THE NINE MONTHS' VOYAGE--SOUTH AMERICA--SOUTH AFRICA, 1805-1806
The East India fleet had been detained off Ireland 'for fear of
immediate invasion, in which case the ships might be of use.' The
young chaplain was kept busy enough in his own and the other vessels.
In one of these, the Ann, there was a mutiny. Another, the Pitt, was a
Botany Bay ship, carrying out 120 female convicts. Thanks to Charles
Simeon, he was able to supply all with Bibles and religious books. But
even on board his own transport, the Union, the captain would allow
only one service on the Sabbath, and denied permission to preach to
the convicts. The chaplain's ministrations between decks were
continued daily, amid the indifference and even opposition of all save
a few.
At last, on August 31, 1805, the Indiamen of the season and fifty
transports sailed out of the Cove of Cork under convoy of the Diadem,
64 guns, the Belliqueuse, 64 guns, the Leda and Narcissus frigates, on
a voyage which, after two months since lifting the anchor at
Portsmouth, lasted eight and a half months to Calcutta. The Union had
H.M. 59th Regiment on board. Of its officers and men, and of the East
India Company's cadets and the officers commanding them, he succeeded
in inducing only five to join him in daily worship. His own presence
and this little gathering caused the vessel to be known in the fleet
as 'the praying ship.' The captain died during the voyage to the Cape.
One of the ships was wrecked, the Union narrowly escaping the same
fate. Martyn's _Journal_ reveals an amount of hostility to himself and
of open scoffing at his message which would be impossible now. He fed
his spirit with the Word of God, which he loved to expound to others.
Leighton, especially the too little known _Rules for Holy Living_, was
ever in his hands. Augustine and Ambrose delighted him, also Hooker,
Baxter, Jonathan Edwards, and Flavel, which he read to any who would
listen, while he spoke much to the Mohammedan Lascars. He worked hard
at Hindustani, Bengali, and Portuguese. Not more faithfully reflected
in his _Journal_ than the tedium of the voyage and the often
blasphemous opposition of his fellows are, all unconsciously, his own
splendid courage, his untiring faithfulness even when down with
dysentery and cough, his watchful prayerfulness, his longing for the
spread of Christ's kingdom. As the solitary young saint paced the deck
his thoughts, too, were with the past--with Lydia, in a way which,
even he felt, did not leave him indisposed for communion with God.
From Funchal, Madeira, he wrote to Lydia's sister: 'God knows how
dearly I love you, and Lydia and Sally (his younger sister), and all
His saints in England, yet I bid you all an everlasting farewell
almost without a sigh.' His motto throughout the voyage was the
sentence in which Milner characterises the first Christians:
'TO BELIEVE, TO SUFFER, AND TO LOVE.'
Meanwhile Lydia Grenfell was thus committing to her _Diary_ these
melancholy longings:
_November 22._--Yesterday brought me most pleasing intelligence
from my dear friend, for which I have and do thank Thee, O Lord
my God. He assures us of his being well, and exceedingly
happy--oh, may he continue so. I have discovered that insensibly
I have indulged the hope of his return, which this letter has
seemed to lessen. I see it is my duty to familiarise my mind to
the idea of our separation being for ever, with what feelings
the thought is admitted, the Lord--whose will I desire therein
to be done--only knows, and I find it a blessed relief to look
to Him for comfort. I can bear testimony to this, that the Lord
does afford me the needful support. I have been favoured much
within this day or two, and seem, if I may trust to present
feelings, to be inspired to ask the Lord's sovereign will and
pleasure concerning me and him. I look forward to our meeting
only in another state of existence, and oh, how pure, how
exalted will be our affection then! here it is mixed with much
evil, many pains, and great anxieties. Hasten, O Lord, Thy
coming, and fit me for it and for the society of Thy saints in
light. I desire more holiness, more of Christ in my soul, more
of His likeness. Oh, to be filled with all Thy fulness, to be
swallowed up in Thee!
_November 23._--Too much has my mind been occupied to-day with a
subject which must for ever interest me. O Lord, have mercy on
me! help can only come from Thee. Let Thy blessed Word afford me
relief; let the aids of Thy Spirit be vouchsafed. Restore to me
the joys of Thy salvation.
_November 24._--Passed a night of little sleep, my mind
restless, confused, and unhappy. In vain did I endeavour to fix
my thoughts on spiritual things, and to drive away those
distressing fears of what may befall my dear friend. Blessed for
ever be the Lord that on approaching His mercy-seat, through the
blood of Jesus, I found peace, rest, and an ability to rely on
God for all things. I have through the day enjoyed a sense of
the Divine presence, and a blessed nearness to the Lord.
To-night I am favoured with a sweet calmness; I seem to have no
desire to exert myself. O Lord, animate, refresh my fainting
soul. I see how dangerous it is to admit any worldly object into
the heart, and how prone mine is to idolatry, for whatever has
the preference, that to God is an idol. Alas! my thoughts, my
first and last thoughts, are now such as prove that God cannot
be said to have the supreme place in my affections; yet, blessed
be His name, I can resign myself and all my concerns to His
disposal, and this is my heart's desire. Thy will be done.
_December 11._--I seem reconciled to all before me, and consider
the Lord must have some great and wise purposes to answer by
suffering my affections to be engaged in the degree they are. If
it is only to exercise my submission to His will, and to make me
more acquainted with His power to support and comfort me, it
will be a great end answered, and oh, may I welcome all He
appoints for this purpose. The mysteries of Providence are
unfathomable. The event must disclose them, and in this I desire
to make up my mind from henceforth no more to encourage the
least expectation of meeting my dear friend in this world. O
Lord, when the desire is so strong, how impossible is it for me
to do this; but Thou art able to strengthen me for it. Oh,
vouchsafe the needful help.
_December 16._--I have had many distressing feelings to-day, and
struggled with my heart, which is at times rent, I may say, by
the reflection that I have bidden adieu for ever in this life to
so dear a friend; but the blessed employment the Lord has
assisted me in, and the thought that he is serving my blessed
Lord Jesus, is most consolatory. Oh, may I never more seek to
draw him back from the work. Lord, Thou knowest all things, Thou
knowest that I would not do this.
_December 26._--Went early to St. Hilary, where I had an
opportunity of reading the excellent prayers of our Church. I
have been blest with sweet peace to-day--a solemn expectation of
entering eternity. I feel a sadness of spirit at times (attended
with a calm resignation of mind, not unpleasing) at the
remembrance of my friend, whom I expect no more to see till we
meet in heaven. Oh, blessed hope that there we shall meet! Lord,
keep us each in the narrow way that leads to Thee.
_December 31._--The last in 1805--oh, may it prove the most holy
to my soul. I am shut out from the communion of Thy saints in a
measure; oh, let me enjoy more communion with my God. Thou
knowest my secret sorrows, yea, Thou dost calm them by causing
me to have regard to a future life of bliss with Thee, when I
shall see and adore the wisdom of Thy dealings with me. Oh, my
idolatrous heart!
These passages occur in Henry Martyn's _Journal_:
_December 4._--Dearest Lydia! never wilt thou cease to be dear
to me; still, the glory of God, and the salvation of immortal
souls, is an object for which I can part with thee. Let us live
then for God, separate from one another, since such is His holy
will. Hereafter we shall meet in a happier region, and if we
shall have lived and died, denying ourselves for God, triumphant
and glorious will our meeting be....
_December 5._--My mind has been running on Lydia, and the happy
scenes in England, very much; particularly on that day when I
walked with her on the sea-shore, and with a wistful eye looked
over the blue waves that were to bear me from her. While walking
the deck I longed to be left alone, that my thoughts might run
at random. Tender feelings on distant scenes do not leave me
indisposed for communion with God; that which is present to the
outward senses is the greatest plague to me. Went among the
soldiers in the afternoon, distributing oranges to those who are
scorbutic. My heart was for some hours expanding with joy and
love; but I have reason to think that the state of the body has
great influence on the frames and feelings of the mind. Let the
rock of my consolations be not a variable feeling, but Jesus
Christ and His righteousness.
The fleet next touched at San Salvador, or Bahia, from which Henry
Martyn wrote to Mrs. Hitchins, his cousin, asking her to send him by
Corrie, who was coming out as chaplain, 'your profile and Cousin Tom's
and Lydia's. If she should consent to it, I should much wish for her
miniature.' The request, when it reached her, must have led to such
passages in her _Diary_ as these:
_1806, February 8._--I have passed some days of pain and
weakness, but now am blessed again with health. During the whole
of this sickness I was afflicted with much deadness of soul, and
have had very few thoughts of God. I felt, as strength returned,
the necessity of more earnest supplications for grace and
spiritual life. I have ascertained this sad truth, that my soul
has declined in spiritual fervour and liveliness since I have
admitted an earthly object so much into my heart. Ah! I know I
have not power to recall my affections, but God can, and I
believe He will, enable me to regulate them better. This thought
has been of great injury to me, as I felt no murmuring at the
will of God, nor disposed to act therein contrary to His will. I
thought I might indulge secretly my affection, but it has been
of vast disadvantage to me. I am now convinced, and I do humbly
(relying on strength from on high) resolve no more to yield to
it. Oh, may my conversation be in heaven, and the glories of
Immanuel be all my theme.
_February 15._--I have been much exercised yesterday and
to-day--walking in darkness, without light--and I feel the truth
of this Scripture: 'Your sins have separated between you and
your God.' I have betrayed a most unbecoming impatience and
warmth of temper. My dear absent friend, too, has been much in
my mind. How many times have I endured the pain of bidding him
farewell! I would not dare repine. I doubt not for a moment the
necessity of its being as it is, but the feelings of my mind at
particular seasons overwhelm me. My refuge is to consider it is
the will of God. Thy will, my God, be done.
Henry Martyn did not lose a day in discharging his mission to the
residents and slaves of that part of the coast of Brazil, in the great
commercial city and seat of the metropolitan. His was the first voice
to proclaim the pure Gospel in South America since, three hundred
years before, Coligny's and Calvin's missionaries had been there
silenced by Villegagnon, and put to death. Martyn was frequently
ashore, almost fascinated by the tropical glories of the coast and the
interior, and keenly interested in the Portuguese dons, the Franciscan
friars, and the negro slaves. After his first walk through the town to
the suburbs, he was looking for a wood in which he might rest, when he
found himself at a magnificent porch leading to a noble avenue and
house. There he was received with exuberant hospitality by the Corrè
family, especially by the young Señor Antonio, who had received a
University training in Portugal, and soon learned to enjoy the society
of the Cambridge clergyman. In his visits of days to this family, his
exploration of the immediate interior and the plantations of tapioca
and pepper, introduced from Batavia, and his discussions with its
members and the priests on Roman Catholicism, all conducted in French
and Latin, a fortnight passed rapidly. He was ever about his Master's
business, able in speaking His message to men and in prayer and
meditation. 'In a cool and shady part of the garden, near some water,
I sat and sang,
O'er the gloomy hills of darkness.
I could read and pray aloud, as there was no fear of anyone understanding
me. Reading the eighty-fourth Psalm,
O how amiable are Thy tabernacles,
this morning in the shade, the day when I read it last under the trees
with Lydia was brought forcibly to my remembrance, and produced some
degree of melancholy.' Refreshed by the hospitality of San Salvador,
he resumed the voyage with new zeal for his Lord and for his study of
such authorities as Orme's _Indostan_ and Scott's _Dekkan_, and thus
taking himself to task: 'I wish I had a deeper conviction of the
sinfulness of sloth.'
Thus had he taken possession of Brazil, of South America, for Christ.
As he walked through the streets, where for a long time he 'saw no one
but negro slaves male and female'; as he passed churches in which
'they were performing Mass,' and priests of all colours innumerable,
and ascended the battery which commanded a view of the whole bay of
All Saints, he exclaimed, 'What happy missionary shall be sent to bear
the name of Christ to these western regions? When shall this beautiful
country be delivered from idolatry and spurious Christianity? Crosses
there are in abundance, but when shall the doctrine of the Cross be
held up?' In the nearly ninety years that have gone since that time,
Brazil has ceased to belong to the house of Braganza, slavery has been
abolished, the agents of the Evangelical churches and societies of the
United States of America and the Bible societies have been sent in
answer to his prayer; while down in the far south Captain Allen
Gardiner, R.N., by his death for the savage people, has brought about
results that extorted the admiration of Dr. Darwin. As Martyn went back
to the ship for the last time, after a final discussion on Mariolatry
with the Franciscans, rowed by Lascars who kept the feast of the Hijra
with hymns to Mohammed, and in converse with a fellow-voyager who
declared mankind needed to be told nothing but to be sober and honest,
he cried to God with a deep sigh 'to interfere in behalf of His Gospel;
for in the course of one hour I had seen three shocking examples of the
reign and power of the devil in the form of Popish and Mohammedan
delusion and that of the natural man. I felt, however, in no way
discouraged, but only saw the necessity of dependence on God.'
Why did Henry Martyn's preaching and daily pastoral influence excite
so much opposition? Undoubtedly, as we shall see, both in Calcutta and
Dinapore, his Cornish-Celtic temperament, possibly the irritability
due to the disease under which he was even then suffering, disabled
him from disarming opposition, as his friend Corrie, for instance,
afterwards always did. But we must remember to whom he preached and
what he preached, and the time at which he preached, in the history
not only of the Church of England, but of Evangelical religion. He had
himself been brought out of spiritual darkness under the influence of
Kempthorne and Charles Simeon, by the teaching of Paul in his letters
to the Roman and the Galatian converts. To him sin was exceeding
sinful. The Pauline doctrine of sin and its one remedy was the basis
not only of his theology, but of his personal experience and daily
life. After a brief ministry to the villagers of Lolworth and
occasional sermons to his fellow students in Cambridge, this Senior
Wrangler and Classic, yet young convert, was put in spiritual charge
of a British regiment and Indiaman's crew, and was the only chaplain
in a force of eight thousand soldiers, some with families, and many
female convicts. At a time when the dead churches were only beginning
to wake up, after the missions of the Wesleys and Whitfield, of
William Carey and Simeon, this youthful prophet was called to reason
of temperance, righteousness, and judgment to come, with men who were
practically as pagan or as sceptical as Felix.
His second address at sea, on September 15, was from Paul's sermon in
the synagogue of Antioch in Pisidia (Acts xiii. 38-39): _Through this
man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins, &c._[16] It was a
full and free declaration of God's love in Jesus Christ to sinful man,
which he thus describes in his _Journal_: 'In the latter part I was
led to speak without preparation on the all-sufficiency of Christ to
save sinners who came to Him with all their sins without delay. I was
carried away with a Divine aid to speak with freedom and energy. My
soul was refreshed, and I retired seeing reason to be thankful!' But
the next week's experience resulted in this: 'I was more tried by the
fear of man than I have ever been since God called me to the ministry.
The threats and opposition of those men made me unwilling to set
before them the truths which they hated; yet I had no species of
hesitation about doing it. They had let me know that if I would preach
a sermon like one of Blair's they should be glad to hear it; but they
would not attend if so much of hell was preached.' Strengthened by our
Lord's promise of the Comforter (John xiv. 16), he next Sunday took
for his text Psalm ix. 17: _The wicked shall be turned into hell, and
all the nations that forget God._ He thus concluded:
Pause awhile, and reflect! Some of you, perhaps, by this time,
instead of making a wise resolve, have begun to wonder that so
heavy a judgment should be denounced merely against
forgetfulness. But look at the affairs of common life, and be
taught by them. Do not neglect, and want of attention, and not
looking about us to see what we have to do--do not any of these
bring upon us consequences as ruinous to our worldly business as
any ACTIVE misbehaviour? It is an event of every day, that a
man, by mere laziness and inattention to his business, does as
certainly bring himself and family to poverty, and end his days
in a gaol, as if he were, in wanton mischief, to set fire to his
own house. So it is also with the affairs of the soul: neglect
of that--forgetfulness of God, who only can save it--will work
his ruin, as surely as a long and daring course of profligate
wickedness.
When any one has been recollecting the proper proofs of a future
state of rewards and punishments, nothing, methinks, can give
him so sensible an apprehension of punishment or such a
representation of it to the mind, as observing that, after the
many disregarded checks, admonitions, and warnings which people
meet with in the ways of vice, folly, and extravagance warnings
from their very nature, from the examples of others, from the
lesser inconveniences which they bring upon themselves, from the
instructions of wise and good men--after these have been long
despised, scorned, ridiculed--after the chief bad consequences
(temporal consequences) of their follies have been delayed for a
great while, at length they break in irresistibly like an armed
force: repentance is too late to relieve, and can serve only to
aggravate their distress: the case is become desperate; and
poverty and sickness, remorse and anguish, infamy and death, the
effects of their own doings, overwhelm them beyond possibility
of remedy or escape. This is an account of what is, in fact, the
general constitution of Nature.
But is the forgetfulness of God so light a matter? Think what
ingratitude, rebellion, and atheism there is at the bottom of
it! Sirs, you have 'a carnal mind, which is enmity against God.'
(Rom. viii. 7.) Do not suppose that you have but to make a
slight effort, and you will cease to forget Him: it is your
nature to forget Him: it is your nature to hate Him: so that
nothing less than an entire change of heart and nature will ever
deliver you from this state of enmity. Our nature 'is not
subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. They that are
in the flesh cannot please God.' (Rom. viii. 7, 8.) From this
state let the fearful menace in the text persuade you to arise!
Need we remind you again of the dreadfulness of hell--of the
certainty that it shall overtake the impenitent sinner? Enough
has been said; and can any of you be still so hardened, and such
enemies to your souls, as still to cleave to sin? Will you still
venture to continue any more in the hazard of falling into the
hands of God? Alas! 'Who among us shall dwell with the devouring
fire? Who among us shall dwell with everlasting burnings?' (Isa.
xxxiii. 14.) 'Can thine heart endure, or can thine hands be
strong, in the days that I shall deal with thee? I the Lord have
spoken it, and will do it!' (Ezek. xxii. 14.) Observe, that men
have dealt with sinners--ministers have dealt with
them--apostles, prophets, and angels have dealt with them: at
last, God will take them in hand, and deal with them! Though not
so daring as to defy God, yet, brethren, in all probability you
put on repentance. Will you securely walk a little longer along
the brink of the burning furnace of the Almighty's fury? 'As the
Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, there is but a step between
thee and death!' (1 Sam. xx. 3.) When you lie down you know not
but you may be in it before the morning; and when you rise you
know not but God may say, 'Thou fool, this night thy soul shall
be required of thee!' When once the word is given to cut you
down, the business is over. You are cut off from your lying
refuges and beloved sins--from the world--from your
friends--from the light--from happiness--from hope, for ever! Be
wise, then, my friends, and reasonable: give neither sleep to
your eyes, nor slumber to your eyelids, till you have resolved,
on your knees before God, to forget Him no more. Go home and
pray. Do not dare to fly, as it were, in the face of your Maker,
by seeking your pleasure on His holy day; but if you are alarmed
at this subject, as well you may be, go and pray to God that you
may forget Him no more. It is high time to awake out of sleep.
It is high time to have done with hesitation: time does not wait
for you; nor will God wait till you are pleased to turn. He hath
bent His bow, and made it ready: halt no more between two
opinions: hasten--tarry not in all the plain, but flee from the
wrath to come. Pray for grace, without which you can do nothing.
Pray for the knowledge of Christ, and of your own danger and
helplessness, without which you cannot know what it is to find
refuge in Him. It is not our design to terrify, without pointing
out the means of safety. Let us then observe, that if it should
have pleased God to awaken any of you to a sense of your danger,
you should beware of betaking yourselves to a refuge of lies.
But, through the mercy of God, many among us have found
repentance unto life--have fled for refuge to the hope set
before them--have seen their danger, and fled to Christ. Think
with yourselves what it is now to have escaped destruction; what
it will be to hear at the last day our acquittal, when it shall
be said to others, 'Depart from Me, ye cursed, into everlasting
fire.' Let the sense of the mercy of God gild all the path of
life. On the other hand, since it is they who forget God that
are to bear the weight of His wrath, let us beware, brethren,
how we forget Him, through concern about this world, or through
unbelief, or through sloth. Let us be punctual in all our
engagements with Him. With earnest attention and holy awe ought
we to hear His voice, cherish the sense of His presence, and
perform the duties of His worship. No covenant relation or
Gospel grace can render Him less holy, less jealous, or less
majestic. 'Wherefore let us have grace, whereby we may serve God
acceptably, with reverence and godly fear; for our God is a
consuming fire.'
The officers had seated themselves behind the preacher, that they
might retire in case of dislike, and one of them employed himself in
feeding the geese; so it had happened in the case of the missionary
Paul, and Martyn wrote: 'God, I trust, blessed the sermon to the good
of many. Some of the cadets and soldiers were in tears.' The
complement[17] of this truth he soon after displayed to them in his
sermon on the message through Ezekiel xxxiii. 11. _As I live, saith
the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked._
Men have been found in all ages who have vented their murmurs
against God for the severity of His final punishment, as well as
for the painful continuance of His judgments upon them in this
life, saying, 'If our state be so full of guilt and misery as is
represented, and God is determined to avenge Himself upon us, be
it so; then we must take the consequences.' If God were to reply
to this impious complaint only by silence; if He were to suffer
the gloom of their hearts to thicken into tenfold darkness, and
give them up to their own malignity, till they died victims to
their own impiety and despair, the Lord would still be
righteous, they would then only eat of the fruit of their
doings. But, behold, the Lord gives a very unexpected message,
with which He bids us to follow men, to interrupt their sad
soliloquies, to stop their murmurs. 'Say unto them,' saith He,
'As I live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death
of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live.
Turn ye, turn ye, from your evil ways; for why will ye die?'
Behold the inseparable connexion--we must turn, or die. Here
there is a question put by God to sinners. Let sinners then
answer the question which God puts to them,--'Why will ye die?'
Is death a motive not strong enough to induce you to forego a
momentary pleasure? Is it a light thing to fall into the hands
of the living God? Is a life of godliness so very intolerable as
not to be repaid by heavenly glory? Turn ye at His reproof--'Why
will ye die?' Is it because there is no hope? God has this very
hour testified with an oath that it is His desire to save you.
Yea, He at this moment expostulates with you and beseeches you
to seek Him. 'Why will ye die?' You know not why. If, then, you
are constrained--now accustomed as you are to
self-vindication--to acknowledge your unreasonableness, how much
more will you be speechless in the last day when madness will
admit of no palliation, and folly will appear without disguise!
Are any returned to God? Do any believe they are really
returned?--then here they have consolation. It is a long time
before we lose our slavish dread of God, for our natural
prejudices and mistakes become inveterate by habit, and Satan
opposes the removal of them. But come now, and let us reason
together. Will ye also dishonour your God by accounting Him more
willing to destroy than to save you? _Will_ ye think hardly of
God? Oh, that I had been able to describe as it deserves, His
willingness to save! Oh, that I could have borrowed the pen of a
seraph, and dipped it in a fount of light! Could plainer words
be needed to describe the wonders of His love? Hearken, my
beloved brethren! Hath He no pleasure in the death of the
wicked, and will He take pleasure in yours? Hath He promised
His love, His tenderness to those who turn from their wicked
ways, and yet, when they are turned, straightway forgot His
promise? Harbour no more fearful, unbelieving thoughts. But the
reply is often that the fear is not of God, but of myself, lest
I have not turned away from my evil ways. But this point may
surely be ascertained, brethren; and if it may, any further
refinements on this subject are derogatory to God's honour. Let
these words convince you that, if you are willing to be saved in
His way, He is willing to save you. It may be you will still be
kept in darkness, but darkness is not always the frown of God;
it is only Himself--thy shade on thy right hand. Then tremble
not at the hand that wipes away thy tears; judge Him not by
feeble sense, but follow Him, though He lead thee by a way that
thou knewest not.
There are some of you who have reason to hope that you have
turned from the error of your ways. Ye have tasted that the Lord
is gracious. It is but a taste, a foretaste, an antepast of the
feast of heaven. It was His pleasure that you should turn from
your ways; it is also His good pleasure to give you the kingdom.
Then what shall we recommend to you, but gratitude, admiration,
and praise? 'Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem; praise thy God, O
Zion.' Let each of us abundantly utter the memory of His great
goodness, and sing aloud of His righteousness. Let each say,
'Awake, lute and harp; I myself will awake right early.' Let us
join the chorus of angels, and all the redeemed, in praising the
riches of His love in His kindness towards us through Christ
Jesus.
As the fleet sailed from San Salvador, the captains were summoned to the
commodore, to learn that Cape Town and the Dutch settlement formed the
object of the expedition, and that stout resistance was expected. This
gave new zeal to the chaplain, were that possible, in his dealings with
the officers and men of his Majesty's 59th, and with the cadets, to whom
he taught mathematics in his unrewarded friendliness. Many were down
with dysentery, then and long a peculiarly fatal disease till the use of
ipecacuanha. His constant service made him also for some time a
sufferer.
_1805, December 29._ (Sunday.)--My beloved spake and said unto
me, Rise up, &c. (Cant. ii. 10, 11). Ah! why cannot I rise and
go forth and meet my Lord? Every hindrance is removed: the wrath
of God, the guilt of sin, and severity of affliction; there is
nothing now in the world that has any strong hold of my
affections. Separated from my friends and country for ever in
this life, I have nothing to distract me from hearing the voice
of my beloved, and coming away from this world and walking with
Him in love, amidst the flowers that perfume the air of
Paradise, and the harmony of the happy spirits who are singing
His praise. But alas! my heart is cold and slothful. Preached on
2 Peter iii. 11, taking notice at the end of these remarkable
circumstances, that made the text particularly applicable to us.
It was the last Sabbath of a year, which had been memorable to
us from our having left our country, and passed through many
dangers. Secondly, within a few days they were to meet an enemy
on the field of battle. Thirdly, the death of the captain. I was
enabled to be self-collected, and in some degree tender. There
was a great impression; many were in tears. Visited and
conversed with Mr. M. twice to-day, and marked some passages for
him to read. His heart seems tender. There was a considerable
number on the orlop in the afternoon. Expounded Matt. xix. and
prayed. In the evening Major Davidson and M'Kenzie came to my
cabin, and stayed nearly three hours. I read Romans vi. and
vii., and explained those difficult chapters as well as I
could, so that the Major, I hope, received a greater insight
into them; afterwards I prayed with them. But my own soul after
these ministrations seemed to have received harm rather than
good. It was an awful reflection that Judas was a preacher,
perhaps a successful one. Oh, let my soul tremble, lest, after
preaching to others, I myself should be a castaway.
_1806. January 4._--Continued to approach the land; about sunset
the fleet came to an anchor between Robben Island and the land
on that side, farthest from Cape Town, and a signal was
immediately given for the 59th Regiment to prepare to land. Our
men were soon ready, and received thirty-six rounds of ball
cartridge; before the three boats were lowered down and fitted,
it was two in the morning. I stayed up to see them off; it was a
melancholy scene; the privates were keeping up their spirits by
affecting to joke about the approach of danger, and the ladies
sitting in the cold night upon the grating of the after-hatchway
overwhelmed with grief; the cadets, with M'Kenzie, who is one of
their officers, all went on board the Duchess of Gordon, the
general rendezvous of the company's troops. I could get to speak
to none of my people, but Corporals B. and B. I said to Sergeant
G., 'It is now high time to be decided in religion,' he replied
with a sigh; to Captain S. and the cadets I endeavoured to speak
in a general way. I this day signed my name as a witness to
Captain O.'s and Major Davidson's wills; Captain O. left his
with me; I passed my time at intervals in writing for to-morrow.
The interest I felt in the outward scene distracted me very much
from the things which are not seen, and all I could do in prayer
was to strive against this spirit. But with what horror should I
reflect on the motions of sins within me, which tempted me to
wish for bloodshed, as something gratifying by its sublimity. My
spirit would be overwhelmed by such a consciousness of
depravity, but that I can pray still deliberately against sin;
and often the Lord manifested His power by making the same
sinful soul to feel a longing desire that the blessed gospel of
peace might soothe the spirits of men, and make them all live
together in harmony and love. Yet the principle within me may
well fill me with shame and sorrow.
Since, on April 9, 1652, Johan Anthonie van Riebeck by proclamation
took formal possession of the Cape for the Netherlands East India
Company, 'providing that the natives should be kindly treated,'[18]
the Dutch had governed South Africa for nearly a century and a half.
The natives had been outraged by the Boers, the Moravian missionaries
had departed, the colony had been starved, and yet denied the
rudiments of autonomy. The French Revolution changed all that, and
very much else. The Stadtholder of the United Provinces having allied
himself with Great Britain, Dumouriez entered Holland, and Pichegru
marched the armies of France over its frozen waters in the terrible
winter of 1794-5. To protect the trade with India from the French,
Admiral Elphinstone thereupon took possession of the Cape, which was
administered successively by General J.H. Craig, the Earl of
Macartney, Sir George Young, and Sir Francis Dundas, for seven
prosperous years, until the Treaty of Amiens restored it to the
Batavian Republic in February 1803. It was then a territory of 120,000
square miles, reaching from the Cape to a curved line which extended
from the mouth of the Buffalo River in Little Namaqualand to the
present village of Colesberg. The Great Fish River was the eastern
boundary. Now the Christian colonies and settlements of South Africa,
enjoying British sovereignty and largely under self-governing
institutions, stretch north from the sea, and east and west from ocean
to ocean, to the great river Zambesi--the base from which Christian
civilisation, by missions and chartered companies, is slowly
penetrating the explored wilds of Central Africa up the lake region to
the Soudan and Ethiopia.
This less than a century's progress has been made possible by the
expedition of 1806, in which Henry Martyn, almost alone, represented
Christianity. After the three years' respite given by the virtual
armistice of Amiens, Napoleon Bonaparte again plunged Europe and the
world into war. William Pitt's last government sent out this naval
armament under Sir Home Popham. The 5,000 troops were commanded by Sir
David Baird, who had fought and suffered in India when the senior of
the future Duke of Wellington. Henry Martyn has told us how the
squadron of the sixty-three sail had anchored between Robben Island
and the coast. The Dutch Governor, General Jan Willen Janssens, was
more worthy of his trust than his predecessor ten years before. He had
been compelled to send on a large portion of his force for the defence
of Java, soon to fall to Lord Minto, the Governor-General, and had
only 2,000 troops left. He had received only a fortnight's notice of
the approach of the British fleet, which was reported by an American
vessel. He drilled the colonists, he called French marines to his aid,
he organised Malay artillery, he embodied even Hottentot sepoys, and
made a reserve and refuge of Hottentot's Holland, from which he hoped
to starve Cape Town, should Baird capture it. Both armies were equal
in numbers at least.
All was in vain. On January 8 was fought the battle of Blaauwberg (on
the side of Table Bay opposite Cape Town), from the plateau of which
the Dutch, having stood the musketry and field pieces, fled at the
charge of the bayonet with a loss of 700 men. The British, having
dropped 212, marched on Cape Town, halted at Papendorp, and there, on
January 10, 1806, were signed the articles of capitulation which have
ever since given the Roman-Dutch law to the colony. Sir David Baird
and Sir Home Popham soon after received the surrender of Janssens,
whose troops were granted all the honours of war in consideration of
their gallant conduct. At the Congress of Vienna in 1815 Lord
Castlereagh sacrificed Java to the Dutch, but kept South Africa for
Great Britain. The surrender of the former, in the midst of the
splendid successes of Sir Stamford Raffles, is ascribed to that
minister's ignorance of geography. He knew equally little of the Cape,
which he kept, beyond its importance to India, but God has overruled
all that for the good of Equatorial, as well as South, Africa, as,
thanks to David Livingstone, vacillating statesmen have begun to see.
Henry Martyn's _Journal_ thus describes the battle and the battlefield.
_1806, January._--Ten o'clock. When I got up, the army had left
the shore, except the Company's troops, who remained to guard
the landing-place; but soon after seven a most tremendous fire
of artillery began behind a mountain abreast of the ship; it
seemed as if the mountain itself were torn by intestine
convulsions. The smoke rose from a lesser eminence on the right
of the hill, and on the top of it troops were seen rushing down
the farther declivity; then came such a long drawn fire of
musketry, that I could not have conceived anything like it. We
all shuddered at considering what a multitude of souls must be
passing into eternity. The poor ladies were in a dreadful
condition, every peal seemed to go through their hearts; I have
just been endeavouring to do what I can to keep up their
spirits. The sound is now retiring, and the enemy are seen
retreating along the low ground on the right towards the town.
Soon after writing this I went ashore and saw M'K., &c., and
Cecil, with whom I had an agreeable conversation on Divine
things. The cadets of our ship had erected a little shed made of
bushes and straw, and here, at their desire, I partook of their
cheer. Three Highlanders came to the lines just as I arrived,
all wounded in the hand. In consequence of their report of the
number of the wounded, a party of East India troops, with slings
and barrows, attended by a body of cadets with arms, under Major
Lumsden, were ordered to march to the field of battle.
I attached myself to these, and marched six miles through the
soft burning sand with them. The first we came to was a
Highlander, who had been shot through the thigh, and had walked
some way from the field and lay spent under some bushes. He was
taken care of and we went on, and passed the whole of the larger
hill without seeing anything. The ground then opened into a most
extensive plain, which extended from the sea to the blue
mountains at a great distance on the east. On the right was the
little hill, to which we were attracted by seeing some English
soldiers; we found that they were some wounded men of the 24th.
They had all been taken care of by the surgeons of the Staff.
Three were mortally wounded. One, who was shot through the
lungs, was spitting blood, and yet very sensible. The surgeon
desired me to spread a great-coat over him as they left him; as
I did this, I talked to him a little of the blessed Gospel, and
begged him to cry for mercy through Jesus Christ. The poor man
feebly turned his head in some surprise, but took no further
notice. I was sorry to be obliged to leave him and go on after
the troops, from whom I was not allowed to be absent, out of a
regard to my safety. On the top of the little hill lay Captain
F., of the grenadiers of the same regiment, dead, shot by a ball
entering his neck and passing into his head. I shuddered with
horror at the sight; his face and bosom were covered with thick
blood, and his limbs rigid and contracted as if he had died in
great agony. Near him were several others dead, picked off by
the riflemen of the enemy. We then descended into the plain
where the two armies had been drawn up.
A marine of the Belliqueuse gave me a full account of the
position of the armies and particulars of the battle. We soon
met with some of the 59th, one a corporal, who often joins us in
singing, and who gave the pleasing intelligence that the
regiment had escaped unhurt, except Captain McPherson. In the
rear of the enemy's army there were some farm-houses, which we
had converted into a receptacle for the sick, and in which there
were already two hundred, chiefly English, with a few of the
enemy. Here I entered, and found that six officers were wounded;
but as the surgeon said they should not be disturbed, I did not
go in, especially as they were not dangerously wounded. In one
room I found a Dutch captain wounded, with whom I had a good
deal of conversation in French. After a few questions about the
army and the Cape, I could not help inquiring about Dr.
Vanderkemp; he said he had seen him, but believed he was not at
the Cape, nor knew how I might hear of him. The spectacle at
these houses was horrid. The wounded soldiers lay ranged within
and without covered with blood and gore. While the India troops
remained here, I walked out into the field of battle with the
surgeon. On the right wing, where they had been attacked by the
Highland regiment, the dead and wounded seemed to have been
strewed in great numbers, from the knapsacks, &c. Some of them
were still remaining; with a Frenchman whom I found amongst them
I had some conversation. All whom we approached cried out
instantly for water. One poor Hottentot I asked about Dr.
Vanderkemp, I saw by his manner that he knew him; he lay with
extraordinary patience under his wound on the burning sand; I
did what I could to make his position comfortable, and laid near
him some bread, which I found on the ground. Another Hottentot
lay struggling with his mouth in the dust, and the blood flowing
out of it, cursing the Dutch in English, in the most horrid
language; I told him he should rather forgive them, and asked
him about God, and after telling him of the Gospel, begged he
would pray to Jesus Christ; but he did not attend. While the
surgeon went back to get his instrument in hopes of saving the
man's life, a Highland soldier came up, and asked me in a rough
tone, 'Who are you?' I told him, 'An Englishman;' he said, 'No,
no, you are French,' and was going to present his musket. As I
saw he was rather intoxicated, and might in mere wantonness
fire, I went up to him and told him that if he liked he might
take me prisoner to the English army, but that I was certainly
an English clergyman. The man was pacified at last. The surgeon
on his return found the thigh bone of the poor Hottentot broken,
and therefore left him to die. After this I found an opportunity
of retiring, and lay down among the bushes, and lifted up my
soul to God. I cast my eyes over the plain which a few hours
before had been the scene of bloodshed and death, and mourned
over the dreadful effects of sin. How reviving to my thoughts
were the blue mountains on the east, where I conceived the
missionaries labouring to spread the Gospel of peace and love.
At sunrise on the 10th, a gun from the commodore's ship was instantly
answered by all the men-of-war, as the British flag was seen flying on
the Dutch fort. The future historian of the Christianisation of
Africa will not fail to put in the forefront, at the same time, the
scene of Henry Martyn, on his knees, taking possession of the land,
and of all lands, for Christ.
I could find it more agreeable to my own feelings to go and weep
with the relatives of the men whom the English have killed, than
to rejoice at the laurels they have won. I had a happy season in
prayer. No outward scene seemed to have power to distract my
thoughts. I prayed that the capture of the Cape might be ordered
to the advancement of Christ's kingdom; and that England, while
she sent the thunder of her arms to the distant regions of the
globe, might not remain proud and ungodly at home; but might
show herself great indeed, by sending forth the ministers of her
Church to diffuse the gospel of peace.
Thus on Africa, as on South America, North India, Persia and Turkey,
is written the name of Henry Martyn.
The previous government of the Cape by the British, under Sir Francis
Dundas, had been marked by the arrival, in 1799, of the London
Missionary Society's agents, Dr. Vanderkemp and Kicherer. With the
great chief Ngqika, afterwards at Graaff Reinet and then near Algoa
Bay, the quondam Dutch officer, Edinburgh medical student, and aged
landed proprietor, giving his all to Christ, had gathered in many
converts. Martyn, who had learned to admire Vanderkemp from his books,
was even more delighted with the venerable man. Driven by the Boers
into Cape Town, the old missionary, and Mr. Reid, his colleague, were
found in the midst of their daily services with the Hottentots and
Kafirs. In such society, worshipping through the Dutch language, the
India chaplain spent the greater part of the five weeks' detention of
the Union. 'Dear Dr. Vanderkemp gave me a Syriac Testament as a
remembrance of him.' When Martyn and Reid parted, the latter for Algoa
Bay, 'we spoke again of the excellency of the missionary work. The
last time I had stood on the shore with a friend speaking on the same
subject, was with Lydia, at Marazion.' In Isaiah, and Leighton,
especially his _Rules for a Holy Life_, the missionary chaplain found
comfort and stimulus.
_February 5, 1806._--I am born for God only. Christ is nearer to
me than father, or mother, or sister,--a nearer relation, a more
affectionate friend; and I rejoice to follow Him, and to love
Him. Blessed Jesus! Thou art all I want--a forerunner to me in
all I ever shall go through, as a Christian, a minister, or a
missionary.
_February 13._--After breakfast had a solemn season in prayer,
with the same impressions as yesterday, from Leighton, and tried
to give up myself wholly to God, not only to be resigned solely
to His will, but to seek my only pleasure from it, to depart
altogether from the world, and be exactly the same in happiness,
whether painful or pleasing dispensations were appointed me: I
endeavoured to realise again the truth, that suffering was my
appointed portion, and that it became me to expect it as my
daily lot. Yet after all, I was ready to cry out, what an
unfortunate creature I am, the child of sorrow and care; from my
infancy I have met with nothing but contradiction, but I always
solaced myself that one day it would be better, and I should
find myself comfortably settled in the enjoyment of domestic
pleasures, whereas, after all the wearying labours of school and
college, I am at last cut off from all my friends, and comforts,
and dearest hopes, without being permitted even to hope for them
any more. As I walked the deck, I found that the conversation of
others, and my own gloomy surmises of my future trials,
affected me far less with vexation, than they formerly did,
merely from this, that I took it as my portion from God, all
whose dispensations I am bound to consider and receive as the
fruits of infinite wisdom and love towards me. I felt,
therefore, very quiet, and was manifestly strengthened from
above with might in my inner man; therefore, without any joy,
without any pleasant considerations to balance my present
sickness and gloom, I was contented from the reflection, that it
was God who did it. I pray that this may be my state--neither to
be anxious to escape from this stormy sea that was round the
Cape, nor to change the tedious scene of the ship for Madras,
nor to leave this world merely to get rid of the troubles of it,
but to glorify God where I am, and where He puts me, and to take
each day as an important trust for Him, in which I have much to
do both in suffering and acting. Employed in collecting from the
New Testament all the passages that refer to our walking in
Christ.
_February 18._--Completed my twenty-fifth year. Let me recollect
it to my own shame, and be warned by it, to spend my future
years to a better purpose; unless this be the case, it is of
very little consequence to notice when such a person came into
the world. Passed much of the morning in prayer, but could not
succeed at all in getting an humble and contrite spirit; my
pride and self-esteem seemed unconquerable. Wrote sermon with my
mind impressed with the necessity of diligence: had the usual
service, and talked much to a sick man. Read Hindustani.
_February 27._--Rose once more after a sleepless night, and had
in consequence a peevish temper to contend with. Had a
comfortable and fervent season of prayer, in the morning, while
interceding for the heathen from some of the chapters in Isaiah.
How striking did those words Isaiah xlii. 8 appear to me, 'I am
the Lord, that is My name; and My glory will I not give to
another, neither My praise to graven images.' Lord, is not Thy
praise given to graven images in India? Here, then, is Thine own
express word that it shall not continue to be so. And how easy
is it for the mighty God that created the heavens and stretched
them out, that spread forth the earth, and that which cometh out
of it; that giveth breath unto the people upon it, and spirit to
them that walk therein; to effect His purposes in a moment. What
is caste? What are inveterate prejudices, and civil power, and
priestly bigotry, when once the Lord shall set to His hand? Who
knows whether even the present generation may not see Satan's
throne shaken to its base in India? Learning Hindustani words in
the morning; in the afternoon below, and much hurt at the cold
reception the men gave me.
_March 7._--Endeavoured this morning to consider Christ as the
High Priest of my profession. Never do I set myself to
understand the nature of my walk in Christ without getting good
to my soul. Employed as usual through the day. Heard from
M'Kenzie that they are not yet tired with inveighing against my
doctrines. They took occasion also to say, from my salary, that
'Martyn, as well as the rest, can share the plunder of the
natives in India; whether it is just or not he does not care.'
This brought back the doubts I formerly had about the lawfulness
of receiving anything from the Company. My mind is not yet
comfortable about it. I see it, however, my duty to wait in
faith and patience, till the Lord shall satisfy my doubts one
way or other. I would wish for no species of connection with the
East India Company, and notwithstanding the large sums I have
borrowed on the credit of my salary, which I shall never be able
to repay from any other means, I would wish to become a
missionary, dependent on a society; but I know not how to
decide. The Lord in mercy keep my soul in peace. Other thoughts
have occurred to me since. A man who has unjustly got
possession of an estate hires me as a minister to preach to his
servants, and pays me a salary: the money wherewith he pays me
comes unjustly to him, but justly to me. The Company are the
acknowledged proprietors of the country, the ruling power. If I
were to refuse to go there, I might, on the same account, refuse
to go to France, and preach to the French people or bodyguard of
the emperor, because the present monarch who pays me is not the
lawful one. If there were a company of Mohammedan merchants or
Mohammedan princes in possession of the country, should I
hesitate to accept an offer of officiating as chaplain among
them, and receiving a salary?
_March 14._--_Suavissima vita est indies sentire se fieri
meliorem._ So I can say from former experience more than from
present. But oh, it is the ardent desire of my soul to regard
all earthly things with indifference, as one who dwells above
with God. May I grow in grace; may the grace of God, which
bringeth salvation, teach me to become daily more spiritual,
more humble, more steadfast in Christ, more meek, more wise, and
in all things to live soberly, righteously, and godly in this
present world. How shall I attain to greater
heavenly-mindedness? Rose refreshed after a good night's sleep,
and wrote on a subject; had much conversation with Mr. B. upon
deck; he seemed much surprised when I corrected his notions on
religion, but received what I said with great candour. He said
there was a minister at Madras, a Dane, with whom Sir D. Baird
was well acquainted, who used to speak in the same manner of
religion, whose name was Schwartz. My attention was instantly
roused at the venerable name, and I eagerly inquired of him all
the particulars with which he was acquainted. He had often heard
him preach, and Mr. Jænicke had often breakfasted with him;
Schwartz, he said, had a very commanding manner, and used to
preach extempore in English at Madras; he died very poor. In
the afternoon had a service below; much of the evening M'Kenzie
passed with me, and prayed.
_March 26._--Passed much time before breakfast in sitting on the
poop, through utter disinclination to all exertion. Such is the
enervating effect of the climate; but after staying some hours
learning Hindustani words, 2 Timothy ii. roused me to a bodily
exertion. I felt strong in spirit, resolving, if I died under
it, to make the body submit to robust exercise; so I walked the
deck with great rapidity for an hour and a half. My animal
spirits were altered instantly; I felt a happy and joyful desire
to brave the enervating effects of India in the service of the
blessed Lord Jesus. B. still delirious and dying fast: the first
thing he said to me when I visited him this afternoon, was, 'Mr.
Martyn, what will you choose for a kingdom?' I made no answer to
this, but thought of it a good deal afterwards. What would I
choose? Why, I do not know that anything would be a heaven to
me, but the service of Christ, and the enjoyment of His
presence.
In this spirit, coasting Ceylon, and getting his first sight of India
at the Danish mission station of Tranquebar, on April 22, 1806, Henry
Martyn landed at Madras. To Mr. Hitchins he afterwards wrote:
There was nothing remarkable in this first part of India which I
visited; it was by no means so romantic as America. Vast numbers
of black people were walking about with no dress but a little
about their middle, but no European was to be seen except here
and there one in a palanquin. Once I preached at Fort St.
George, though the chaplains hardly knew what to make of such
sort of preaching; they were, however, not offended. Finding
that the people would bear to be addressed plainly, and not
really think the worse of a minister for dealing closely with
their consciences, they determined, they said, to preach the
Gospel as I did; but I fear that one, if not both, has yet to
learn what the Gospel is. I breakfasted one day with Sir E.
Pellew, the Port Admiral at Madras, and met S. Cole, his
captain. I was perfectly delighted to find one with whom I could
speak about St. Hilary and Marazion; we spoke of every person,
place, and thing we could think of in your neighbourhood.
FOOTNOTES:
[16] _Twenty Sermons_, by the late Rev. Henry Martyn, B.D. Fourth
edition (from first edition printed at Calcutta), London, 1822.
[17] _Five Sermons_ (never before published), by the late Rev. Henry
Martyn, B.D., with a prefatory letter on missionary enterprise, by the
Rev. G.T. Fox, M.A., London, 1862.
[18] George M. Theal's _South African History_, Lovedale Institution
Press, 1873.