recovery. This 
 correspondent was an intimate friend of the Rev. 
 Charles Simeon, and had reached India with his wife 
 after a merciful escape from the shipwreck of their 
 vessel. He writes thus of Martyn : — 
 
 " He is on his way to Arabia, where he is going in 
 pursuit of health and knowledge. You know his 
 genius and what gigantic strides he takes in every- 
 thing. He has some great plan in his mind of which I 
 am no competent judge ; but as far as I do understand 
 
Il6 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 it, the object is far too grand for one short Hfe, and 
 much beyond his feeble and exhausted frame. Feeble 
 it is indeed ! how fallen and changed ! His complaint 
 lies in his lungs and appears to be an incipient 
 consumption. But let us hope that the sea air may 
 revive him, and that change of place and pursuit may 
 do him essential service and continue his life for 
 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 we are reminded of his being ' dust and ashes.' "y 
 Martyn, at this time, was persuaded to relinquish 
 work, and applied to the Governor-General, Lord 
 Minto, and the Adjutant-General of the Army, for 
 sick leave, which was readily granted. That he did 
 so is almost surprising, considering the habitual dis- 
 regard paid by him to his own health. For if ever 
 there was a worker whose aim seemed to be to wear 
 out or burn out in his labour, Henry Martyn was that 
 man. As we have seen in his journey from Dinapore 
 to Cawnpore, the young missionary disregarded the 
 important consideration of climate which a European 
 must observe if he means to live, and he worked as 
 though his strength was as exhaustless as his spiritual 
 energy. But ere this collapse came at Cawnpore he 
 had been warned by evidence which he could not 
 gainsay, that disease, the fell family disease, was 
 making way in his system. When writing to his 
 youngest sister his last letter, to which reference has 
 already been made, he dreaded " that disease which 
 preyed upon our mother and dear sister, and has 
 often shown itself in me, has, I fear, attacked you." 
 
i; REARS DOWN. II7 
 
 It Is the old, old pathetic story of many an unwritten 
 yet noble life, of the spectral truth forcing itself upon 
 the attention of the brave soul and reminding it that 
 the frail tenement in which the lic^ht burns so brightly 
 is shaking, and may fall, though the crash shall give it 
 liberty for ever. It is not difficult to imagine Henry 
 Martyn at this moment, the pen laid down, the thin hand 
 pressed against the throbbing brow, the eyes lustrous 
 with an eager sorrow, looking away beyond the waving 
 palm tree and the azure sky. The dear w^ork, not 
 perhaps to be touched again, the vision of an ever 
 enlarging usefulness quenched in a moment, all the 
 glory of a young saint's dream fading into grey death, 
 the beating heart marking impressively the flight of 
 closing hours. Then sunlight comes, a Divine 
 radiance which brings back the hues of hope, and 
 through the brightness speaks a voice not strange to 
 the disciple, " Let not your heart be troubled." And 
 Martyn, with an unspeakable peace in his heart, faced 
 with a joyful faith the new and untried path in which 
 he must go. " I now pass from India to Arabia, not 
 knowing the things which shall befall me there, but 
 assured that an ever faithful God and Saviour will be 
 with me in all places whithersoever I go. May He 
 guide and protect me, and after prospering me in the 
 thing w^hereunto I go, bring me back again to my 
 delightful work in India! I am perhaps leaving it to 
 see it no more, but the will of God be done, my times 
 are in His hand, and He will cut them as short as 
 shall be most for my good ; and with this assurance 
 I feel that nothing need interrupt my work or my 
 peace." 
 
 Before leaving Calcutta, Henry Martyn preached 
 a sermon on the anniversary of the Calcutta Bible 
 
Il8 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 Society, in which he pleaded with great earnestness 
 that the EngHsh Christians in India should do some- 
 thing to supply their nine hundred thousand fellow- 
 believers in that country with the Holy Scriptures. 
 His text was, "one thing needful;" and a copy of 
 that discourse is in the Library of the British Museum, 
 from which the following extract is given : — 
 
 " Asia must be our care, or, if not all Asia, India, 
 at least, must look to none but us. Honour calls it 
 as well as duty, your reputation for liberality requires 
 that you render their (the natives) assistance unneces- 
 sary. Let us make haste then and anticipate their 
 supplies, and thus prove to our friends and the world 
 that the mother-country need never be ashamed of her 
 sons in India. What a splendid spectacle does she 
 present ! Standing firm amid the overthrow of nations 
 and spreading wide the shadow of her wings for the 
 protection of all, she finds herself at leisure amid 
 the tumult of war, to form benevolent projects for 
 the best interests of mankind. Her generals and 
 admirals have caused the thunder of her power 
 to be heard throughout the earth ; now her ministers 
 of religion perform their part and endeavour to fulfil 
 the high destinies of heaven in favour of their 
 country. They called in their fellow-citizens to 
 cheer the desponding natives with the book of 
 the promises of eternal life, and thus afford them that 
 consolation from the prospect of a happier world which 
 they have little expectation of finding amidst the 
 disasters and calamities of this. The summons was 
 obeyed. As fast as the nature of the undertaking 
 became understood, and perceived to be clearly dis- 
 tinct from all party business and visionary projects, 
 great numbers of all ranks in society and all persua- 
 
r.REAKS DOWN. 1 19 
 
 sions in religion joined with one heart and soul, and 
 began to impart freely to all men, that which, next to 
 the Saviour, is God's best gift to man. . . . 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. He cannot call for a Bible to look for some- 
 thing to support him, or ask his wife or child to read 
 him a consolatory chapter. The Bible, alas, is a 
 treasure which they never had the happiness to 
 possess. Oh pity their distress ! you that have hearts 
 to feel for the miseries of your fellow-creatures, you 
 that have discernment to see that a wounded spirit is 
 far more agonising than any earth-begotten woes, you 
 that know that you too must one day die, oh give 
 unto him what may comfort him in a dying hour. 
 The Lord who loves our brethren, who gave His life 
 for them and you, who gave you the Bible before 
 them, and now wills that they should receive it from 
 you ; He will reward you. They cannot recompense 
 you, but you shall be recompensed at the resurrection 
 of the just. The King Himself will say to you, 
 ' Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of 
 these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me.'" 
 
 In this spirit he takes ship in the Ahmoody bound 
 for Bombay. He finds a very agreeable companion 
 in the Honourable Mountstewart Elphinstone, the 
 distinguished diplomatist, who was on his way to 
 fulfil his duties as Resident at Poonah. There is 
 every reason to believe that these two men, widely as 
 their ultimate aims diverged, became fast friends in 
 this voyage, and their conversation upon a multitude 
 of subjects would be of the deepest interest. Besides 
 this congenial society, Martyn was pleased to get into 
 
120 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 conversation with the captain of the vessel, who had 
 been intimate with Schwartz, and told him much 
 about the mission schools at Panjore. Amongst 
 other things which showed how highly Schwartz was 
 appreciated in his work, he mentioned the fact that 
 when the Rajah was in fear of assassination by his 
 subjects, he had the German missionary to share his 
 room as protection, because he was held in such 
 reverence by the natives. After passing through the 
 Bay of Bengal, which Martyn scarcely enjoyed, being 
 very ill and prostrate with relaxing weakness, just 
 lying on the poop as the ship sped on, they eventually 
 reached Bombay, where he was introduced to Sir 
 John Malcolm and Sir James Mackintosh. Here 
 with perhaps a little restoration of health, he seems 
 to have spent some happy days, and certainly 
 gave Sir John Malcolm the impression that he was 
 capital company and, what at first seems rather start- 
 ling, that he was a cheerful man. When he left for 
 Persia, he received from Sir John a letter of introduc- 
 tion to Sir Gore Ouseley, who was the British Resident 
 in that country. He introduces Martyn as " alto- 
 gether a very learned and cheerful man, but a great 
 enthusiast in his holy calling. I am satisfied that 
 if you ever see him, you will be pleased with him. 
 He will give you grace before and after dinner and 
 admonish such of your party as take the Lord's name 
 in vain, but his good sense and great learning will 
 delight you, whilst his constant cheerfulness will add 
 to the hilarity of your party." 
 
 This certainly presents the young missionary in 
 an entirely new and striking light, possibly a little 
 over-coloured, in that Sir John was noted for his 
 exuberant spirits and bo?ihomie, but still not in any 
 
liRKAKS DOWN. 121 
 
 way can it be dcprcciativc of Martyn's character. 
 ^iThe saintship of Henry Martyn docs not suffer 
 because he could enjoy a hearty laugh, for it is surely 
 true thouj^h apt to be fori^otten in our consideration 
 of good men, that exceeding gravity is not necessarily 
 the evidence of abundant grace, and that there is 
 more of Heaven in laughter than in tears. ' 
 
 On his way to Bombay, Martyn landed several 
 times at different places on the coast, spent a little 
 time in the cinnamon groves of Ceylon, and calling 
 at Goa, went to see the old churches there, and 
 especially the magnificent tomb of St. Francis Xavier. 
 Although this was not his resting-place, for the great 
 Jesuit missionary died on the Chinese shores, pious 
 hands had here prepared a costly monument to his 
 memory. There is something very suggestive in this 
 visit of Henry Martyn to the memorial of one who in 
 many respects was not altogether unlike himself 
 Perhaps he felt this while talking in Latin to several of 
 the monks who stood with him by the tomb, but they 
 on their part could scarcely recognise in the young 
 English priest a servant of the Cross who should as 
 worthily fulfil his true mission, and ere long lay down 
 his life for the Master, as truly as after preaching a far 
 inferior Gospel did the great Jesuit on the sands of 
 Sancian long years before. 
 
 Previous to starting for Persia, Martyn met with a 
 Parsee, Ferroz by name, who could speak Persian, and 
 was also a good Arabic scholar, and with him he had 
 several discussions on the subject of the Christian 
 religion. This man, although attempting to defend 
 Mohammedanism, was evidently without any definite 
 religious convictions himself; he expressed his creed 
 in a phrase which is not unfamiliar to our ears to-day. 
 
122 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 " Every man is safe in his own religion," and at 
 another time spoke contemptuously of the religion of 
 Persia. " In our religion," he said, " they believe as 
 Zoroaster taught, that the heavens and earth were 
 made, but I believe no such thing." 
 
 On the 14th of April, 181 1, the coast of Persia was 
 sighted, and Martyn went on shore at Muscat in 
 Arabia, from which place he writes a long letter to 
 Miss Lydia Grenfell, describing his feelings in view of 
 that country. When on shore he met with an African 
 slave in a little garden which he visited, and who 
 argued with him at great length on the subject of 
 Christianity. To this boy he gave a copy of the 
 Gospels in Arabic, which he began eagerly to read 
 and carried it off as a treasure. 
 
 His next experience was with a party of Armenians 
 at whose house he stayed for a short time in Bushire. 
 The Armenian priest does not seem to have impressed 
 him greatly, although at church he took him within 
 the altar rails and censed him with incense four times 
 as a mark of special favour. Afterwards, when he 
 had the opportunity of talking to the old priest by 
 the shore upon spiritual matters he found him very 
 ignorant and inane. 
 
 He now looked ahead very anxiously for his first 
 contest with the Persians and their religious leaders 
 and teachers, the MoUahs and Soofties. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PERSECUTION IN PERSIA. 
 
 Heaven is, dear Lord, where'er Thou art, ^ 
 Oh, never then from me depart, J- 
 
 For to my soul 'tis hell to be 
 
 But for one moment without Thee. 
 
 Bishop Ken. 
 
 ONCE upon Persian soil, Martyn transformed 
 his outward appearance by the adoption of the 
 native costume. He tells us in a humorous 
 way of the complete change which had thus 
 come over him, so utterly different from the simple 
 black cassock or white surplice of his days in India. 
 He now wore red stockings and boots in one, large 
 blue trousers, then a white shirt under his bright 
 tunic, on which he wore the bright chintz coat, and 
 also an overcoat. His headdress was a huge cone of 
 black woolly sheepskin, and he began to accustom 
 himself to the new experience of sitting cross-legged 
 on a Persian carpet in the absence of any chairs. 
 Perhaps the still greater change was in his letting his 
 beard and moustache grow ; it is to be regretted that 
 no portrait exists of him as he looked then. 
 
 123 
 
 ^ 
 
124 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 After paying a visit to the governor of Bushire, 
 a characteristic Persian khan, being surrounded with 
 gorgeous magnificence, of smooth tongue and yet 
 with a murderous history in the background, Martyn 
 and his party began their journey to Shiraz. The 
 procession across the plains in the still moonlight 
 was thoroughly Oriental, and Martyn, the central 
 figure of this strange company, rode slowly along, 
 thinking upon the past, and that strange unknown 
 experience which awaited him in Persia. He tells us 
 that his reflections were somewhat melancholy, he 
 had only recently parted with his European friends, 
 and it was natural that he should be impressed with 
 the solemnity and loneliness of the scene. While 
 they moved along in perfect silence, the whole vault 
 of heaven above them studded with innumerable 
 stars, one of the muleteers began in plaintive and 
 sweet cadences to sing a Persian song. Martyn 
 noted down the words of the two verses, which were 
 as follows : — 
 
 " Think not that e'er my heart could fail, 
 Contented far from thee, 
 How can the fresh-caught nightingale 
 ^ Enjoy tranquillity ? 
 
 y "O then forsake thy friend for nought 
 
 That slanderous tongues can say, 
 The heart that fixeth where it aught, 
 No power can rend away." 
 
 Ere long, however, the sun rose, and with it the 
 rigours and sufferings of their journey began. They 
 pitched their tent under a tree, and Martyn wrapped 
 himself in a blanket and other coverings to keep out 
 the external air, so preserving the moisture of the 
 skin for a short time, but the thermometer rose to 
 
rERSECUTION IN PERSIA. T25 
 
 126 dci^rccs in a short time. His fever and restless- 
 ness now became so great, that he felt the end must 
 soon come if no alteration in the temperature 
 occurred. The welcome evenini,^ came at last, and 
 with the darkness a delicious cool which restored the 
 travellers ; but the next day the heat was quite as 
 excessive, and Martyn lay quiet with his head 
 muffled up in a large wet towel, as a defence against 
 the sun's vehement rays. Not only perils by climate 
 tried him there, for a scorpion fastened on his clothes, 
 and was providentially killed before it bit him, which 
 provoked the earnest gratitude of the young mis- 
 sionary. They passed a river slowly moving seawards, 
 as though composed of thick green oil ; they climbed 
 mountains with such dangerous pathways, that it was 
 marvellous how the poor tired horses kept their 
 footing ; penetrated dark ravines which were infested 
 by robbers, and from the extreme of burning heat, 
 they found themselves in a plain where the bitter 
 wind made them shiver with cold. Soon, however, 
 fairer scenes burst upon their view, and Martyn tells 
 us in his journal : — " 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 temperature was about 
 that of spring in England. Here a few hours' sleep 
 recovered me in some degree from the stupidity in 
 which I had been for some days. I awoke with a 
 light heart, and said, ' He knoweth our frame ; He 
 remembereth that we are dust. He redeemeth our 
 life from destruction, and crowneth us with lovino-- 
 kindnesses and tender mercies. He maketh us to lie 
 down in green pastures, and leadeth us beside the 
 
126 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 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.' " 
 
 Henry Martyn, after passing through Eri van, with its 
 view of Ararat behind the mosque, reached Shiraz, and 
 here he had attained the ambition of meeting the false 
 religion of Persia at its very seat and centre. The first 
 thing to occupy his attention, was a fresh translation 
 of the Testament into the language of the country, to 
 correct the shortcomings of the one he had completed 
 in India, with the assistance of Sabat. Before com- 
 mencing this work, however, he was much gratified 
 by a visit paid to him by two learned MoUkhs, who 
 had come to discuss with him upon the Mohammedan 
 religion, which they professed. Unlike his previous 
 experiences, Martyn found these men capable of sus- 
 taining a quiet and temperate exchange of opinion, 
 and when one of them read from his translation of 
 the beginning of St. John's gospel, the subject of the 
 divinity of the Lord Jesus Christ was entered upon. 
 Evidently these teachers had imbibed strange notions 
 of Christianity, and when the interview ended, one of 
 them made the pertinent remark : " How much 
 misapprehension is removed when people come to an 
 explanation." 
 
 He had the advantage of the friendship of a 
 Persian of high position and intelligence, Jaffier AH 
 Khan, who received him into his house, and he was 
 further delighted to find that, in the brother-in-law of 
 his host, one Mirza Seid Ali Khan, he would have a 
 willing and capable helper in the work of translation. 
 When we consider that these individuals were staunch 
 
PERSECUTION IN PERSIA. 12/ 
 
 Mohammedans, their generous attention and kindness 
 to the EngHsh missionary does them great credit In 
 a letter to Miss Grenfell, dated the 23rd of June, 18 11, 
 he thus describes his position at this moment, and the 
 impressions which have been formed of his reasons for 
 coming to Persia : — 
 
 " My host is a man of rank— his name, Jafficr AH 
 Khan — who tries to make the period of my captivity 
 as agreeable as possible. His wife, for he has but 
 one, never appears ; parties of young ladies come to 
 see her, but though they stay days in the house, he 
 dare not go into the room where they are. Without 
 intending a compliment to your sex, I must say that 
 the society here, from the exclusion of females, is as 
 dull as it can well be. Perhaps, however, to a stranger 
 like myself, the most social circles would be insipid. 
 I am visited by all the great and the learned ; the 
 former come out of respect to my country, the latter, 
 to my profession. The conversations with the latter 
 are always upon religion, and it would be strange, 
 indeed, if, with the armour of truth on the right hand 
 and on the left, I were not able to combat, with suc- 
 cess, the upholders of such a system of absurdity and 
 sin. As the Persians are a far more unprejudiced 
 and inquisitive people than the Indians, and do not 
 stand quite so much in awe of an Englishman as the 
 timid natives of Hindustan, I hope they will learn 
 something from me. The hope of this reconciles me to 
 the necessity imposed on me of staying here ; about 
 the translation I dare not be sanguine. The prevail- 
 ing opinion concerning me is that I have repaired to 
 Shiraz in order to become a Mussulman. Others, 
 more sagacious, say that I shall bring from India 
 some more, under a pretence of making them Mussul- 
 
128 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 mans, but, in reality, to seize the place. They do not 
 seem to have thought of my wish to have them con- 
 verted to my religion ; they have been so long accus- 
 tomed to remain without proselytes to their own." 
 
 His presence soon became the talk of the city, and, 
 while at his work, he was constantly interrupted by 
 callers, who, from mere curiosity, or in a few cases a 
 real desire to learn something, crowded about him. 
 Jaffier Ali had, with just thoughtfulness, pitched his 
 guest a tent in the gardens, and here, by the margin 
 of a little rivulet of sparkling water, he was reminded 
 of home and his native land by the sweet briar, jessa- 
 mine, and pinks, which grew profusely around. Here 
 he held audience, and answered to the best of his 
 ability the many and curious questions propounded 
 to him. One who was secretary to the prince, and 
 had the reputation of being the principal literary man 
 of the city, told him point-blank that he and every 
 created thing was God, quoting the words of the 
 Koran, " God can be with another thing only by per- 
 vading it ; " then, glancing from argument into poetry, 
 the Persian recited some stanzas, and went away. 
 
 Another asked that trite poser of the West as well 
 as the East, " What is the origin of evil ? " and two 
 young men, *' fresh from college, full of zeal and logic," 
 were for discussing the question of disembodied spirits 
 and similar topics, about which they knew nothing, 
 and could not well increase their knowledge. But the 
 Oriental penchant for petty cavilling was too apparent 
 to justify even the patience of Henry Martyn, who 
 certainly in this respect had the charity which " suf- 
 fereth long and is kind." 
 
 In course of translating the fifth of St. John's 
 gospel, his co-worker was curious to have an explana- 
 

PERSECUTION IN PERSIA. I3I 
 
 tion of the angel troubling the waters, and when 
 Martyn suggested that natural agents might be called 
 angels he seemed satisfied. 
 
 When they were reading together the account of 
 the trial of Jesus, and how the servants of the high 
 priest struck the Lord in the face, the irreverence and 
 insult seems to have impressed Martyn's companion 
 greatly, for he said, with solemnity, " Sir, did not his 
 hand dry up ? " There is a touching interest in many 
 of these conversations which Martyn has very briefly 
 stated in his journal, and they show us not only the 
 faithful witness declaring the truths of the Gospel 
 amid such darkness of unbelief, but also show that in 
 the minds of his inquirers were real seekings after 
 more light. 
 
 A Jew Mohammedan had called, and held a long 
 conversation with Martyn about the Old Testament, 
 justifying his apostasy by declaring that Mohammed 
 was in the Books of Moses, that Europe was Mount 
 Zion, and the Edomites the natives thereof When 
 the talk had ended, and the visitor gone, the young 
 Seid AH quietly asked Martyn for further explanation 
 about this same Messiah whom the Jews had rejected. 
 He listened intently, and was much impressed by 
 hearing in his own language the fifty-third chapter of 
 Isaiah, and his desire seemed to be to retain the 
 doctrines of Islam, and yet embrace Christianity. 
 Henry Martyn firmly but affectionately told him that 
 this would never do, and, after a time, the young 
 Mussulman told his instructor how, " in his childhood, 
 he used to cry while hearing of the sufferings of 
 Christ," and while he spake the tears agafn ran down 
 his face. Surely He who, beholding the young man 
 in Galilee loved him, had also a tender solicitude for 
 
132 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 this young Mussulman, who was not far from the 
 Kingdom of God. 
 
 After a formal presentation to Prince Abbas Mirza, 
 which Martyn graphically described, not forgetting to 
 mention his own extraordinary court costume, wearing 
 red cloth stockings, and rather ungracefully making his 
 way to the hall of audience in high-heeled green shoes, 
 we find him obtaining from the Moojtuhid, or pro- 
 fessor of the Mohammedan law, leave to publicly 
 discuss religion. Then follows an argument of much 
 interest, in which Martyn, as much at home with the 
 Koran as the Bible, completely defeats the logic of 
 the Mollahs, and discloses the heresies of Mohammed- 
 anism and the mystic foolishness of the Soofties. 
 These victories, however, only accentuated the malice 
 of his enemies, and he began to find less courtesy in 
 their dealings with him. This animosity afterwards 
 culminated in a scene which took place after he had 
 left Shiraz, and was with the camp of the King. 
 It cannot be told better than in his own words : — 
 
 " 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 Mollahs, the 
 most ignorant of any I have yet met in either Persia 
 or India. It would be impossible to enumerate all 
 the absurd things they said. Their vulgarity in 
 interrupting me in the middle of a speech ; their utter 
 ignorance of the nature of an argument, their impu- 
 dent assertions about the law and the gospel, neither 
 of which they had ever seen in their lives, aroused 
 my indignation a little. I wished and I said it would 
 have been well if Mirza Abdoolwahad had been there, 
 I should have then had a man of sense to argue with. 
 
rEKSECUTION IN PERSIA. I33 
 
 The Vizlcr, who set us going at first, joined in it 
 latterly, and said, * You had better say, God is God, 
 and Mohammed is the prophet of God.' I said, * God 
 is God,' but added, instead of ' Mohammed is the pro- 
 phet of God,' ' and Jesus is the Son of God' They 
 had no sooner heard this, which I had avoided bring- 
 ing forward till then, than they all exclaimed in 
 contempt and rage, ' He is neither born nor begets,' 
 and rose up as if they would have torn me to pieces. 
 One of them said, 'What will you say when your 
 tongue is burnt out for this blasphemy ? ' 
 
 " 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 Sherfi. As they all rose up after 
 this to go, some to the King, and some away, I was 
 afraid they would trample on the book, so I went in 
 among them to take it up, and wrapped it in a towel 
 before them, while they looked at it and me with 
 supreme contempt. 
 
 " Thus 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." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 ENTERS THE PRESENCE FOR EVERMORE. 
 
 Thine eyes shall see the King I the Mighty One, 
 •*<* The many crowned, the Light enrobed, and He 
 
 ^^ Shall bid thee share the kingdom. He hath one 
 
 Thine eyes shall see ! 
 
 Frances Ridley Havergal. 
 
 THE air was full of storm, but Henry Martyn 
 faced the fury of the Persian zealots with a 
 heart strong in God. He had bearded 
 
 Mohammedanism in its very den, and plucked 
 off by resistless argument the crown of its intellectual 
 prestige. The Mollahs who stood incensed at the 
 name of the Crucified, were doubly angry because 
 the Christian teacher had so well vindicated Plis 
 cause among them. For a time these philosophers 
 had been gratified to air their ideas with characteristic 
 prolixity in the presence of such a distinguished 
 stranger, who had evidently the courteous patience to 
 listen to them ; but on his questions being put, con- 
 fusion filled their mind and discomfiture their faces, 
 for the real battle had begun. From thence was a quick 
 succession on the old lines of persecution, either the 
 
 134 - 
 
ENTERS THE PRESENCE FOR EVERMORE. 1 35 
 
 truth must be silenced by argument, or the witness 
 thereof quieted by harsher means. The marvel is 
 that Martyn was not killed outright for his temerity, 
 possibly his English nationality and his official 
 relations were, humanly speaking, the saving condi- 
 tions. 
 
 While at Shiraz he was more than once struck in 
 the public streets. This he seems to have taken 
 little note of, but one day happening to mention to 
 his host, Jaffier Ali Khan, that a missile as big as 
 his fist had struck him in the back, a swift message of 
 complaint was sent by his host to the governor of the 
 city, who had it declared at the gates that a bas- 
 tinado would be the portion of all who interfered with 
 the Feringee Nabob. 
 
 It is to be noted that in the discussions in which 
 Martyn was involved at this time, the apostate Jew 
 who had embraced Islam was constantly present, and 
 while the Mohammedan Mollahs were reciting from 
 the Koran, this Jew quoted from the Old Testament, 
 and thus the issue of debate often became much 
 confused. The old Israelite was evidently ill at ease, 
 and although there is no evidence given that he 
 abandoned the double falsity of his position in favour 
 of Christianity, he must have been impressed, not 
 only by the logical force of the Christian position, 
 but perhaps more by the devotion and self-forgetful- 
 ness of its witness in the midst of so many enemies. 
 So alarming were the inroads made by Martyn upon 
 the professed wisdom of the Mohammedan faith, that 
 a work was prepared and issued in Arabic defending 
 Islamism. In many respects this was one of the 
 most learned and weighty apologies for the religion 
 ot the False Prophet that has ever seen the light. 
 
136 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 It was the result of much study and labour on the 
 part of the principal Mollah, and in it he makes 
 the following concluding appeal to Martyn himself : — 
 " Thus behold then, O thou that art wise, and con- 
 sider with the eyes of justice, since thou hast no 
 excuse to offer to God. Thou hast wished to see the 
 truth of miracles. We desire you to look at the 
 great Koran — that is an everlasting miracle." 
 
 Henry Martyn could not let this pass unnoticed, 
 and published forthwith, in the same language, an 
 answer thereto, in which he took up the argument 
 point by point, closing with this earnest desire, 
 worthy of a true Christian : — 
 
 "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 everlasting ! " 
 
 Before leaving Shiraz, Martyn paid a visit to the 
 ruins of ancient Persepolis, about thirty miles away, 
 and, after crossing the Araxas by night, saw the 
 dawn break over her mouldering columns and 
 arches, the remnant of a glory long since passed away. 
 Twenty-one centuries had looked down upon these 
 buildings, and to the mind of the English missionary 
 they spoke many solemn truths. 
 
 After a stay of ten months, Martyn left the Athens 
 of Persia behind, and undertook a wearisome journey 
 of eight weeks to Tabriz, in order to obtain the 
 necessary introduction from Sir Gore Ouseley, the 
 British Ambassador there, before presenting his 
 Testament to the King. ^ — ^— -- 
 
ENTERS THE PRESENCE FOR EVERMORE. 1 37 
 
 On his way thither he passed throui^di Ispahan, and 
 made the acquaintance of the Armenian bishops, 
 who took him to their church. Here he was saddened 
 by the utter lack of spirituaHty in the service, and 
 disgusted to see at the time of the sacrament the 
 priests drink off the sacred wine, and devour the 
 bread themselves, while the congregation of poor 
 people waited for it in vain. 
 
 When he arrived at the King's camp at Carech he 
 had an interview with Mirza Shufi, the premier, and 
 passed the ordeal of a close questioning by this 
 functionary, who was not wanting in the curiosity of 
 Eastern dignities. At another time Martyn had a 
 long conversation with a Mussulman in the cool after 
 sunset on the roof of the caravansary. This man, 
 unlike some of the disputants he had previously met 
 with, was deplorably ignorant, and yet, or perhaps in 
 consequence, had a perfect opinion of his own infor- 
 mation. His geographical knowledge was so limited 
 that he could not understand upon which side of 
 India Europe was situated ; and his historical and 
 theological ideas were singularly mixed. He told 
 Martyn that he knew more about the subject of 
 Christianity than he did, but referring to Mohammed 
 he confessed that he was not sure whether the 
 mother of Mehdi was the daughter of Simon Peter, 
 Plato, or the Emperor Constantine. Martyn shocked 
 this shallow doctrinaire by asking him why he was 
 a Mohammedan, and then followed it up by inquiring 
 what one should do to arrive at a knowledge of the 
 truth of that religion. At this the Mussulman grew 
 excited in the prospect of making a convert and 
 solemnly laid down this injunction: 
 
 " Drink no wine for three days, pray according to 
 
138 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 your own form for Divine direction, and depend upon 
 it you will find it." 
 
 " But supposing," said the missionary, " that I have 
 no such doubts in my mind as to feel any need of 
 Divine direction ; what then ? " 
 
 The man looked at him with amazed disappoint- 
 ment, and evidently giving up the case in despair, 
 said, " Why then, I have nothing more to say to you, 
 and so good-night." 
 
 Pursuing his onward way he found the journey 
 most distressing, storms of rain and hail, alternating 
 with fierce heat, no food to be had for days, and 
 rarely any adequate shelter, and the people un- 
 friendly and inhospitable. All this wrought fearfuj_ 
 havoc with the health of Martyn, for nearly the 
 whole time he was in a raging fever, his head racked 
 with excruciating pain. And yet, in the midst of 
 these miseries he retained a strong faith in God, and 
 a real gratitude to Him for the mercies which he 
 discerned through all these trials. One night, he 
 writes in his journal, how sweet were the words of the 
 Epistle to the Ephesians, which his companion read 
 to him as he lay in bed, and at another time when 
 everything seemed lost and it looked as if the journey 
 could not terminate except fatally, he makes the 
 entry, " 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." More dead than alive he 
 reached Tabriz and found in Sir Gore Ouseley and his 
 excellent lady prompt and hospitable friends. At 
 
ENTERS THE PRESENCE FOR TCVERMOKE. 1 39 
 
 this house of Gains he was thankful to remain for a 
 time, until by careful nursing and attention his health 
 was restored. But he could not disguise from himself 
 the injury such a journey had inflicted upon his 
 already enfeebled frame, and, as once more he took 
 saddle and started upon his thirteen hundred miles to 
 Constantinople, he felt, and his letters home expressed 
 the conviction, that it was unlikely that he should 
 ever live to reach his destination. And yet, he 
 realised a good deal of encouragement from the fact 
 that his visit to Persia had already created a new and 
 unexpected interest in Christianity, and in the midst of 
 persecution and scoffing there were signs that he had 
 not laboured altogether in vain. " The Persians will 
 probably take the lead in the march to Zion," are his 
 words when speaking of the preparations of the way 
 of the kings of the East. 
 
 Again, it must be noted what unlimited faith 
 Martyn had in the Holy Scriptures. His New 
 Testament had been presented by Sir Gore Ouseley 
 to the King while its translator was lying ill. And 
 he felt that the Word of God would no longer be 
 a stranger to the people in their own language. 
 -The promise of its Divine Author was that "My 
 word shall not return unto Me void, but shall 
 accomplish that whereunto I sent it," and Martyn 
 looked confidently for its fulfilment, not within his 
 own fast-ebbing lifetime, but in a future when other 
 witnesses should enter into his field of warfare and, 
 in their time, fight a battle for the Lord. 
 
 When he got well away from Tabriz, the miseries 
 of his last journey began. He had engaged a servant 
 to speak Persian, who proved to know little of that 
 language ; his horses turned out sorry beasts, and the 
 
140 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 heat was intense. At his first halting-place, he had 
 to be content with a stable, and in the next, was 
 crowded with his luggage in a wash-house, but, with 
 these surroundings, he beguiled the nightly hours 
 with repeating a psalm or indulging in silent specula- 
 tions on the eighth conjugation of the Arabic verb. 
 
 Once on his way, he was gladdened with a sight 
 of Ararat lifting its serried peaks high against the 
 blue sky. The sight was rich in suggestions to his 
 mind. 
 
 " 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, outride the storms 
 of life and land at last on one of the everlasting 
 hills." 
 
 Passing onwards, Martyn reached Ech Meazin or 
 the Three Churches, where was an important Arme- 
 nian monastery. Here he was received with hospital- 
 ity, and was greatly interested in conversing with the 
 Bishop Nestus, and, especially, with one of the monks, 
 by name Serafino, who had been educated in Europe, 
 and could speak English, French and Italian. After 
 many pleasant discussions and a solemn introduction 
 to the aged patriarch Ephraim, he took his leave, 
 saying that he had been so happy with them that he 
 could almost be willing to become a monk amongst 
 them. The old man shook his head, remarking 
 that they had quite enough, but who shall say what 
 amount of sincerity was in the young missionary's 
 
REST AT LAST. 
 
 141 
 
ENTERS THE PRESENCE FOR EVERMORE. I43 
 
 wish? Warned that the road was infested by robbers, 
 Martyn recommenced his journey armed with a 
 sword, and his attendants were also similarly provided 
 against attack. After several scares, they arrived at 
 Kars, and pushing on to Erzeroum found themselves 
 in Turkish dominions. It is here that we have the 
 first mention of the Tartar, Hassan Aga, who became, 
 as a tormentor of Henry Martyn, a worthy successor 
 of Sabat. Martyn makes a note of a rumour that 
 has reached him from the front which unconsciously 
 bespeaks his end. 
 
 " From the men who accompanied Sir Gore 
 Ouseley to Constantinople, I learned that the plague 
 was raging in Constantinople, and thousands dying 
 every day. One of the Persians had died of it. They 
 added that the inhabitants of Tokat were flying from 
 their town from the same cause. Thus I am passing 
 inevitably into imminent danger. O Lord, Thy will 
 be done! Living, dying, remember me!" This was 
 written on the ist of October, 18 12, and in less than 
 a fortnight afterwards the will of his Lord was done, 
 and in His kingdom He remembered him, for Henry 
 Martyn was no more. 
 
 The story of these few remaining days is soon 
 told. Fever began again to waste the strength of 
 the emaciated traveller ; sleepless and shaking with 
 ague, he found ere long progress was impossible. 
 The Tartar now in his brute cowardice began to 
 dominate his master, flew into a passion of impatience, 
 and determined to hurry him on. At first Martyn had 
 strength enough to withstand his impetuosity. " He 
 began to storm furiously at my detaining him so long, 
 but I quietly let him spend his ire, ate my breakfast 
 composedly, and set out at eight." But soon Martyn 
 
144 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 was too utterly prostrate to resist, and Hassan, fear- 
 ing now the just punishment of his unfaithfulness and 
 presumption, would not allow even a temporary stop- 
 page at the villages. Once Martyn got off his horse 
 to the ground, and assured this cruel man, " that he 
 neither could nor wQuld go any farther." At last he 
 reached a village, and here, Sergius, his servant, 
 begged for a place where his master might be alone. 
 The plea was really for a place to die in. "Why 
 should he be alone?" was the insulting reply, and he 
 was thrust into a stable, where a huge fire was burn- 
 ing. He implored them either to put out the fire, 
 which made him frantic, or to lay him on the ground 
 outside. " Neither request was attended to ; my ser- 
 vant, 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 amongst the luggage, 
 and lodged it on the damp ground and slept." 
 
 Another day of awful weakness, mercilessly hurried 
 on by Hassan, brought him to Tokat, where on the 
 1 6th of October, 1812, he breathed his last. How or 
 from what cause Martyn died will be for ever 
 unknown. Alone, completely shattered in health, 
 surrounded by friendless servitors, in the walls of a 
 city smitten with pestilence, his soul returned at His 
 summons to its God. All the record we have is a 
 scrap of his writing, penned by a trembling hand 
 just before he passed away. One can hardly read 
 these words save through a mist of tears. 
 
 " No horses being to be had, I had an unexpected 
 V'repose. I sat in the orchard, and thought with sweet 
 comfort and peace of my God, in solitude, my com- 
 pany, my friend and comforter. /J^h, when shall time 
 give place to Eternity ! When shall appear that 
 
ENTERS THE PRESENCE FOR EVERMORE. I45 
 
 new heaven and new earth wherein dwelleth right- 
 eousness ! There, there shall nowise 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." / 
 
 When his friends, lamenting, sought his remains 
 afterwards, it was difficult to discover the place of his 
 interment, although they were told that the Armenians 
 buried him with the honours of an Archbishop ; but it 
 is more likely that his body was thrust into its last p 
 resting-place in haste and disorder, for it was at last 
 found beneath a huge stone, which a stream had left 
 bare. These precious bones were decently re-interred, 
 and Mr. Riel, the British Resident at Bagdad, inscribed 
 over them : — 
 
 "A PIOUS AND FAITHFUL SERVANT, 
 Sacerdos ac Missionarhis Angloricm^ 
 
 CALLED BY THE LORD HIMSELF, AS HE WAS RETURNING 
 • TO HIS FATHERLAND." 1 
 
 Afterwards, an obelisk of native stone was erected 
 on the spot by the East India Company to his 
 memory, bearing the name of Henry Martyn, and in 
 English, Armenian, Persian, and Turkish, declaring 
 that he was, " One who was known in the East as a 
 man of God." 
 
 Standing upon an eminence overlooking the town, 
 this monument of the honoured dead is one of the 
 places which the pilgrim, whose footsteps stray so far 
 on Persian soil, seeks with emotion, and where he 
 lingers long in thinking of that life so well lived, 
 and here laid down. 
 
 K 
 
146 
 
 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 When the news of his death arrived in England, 
 Parliament was discussing the missionary clauses of 
 the East India Company's Charter, and the tidings 
 became the means of opening to India an unrestricted 
 preaching of the Gospel. 
 
 His country mourned his loss, old friends wept at 
 the news of his death, Cambridge grieved over the 
 loss of one of her finest and most honoured sons, and 
 the Church of God was one noble witness less on 
 
 earth, and one more 
 writes his epitaph : — 
 
 ni 
 
 Heaven. Thus Macaulay 
 
 l^ 
 
 i 
 
 " Here Martyn lies. 
 
 The Christian hero 
 Religion, sorrowing 
 
 In manhood's early bloom, 
 finds a Pagan tomb, 
 o'er her favourite son, 
 Points to the glorious trophies that he won. 
 Eternal trophies ! not with carnage red, 
 Not stained with tears, by helpless captives shed. 
 But trophies of the Cross ! for that dear Name, 
 Through every form of danger, death, and shame, 
 Onward he journeyed to a happier shore, 
 Where danger, death, and shame assault no more." 
 
BENARES KKOM THE GANUES. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE MAN HIMSELF. 
 
 \ 
 
 Give me the lowest place : or if for me 
 That lowest, too high, make one more low 
 
 Where I may sit and see 
 
 My God and love Xhee so. — Christina G. Rossetti. 
 
 ALTHOUGH he has been described by an 
 eminent writer, as "the only heroic name 
 which adorns the annals of the Church of 
 England from the days of EHzabeth to our 
 own," it may be safely affirmed that to the multitude 
 of his countrymen Henry Martyn is but little known. 
 This is not because he has lacked able biographers, 
 but the fact is to be accounted for rather by the 
 complex and sometimes contradictory elements of 
 his character. To many, Martyn is a dim, heroic 
 personality, to others a distressful ascetic, to most, 
 a man of remarkable genius allied to an almost 
 fanatic zeal. The endeavour has been made in the 
 preceding pages to tell the story of his life, and at 
 the same time to make the man a living being once 
 more, vivid with human feeling, as well as instinct 
 
 147 
 
148 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 with Divine grace. But to thoroughly grasp the 
 man and the situation, it is necessary to characterise 
 Martyn a little more closely than would be possible 
 without interrupting the continuity of the story. 
 The mind of Martyn and his worthy work having 
 already received careful and discriminative treatment 
 at the hands of eminent writers, it will not perhaps 
 be out of place here to refer to these, especially for 
 the advantage of those readers who are stimulated 
 to pursue further a life history of enthralling interest. 
 Foremost, not only in time, but in value, among 
 Martyn's biographers must be mentioned the name of 
 the Rev. George Sargent, who so far back as 1837 
 wrote his memoir, and edited the journal and letters 
 which to-day are still in the main, the only authority on 
 his life and labours. It is not perhaps generally known 
 that Martyn was on the point of destroying the greater 
 part of his journals before leaving India for Persia, 
 and it was only through the intercession of his friend, 
 the Rev. D. Corrie, that these precious papers were 
 preserved and sealed up to be opened at his death. 
 From the hands of his literary executors, the Rev. 
 Charles Simeon and J. Thornton, Esq., the MSS. 
 passed to the Rev. George Sargent, who was admir- 
 ably qualified for the task of setting them in order, 
 and giving to the public Martyn's history, chiefly as 
 told by himself. The work was done with a loving 
 appreciation of its subject, by one in heartfelt sym- 
 pathy with the Christian standpoint of that evangelical 
 doctrine, which Martyn so earnestly believed and 
 preached. Such a work will always be the Life of 
 Martyn, and every succeeding biographer must be 
 under great obligation to its pages, not only for infor- 
 mation, but for inspiration in striving to arrive at a 
 
THE MAN HIMSELF. I49 
 
 true estimate of Henry Martyn. The latest edition 
 is published by Messrs. Seeley & Co. In the preface 
 to the tenth issue, Mr. Sargent expresses himself 
 as anxious to remove a misconception as to the 
 impression which seems to have got abroad that 
 Martyn was of a gloomy disposition, and lacking 
 in human sympathy. This view, from personal 
 testimony, he clearly disowns and assures us "that 
 Henry Martyn was not less cheerful as a com- 
 panion than he was warm - hearted as a friend." 
 This inaccurate aspect which Mr. Sargent deplores 
 was unquestionably due to readers of the letters and 
 journals taking Martyn at his own estimate, and 
 accepting as literally true those expressions of self- 
 depreciation to which he constantly gave way. 
 It must always be remembered that Henry Martyn 
 did not write with a view to publication, and 
 therefore much of his religious experience found 
 in his correspondence and records, must be viewed 
 from the standpoint of private memoranda. 
 
 After the edition of Journals and Letters edited by 
 the late Bishop Wilberforce (1837), i" which he gives 
 an affectionate memoir of his son-in-law, the Rev. Geo. 
 Sargent, who had passed away, the next reference we 
 have to Martyn is the able article by Sir James 
 Stephen in the Edinbtirgh Revieiv, July, 1844. The 
 writer, in discussing the religious aspect of Martyn's 
 character, thus eloquently sums up : — " Prostrating his 
 soul before the real though the hidden Presence he 
 adored, his doubts were silenced, his anxieties soothed, 
 and every meaner passion hushed into repose. He 
 pursued Divine truth (as all who would succeed in 
 that pursuit must pursue it) by the will rather than 
 the understanding ; by sincerely and earnestly search- 
 
150 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 ing out the light which had come into the world, by- 
 still going after it when perceived, by following its 
 slightest intimations with faith, with resignation, and 
 with constancy, though the path it disclosed led him 
 from the friends and home of his youth, across wide 
 oceans and burning deserts, amid contumely and con- 
 tention, with a wasted frame and overburdened spirit. 
 He rose to the sublime in character, neither by the 
 powers of his intellect nor by the compass of his 
 learning, nor by the subtilty, the range, or the beauty 
 of his conceptions (for in all these he was surpassed by 
 many), but by the copiousness, and by the force of the 
 living fountains by which his spiritual life was nour- 
 ished. Estranged from a world once too fondly loved, 
 his well-tutored heart learned to look back with a calm 
 though affectionate melancholy on its most bitter pri- 
 vations. Insatiable in the thirst for freedom, holiness, 
 and peace, he maintained an ardour of devotion which 
 might pass for an erratic delusion, when contrasted 
 with the Sadducean frigidity of other worshippers. 
 Regarding all the members of the great human family 
 as his kindred in sorrow and in exile, his zeal for 
 their welfare partook more of the fervour of domestic 
 affection than of the kind but gentle warmth of diffu- 
 sive philanthropy. Elevated in his own esteem by 
 the consciousness of an intimate union with the 
 Eternal Source of all virtue, the meek missionary of 
 the Cross exhibited no obscure resemblance to the 
 unobtrusive dignity, the unfaltering purpose, and the 
 indestructible composure of Him by whom the Cross 
 was borne. The ill-disciplined desires of youth, now 
 confined within one deep channel, flowed quickly 
 towards one great consummation ; nor was there any 
 faculty of his soul, or any treasure of his accumulated 
 
THE MAN HIMSELF. I51 
 
 knowlcdi^c, for which appropriate exercise was not 
 found in the hii;h enterprise to which he was 
 devoted." 
 
 One of the most important publications in the 
 hterature of Henry Martyn is the " Life of Mrs. Sher- 
 wood," who had the privilege of much of Martyn's 
 society while at Cawnpore. This book gives a dehght- 
 fuUy simple and life-like picture of her friend, and 
 shows him as being full of tenderness, and rejoicing in 
 the company of children. Here we see Martyn sitting, 
 after much weary work, with Mrs. Sherwood's little 
 daughter (christened by himself Lydia, with deep 
 meaning), on his knee, the child caressing the pale, 
 worn man, who as brightly returned her love. 
 
 We are also led into the personal society of Martyn 
 by the work written by his friend, Dr. Clement Car- 
 lyon, entitled " Early Years and Late Reflections " 
 (1856). Without exhibiting any considerable parti- 
 ality for the zeal and unsparing directness of Martyn's 
 manner of address, he cordially appreciates his friend 
 both as a Christian and as a man of remarkable ability. 
 He says : — " I can answer for his being as brave as 
 he was learned and good. He quailed before no man. 
 Accordingly, we find at their last interview, Sir J. 
 Mackintosh, who doubtless was a man of no ordinary 
 pretensions, found himself drawn into a philological 
 discussion with a stranger, whose mental capacity was 
 commensurate with his own." 
 
 Certainly the best analysis of Martyn's character is 
 that of Sir J. W. Kaye in his " Christianity in India " 
 (1859), a sketch of his life written sympathetically and 
 yet with an impartial discrimination. The following 
 is the estimate which this distinguished writer forms 
 of Henry I\Lirt)n : — 
 
152 
 
 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 "A Strange, sensitive being— a// nerve — was this 
 young Cornish priest. Irritable and impulsive, of 
 varying moods, sometimes sanguine and hilarious, at 
 others despairing and dejected, he was wrenched and 
 torn by gusts of passion, which seemed almost to 
 threaten his very existence. His health was delicate, 
 
 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 and he had overworked himself. He seemed to be 
 always in an extreme state of tension, vibrating to the 
 slightest touch. His soul never rested. Ever alive 
 with emotion, trembling with deep joy or deeper 
 sorrow, with wild hope or profound despair, he should 
 have had the frame of a giant to sustain the shocks of 
 so tempestuous a spirit." 
 
THE MAN HIMSELF. 1 53 
 
 The brilliant authoress of the standard Life of 
 Bishop Pattcson was never more at home than in her 
 sketch of Henry Martyn in " Pioneers and Founders" 
 (1871). lie seems to have been just one of those 
 natures which Miss Yonge would thoroughly compre- 
 hend, and she has truly presented in her only too 
 brief memoir, a life-like and impressive delineation of 
 his character. Martyn's intense spirituality, consum- 
 ing him in a fire of zeal, which, little by Httle, 
 destroyed the earthly tabernacle, until life went out 
 in light, is finely seen in her admirable portraiture. 
 
 In somewhat the same strain, from the High Church 
 point of view, Canon Mason also exhibits Martyn in 
 an article in the ChurcJi Quarterly Revieiv.iox October, 
 1 88 1. This criticises, rather adversely, the Evan- 
 gelical party to which Martyn, through his friend, the 
 Rev. Charles Simeon, attached himself, and attributes, 
 perhaps, not altogether without warrant, much of his 
 melancholy to the particular religious views w^hich he 
 had espoused. Canon Bell, on the other hand, in 
 his admirable little Memoir (1883), treats Henry 
 Martyn from the Evangelical aspect, and gives a 
 devout and sympathetic portraiture of the missionary 
 and the man. 
 
 One of the most valuable and most recent additions 
 to our knowledge of Martyn, is a little work compris- 
 ing two sets of unpublished letters, edited, with pre- 
 fatory remarks, by his grand-nephew, Henry Martyn 
 Jeffery, M.A., F.R.S. He has set out for us the 
 family pedigree of his distinguished relative, and 
 removed the erroneous impression as to his father 
 being a common miner. In speaking of his health 
 and overwork, too, he has had the courage to take an 
 extremely sensible view of " what might have been," 
 
154 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 had this wonderful witness felt the prudent leading of 
 a faithful friend in need. 
 
 " If ever a man," he says, " required the domestic 
 control of a sister or wife, to save him from reckless 
 waste of his own existence, Henry Martyn needed the 
 affectionate curb. He worked in India at the Eastern 
 languages as he had laboured in England as an 
 undergraduate, with utter self-abandonment. . . . 
 His biographer, Sargent, comments on this record 
 with complacent admiration, ' whatever he had to do 
 he did it with all his might ; ' on the other hand, a 
 wife or sister would simply have forbidden self- 
 sacrifice, either by literary toil, by fasting, by exposure 
 to the sun, or by preventible hardships in travel, which 
 were, in fact, the combined causes of his premature 
 death. He could lecture his friend and coadjutor, 
 Corrie, for wasting his health by impetuous zeal, but 
 he was unable to apply his sage counsel to his own 
 shortcomings. Thus it came to pass that Martyn's 
 constitution, congenitally weak, was unprotected, 
 either by himself or others, and he died prematurely, 
 alone and unbefriended by man." 
 
 A flood of light is thrown upon the rather mystify- 
 ing and painfully interesting love episode of Martyn's 
 career, by the recent publication of a volume of 
 Extracts from the Religious Diary of Miss Lydia 
 Grenfell, edited by Mr. Jeffery (1890). The entries of 
 the diary are so entirely of a devotional and personal 
 character, that it is only by carefully reading the pre- 
 face by Mr. Jeffery, that their significant relevancy is 
 established. Very briefly put, the case of Martyn's 
 courtship stands thus. This lady seems to have 
 merited fully Mr. Sargent's encomium, "One of 
 whom less ought not, and more cannot be said, than 
 
THE MAN HIMSELF. 1 55 
 
 that she was worthy of him." Her family was ancient 
 and honourable, having affinity with some of the most 
 eminent writers of our age, such as Professor Max 
 Miillcr, J. Anthony PVoude, Rev. Charles Kingsley, 
 and Lord S. G. Osborne. That Martyn loved Miss 
 Grenfell is evident, but when his proposal for her to 
 go out to him in India was discussed with, and 
 declined by her mother, she yielded to parental 
 authority, almost unaccountably. But the truth was, 
 that years before she had been engaged to another, 
 and although this attachment was speedily at an end, 
 she felt bound to her word while he lived, beincr sub- 
 ject to, as Mr. Jcffcry tersely puts it, "the attach- 
 ment of a widow without the responsibility of a wife." 
 Though this individual married, and unhappily as it 
 turned out, she still held to her vow, and thus to 
 Martyn's heart-break and her own pain the only woman 
 that he loved never became his wife. She proposed 
 to write to him as a sister, and the resumption of 
 correspondence even on this basis seems to have lit 
 up with a sort of moonlight of faded joy the wreck 
 of his heart. She survived him until the i8th of 
 September, 1829, when in turn her life, pious, sincere, 
 and suffering, came to an end. 
 
 Shortly before leaving India for Persia, Martyn 
 had his portrait painted and sent to England, as a 
 gift to his revered friend the Rev. Charles Simeon. 
 This was in turn bequeathed by him to the University 
 of Cambridge, where it still has an honoured place. 
 The face is very youthful, and to our mind, shows 
 little trace of the labour and suffering which even up 
 to that time Martyn had endured. But we have Mr. 
 Simeon's testimony as to the excellency of the por- 
 traiture, and his words in a letter describing his feel- 
 
156 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 ings on looking upon it for the first time, are so 
 pathetic, that we must transcribe an extract here. 
 He had just opened and hung up the picture of his 
 " ever dear and honoured brother," and writes thus to 
 his friend Mr. Thomason : — 
 
 " I had, indeed, after it was opened at the India 
 House, gone to see it there, and, notwithstanding all 
 that you had said respecting it, to prepare my mind, 
 I was so overpowered by the sight, that I could not 
 bear to look upon it ; but turned away and went to a 
 distance, covering my face, and in spite of every effort 
 to the contrary, crying aloud with anguish ; E. was 
 with me and all the bystanders said to her, 'That, 
 I suppose, is his father.' And I think it probable 
 that if I had been his father, or his mother either, 
 I should not have felt more than I did on the occa- 
 sion. Shall I attempt to describe to you the venera- 
 tion and love with which I look at it? No words 
 that I can write will convey an adequate idea ; noth- 
 ing but your own tender mind can exactly conceive 
 what I feel. ... In seeing how much he is worn 
 I am constrained to call to my relief the thought, in 
 zvhose service he has worn himself so much, and this 
 reconciles me to the idea of weakness, of sickness, or 
 even if God were so to appoint, of death itself. As 
 for your abuse of the painter's device to represent 
 India, I do not at all agree with you, it is done as 
 well as I wish it : and the portrait itself cannot 
 I think be excelled. I behold in it all the mind of 
 my honoured brother : and if a thousand guineas 
 had been sent me instead of it, they would really and 
 truly be lighter than the dust upon the balance in 
 comparison of it." 
 
 These words were written just before the tidings 
 
TIIK MAN IIIMSKLF. 157 
 
 came of Marty n's death, and from that time the pic- 
 ture became increasingly precious to Mr. Simeon. 
 
 The Rev. William Carus in an editorial note upon 
 the letters of Mr. Simeon regarding this memorial of 
 his deceased friend, tells us, " Mr. Simeon used to 
 observe of Martyn's picture, whilst looking up at it 
 with affectionate earnestness, as it hung over his fire- 
 place, * There ! — see that blessed man ! What an 
 expression of countenance ! no one looks at me as he 
 does — he never takes his eyes off one ; and seems 
 always to be saying, Be serious — Don't trifle — don't 
 trifle.' Then smiling at the picture and gently bow- 
 ing, he added, ' And I won't trifle — I won't trifle.' " 
 
 Thus from the evidence of those who have deeply 
 studied his life, and in some cases personally known 
 him, Henry Martyn in the foregoing review has 
 been set forth. There is little really to add. Of / 
 the value of his work as a translator of the sacred 
 Word it is impossible for the human mind to gauge 
 its importance and widespreading influence. By his 
 laborious nights and exhausting days of toil, he was 
 able to place portions of the Holy Scriptures within 
 reach and into the language of one-fourth the entire 
 population of the world. His New Testament in 
 Hindi and Hindustani, in Persian, the gospels in 
 Judeo-Persic, and the Prayer-Book in Hindustani are 
 only some of the results of his work in this direc- 
 tion. There is a golden ring about the metal of his 
 allegiance to the Bible, and he who had such faith in 
 the inspired Word, felt it worth while working as he 
 did work to enable his dusky brethren in the East to 
 read it to their salvation. 
 
 We could have wished that in his letters and 
 journals there had been a more joyful experience. 
 
158 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 indicating that he was a happier man. Even in a 
 greater degree do we see this spirit of self-abasement 
 in the diary of the one with whom he fondly and 
 fruitlessly hoped he might enjoy the highest and 
 meetest companionship which God has ordained for 
 man. But in both cases it is more than probable that 
 such expressions of gloomy heart condemnation were 
 the characteristic of their theological school. The 
 sad introspection of Martyn is one of the most 
 pathetic phases of a consecrated life. But of him it 
 may justly be said that he transferred that limitless 
 confidence in self which marks human nature to a 
 perfect faith in his God, which nothing could shake 
 opdiminish. 
 \r^ Martyn, as a forerunner of Missions, was like John 
 / the Baptist in the wilderness, and broke the ground 
 j which has since been so gloriously occupied in the 
 ly name of the Lord. Could he who laid down his life 
 Y in the King's service revisit India and Persia to-day, 
 what fruit of his work would he see ? He would find 
 his translations distributed in thousands by labourers 
 in the field, who, though belonging to different 
 sections of the one great Church of God, are all 
 agreed that the seed of life is the Word of GodTj 
 Since Martyn lived and died, others have followed in 
 his footsteps, have fought the good fight, and are with 
 him crowned to-day. When he laboured, this Gospel 
 light in foreign fields was as a flickering candle blown 
 about amid unfriendly darkness which comprehended 
 it not, now these distant lands are ablaze with the 
 good news of Christ's redemption, and where witnesses 
 of the Cross have yet to take possession, there are 
 hands outstretched for help and brotherhood, and 
 hearts yearning with the cry of Macedon. The saintly 
 
THE MAN HIMSELF. 1 59 
 
 life of usefulness which such men as Martyn led has 
 awakened a new ambition in many hearts, and from 
 the shores of England and America men and women 
 full of the Holy Ghost, with Christ in heart and life, 
 are every year setting off on the Divine commission : 
 " Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to 
 every creature." 
 
 The most superficial glance at the Mission Field of 
 India to-day will disclose the rapid progress which 
 has been made, not only in the propagation of the 
 Gospel, but the permeation of the governing powers 
 with a more genuine Christian sentiment. To India, 
 with its teeming millions, England has given some of 
 her holiest and most useful sons, and through the 
 length and breadth of that deeply interesting land 
 the voice of the Cross is heard. Christian intellects 
 with consecrated zeal following in the steps of 
 Martyn, are grappling successfully with the philoso- 
 phical aspects of the creeds of Buddha and Islam, 
 while others, content with a simple declaration of the 
 salvation of Jesus Christ, are striving earnestly to 
 seek and to save that which was lost. The darkness 
 is still thick over the country, but the Christian 
 Church may thank God and take courage with 
 regard to India, where almost every Missionary Society 
 has its representatives, and has its glorious share of 
 garnered sheaves after faithful toil for the Lord of the 
 harvest. How much of this present success is due to 
 the sacred industry of Martyn in the work of transla- 
 ting the Scriptures into the vernacular, eternity can 
 alone reveal. 
 
 Possibly less is known about the subsequent work 
 in Persia, that country which has a remarkable past 
 associated with our Bible history, but is at present 
 
l60 HENRY MARTYN. 
 
 scarcely emerging from a dark cave of Oriental 
 oppression and superstition. But the seed which 
 Martyn sowed bears fruit, and the translation of the 
 Testament which the Persians so insolently discarded, 
 has opened the door to let in the light of the Gospel. 
 Four years after his death, Fidelia Fiske was born 
 in her quiet New England home, and when she was 
 but a girl at school she drove one night thirty miles 
 through blinding snow to ask her mother whether she 
 might go to Persia and preach the Gospel to the 
 women there. This was the beginning of a Christ- 
 like Mission which is not unworthy to be recorded as 
 a sequence to Henry Martyn's work in that land. 
 He attacked their learned sophists and tore the mask 
 from Mohammedanism, she gathered the wretched 
 girls and mothers around her, and told the story of 
 the love of Jesus until the revival at Oroomiah was 
 like a Pentecost. Her work, and that of her 
 coadjutors, has been followed up by her countrymen, 
 and for fifty years the American Missionaries have 
 worked hard in this field. The English Societies are 
 also doing good service, and the letters from the front 
 which are from time to time received, speak of 
 victories for the Cross in the very places which, when 
 Martyn passed through, were immersed in Christless 
 gloom. 
 
 But the Church of God will never forgot the one 
 who, loyal to his Master, bore the brunt of the battle 
 like a good soldier of Christ, counting all things as 
 nothing to win the fight, and from his dying hand 
 others have grasped the banner, and will in a grand 
 succession of service and martyrdom pursue the 
 Divine quest of souls till He come. 
 
 S. W. I'AKTKIDGE AND CO., Q PATKKNUSTER KOW, LONDON. 
 
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